#placing my last minute bets on who the next banner units will be so I can once more look really dumb or really smart
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Red, White, and Rooster
Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Eventual smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger
Series Master List Next Part
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Prologue: The Great Debate
Anxiety thrums through your body as you fidget with the knot of his tie. The intrusive thoughts are creeping in, but on the outside, you remain cool, calm, and collected.
"Please tell me why I have to wear a purple tie again?" He asks you with a huff.
You roll your eyes as you begin the same speech you have before every other debate. "Democrats wear blue, Republicans red, you're an Independent, so—"
"You wear purple to show that you're the perfect mix of both," He groans as he finishes your sentence.
You look up to him with hard eyes. You don't miss the flash of a genuine smile across his face before some television assistant comes to remind you that you have five minutes until he needs to be in place.
"Alright. This is the last debate before voting begins. By some miracle of God and my amazing campaign managing, you're ahead in the polls. Don't fuck this up for me." You tell him as you smooth out the arms of his suit.
"Don't fuck it up for you? I'm the one who is going to be in the Oval Office dear." He smirks at you.
"And I'm the one who is getting you there, and who is going to your Chief of Staff,— dear. So, like I said, don't fuck this up for me." You smirk back.
One more debate, you thought. You had to get him through one more debate and a few last-minute campaign stops, and then all your hard work would pay off.
If everything went according to plan, Lieutenant Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw would be the 47th president of the United States, and you, Y/N Wiseman, would be the youngest Chief of Staff to ever serve at just twenty-nine years old.
"Roos, Wise-woman, yall about ready?" His running mate, Lieutenant Jake 'Hangman' Seresin called out. "Or are you two still fighting over a tie?"
"We're good, Jake," you reply as you step back to admire your handy work. You've done a good job.
Bradley is in a dark grey suit with a deep plum colored tie. His silver watch is smart, but not flashy. His dark brown shoes offer a nice contrast to the suit without clashing. His sandy brown locks are styled to appear neat but casual. His mustache is trimmed to give him an edge of maturity.
It was something that most men his age didn't need, but being thirty-five and running for president, it was necessary for him. If elected, he would be the youngest to ever serve.
No, not if. When he is elected, he will be the youngest to ever serve.
"Alright, let's get this show on the road." You clap your hands. Bradley and Jake follow you out of the room. Bradley is directed to his mark while you and Jake find your seats.
You hear the welcoming music as the moderator steps on stage and beings speaking to the cameras. Applause and cheers cry out as the candidates step up to their podiums.
You take a deep breath. This is it. These next two hours are going to make or break over a years worth of work.
If someone had told you a year ago that the two former Navy pilots turned politicians, you met in a D.C. bar who hired you because of a bet were weeks away from winning the White House because of you, you would have laughed in their face.
But one game of pool, several beers, tears, and sleepless nights later, it was happening. It was so close, you could almost taste it.
.........................
"Oh my God you fucking killed it out there man!" Jake smacks Bradley on the back as soon as the three if you make it back stage from the debate.
Jake was right. Bradley did kill it out there. Your phone is already blowing up with Google Alerts from various media posts declaring him the winner of the debate.
His stances on education, heathcare, immigration, and the military blew his competition out of the water.
Frankly, he didn't have any competition because the other two candidates could only seem to focus on how young he was or his military background. Neither of them spoke much on their policies. Instead, they chose to try and poke at Bradley's past. However, that proved to be fatal for them.
America had rallied around Bradley's tragic childhood of losing his father at two, then being raised by a single mother, who died when he was barely nineteen. Bradley hadn't wanted to play the orphan card, and you really tried not to, but when he was lacking the polls, early in the campaign, you did what you had to do. He was mad at you for weeks but changed his tune when he saw the numbers.
One candidate, Reece Johnson, had tried to frame Bradley and Jake as monsters and killers since they were former military. You quickly rewrote the narrative, painting them as heros who received the medal of honor during their last flight mission. Bradley for risking his life while saving his captain and late father's best friend, and Jake for saving them both.
Every time someone tried to tear them down, you would swoop in and save them. All the while, running a clean campaign for them.
You were broken out of your thoughts by Bradley calling your name.
"Y/N. Hello. Earth to Y/N Wiseman." He waves his hand in front of your face.
"What?" You ask him. "How did I do?" He asks you. You can tell that he values your opinion. No matter how much he gets on your nerves or how much he grumbles. He needs to hear what you have to say.
"You didn't fuck it up for us." You tell him. A smile breaks out across his face. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me Wise-woman." He grins.
"Don't get used to it." You shoot back. "Alright, we need to head back to the hotel. We have an early flight to North Carolina tomorrow, and then a few more stops on the East Coast before we head to the Southwest." You remind him and Jake.
They nod their head and grab their belongings.
"I'm going to head to the parking garage and put my things in the SUV. Chapman, Davis, please make sure Mr. Bradshaw and Mr. Seresin make it down safely. Could you also alert Taylor to be waiting for us at the car?" You ask the secret service agents assigned to you three.
"Yes, Ma'am. Would you like an escort?" Davis ask you.
"No, I'll be fine. No one goes after the campaign manager." You joke before waving him off.
......................
You'd just gotten to the parking garage to put your things in when Taylor, your driver, informed you that he'd left his coat upstairs. You assured him you would be fine as he went to retrieve it.
You'd just finished putting your things in the trunk when you heard someone call out your name.
"Y/N!" A voice shouted. You turned around just in time to see a masked person standing a few feet away from you, with the barrel of a gun pointed directly at you.
Your breath caught in your throat. You didn't know what to do. You were frozen.
"Y/N! You bitch! You cost me everything!" They screamed at you. You heard them draw back the hammer of the revolver before they took their aim.
"GUN!" You head someone shout.
It all happened in slow motion. You couldn't fully process what was happening until it was all over.
You heard the deafening bang of a gunshot.
You felt a strong pair of arms wrap around you and pull you into them and down on the ground to safety while two men in black suits charged at the figure.
You watched with blank eyes as they tackled the person to the ground and wrestled the smoking weapon out of their hands.
Your ears were ringing, but you were vaguely aware of someone calling your name.
"Y/N! Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Bradley shook you.
Suddenly, you realized he was the one holding you.
"I—I'm alright." You stutter out just as you hear the click of cameras followed blare of police sirens.
"You—you saved me." You stutter, fully trying to process the situation. More cameras clicked as the press was making their way out of the venue and witnessing what happened.
Suddenly, it hit you. You had been shot at. Bradley and broken away from his security to save you. He had ignored protocol to protect you. He'd put his life on the line for you.
By now, the media and police were swarming around the two of you. Snapping picture after picture of the two of you while asking question after question. You knew those photos would be on every major news outlet, and the story of his heroism would go viral within hours.
As he helped you up, two things crossed your mind.
One, you were thankful to be alive.
Two, you'd just won the White House.
Eeeekkkk! Babes! I hope you enjoyed this first part! I'm excited to here your feedback!
Tag List:
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@teacupsandtopgun
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@seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @princess76179 @bradshawseresinbabe
@sunlightmurdock
@lt-bradshaw @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @mj-l4 @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern
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#cherrycola27#top gun maverick#top gun#rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster top gun#bradley bradshaw#rooster smut#bradley bradshaw smut#rooster x reader#lt. bradley bradshaw#tgm smut#tgm fic#tgm#tgm fanfiction#top gun rooster#top gun smut#top gun 2#red white and rooster
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I feel like I just made a whole post about my Halloween summons, but then they went and gave us another weekend of free tenfolds, and we have some datamines now about the next event, so I have a whole new batch of things to talk about lmao.
I’m just gonna put it under a cut like usual.
First off, I managed to get Halloween Maritimus [and my third copy of Halloween Mym lmao] off of the second batch of free weekend tenfolds, so yeah I’m just gonna call it quits on this banner now that Halloween Elly is the only one I don’t have from it. She’s the one I’m least interested, and I have a feeling the next banner will be a lot more tempting.
We also got datamine stuff about how the next event is going to be an Accursed Archives rerun, along with a new story event that goes along with it in some way. On the one hand I’d be more interested in getting the two water facilities I missed out on than the shadow one, but on the other hand Curran and Heinwald are some of my absolute faves and I’ve always regretted joining the game after their event had ended, so this will be fun. And this also seems like a really nice way to do new story events. It kinda feels like after the Valentines one they’ve had no real idea how exactly they want to go about doing any new ones, so hopefully this’ll set a precedent going forward.
I don’t think any of the datamine stuff specifically says anything about what the new banner will be, but at the moment my guess is that, even though this is a shadow facility event, it’ll be a light element banner. Or at least a partially light banner. The Stirring Shadows event synopsis page thing has a more yellow tone to it, and it literally references ‘The King in Yellow’, so it feels like it’s pointing more toward a light element banner. And we just got a new set of Halloween units who weren’t useful at all in the Halloween event itself, so it wouldn’t be too odd to get another set of units that don’t match the event they’re released along with, lol. [Also we just got the Fractured Futures banner earlier this month, whereas our last light element banner was two months ago, so there’s that]
My current guess for who’ll be on the new banner is that we’ll get Lathna, a new Lovecraftian dragon, and alts for Curran and Heinwald, since those will probably be the characters most prominent in the new story event. It’s also worth noting that [even though this doesn’t exactly prove anything about the new banner units] we also got datamined voice files for three new stickers based on Curran, Heinwald, and Lathna, which we’ll probably get as event rewards. And right when this new event drops they’re going to also update Nyarly’s kit a bit, which now makes me think that the new banner dragon might have the same sort of kit as him. Like how they buffed skill damage dragons right before releasing Siren.
Lathna and some kinda Lovecraftian dragon seem almost certain to me, but Curran and Heinwald alts would be a bit more up in the air. If we don’t get them, we might just randomly get Leif as a light version of Patia, but I’d be a lot more interested in getting Curran and Heinwald alts.
I’m assuming it’ll probably be a light banner, but it could be a shadow banner to fit the event better, but in that case I wouldn’t want to get Curran and Heinwald alts if they’re the same elements as their regular forms.
At least if it’s a light banner, I think the new dragon will basically just be a light version of Nyarly, for better or worse, and for the banner units, I could see us either getting Lathna as a 5-star and two 4-star alts for Curran and Heinwald, or two 5-star alts for Curran and Heinwald, and Lathna as a 4-star. I’m not sure which I’d prefer. But since I’m biased i’d like for any Curran and Heinwald alts to be as good as possible so i’d prefer it if they were 5-stars, even if it made them harder to summon, lol.
Either way, I think Lathna would be a light wand if she’s a 4-star, or a light dagger if she’s a 5-star. I could pretty easily see her as basically being the light version of Noelle, at least. Which light probably needs a lot at this point. And I could see her having a more supportive/defensive playstyle all around if the new banner dragon is the same as Nyarly, especially since the event print with Lathna on it is about shields and an HP regen that happens when you drop below 30% HP.
For Curran and Heinwald, I’d like for both of them to swich to a different weapon type for any alts they get, but I could totally see Curran getting a 5-star curse res light axe alt [in which case rip in pieces Summer Luca lmao]. I’d be happier if he got a 5-star curse-res light dagger or blade alt. I could go for either one, but a blade would probably be more useful overall. I know that Yachiyo is meta for HZD, but I feel like she’s mostly just an OK unit who people use because the only 5-star light blade at the moment isn’t any better than her, so getting a really good light blade unit would be nice. At least Fleur is genuinely really powerful now that they’ve changed how afflictions work.
Considering that light is basically drowning in staff units, I’d be a bit let down if we got a light staff Heinwald alt. I think a light wand alt would work nicely. He’s already more offensively-oriented than most healers as it is, so it’d be a natural change. It might be weird if both he and Lathna are light wands, but it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve gotten a banner like that, and if Heinwald gets a DPS-focused light wand alt while Lathna is more supportive, they’d at least serve different roles.
The only other options I can think of for banner units other than them would, as I said, be Leif as a light sword unit with the same sort of kit as Patia. But he’d feel really out of place.
This would also be the best time to give Curran and Heinwald alts to begin with. It’d feel a bit sad to give only one or the other of them an alt and not both since they’re pretty much a matched pair, so giving them both alts at the same time in a banner themed around their event rerun would be cool.
We still really need a light element skill damage dragon, but the upcoming change to Nyarly’s skills make me think that won’t be what the next banner will give us.
I know at this point I should start saving for the next gala, but Curran and Heinwald alts would be way more tempting to me, lol.
Also, in Dragalia Lost liveblogging news, after getting a few HMS clears with H-Lowen, I managed to get a few HMC clears with Noelle. On paper I’m probably ready for eHMC since I have a MUB Freyja and whatnot, but I’m gonna just stick to standard HDTs for now.
In general HMC wasn’t as difficult as I thought it’d be, but it feels a lot more punishing towards mistakes than HMS. It’s one of those fights where I really wish I could zoom the game out more since it can be hard to keep HMC in frame all the time while still staying outside of her attack range. But overall I feel like I have the pattern down.
I don’t even think I want to attempt any of the other HDTs just yet, though, even though I have the right sort of units for them. They all seem way harder and more demanding.
I think I said this in the last post I made, but they really need to have standard HDTs drop the materials for making HDT weapons, even if it’s at a lower rate to the eHDT material drops. The whole key-in-a-locked-box set-up going on with them at the moment is really off-putting and makes eHDTs feel impenetrable. It should be more like how you get the materials for HDT bane weapons from doing void battles, not from doing HDTs themselves. In general, making the barrier of entry into eHDTs way less steep would go a long way toward fixing the issues with it.
#murasaki rambles#dragalia lost#placing my last minute bets on who the next banner units will be so I can once more look really dumb or really smart
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bangtan host club ❯ part i
❯ pairing: ot7 x reader
❯ genre: ouran au, college au, crack, smut
❯ summary: when you had decided to take summer lessons at your college, you hadn’t factored in the impending presence of seven insufferably attractive and arrogant boys… the bangtan host club.
❯ word count: 2.1k
❯ warnings: 18+, cursing, suggestive language, terrible pet names, excessive dramatics
❯ banner by: maggie @kimtaehyunq
a/n: while this fic is loosely based off of the anime version of ouran highschool host club, it is set in university - meaning that all of the boys are of age (at least 21 years old)
host club members
❯ Kim Namjoon as “Kyoya Ootori” ❯ Kim Seokjin as “Tamaki Suoh” ❯ Min Yoongi as “Takashi ‘Mori’ Morinozuka” ❯ Jung Hoseok as “Mitsukuni ‘Honey’ Haninozuka” ❯ Park Jimin as “Hikaru Hitachiin” ❯ Kim Taehyung as “Kaoru Hitachiin” ❯ Jung Jungkook as “Haruhi Fujioka”
Taking summer classes had never been on my agenda, my studies having been mapped out in detail since the day I arrived on campus three years ago. And then the university’s president suddenly has this utterly groundbreaking epiphany and adjusts the curriculum to “ensure that all students will leave Bangtan University well-rounded”.
Screw that. My ass is already well-rounded enough, thank you very much.
But despite my best efforts (i.e. begging President Kim to make an exception followed by crafting a petition that gained over ten thousand signatures), I have found that there is no avoiding the dastardly new physical education requirement. And since my schedule for my upcoming senior year has been planned and set for literal years, I’ve been forced to enroll in the sole summer physical education class offered at Bangtan University - Introduction to Weight Lifting.
I wish I was kidding.
To say that I am dreading the start of class tomorrow would be an extreme understatement. I’ll be lucky to escape this summer without physical injury or the loss of my dignity. Athletics have never been my strong suit, and I’ve only entered our campus gym to go to the smoothie bar.
Groaning at just the mere thought of working out and being graded for it, I trek down the streets of outer campus towards the library, swearing under my breath and sweating profusely.
It’s a blazing hot, blue-skied Sunday in July. Typically, I would be lying on a beach somewhere with a drink in my hand, soaking in the warmth of the sun with joy. But instead, here I am, sweltering and desperate for air conditioning after my ancient window unit wheezed its final breath last night. The comfortable chill of the library is my only hope aside from my landlord who promised to fix my air conditioning by tomorrow.
My frustration builds as I turn onto the block lined with imposing and picturesque estates in which the upper echelon of Bangtan University resides. I’d bet the very last ice-pack in my freezer that these houses have unfailing central air.
I pick up my pace, worn Doc Marten platform sandals slapping against the hot pavement. The pristine mansions seem to mock my distress as they exude the coolness of unbothered wealth. Despite there being no Greek life here at Bangtan University, the lack of letters emblazoned on the numerous estates I pass does not symbolize a lack of status.
This block is home to the athletic teams who throw massive parties whenever they happen to be in the off-season. It’s also home to the legacy clubs - the exclusive groups of current students who are relatives of past alumni.
And last but not least, this block is home to the infamous Bangtan Host Club, a small group of idle rich boys with exceptionally good looks and a penchant for entertaining.
The aforementioned group’s house comes into view as I draw nearer to campus. The host club’s mansion sits on the corner lot right across the street from campus. Typically, students are wary of such proximity - but not those boys. No, they’re un-phased, throwing massive parties every weekend without fail and without repercussion.
During my first semester, I had been confused as to why their parties had never been shut down; but now I know better. The host club’s president Kim Seokjin is the son of none other than the fucking president of the university - the very same man who damned me to my weight lifting fate.
In fact, almost the entire host club is related to someone with influence - either at the university or within the surrounding community. The only exception to the wealth factor is Jeon Jungkook, who attends Bangtan University on a scholarship not unlike myself.
About 99% of the university are host club stans. As for me? I don’t subscribe to that bullshit. And I do mean literally ‘subscribe’. They have newsletters, merch and everything. I would say I don’t understand it at all, but a small part of me does.
They’re fucking gorgeous. Like I’m talking Tom Ford at New York Fashion Week gorgeous. Armani catalogue centerfold gorgeous. Goddamn Sports Illustrated Men’s Swimsuit Edition gorgeous.
In fact, I’m pretty sure Kim Seokjin actually does model in his spare time. With his long limbs, broad shoulders and pillowy lips, Seokjin certainly has the features for it. My freshman year roommate bought so many posters of Seokjin from the host club’s merch website I think I could identify him from a hundred yards away in the dark.
“Hey!” The bellow emanates from the porch of the host club’s house and jolts me from my memories, “Hey, princess!”
I let out a snort. Whoever that pet name is directed at needs to shut that down immediately. I mean, ‘princess’? In this economy? Please. I need off this block ASAP.
“Hello? I’m talking to you, angel!”
The voice sounds closer now, and my eyes squeeze shut. Oh god, this person cannot be talking to me, can they?
Princess? Angel?
The sheer absurdity pushes me onward, and I do not spare a single glance in the direction where the inane greetings originated. Alas, I barely make it two feet before a tall figure screeches to a halt in front of me, panting like he had just run a marathon.
I blink as I take in the very boy who just crossed my mind a minute earlier. Kim Seokjin looms over me, chest heaving and smile gleaming.
“Cupcake, hello!” his smile grows wider, “Why didn’t you answer me? I was talking to you.”
My brain is trying to wrap itself around the unfathomable phenomenon I’m currently witnessing. The host club president is beaming down at me like I’m the last custom Rolex ever made. His white t-shirt that probably costs more than my rent stretches across his shoulders in a way that has to be illegal.
A bead of sweat drips down my back between my shoulder blades. I don’t have time for this attractive detour; I only have time for a long sip of iced water and a seat under an air conditioning vent somewhere deep within the recesses of the quiet library.
“Were you?” I shrug, looking over his illegally broad shoulder and plotting my escape, “I didn’t realize, considering my name isn’t princess, angel or cupcake.”
I inwardly cringe at my tone. I have a tendency to be irritable when the weather is hot, and it seems like today is no exception.
Seokjin stares down at me, his cocky expression wavering for a split second before snapping back into place. “Well, tell me your name then, sunshine, so that I may cordially invite you to the host club’s latest summer extravaganza!” His dark brown eyes sparkle as he remains seemingly impervious to my building ire, beaming down at me.
“No, thank you,” I shake my head decisively and attempt to sidestep around him.
None of my friends are on campus for the summer, and there is no way I'm going alone to a party full of strangers. That just screams bad decisions, just like the time I willingly ate the dining hall’s “Mystery Meat Special” during my second semester.
Seokjin cuts off my path yet again, and my scowl intensifies as I glare up at him, “Could you move, please?”
Seokjin gapes back at me, “D-don’t you want to come to our party?” I stare at him with eyebrows raised. He continues at a higher decibel, “Don’t you know who I am?”
The nerve of this boy. My eyes scrunch shut as I send a quick plea to anyone out there in the universe to send me patience and then internally count backwards from ten.
“Yes, I know who you are, Kim,” I finally say, completely exasperated, “And no, I still don’t want to go to your party.”
Seokjin is gobsmacked, looking like he’s seen a ghost as he stands before me open-mouthed. For a second, I allow myself to indulge one more time in his attractiveness, my eyes wandering along his toned torso, his muscular arms, his high cheekbones, his messy brown hair.
And then he bounces back, snapping his fingers, “Aha! I know what this is. You’re playing hard to get! Okay, I can play along with you, sunshine.”
It’s my turn to gape at him this time, watching as he mumbles to himself about how I must want him to beg for me and how he would just love to do so. I’m about to put a stop to this madness when he spreads his arms wide and announces loud enough for the entire block to hear, “Sunshine, please, attend our party! My heart longs for your presence, and I will only be happy if I can have your arm in mine next Friday night...”
I’m honestly beginning to worry about the boy in front of me. Is he completely unhinged? Am I being Punk’d right now?
Seokjin prattles on, “So, my sun, my moon, my stars, will you please do me the honor of joining me for a night of fun courtesy of the host club? No guest has yet to be disappointed and—!”
I finally just reach up and cover his mouth with my palm, steadfastly ignoring how plush his lips feel against my skin. “Kim Seokjin!” I hiss, “I promise I am not playing hard to get. I simply do not want to go to your party. Now, please, for the love of god, let me walk by you in peace.”
Loud bursts of laughter sound immediately after I finish speaking, and I whip around to locate the source. Two boys jog over to where Seokjin and I are standing on the pavement. Their laughter doesn’t subside with their approach. If anything, it grows louder.
“Oh, come on, pres,” the pink-haired boy who I know to be Park Jimin jeers, his melodic giggles punctuating each word. “Is this how you plan on handling your first rejection?”
My eyebrows pull together in confusion as I turn to face Seokjin, only to find him lying dramatically on the lawn in front of his house with one arm throw over his face.
“Go away, Jimin,” Seokjin groans, ripping out a handful of grass and throwing it at the other boy. Obviously, he doesn't calculate for the wind and sputters when the grass blows back in his face.
“Boss, you’ve really hit a new low,” the blue-haired boy - Kim Taehyung - grins as he looks back and forth between me and the over-the-top performance happening on the lawn. All Seokjin does in return is flip Taehyung off, seeming to have learned from his grass-throwing lesson.
Well, there’s no need for me to stay a second longer within this realm of crazy.
I turn on my heel and head off towards the library, renewed in my desperation for the relief of blissfully cold air.
Alas, I don’t get too far before the two boys with colorful hair are in front of me - each with an arm thrown over the other’s shoulders.
“Well, well, well… I must say,” Taehyung drawls.
“You’re quite an intriguing little thing,” Jimin cocks his head, looking me up and down. I try in vain to steel myself against the heated assessments both boys are giving me.
I’d heard a lot about these two - most of it being completely outlandish and borderline unbelievable. Do they really do everything together?
It’s as if that thought is written all over my face as the smirks grow on the faces of Jimin and Taehyung. “If you don’t want to come to our party for Jin-hyung…”
“Will you come for us?” Taehyung finishes Jimin’s thought, and I am almost certain that he intended for that question to be as suggestive as it sounded.
Before I can even attempt to answer, Seokjin launches up from the ground and barges in between the two boys. “Yah! That is no way to speak to a lady! Have I taught you nothing? Don’t you fools remember lesson number fifty-two on being a good host?”
“We didn’t say anything inappropriate, pres,” Taehyung shrugs, looking pleased with how riled up the older boy is growing. His pink-haired counterpart grins, “If anything, you’re the one with the dirty mind, twisting our innocent words into such filth.”
It’s as if Seokjin is struck by lightning - his shock turning him pale as a ghost before the redness overtakes him. I cannot tell if it’s due to embarrassment or anger. All I know is that I need to bounce.
When Mt. Seokjin finally erupts, I slink away and practically jog across the street to campus. Ah, free at last...
a/n: this is part one in my host club series! originally i was going to make this a giant one-shot but i figured i would just break it up into smaller pieces so that i could get some content out uwu
© luxekook do not repost, edit or translate
#bangtanhq#bangtanarmynet#btsbookclub#btsnoonanet#btswriterscollective#btswritingcafe#ficswithluv#kpopuniverse#ksmutclub#kwritersworld#networkbangtan#bts x reader#ot7 x reader#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fic#bts
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for the stricklake prompts - hot cocoa date downtown?
Barbara bundled herself against a heavy breeze coming in off the mountains, scarf flowing like a blue banner behind her steps. The morning radio had warned of a rare “Canadian Clipper” that was to drift from the Pacific into Arcadia Oaks, and as predicted, the temperature had dropped from balmy to bracing within the span of hours. Despite donning a coat, she found herself shivering against the sudden chill, closing her eyes until the blast ran its course. Walter, at first, had prompted that they stay indoors at their usual cafe, but the small space and crowded line dissuaded the notion. With barely over an hour before her shift, there had been no time to wait.
“I’ve another old haunt around the corner,” He’d suggested, green eyes glimmering like snow-frosted blades of grass. “They’re not so good at tea, but they’ve hot chocolate like you’ve never known. It’s just a shack, however. No seating.”
Trepidation loomed in his voice as he eyed her reddened nose and cheeks, but it had been a week wince they’d last seen each other, and she was going to be damned before she let the weather get in the way of their tea date.
“Lead the way,” she hooked an arm around his elbow, smiling when his chest puffed as they walked along the sidewalk.
Minutes later, the doctor watched his long legs stride away from the serving window, feet pointed in her direction as he rolled his steps to ensure that no liquid spilled over the edges of the two paper beverage cups he held aloft. Two matching blobs of whipped cream jiggled over the tops, trying earnestly to stay in place.
“So,” he sat down on the edge of the bench, gingerly handing her one of the cups. “Are you ready to try the finest cup of cocoa this side of the Atlantic.”
“Oh, c’mon,” she chortled, “It can’t be that good.
“I’m serious.” He admonished. “The Blackbird Cafe has been in business for some time, and they’ve perfected the art. They use powdered chocolate, not cocoa, and it makes a world of difference.” His voice lingered richly on his words, dipping just so. “You’ll notice the homemade marshmallow cream on top. “It’s an absolute delight.”
“Alright, well. If you’re wrong, you owe me a bubble bath later.”
The sudden thought of her nude form peeking out from beneath the waterline sent all manner of thrills.
“In that case, you’re going to hate it,” he amended.
An elbow to his rib-cage found him chortling alongside her, revelling in a moment that was so very far removed from his other life—his true life.
“Okay, okay.” She said, trying to suppress giggles as her lips journeyed towards the rim.
“Do take care.” Walter warned from her periphery. “It’s quite hot.”
“You or the cocoa?
“Hmm?” he intoned, half-distracted with his own cup before he caught the coyness in her eyes.
She made a sizzling “Tcssssh ” sound as she pressed a finger to his forearm.
“That was awful, Barbara”
“Woo,” she sucked her finger, feigning pain, “I might have to check into the burn unit when I get to work.”
“You’ll have to have a proper sizzle, first.”
“Oh, will I?” She raised a brow, to which he laughed.
Revenge came with the glint in his eyes, and the tilt of a challenging smirk.
She merely sipped her chocolate, tongue darting out to catch any lingering cream. “Mmmmmm,” she intoned, voice lingering richly on the note, to which he nearly dropped his cup. When their eyes met again, his pupils were blown.
“Well,” he cleared his throat, attempting nonchalance, “how does it rate?”
“Barring any sentimental attachment I have towards Jim’s recipe? Pretty darn good. It’s not tooth-achingly sweet, and the marshmallowis amazing. We’ve always used the store bought puffs.”
“Those have their place. You can’t exactly roast this off of a bonfire.” He sipped his cocoa, and then smiled down at her. “Do you know I once ate an entire bag?”
“No way, Mr. Fancy-pants.” She shook her head, leaning her shoulder against his. “Next you’re going to tell me you eat frosted cereal.”
It was all sport.” he carried on, “part of a pep rally. What they didn’t know was that I was part t-” Confound it! “Uh—troglodyte.”
She raised a brow, “Err, well I bet Jim would have laughed his socks off at that one.”
“He did. It was during his first year. I believe I gained his respect that day.”
With the words, his face went sour, memories surfacing of that troubled creature near the edge of his classroom, scrawny and unnaturally kind. Those days, he’s wanted so badly to levy the child’s worries, and had even taken a proactive role in filling the gaps a deadbeat father had left. Now, in the end, Atlas only carried more weight.
“Hey,” her voice cut through him. A small hand found his shoulder. “We’ll get there again, okay?”
Finding the hand, he brought it to his lips.
“Let’s hope, love.”
A strand of silence found them smiling at each other. She sat back and nursed her drink.
“This is definitely taking the edge off the chill,” she said, just as the frigid fingers of a draft swept by. She curled into herself, trying with one hand to tug length out of a scarf that had already reached its maximum amount of wraps while balancing her cup with the other. ”Okay, I spoke too soon,” a hand shoved itself into her armpit. “How is it you’re only wearing one jacket?”
“A cold heart doesn’t require much heat.”
“Walt, seriously,” she narrowed her gaze, the doctor shining through. “You’re going to freeze.”
He pecked her on the cheek. “You’ve been in California too long, darling.”
“Walter” Her pout sparked laughter, and he suppressed the urge to kiss the wrinkles it made around her nose.
“Here,” he spread one side of his jacket open, wrapping both it and his arm around her. The proof was in the pudding. “You’ll find that I am plenty warm.”
“What are you, part furnace?” Her arm came around his waist, sending shivers up his spine. They amused themselves with watching the passers-by, as well as a stray blackbird that seemed intent on chirping at them from the ground.
“We must be near her nest.” Barbara yawned languidly from somewhere near his armpit when it wouldn’t be shooed away. It fluttered off for a moment, only to return to lay a berry at her feet. Two more rounds saw a stick and a feather joining the display, before it resumed its chirping.
“Strange,” Walter tried again to shoo the creature with his foot, reluctant to move from their cozy roost.
“I see where the cafe gets its name,” she said as her own foot joined his. “Go on, birdie,” Again, it flew off; this time not to return.
“All creatures listen to you.” His voice was low, speculative.
“Except teenagers.” The feeling of her forehead nuzzling against his chest sent sparks. Lazily, she sat up and downed the dredges of her cocoa. Then, grabbing his wrist, she checked his watch. “Ugh, I thought so.”
“Never enough time,” he admonished.
She puffed her cheeks in frustration, but then looked up at him, eyes alight with the spark of some thought.
“Hey,” she pointed to her upper lip, “You have some marshmallow.”
His tongue darted out to save the day. “Gone?”
“Not yet,” she bit her lip.
Next, his sleeve had a go. “What about now?”
Her red hair shook. “Here, let me.” Without warning she slid her mouth against his.
The changeling’s moan of surprise melted quickly into delight. A blast of air swept past, whipping her red locks out of their moorings to mix with his salt-and-pepper strands. It drew them closer, and he grasped her jaw to deepen the kiss.
Without checking her handiwork, she withdrew and smiled. “Got it.”
He huffed in exasperation, though his traitor mouth tugged upward. “Was there even anything there in the first place?”
“Was there?” She raised her brow coquettishly.
“What a rascal.”
“You like it.”
“I do.”
She laughed, bell-like, as he brushed his nose against hers. Settling in to steal another kiss.
Click, came a sound from somewhere close, click
“Ha!” came a sound from behind the bush, “That little butt-snack is gonna pass out when he sees this! Oh, yeah, Steve. Who’s the man?”
With the force of a provoked tiger, Walter spun around, eyes threatening to start wildfires as he scanned for the imp whose voice he recognized. Surely, the teen wasn’t this idiotic. Surely, there was homework to do. Surely, any number of activities sparked more interest than peeping on one’s principal. Surreptitiously, what was left of Walter’s cocoa found its way onto his pants. He squeaked.
“Oh!” the doctor shouted. “Oh! Are you burnt?”
As if the warm liquid trickling down his manhood wasn’t enough; enter Barbara dabbling at his trousers.
Walter rose with a yelp, dashing away from the hand before assumptions could be drawn, and then spun around to face his perpetrator with an unholy scowl. “Mr. Palchuck,” he crossed his arms, though it was difficult to look intimidating with splashes of cocoa on his trousers. “Are you spying on me?”
“Oh no, dude,” Steve failed to hide his snickering. “Uh, Sir, I mean, principal. I was totally not spying on you.”
“Then what are you doing?” His finger tapped against his elbow.
“Uh, duh. I was spying on Jim’s mom! Dude, he’s like, my arch-nemesis, and he’s such a mama’s-boy. What better way to get at him than by doing it through his mom?”Walter opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again. Could he really scold this boy for committing the same crime. He shared a glance with Barbara before he shut his eyes to hide their glow. The Janus Order was different. There were lives at stake–his bretheren’s lives. This was simple adolescent bullying; an entirely different venue. Entirely, he thought, despondent.
“This is absolutely inappropriate and uncalled for!” He finally growled, pointing in emphasis. “After school tomorrow, detention. I’ll be stopping by for a little chat.”
“Hey, you can’t do that!” The boy whined, eyes desperate. “I’m not even at school!”
“Oh, yes I can.” The cold breeze running against his trousers did nothing to stave his annoyance. “Now hand me that phone.”
Steve tucked his phone behind his back. “But I didn’t do anything!”
“You took pictures of us. You’re bullying Jim! I think you’ve done quite a bit.”
“What do you care?” The boy sniffed indignantly. “Lake doesn’t like you anyways. In fact, as amazing as it sounds, I think he hates you even more than he hates me.” He jabbed a thumb into his own chest. “Which is, as I said, amazing. I saw it myself when we were in your office.”
“Again? Barbara blinked, taken aback, and then palmed her forehead. “Ugh.”
“The bodily function jokes, Barbara.” Walter clarified before protests mounted. “We discussed it.”
“Oh, right.” She said, shoulders unclenching.
“Phone.” Walter opened his palm to the boy, jaw clenching. “Now.”
The boy crossed his arms, turning to the side with a dramatic flair. “Make me, old man.”
“Hey!” Barbara shouted before Walter could boil over. “Okay, okay, calm down.” She placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “Steve, isn’t it?” Her blue gaze found the boy’s. “Yeah, sweetheart, come here for a second so we don’t violate any HIPPA laws.”
She led the teenager a few paces away; out of earshot by human standards. Walter, of course, wasn’t human. “Remember that time a couple of weeks ago,” he overheard her, “when you came into the clinic because you’d eaten too many beets and didn’t realize what it did to your poop. I let you out without writing up a chart, or billing anything, and we even agreed that your mom didn’t have to know about it because it wasn’t a concern.” “Now, I did you a big favor that night, and now I’m hoping you’ll do me a favor now by letting me delete those photos. Will you do that for me?”
His eyes darted to Strickler and back, then his shoulders sunk.
“Sure,” Steve handed her the phone.
All creatures Walter thought.
“Thank you,” she fiddled with the phone for a few moments before handing it back. “There, now I’m sure Walt-uh Principal Strickler will be glad to forget giving you detention tomorrow as long as you promise not to do it again.”
“Really?” he lit up.
She looked to Walter, who heaved a sigh. “Fine, but I expect you in my office before school starts tomorrow. We’re going to set up a meeting with your guidance counselor. I’ve a feeling I know why you’ve been acting out even more than usual.”
“Okay, Mr. Strickler.” Steve shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Try to stay out of my ER, okay, kid?”
“Yeah, no promises,” he grinned, and then strode away.
“Guidance counselor?” She asked as they both watched the teen disappear into the throng of buildings.
“Ah, well,” the changeling finally felt his muscles relaxing. “Jim isn’t the only one who’s been slighted a good father. Unfortunately, Mr. Palchuck is still dealing with his. He and Jim have more in common than they realize. Each sees traces of himself in the other, even if it is subconscious. Jim is sympathetic, while Steve resents.” He looked down at her, the corner of his lip tugging skywards. “I’m impressed, you know. You have such a way with others, and you handled that far better than I did.”
“Well, I had selfish motives,” she pulled out her phone before sitting on the bench. He followed.
Pulling up her photo gallery, she scrolled through the pictures. “I took a moment to send them to myself before destroying all the evidence.”
“Have you considered a career in espionage?”
“Nope,” she said, placing a kiss onto his neck before settling back against him, “I get enough excitement in the ER.” She continued to scroll. “These are cute. Ha! It must have caught the reflection in your eye in this one. You look possessed.”
Green eyes looked down to the yellow ones on the screen, and he cursed himself for his lack of control. What, precisely, did he intend to do if he ever slipped entirely? Protocol demanded that he take her life but that was…out of the question. Would he imprison her, threaten her, resort to blackmail, do any number of things he done to any number of innocents in the past.
Shifting to look at her, Walter noted the blue gaze full of weariness, that unassuming smile, this ragged creature whose existence demanded only that he commit the most heinous crime a changeling could commit.
He shifted uncomfortably.
“You okay?” her soft voice rose past a swallow.
“Yes,” his nose was running against the cold, and he wiped it crudely with his sleeve, dredging his mind for an excuse. “Wet trousers are dreadful things.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” She looped her scarf around his neck, pulling him closer. I know exactly how to treat those.”
“After work, then?” He squeezed her hip.
“Yeah,” her smile went lopsided, “but…here.” Gently, she grasped his jaw and guided it towards her own. “Just a small dose to get you through.”
“Tcssssh,” he hissed when their noses bumped together, delighting in her laugh. And as their tongues met, he forgot why he was ever disturbed.
***
Also read/comment here:
Hot Chocolate - FoxLight - Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro [Archive of Our Own]
#trollhunters#stricklake#Barbara Lake#Walter Strickler#Steve Palchuck#askbox#requests#tales of arcadia
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Million Reasons, Ch. 2: During
banner credit: @spiderszman
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Established Relationship Words: ~13k Warnings: Cursing & some graphic injury descriptions A/N: Yeah...this ran away from me a bit. I did warn you all about it. If you want to be added onto the taglist - let me know! Again, ignore any mistakes. This whole story was put together quite hastily so please forgive any obvious errors.
-Additionally, this wasn’t showing up in the tags so I deleted and reposted on my new laptop and it worked? Sorry to those who already liked!-
Chapter One: Before | Masterlist | Ao3
Chapter Two of Three: During
A sharp gust of cold air hit a patch of exposed skin around your neck and you shivered almost violently.
Where was he? You pulled your coat tighter around yourself.
You glanced at your phone for the tenth time in the last five minutes and tapped your foot against the curb.
Having both managed to get off early on a Friday, Peter and you had planned to catch a movie and dinner. You’d missed each other for a few days now, with your conflicting schedules. You always went to sleep without him home and he’d wake up with you already gone for the day. He was supposed to have met you almost two hours ago.
Huffing, you called him again and got his voicemail.
“Peter, if you forgot about me again because of some experiment, I’m going to put Nair in your shampoo.” You looked around and frowned. “If something happened to you, I’m going to kill you. Call me, please.”
You crossed your arms and shifted your weight, deciding to wait a few more minutes. A group of teenagers passed you. The tallest one shook his head and pointed at his phone. “That’s so dope man, look at his moves!”
“He’s cool as hell, I bet you I could do a flip like that!”
The other teenager laughed, shaking his head. Soon, they were gone from your line of sight.
Already knowing, you closed your eyes and sighed. You walked towards the bar next to the theater and peeked in. The wide screen television on top of the bar was set on the news. A shaky cellphone video was playing under the BREAKING NEWS header and a flash of red and blue blurred across the television. There was a good sized crowd huddled under the television, staring up at it in awe. The anchor woman came back into frame and she smiled.
“As always, Spiderman was spotted helping the victims of this heinous crime. The 56th precinct is now on scene providing him with back up.”
Not wanting to linger, you shut the door and started walking towards the subway. Before you could even get lost in your thoughts, a black town car with tinted windows drove up next to where you were standing. The passenger window rolled down and you saw Happy.
“Long time no see,” he greeted.
“Long time,” you agreed. “Who sent you? Tony or Peter?”
Happy winced. “Both. Peter says sorry, got caught up in the thing downtown.”
“Yeah, I saw,” you said, lips pursed.
“He asked me to drive you home. He looked real torn up about it, don’t be mad at the kid. He’s a good apple. Besides, he said he’d bring pizza home but I got you some of the good stuff from fifth anyway.”
Leaning in, you saw a pizza box sitting on the passenger seat. You knew Peter well enough to know he already felt horrible for standing you up. The smell of pizza wafted up and you took a deep breathe.
“Come on, you know you want to.”
You smiled, the annoyance lifting and slowly ebbing away.
Nodding, you slid into the backseat. “Alright, you won me over. The Yankees are on soon, you got somewhere you gotta be?”
“I’m all yours.”
///
The next morning, as usual, you gingerly walked passed a snoring Peter and stuck a post-it on his chest. Bidding Chewie a goodbye, you left for a long shift ahead of you.
Unfortunately, halfway through your shift you’d been called to help a few men that had gotten into a bar fight. The tallest one had managed to drunkenly knock you into the wall - where a shelf hit your bad shoulder just right.
Fortunately, you had enough ice packs to last you a lifetime and were given only easy calls for the remainder of your shift.
You helped load an elderly woman into the bed of the ambulance and assured her that your coworkers would take good care of her. She squeezed your hand before bidding you goodbye.
You closed the doors behind you and knocked on the side window.
The second ambulance had shown up, both of you having been called into the same location and they’d agreed to take the woman. He waved a hand and pulled out of the parking spot.
You looked at your watch and stretched out your sore shoulder. “And that’s a wrap folks, last call of the night,” you grinned. “I cannot wait to get home and sink into my couch. I’ll never leave that spot again.”
Walking passed a crowded area, you stopped in your tracks. “Wait - hold on!” You called out.
“What?” Daria, your partner for the day, asked. “Girl, if it’s someone who looks hurt call in another unit - I’ve been on for longer than I need to be.”
Laughing, you shook your head. “No - look!”
You usually rode with your best friend - both of you having gone through your certification together and everything since. Daria was friendly, but was still new to the crew and you hadn’t had the chance to really speak with her. She was, however, always professional and had one of the best bedside manners you’d ever seen.
“That’s it,” you said excitedly, walking towards the closed restaurant. It’s hours indicated that it should open within the hour. “This is where Peter got our reservations.”
“No shit?” Daria whistled. “This is the place? Looks fancy - figures, we’re on the Upper East Side.”
You grinned and turned to her. “You should see their website, the food looks amazing. I already know what I’m going to order.”
She leaned in over your shoulder to glance at the menu. “Jeez, this place doesn’t even list their prices on the menu. That’s how you know it’s too expensive for me.”
“Courtesy of Tony Stark,” you shrugged, smile still on your face. “I need to send him a thank you card.”
“You need to introduce me to your patron saint Tony Stark is what you need to do,” Daria grinned. “What anniversary is it?”
“Seven years.”
“Damn,” Daria shook her head and stopped walking to shoot you a disbelieving look. “Seven years? That’s unheard of now a days. How do you do it? I can’t even get a second date. Teach me your ways.”
You smiled and felt suddenly bashful. “I don’t...know?”
“Oh, come on!”
“No really,” you laughed and dodged her balled up napkin. “We’re high school sweethearts. I don’t really know what it’s like to not have him there.”
“Romantic,” she said, dryly.
You shrugged again and hopped into the passenger's seat to your ambulance.
“What’s it like then?” Daria pulled out of the lot and stopped at a light. “I’ve never made it passed three years. My high school boyfriend and I broke up because college got too hard - you know, being apart.”
“Peter and I went to different schools too but, it was different then. We were still giddy around each other. I don’t mean to be a cliche but, it feels like he’s my second half. He’s my best friend. I love him and I know he loves me, no matter what. He’s been...my entire world for a long time. It’s hard to describe.”
Daria grinned. “Yeah, I know, I see the way you two look at each other. That boy is definitely in love.”
“It’s not always easy,” you told her. “We don’t agree on most things.”
“I hear that,” Daria shook her head. “This girl I’ve been seeing, she’s very much about veganism and gives me all these talking tos. Don’t get me wrong, I love animals! You’ve met my rescue - but, I’m from the south baby. You can’t try to lecture me out of a good medium rare steak.”
You laughed and knocked her shoulder. “Daria!”
“What?” She grinned. “Oh, some ribs would be amazing right now. You want to swing by for some? I just got my new car and it still has that smell to it.”
“That’s how I know you’re from Georgia, you bought a car to drive in New York City,” you joked. “Us real New Yorkers know how to slum it on the subway.”
Daria rolled her eyes. “You try commuting from Westchester.”
“I might as well, Queens feels like it’s just as far.”
“So?” Daria expertly pulled into the ambulance bay and waved when a few of your coworkers shouted their greetings. “You up? I think Rob and Aziz are coming along.”
“Thanks but Peter’s picking me up,” you said. “Or at least he should be.”
Daria turned to glance at you and frowned at your expression. “What was that?”
You rolled your eyes as you made your way towards the locker room.
“He stood me up for dinner yesterday,” you explained. “Two hours later, he let me know a work emergency came up.”
“Aw, but if he’s not usually like that...you know better than anyone how some of us can get stuck with a patient. Besides, you two are the most solid couple - that I know anyway.”
Your face must have given off more than you’d like because she shoots you a concerned look. “Unless there’s something else going on?”
Trying to appease her and diffuse the awkward tension you stumbled for an answer.
“It’s just…” How could you explain to her that Spiderman sometimes weighed you down, more than you could handle? That the non-traditional life you’d both liked as teenagers wasn’t so appealing anymore as an adult? Even your own career - you were always getting hurt during your working hours.
You had too many aches for someone who was in their early twenties. Life felt very up in the air now, and while you weren’t looking for a picket fence with two point five kids and a golden retriever...a little stability would be nice.
Closing your locker, you sat down on the bench as you waited for her to finish up.
“It’s just, sometimes it feels like work will always be more important than me, you know? I’m not getting any younger.”
Daria smiled sympathetically. “I get it, but, seven years is a long time to keep something like that bottled up. I say talk to him about it - he may even surprise you. And stop trying to act like you’re old, you’re making me look bad.”
You thought it over as you walked out into the rec room and you nodded. “You’re right-”
“Hey Wonder Woman!” One of your coworkers shouted. You rolled your eyes - you had gotten the nickname after the infamous accident on the BQE.
You lifted your gaze, looking for whoever had called for you.
Finding Aziz in the far right corner, by the vending machines, you smiled.
“I found something that belongs to you,” he said, pointing to Peter who was standing by the entrance with a sheepish smile.
“Hey you,” he said once you got close enough.
“Hey,” you said quietly. “I thought we were going to meet in an hour? Didn’t you have that project?”
Peter shrugged. “I left early, I didn’t want you to have to wait for me.”
“I would’ve waited-”
“-I know, that’s why I didn’t want you to,” he said softly.
Glancing up at him, you found him smiling sadly at you.
“I’m sorry you had to wait for me so long yesterday, I promise, I’ll try my best so that it won’t happen again.”
You snorted. You knew that he’d meant it but, it’s not like he could schedule in when a robbery was going to take place. However, you knew that he genuinely meant it.
Peter tapped a finger on your chin, silently asking you to look at him.
“Are we okay?”
You smiled, not helping yourself.
“Yeah, Spiderman, we’re okay,” you whispered.
Peter beamed and pulled your face towards his.
You spent enough time deepening the kiss that a series of cheering and whistles came from behind you.
“Get a room you two!”
“It’s disgusting how in love you two are.”
“Seriously! You don’t need to rub it into our pathetically single faces!”
You laughed and buried your face into Peter’s chest. He shook with laughter and rose a hand.
“See you later assholes!” You yelled behind you raising a hand.
Loud kissing noises followed and you shook your head.
“Hey,” Peter said, burying his nose into your hair. “I’ve missed you.”
You smiled. “I missed you too.”
///
“Ugh,” you groaned as you lifted the heavy pan onto the stove top.
Work had been particularly hard the past few days - especially considering that you’d jumped at the chance at overtime since Peter had left on another spontaneous Avengers trip.
You lifted your shoulder methodically, rubbing at a particular sore spot and continued cooking.
Tonight was the first night all week that he’d be home for dinner. He’d promised he was going to be free from patrolling for a few nights after he got back – so you could both finally enjoy each other’s company.
While you rarely cooked, because you were one of the laziest people on earth, you were trying to make an effort. You knew how much he loved your chicken marsala so despite your aching shoulder – aching body really – you wanted to make it a good night. You’d even gone so far as to beg an hour early off of work to go across town to get dessert from his favorite bakery.
After a few more hours on your feet, you collapsed onto the couch. Chewie immediately jumped into your lap and purred loudly.
“I’m just going to shut my eyes for a second, just until he gets home,” you said around a yawn.
He meowed, kneading your leg. With the combination of the warmth and Chewie’s constant purring you were asleep within minutes.
You jolted awake at the sound of your neighbor’s door slamming shut, what felt like seconds later, and looked around feeling a little disoriented. Loud purring brought your attention down to Chewie, who was rubbing his head against your stomach.
Scratching his ears, you rubbed one of your eyes and noticed the sun had disappeared. You tapped your phone and your stomach sunk.
10:30PM - two hours passed the time Peter was supposed to be home. A text notification blinked menacingly at you.
Pressing it, you saw a voice note.
“Hey! I’m so, so, so sorry but I’m going to be a little late tonight. Something came up – Tony needed me - you know how it goes. I’ll make it up to you, I promise! Karen says hi! I love you!”
Karen cheerfully greeted you in the background, over the sound of sirens.
You sighed. You weren’t angry, or upset, not really. Just a little...disappointed. You missed him, after the last time he’d stood you up - you’d both taken time off to actively spend together. It seemed, however, like the cycle had started up again. You knew his excuse was valid but-
Meow.
You smiled down at Chewie and scratched under his chin.
“Guess it’s just us Chewie.”
He meowed loudly up at you and you grinned.
Despite your lack of anger, when you heard Peter sneak into the bathroom - groaning in pain a few hours later - you blinked up at the ceiling for a moment. You bit your bottom lip, turned towards the window, and closed your eyes.
You had an early shift tomorrow.
///
“Uber’s here!” Peter called out from the living room.
Cursing, you grabbed a set of boots and struggled to put them on. “I’m coming!”
Stumbling into the hallway, you smoothed your dress down and pulled on a sweater in case the restaurant was cold.
“Pete, does this sweater ruin the outfit?” You asked, pulling on one of the sleeves. When he didn’t answer, you looked up.
Peter was staring at you, that familiar wide eyed look you knew so well.
Smiling, you felt a little flustered - Peter always complimented you but seeing him stumble was just as satisfying.
“You- you look - you look-” Peter stuttered.
“What?” You asked innocently, running a hand down your waist. “This old thing?”
Peter smiled at your teasing and pretended to be deep in thought. “You know, on second thought, who needs to spend an anniversary at some fancy restaurant? I can think of a few different things we could do instead…”
“Oh no, Mister,” you danced away from his wandering hands. “We can do whatever you want after we go to dinner. I’ve wanted to go to this place since it opened and, at this point, I’d go without you to be honest.”
“Hey!” Peter protested as you shrugged on your coat.
“Come on!” You urged, laughingly. “Molten waits for no one!”
///
You sipped your drink while you waited by the bar when you felt something pinch you.
“Peter!” You squeaked as his wandering hand found your butt, for the third time, and you swatted at him. “We are in public behave yourself!”
His huff of laughter was muffled into your neck and he burrowed himself closer to you. “I can’t help it,” he whined. “You knew what you were doing when you wore that dress.”
You laughed and Peter smiled.
“Stark, party of two?” A light voice called out.
Peter lifted his hand and took yours with the other. “Finally.”
You rolled your eyes. “God, you’re impatient. It’s been five minutes.”
He turned around, winked and you rolled your eyes again.
“They’re going to get stuck like that,” he joked.
“Good, then you’ll know how I feel about you all the time.”
Before he could give an answering quip, the hostess sat you both down at a table by the window.
“Your server for this evening will be by shortly.”
“Thank you,” you smiled up at her.
She bustled away and you turned to look at Peter. “This place is so fancy, Jesus, that guy over there is in a suit!”
“I’m in a suit,” Peter said, offended.
“And you look very handsome-” Peter preened, “-but every time I passed by this place and thought, ‘Oh man I wish we could eat there, the reviews are great and the food looks amazing,’ I didn’t think it was this upscale.”
You fought your urge to start chewing on one of your freshly manicured nails. There were so many utensils you didn’t know which one to use. “Is my hair okay?” You asked him, patting down the spots where strays usually went.
Peter laughed lightly and grabbed one of your hands. “Stop worrying, who cares if we stick out? Your hair is fine and you look beautiful. One might even say you look amazefull.”
Beaming, you squeezed his hand and felt a rush of affection for him.
“Good evening, my name is Amber and I’ll be your server for this evening.” A tall slender blonde woman introduced herself, seemingly appearing out of thin air. “I have here that you two are celebrating an anniversary – congratulations! How long have you two been married?”
Peter’s cheeks flushed and mumbled: “Stark.”
You gave his hand a warning squeeze. “Thank you. We’re not married, we’ve been together for seven years as of a week ago.”
Amber apologized and congratulated you both before disappearing to get your drinks.
“Oh, husband, I didn’t know we were here celebrating our marriage.”
“It was Tony!” Peter squeaked.
“Are you sure?” You teased. “Should I be looking in my dessert for a ring? You should just tell me now in case I swallow it whole and accidentally choke on it.”
“I’m not- you’re not- I wouldn’t!” He stumbled over his words, face flushing pink.
You laughed, trying to muffle the noise with your hand and Peter glared at you.
“I’m sorry, it was too easy,” you grinned.
Peter reached out and tangled his hands in yours. “You know, you shouldn’t be so mean to me.”
You flipped through the menu with your free hand and smiled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re lucky I find that sexy,” Peter said loudly.
This time, you flushed, and glared at him. “Peter!”
He grinned and pretended not to have heard you. Before you could kick him under the table, an older man cleared his throat.
“I don’t mean to be a nosy old man,” he started.
“But you are!” A woman across from him said, she had a wide grin but she shook her head. “I’m sorry, he’s always been like this.”
“My name is Charles and this is my wife Margaret. You two remind me of my wife and I when we were younger,” he smiled kindly. “We were high school sweethearts. I couldn’t help but overhear and just had to say congratulations. We’re celebrating our 55th anniversary.”
Your eyes widened. “Congratulations!”
Peter smiled and leaned in closer. “What’s the secret?”
Charles’ eyes lit up and he shared a knowing look with his wife. “You gotta ask her to marry you before she smarts up and finds someone better!”
Margaret let out a laugh and nudged her husband. “Don’t pressure them, kids nowadays don’t live like we used to.”
Peter’s face flushed red and you laughed, delighted. “It’s no pressure at all. He’s asked actually, twice.”
It was a running joke in your circle of friends. Peter had asked you to marry him at your high school graduation and college graduation. You’d rejected him both times, to Tony’s everlasting amusement, telling him that you were both too young. You knew you were going to marry him one day, you just – Peter had a different idea of love.
Peter had grown up watching his parents and then watching Ben and Aunt May.
You, on the other hand, were the child of a nasty divorce. While you had great relationships with both your parents, you’d learned to become cautious when it came to marriage.
Despite your rejection, both proposals were good memories.
Margaret’s laughter pulled you back into the conversation. “Poor guy, you got him waiting around?” She joked.
Peter, still red-faced, smiled kindly. “I’d wait an eternity for her.”
This time you flushed and you beamed at him.
“Besides, it’s her turn to ask next.”
You laughed, nodded, and took a sip of your drink.
“Aw, he’s a sweetheart. You’re both sweethearts,” Margaret looked pleased. “You two are one of the good ones, I know it.”
“Now who’s being nosy?” Her husband joked.
“Don’t start!”
Amber placed your glasses down onto your table and a few complimentary snacks. You thanked her and quickly started on a few pieces of bread.
Moaning, you closed your eyes. “Even the bread is amazing. Try that sauce, it looks like liquid gold - Peter?”
Peter had a distant look in his eyes, one that was painfully familiar.
“Pete?” You took his hand and squeezed.
He blinked, eyes refocusing on you. His grip on you tightened and his face went serious.
“Code red and blue,” he said quietly.
“Now?” You asked incredulously. “Peter, you can’t be serious.”
He opened his mouth but before he could’ve said anything, a series of muffled popping noises came from beyond the door. Half a second later loud screams echoed from the front of the restaurant.
“You need to trust me. Something’s coming,” Peter said quickly, “I can’t make out what but-”
The unmistakable sound of gunshots boomed and shortly after, the entire front window to the restaurant shattered as a car flew through it. Peter lunged across the table, grabbed you under your arms and flung you both backwards.
Only years of practice had you clinging onto his torso and going pliant in his grip, knowing that it was easier for him to maneuver you that way. You felt him move quickly and he landed behind the counter of the second bar.
“Go!” He yelled at a few frightened employees, hiding. “Go through the kitchens! Take anyone you find with you!”
“Peter,” you patted his chest, looking for any injuries. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, are you-”
“I’m good,” you took deep breaths, trying to steady yourself. “What was that?”
Peter peeked over the counter and you followed suit.
The entire restaurant was in chaos. The people who’d avoided the cars trajectory ran wildly in panic. The majority of people were thrown across the room. The smoke from the crashed car was filling the room quickly.
“I think it’s a robbery but I’m not sure-” he was cut off by a buzzing. He fumbled for his phone and you caught Tony’s picture.
“Hello? Yeah - we’re both okay. I think it’s just a drunk driver- it’s what?” Peter shouted over the noise of the room. “Yeah, I’ve got it. I’m on my way - I’ll meet you at the bank.”
Peter shoved his hands into his pockets, searching for something and coming up with a comms unit. He placed it into your hand and pointed to your ear.
“Put that in - you’ll be able to hear anyone on the line soon enough. It’ll activate when Karen’s online.”
“Wait - Peter, what happened?”
Peter began shrugging off his jacket and huffed. “A group of enhanced ex-CIA have been hitting banks along the east coast. We thought they would skip over New York because of Tony but they hit his bank instead.”
“Ballsy,” you huffed, helping him shed his twisted jacket. “He’s on his way?”
Peter nodded, checking his watch and waiting to activate his suit. “I’m going to get that car out the front so the ambulances can get to the injured. Tony says a few of them have regular agents with them - they’re the ones shooting. Stay safe and do not put your life on the line for someone else.”
You snorted. “I could say the same to you.”
Peter glared at you and went to scramble for the kitchen doors. “I’ll find you when I can. I love you.”
You grabbed Peter’s tie and pulled him towards you, kissing him quickly. “Please, be careful.”
“You too,” he kissed you again and disappeared through the kitchen.
Taking a few deep breaths, you straightened your shoulders. Your training kicked in and you steadied. You kicked your feet against the cornered wall, breaking off your heels and you pulled your hair into a hasty knot.
A loud screeching sound from behind you indicated that Peter had started pulling the crushed car from it’s place. Time to move.
You stood, crouched over and glanced around for any serious injuries first. Your eyes found Charlie. Pushing passed a few panicked people, you maneuvered your way to him.
“Thank God,” Charlie said when he saw you, voice trembling. “Someone pushed her and she can’t get up.”
You saw Margaret sprawled out on the floor, her leg bent an odd angle. “Don’t worry, I’m an
paramedic. I am going to help you the best I can.” You worked quickly, securing her leg and making sure she had no other visible injuries.
“That should hold. She’s in shock Charlie, so I need you to keep this around her.” You wrapped a few tablecloths around her tightly. “First responders should be here within a few minutes, it’s already been five minutes so far and the block has been cleared. She doesn’t look to have any other injuries, keep her talking. I’ll come back to you as soon as I can.”
He nodded, focused expression on his face. “Be careful.”
You glanced around at two women a few feet away. One was holding a napkin to the other’s abdomen and crying loudly.
You straightened your shoulders, let’s get to work.
///
A few minutes, or hours - you had lost any grasp on time that you’d had - a team of first responders rushed into the restaurant.
A woman, one you faintly recognized from a unit in Midtown, grabbed your shoulder. You shook her off and continued to apply pressure to your patient’s shoulder. Listing off your badge number and hospital, you started giving out instructions.
“I got a few GSWs, multiple broken bones but I’ve tied red napkins to those who I think are more serious. You should take those first - the rest are injuries that can wait,” you instructed.
She nodded, relaying the information into her radio. “What about this one?”
“This is Lila, she’s seventeen and going to Yale in the fall. Kinda of a smartypants but I like her.”
The teenager smiled weakly and groaned as the EMT worked to secure a neck brace around her neck.
“She was waiting to be sat when one of the first gunshots hit her. It missed her artery, but it doesn’t have an exit.”
She quickly takes over and you head towards the next critical case to help in anyway you can.
By the time the police close off the street and most of the critical cases were taken out - you were exhausted and your shoulder was killing you.
By some miracle, you managed to not lose your phone or wallet but your keys were somewhere in the remains of the restaurant.
You didn’t realize how much adrenaline you had pumping until you were coming down from it and the familiar impending crash had you slumping.
A lingering EMT glanced at you and wrapped a space blanket around you. A loud voice called out your name and you darted around, looking towards the sound.
Charlie waved and you smiled. Jogging over to them, you saw that the EMT had already hooked her up to a drip, probably administering a pain reliever.
“Thank you dear, you were incredible in there,” Charlie told you, motioning towards the paramedic. “She’s one of you too, she helped set my wife’s leg.”
The guy glanced at you and nodded. “I’ve seen you around - Brooklyn right?”
You nodded and winced when your shoulder was jostled. He straightened and eyed you critically. “You hurt? Have you been looked at?”
You huffed, a puff of air shooting out into the cold air. “I’m fine.”
He hummed disbelievingly. “How about you ride with your friends in the back? Mount Sinai is only a five minute ride.”
Frowning, you were about to reject the offer but Charlie shot you a stern look. “Young lady, you need to be looked at by a doctor.”
Feeling chagrined and mostly exhausted, you nodded. “Alright, alright, I’ll go.”
Charlie beamed and climbed into the back of the truck. You waved off the helping hand and hauled yourself into the back corner.
True to his word, you make it to the hospital in a few minutes. You helped Charlie into the right room and stumbled back out into the medic bay - needing a breath of fresh air.
The cold woke you up and you searched your pockets for your half-shattered phone. A small clear earbud fell out by your feet and you picked it up.
Suddenly you remembered the comms and shoved it into your ear.
It takes a few moments but a cheerful Karen greeted you by name and tuned you into the main line. Announcing you, a surprisingly calm Natasha huffed.
“Where’ve you been? Peter said he gave you comms an hour ago,” Natasha huffed. “We thought you’d been hit.”
“Sorry,” you said, already rushing out towards the main avenue on your left. “I was taken to Mount Sinai, where are you guys?”
“What?” Peter squeaked and grunted right after.
“Not for me,” you said quickly. “Our table-neighbors. I rode with them.”
“We’re five blocks from the restaurant, these idiots have a lot more firepower than we thought,” Tony interrupted. “Go towards your left on Broadway.”
“Who’s on the line?” You veered left.
“Hey kiddo,” Steve’s voice came through, gunshots evident from his side.
“On your left Romanoff!” Bucky yelled.
“You were just waiting until all the heavy lifting was done,” Sam joked. You looked up and could make out a faint outline of wings. You followed his trajectory and could hear more gunshots from your left.
“I’m on a roof a few avenues down from you if you want to join me. I got an extra crossbow,” Clint said.
You laughed, despite the situation and slowly jogged towards Clint. “Thanks but we all know what happened the last time you guys gave me a bow and arrow.”
“I thought the fire feature was off!” Tony said defensively. “How was I supposed to know she was going to destroy half the floor?”
“What can I do?”
“How’s your shoulder?” Natasha asked. “You got anything on you?”
“It’s fine.” You frowned. “Most of my stuff is in whatever’s left of the restaurant.”
“Incoming!” Sam yelled.
You looked up and saw Sam dive towards you. He landed gracefully on your right and huffed, out of breath.
“You good?” You asked, hands already reaching for a nasty gash on his head.
“Yeah,” he leaned into your touch and almost slumped into you. “Just a little tired. It’d be easier if we had Wanda.”
“Where is she?”
“Wakanda with Vision,” Tony answered for you.
“Alright, this is all I got for you - just in case. Stay tight on the ground - one of us will need you at some point.” Sam dropped a small first aid duffel that you knew Clint carried in the quintjet and a few guns.
“I do not need five guns,” you said, pushing all but one back to him. “I’d end up shooting myself in the ass or something.”
Sam laughed but before he could’ve said anything - you were both jolted by Tony’s shout.
“Back up - I need some back up!” Tony wheezed.
Sam winked at you and took off a millisecond later. You glanced around, looking for somewhere that you could stick to without being too close to ground zero.
“You want some company?” You asked Clint.
“Sure, take the entrance on 6th - the elevator will only take you to the 10th floor. You gotta climb out to the roof.”
“Roger that, be there in five,” you said, taking off towards the building where you could now see multiple arrows being shot off from.
Before you could make it to the door, you heard Peter’s voice.
“I think I got a chance, Sam cover me.”
“Wait, Parker!” Tony said.
You glanced up towards the building where they had managed to corner the leader to. You saw Iron Man’s suit zooming towards a blue-skinned, angry figure. Before he could get there, Peter swung into view.
“Stop! Look at his left-”
You couldn’t make out what was happening from your point of view. Glancing around, you noticed a crowd of people behind a police car, watching a cluster of TVs. You ran towards the them, where all the television units reflected Peter swinging towards the leader. He managed to get a few punches in before he was swiped and thrown off camera. Your stomach clenched and Tony screamed out.
Finally, a bright blue blast of energy shot out and hit it’s target. Peter dropped limply and his pained groan echoed in your ear. The crowd around you gasped and your eyes welled up.
You watched as one of the henchmen grabbed him and flung him aside like a rag doll.
“Peter!” You screamed, voice hoarse.
“Kid!” Tony schotued, his red suit going after the man who’d swiped at Peter. “I got him - Sam - take the others! Anyone have eyes on the Parker?”
Jumping over an NYPD barrier, you dodged an angry police officer.
You faintly heard Natasha yelling: “She’s got clearance, let her go!”
Running as fast as you could towards the direction you last saw Peter, your chest heaved. You heard your name being called through the comms but you ignored them all.
Your heart stopped as you saw Peter lying on the ground, motionless. Your brain, which had been running on a hundred throughout the whole night, seemed to empty the second it saw Peter’s body. You don’t even move to his side until Tony screamed at you through your comms.
“Peter?” You said quietly, your trembling hand going to his face. You tore the mask off and blanched when you saw how pale he was.
“Friday?” You called out.
“Yes Miss,” she responded in your ear.
“Is he - does he have a pulse?” You asked, voice cracking, not able to bring yourself to check.
The beat of silence before Friday answered you was one of the longest moments of your life.
“Yes, his BPM is currently at sixty.”
You slumped over, a sob trapping itself in your throat.
Invigorated, you clamored over him to check him for any obvious critical injuries. Your hand brushed against something wet and you quickly focused towards it. Ignoring the minor injuries, you looked towards his lower waist. Pulling on his suit to get a better look, you gaped at the sight.
Earlier in the week, you’d treated a teenage boy who had managed to break his collarbone. It had snapped and broken through his shoulder. Last week, you and Daria had found that a man had gotten his hand stuck in a garbage disposal. You’d helped Tony with multiple medical cases - to say that you’ve seen your fair share of grotesque injuries was putting it mildly.
But - at the sight of the gaping hole in Peter’s lower abdomen, with chunks of singed skin falling easily, you immediately clamored a few feet away and promptly threw up all the contents in your stomach. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand a few seconds later and tried to take deep steadying breaths. You opened your eyes and almost screamed at the sight of red streaks on your knees.
You looked around and realized you’d been kneeling in a puddle of Peter’s blood. Your eyes went back to the torn flesh and the sob finally made its way out your throat.
“Peter - Peter oh my God,” your vision darkened, a sign of your blood pressure dropping and you willed yourself to stay conscious.
“F-Friday, what’s his vitals?” You asked, ripping off your sweater and uselessly using it to apply pressure to the wound. Instantly, your sweater was soaked with his blood.
“Blood pressure is dropping, pulse is slowing, death is imminent without further treatment. Transfusion is strongly recommended.”
“He’s losing too much b-blood-” You heard yourself stutter out. “I-I can’t carry him.”
You sat, gaping at him, frozen. You couldn’t lose him - he couldn’t die. He couldn’t. But you couldn’t make your hands move.
Out of all the moments to freeze, you couldn’t understand why it had to be now. But no matter how much you tried to focus, your mind seemed stuck in a state of shock. It was like you had left your body and was watching everything from a different perspective.
Suddenly, Peter’s eyes fluttered open when you pushed a little harder into his wound and he groaned. His glazed eyes looked towards you, not seeing anything. Suddenly your brain whirred to life and you pressed your fingers into his neck, feeling for his slow pulse.
“It’s me,” you said brokenly. “I’m here, I’m trying to h-help – stay still.”
His eyes slipped closed and you felt him go limp.
“Come on, dammit,” you cursed. “He’s losing too much blood Tony...he’s not going to make it if we don’t move him now.”
“I’ve got it!” You heard Natasha scream.
“Go Tony, go!” Steve urged.
Your voice was trembling and your hands tried to keep the wounds compressed but you were starting to lose it again. You knew, logically, that his odds weren’t good. You didn’t know what other injuries he had and you had no way of stopping the bleeding. You glanced down at his limp body and started to cry. You recognized, as any other paramedic would know in a situation like this one, that he was going to die. You could hear your professor’s voice - “Sometimes all you can do is make them comfortable.”
Angrily, you pushed that memory to the back of your head and looked around helplessly for anything that could staunch the bleeding.
Friday’s voice pulled you out of your chaotic panic. “Mr. Stark is two minutes away.”
“Where the hell are you?” You screamed.
“I’m on my way, he had me cornered. I can take him back to the tower.”
“Tony – he’s losing too much blood. It’s – he’s dying,” you choked out, voice hysterical. “He’s going to be dead in a few minutes.”
“Keep it together soldier,” he said sternly. “I can see you now, look up.”
You craned your neck and saw a red dot growing bigger as it flew towards you.
“Fuck.”
Instantly, little nanobots detached from his suit and planted themselves to Peter’s body. “It’ll help with the bleeding until I get to the tower,” he explained.
Tony lifted Peter up as well as he could and glanced at you. “Natasha, Clint and Steve are stuck distracting the entourage. I took out the leader - Bucky or Sam is coming for you. He’s going to be okay, I promise.”
“Tony please,” you croaked.
“I know kid, I know,” Tony’s mask fell back down and he was gone.
You looked down at your trembling blood-stained hands and the puddle of blood you were kneeling in. Your dress was torn, your knees skinned and one of your ankles was starting to swell. But all you could think about was Peter’s cold skin and vacant look.
It’s all your fault. You cried, alone, and covered in Peter’s blood. It’s all your fault.
You don’t know how long you sit there, half-out of your mind, when a warm hand touched your shoulder.
“Come on doll, I got you,” Bucky said quietly. “I got you.”
///
You have close to no recollection to how you arrived at the Stark Tower. One moment, Bucky was picking you up off the street and then you were being ushered off a helicopter and into the medical bay.
Steve plucked you out of Natasha and Bucky’s arms and hugged you tightly. You buried your face into his chest and clung back.
“Wanda’s on her way back,” Steve said. “She’s almost here. Tony went to get May. He’s in surgery with Bruce. It’ll be okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
The next time you managed to come back to consciousness, you were being led out of a waiting area and into a large room. Peter’s bruised and pale body had a intubation tube and so many wires attached to his body that you were dizzy just looking at him. The monitor behind him beeped unobtrusively. You squinted, taking in as much information as you could.
A frowning, dark skinned woman with long braided hair popped up on a screen in front of Tony.
“Move him to the side Tony, what are his vitals? Did you manage to attach the artificial veins in surgery?”
You watched them move around in a flurry – Dr. Banner eventually walked in, offering help to Tony when he started throwing an angry fit.
You, on the other hand, felt like you’d had your heart scooped out and dropped onto the bed next to Peter’s lifeless body. It seemed like the only thing you were able to do was watch his chest rise and fall. You weren’t aware of anything around you. You could faintly hear your blood rushing, your erratic pulse and hitched breath.
How could it have gotten this bad? How could you just stand on the sidelines and watch him do this to himself? Year after year...you were always there to pick up the pieces. You’d never thought about a time that there wouldn’t be anything to put back together.
Most importantly - how could you have saved so many lives that night but failed him?
A voice eventually pierced your fog. “Sweetheart, are you sure you don’t want anything? You haven’t eaten in hours.” You mechanically looked up to see Pepper’s empathetic face.
“Does it get easier?” You asked her, your voice dull. “Seeing them like that? Feeling this useless?”
Her eyes darted to where Tony stood, brows furrowed over one of his charts. Pepper’s pretty face contorted into something sad and remorseful.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Is it worth it?” You asked, eyes returning back to Peter. “Watching someone you love this much destroy themselves?”
There was a beat of silence and a soft sigh. “Not all the time.”
///
You must have fallen asleep because when you woke up, you found Aunt May sitting across from you. Someone had brought her a chair and she was clutching Peter’s hand tightly.
“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” she said quietly.
You glanced around and realized you were alone. “May - this...this is all my fault.” You said brokenly. “I found him first and I just sat there...I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Aunt May hugged you with a ferocity you’d never seen. “This is not your fault sweetheart, don’t beat yourself up. You did the best you could and that’s all anyone could ever ask for.”
Despite her warm embrace and comforting words you couldn’t help but watch Peter over her shoulder.
It’s all your fault.
///
The next morning, you’d managed to finally drink something and change out of your bloody clothes. You were coming out the bathroom when you saw Steve and Wanda, sitting on a couch in the waiting area.
“Hey,” your voice was hoarse from all the crying you’d done. “What are you two still doing here?”
“We wanted to be here - in case you needed us,” Steve said.
Wanda stood and outstretched her arms. “Oh, I’m sorry little one,” she said quietly. Steve wrapped his arms around both of you and your throat tightened.
“Is there an update?” Steve asked.
You frowned. “Tony says that he lost too much blood. They had to put him into a medically induced coma to help the brain swelling and now...we need to wait to see if he’ll wake up on his own. Bruce said he’d go back in to help some of the damage to his liver but he needs to give him a few days to recover from the first surgery. They did a skin graft from his leg but everything seems to be holding...we don’t know why he hasn’t woken up yet.”
“Hey, if I know Tony as well as I know I do - I know he won’t rest until Peter’s out of the forest. Don’t lose faith.”
You felt Wanda’s hold on you tighten.
“It’s my fault,” you said, the words tumbling out of your mouth miserably. “I helped half of those people in the restaurant. I helped save their lives and I couldn’t save his.”
“Hey, hey,” Steve tapped your chin. “Not everyone reacts to situations in the same way. A normal civilian wouldn’t have been able to even save those people in the restaurant. You did because you were trained to do so. I was a mess after I thought Bucky had died - it’s not the same when it’s your family.”
You heard him, and knew that there had to be some truth to them, but your brain was stuck in a loop and no one could convince you otherwise.
Instead of answering, you just held tightly onto your two friends, letting them hold you up for a moment.
///
After a few days with no change with his condition - you had to go home to get a change of clothes.
Ned had promised he’d take care of Chewie, but you knew it’d do you both some good if you saw him even if only for a few minutes.
As if on cue, the second you opened the door, you found Chewie trying to climb up your leg.
“Hey boy, I’m sorry I’ve been gone,” you said, bending down to pick him up. He meowed loudly at you, disgruntled almost. You laughed, surprised at yourself.
“Dad got hurt,” you told him and he went quiet. You rubbed his head and tried to keep your tears at bay. “I don’t know if he’s going to be okay but, I gotta be with him until he’s better.”
Chewied meowed and his swishing tail brushed against your arm.
You pulled out a few treats for him and went to grab a few fresh shirts when you tripped, going head first into the wall.
Annoyed, you looked down to see a discarded shirt from a few days ago. You bent down to pick it up and slid down the wall, your mind blank. You brought it to your face and smelled a faint trace of Peter’s cologne.
Tears pooled in your eyes and you bit down on your lip.
Don’t people run out of tears at one point? Why were you a bottomless pool?
Your phone rang, the sound was jilting enough to bring you out of your head. You reached for it and didn’t look at who was calling you.
“Yeah?”
“He’s awake.”
///
“It took a little longer than expected, but his body is showing clear signs of recovery,” Bruce said to you and Aunt May.
“Why did he take so much longer to wake up?” She asked, worrying her lip between her teeth.
Bruce smiled kindly. “His body was just resting, we underestimated the damage done and his body needed to heal before it would allow him to wake up.”
“But he’ll recover? Fully?”
Bruce nodded. “He resisted treatment initially but it’s taking well now. He’s got a long road ahead of him - I’ve already scheduled multiple appointments with great physical therapists that I’ve worked with in the past - but bottom line, he’ll be just fine.”
You let out a small sound at that and Bruce turned to you. His eyes sympathetic and he smiled widely at you.
“He’s okay, he’s absolutely okay.”
Aunt May burst into tears and hugged Bruce tightly.
“Thank you so much, thank you-” she sobbed.
Bruce smiled and led her into Peter’s room, where you could faintly see his outline.
You wanted to give May a few minutes with him to herself but Bruce emerged and beckoned you in. “He’s been asking for you since he opened his eyes.”
Feeling overwhelmingly happy, and guilty, you took small steps into the room.
You didn’t manage to get a word in, with Aunt May speaking a mile a minute, but you were happy to sit at his bedside and just take him in. The others had given you three some privacy but after a while, they’d started to trickle in one by one.
Once everyone had made their rounds, the three of you ended up alone again. Aunt May yawned widely and you reached over to squeeze her hand.
“I’m fine,” she waved off your worry. “Tony had a nice bed set up for me to take a nap on.”
“Aunt May, why don’t you go home for a little bit?” You asked. “Get a good night’s sleep and we can trade off tomorrow morning?”
Immediately, she protested, flustered and pretending not to yawn again.
Peter, with practiced patience, assured Aunt May that he was okay and that she could go home without worrying that something would happen to him.
She had tried to entice you into coming with her but you’d waved off her offers.
You sat in the rigid chair by Peter’s bed and kept your eyes on his hands. Tony and Bruce had come in after May’s departure to administer his nightly meds.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” you said, your voice audibly shaking.
“Are you okay?”
No.
Your eyes darted up to his and you laughed incredulously. “You’re the one in a hospital bed – you’re the one who almost-” Your voice gave out. You can’t say it – you can’t.
You weren’t naive. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten hurt, he’d probably seen worse, but this was the first time you’d seen it first hand. This was the first time he’d almost died in your arms because of you inability to help him.
“Hey.” Peter’s hand came up to your chin and he smiled brightly at you. “I’m okay.”
You nodded, still numb.
He’s okay.
///
You were on a roof, the same roof you always found yourself on. It was dark, cold and smoke encased your feet. You felt your pulse racing and your head was throbbing. You looked down and you were drenched in blood. You faintly hear Peter scream out your name.
“Peter!” You yelled out, looking for him. “Peter where are you?”
Smoke billowed around you as you swung wildly. A pained groan came from your left.
“Peter!” You sobbed. He stood at the edge of the roof, a gaping wound on his shoulder. “Peter!”
“Why didn’t you help me?” Peter asked, his voice cracking.
“I’m sorry, I tried...I’m sorry!”
“This is all your fault.”
You ran towards him, your heart beating wildly. You outstretched your hand and Peter gasped.
“Help me! Help me!” He yelled painfully.
“Peter!” You screamed as his body disappeared off the ledge.
“No!” You yelled, trying to reach the edge but never getting any closer. “No! Peter! I’m sorry! Please!”
You heard him scream your name. Again and again and again.
Gasping, you darted up, the covers tangled around you feet. Your chest was heaving and your throat was on fire. You looked around frantically and found Peter at the foot on the bed, his crutches leaning against the foot board. He was watching you, worried.
“I’m sorry,” you said hoarsely. “Was I screaming again?”
“I’ve been trying to wake you up for a while now.” Peter nodded, his eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
You shook your head and released the sheets clutched in your fists. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Same nightmare?” Peter asked eventually.
“Yeah,” you sighed. Your face was wet with tears, your throat rasped from your screaming and your muscles ached from the tension.
“Hey,” Peter said, rubbing a comforting hand across your leg. “It’ll get better.”
“I hope so.”
///
The metallic red and blue banner was obnoxious. You had no doubt that Tony had done it purposefully.
In big block letters it said: Congratulations on your comeback.
“Pepper said it would be inappropriate to have a ‘congrats on not dying’ banner,” Tony told you and Sam.
Sam snorted and took a sip of his whiskey. “Yeah, good call.”
Tony’s name was called and he was whisked away. You could hear Peter laughing with Steve and Natasha a few feet to your left and you couldn’t help but reflexively smile.
“I think that’s the first real smile I’ve seen on you in a few months,” Sam said matter-of-fact.
You glanced up at him and let the smile fade, his dark eyes watching you steadily.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mmhmm,” he hummed.
Your eyes trailed over to Peter, his curls combed into submission and his eyes bright. He caught your look and smiled his dopey smile at you. You gave him a tight smile in return and turned back to Sam.
“See, that – that’s what you’ve been trying to pass off.” Sam nudged your elbow with his own. “You can tell me, I’m good at keeping secrets.”
It was true. Sam was everyone’s go to person when it came to any heavy emotional turmoil. You and Peter had once agreed that it was his steady and easy air about him. It made you want to trust him.
You motioned towards the windows on the far right and he followed. Turning to lean your back against the railing, you caught Pepper and Tony with their arms around each other. They were laughing at something Rhodey had said.
“I wonder how they do it,” you said to Sam quietly. He followed your gaze and nodded.
“It’s not easy,” he snorted. “Trust me.”
You understood what it was like to love someone enough to look passed their flaws. You’d loved Peter since you were sixteen. You loved him before Spiderman. Shit, you loved him despite Spiderman.
“What do I do Sam?” You asked him, wanting someone to just tell you the right answer. Tell you how to stop having nightmares of Peter’s death. Someone to tell you how to stop reliving that night, over and over again.
He looked at you, really looked, and you closed your eyes.
“I didn’t hear you ask a question,” he said, smile evident in his voice.
You smiled faintly and his warm hand came up to your shoulder.
“Sometimes, you gotta do what’s right for you. Whatever that is,” he sighed and dropped his hand. “If that’s staying where you are, great. If it means changing up the pieces of your board game, then that’s what you have to do. Not everyone was built for this life and that’s okay. Hey, look at me.”
You opened your eyes and saw his sad smile.
“You listening? It’s okay to put yourself first - no matter what.”
Nodding, you cradled the wine glass to your chest and pushed a wide grin onto your face when Peter made his way over to you.
“Nice cane kid,” Sam said, eyeing the obnoxious gold bedazzled cane that Tony had given Peter a few weeks back - once he had graduated out of crutches.
“Thanks!” Peter smiled.
Sam shot you a smile and made his way over to Steve.
“Hey, you okay?” Peter reached out for your hand.
You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. You?”
He grinned. “Tony wants to introduce you to someone-”
///
“Our supervisor just left, he keeps screwing us over,” you said, frustrated. You pushed your food around on your plate.
MJ hummed, chewing on her burger slowly. You frowned and picked at the label on your drink.
“He’s never cared about all the slack we have to pick up with him gone.”
“Maybe because you don’t speak up,” MJ said.
You glanced at her and shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s hard to confront people like that.”
She nodded and sipped her water. Your phone vibrated and you turned it over, silencing it. MJ just watched and said nothing.
“What?” You asked defensively.
“Are you going to tell me what’s really wrong or are we just going to keep talking about our jobs like we give a shit about it?” MJ asked nonchalantly, grabbing some of your lunch off your plate.
“I-I don-”
“Don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking about. We haven’t eaten lunch together in months,” MJ said.
“Because you work in Queens! It’s like a two hour commute to get to you!” You said exclaimed.
“I know, that’s why we stopped going back and forth and catch up on the weekends. So clearly something has changed.”
You frowned. “I…” You risked a look at her and immediately looked back down at your plate. “Peter’s done with his physical therapy next Wednesday. He’s been bouncing around the apartment all week about it.”
“Okay?”
“It’s just-” You tapped the table rhythmically. “He wants to start patrolling again soon.”
“Ah,” MJ nodded and pointed, “there it is. You think it’s too soon?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed. “It’s way too soon! I don’t know what he’s thinking - there was a hole in his body and he wants to act like it’s nothing. I-I can’t understand how he’s not worried about it- Tony isn’t either and you know how he follows Tony’s lead.”
“Hey, hey,” MJ’s hand grabbed yours and you realized you were breathing heavily. “It’s okay, deep breaths.”
Your exhale came out stuttered and choppy but you managed to relax your shoulders a little.
“I think you need to talk to him about how you feel,” MJ said.
“I can’t, it’s ultimately up to him,” you said quietly and lowered your voice. “I haven’t had anything to do with Spider-Man for a long time.”
MJ rolled her eyes. “Yes, but you two are building a life together and you should both make decisions together.”
“I don’t know, sometimes it feels like I’m the only thing that doesn’t fit perfectly into this vision. It’s like I realized how much I haven’t liked it and now it’s too late to say anything. That’s not his fault.”
“Yeah but-”
A loud, sudden, clattering noise came from behind you and you threw yourself against the window.
“Whoa, hey, it’s okay. Someone dropped a bunch of plates, you’re okay,” MJ placed a tentative hand on your shoulder.
You unfurled yourself and glanced behind you. A handful of waiters were picking up the broken ceramic pieces. You looked around you, most people looking unbothered. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths.
“Sorry,” you said quietly, feeling small. “The nightmares are really messing with my sleep and the whole thing is becoming a little too much.”
“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” she said fiercely.
You nodded, barely listening, and focused on calming your pounding heart.
Your waiter came over with the bill a few tense moments later. You both leave a few bills and head towards the subway on the corner.
“Can you...not tell Peter? I want to work through it myself before - you know? Make sure of what’s happening.”
MJ shot you a skeptical look and nodded. “Of course and if you need me, you know where to find me.”
You smiled weakly and hugged her tightly. She hooked her chin over your shoulder and sighed.
“You need to help yourself,” she said, tone serious. “And you need to tell him what’s going on. You owe each other after all this time to be honest about the big things.”
“A Manhattan bound express train is one station away.”
Stepping back from her, you felt her hand tighten on your wrist.
“If you don’t talk to Peter, at least promise me that you’re going to consider talking to someone. If the nightmares are affecting you to the point that you can’t function…” she trailed off. “I know what it’s like to have a panic attack, it’s not fun. Promise me you’ll talk to someone.”
You felt odd about therapy but found yourself nodding. “I promise.”
The sound of your train arriving had you waving and rushing down the steps.
///
“That was amazing,” you moaned, rubbing your stomach.
Peter grinned. “Of course it was, I’ve been perfecting my recipe since last month.”
“Well, if I didn’t love you before, I sure as hell love you now,” you joked.
“My dad always did say that mom loved him best when he cooked for her,” he smiled.
You reached over and intertwined your fingers together. Smiling softly, you traced circles into his palm. “Thank you.”
He smiled at you, eyes shining and nodded.
“I’ll wash up, a deal’s a deal.” You transferred Chewie onto his lap and cleared the table.
Peter stretched and stood, following you into the kitchen. “I could help-”
“Hey, the one who cooks doesn’t clean, you know the drill. Just sit over there and look pretty,” you winked.
Peter laughed and rubbed Chewie’s head. “Yes ma’am. Hey, that reminds me-”
“Wait, your phone,” you motioned with a soapy hand to Peter’s phone on the counter. Tony’s face flashed under Iron Man and you shot him a look.
Peter shrugged and pulled himself onto the counter next to you.
“Hello?”
“Parker! Did you leave yet?” You heard Tony shout.
You straightened. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.
Peter’s face broke out into a wide grin. “No, not yet. I was going to tell her right when you called. Yes, I won’t forget. Okay, thanks. See you tomorrow.”
“What was that about?” You asked, forcing your voice to be casual.
“I was just about to tell you,” Peter beamed at you, eyes lighting up. “I’ve been cleared! Tony gave me a new suit and said I could start to ease back into patrolling. It’s been so long and I’m so psyched to get back out there! You know-”
Peter’s voice faded into white noise and all you could see is his body flying through the air. Your heart dropped into your stomach and you froze.
“Hey - you okay?” Peter’s voice pulled you out of your panic.
“Yeah,” you croaked. “So, you’re going tonight? Like...right now?”
Peter nodded. “Yeah, just for a few hours. I’ll be back soon, I don’t want to over do it.” He jumped off the counter and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m going to go get ready.”
Your blood rushed through your ears and you felt a little light-headed. Shutting off the water and leaving the remaining plates in the sink, you dragged yourself towards the kitchen table. You dropped into the seat by the window and tried to get your heart to stop racing.
Stop it, you scolded yourself. You promised you’d always be supportive of Spiderman. You knew what you were getting into. You’re being negative. Nothing is going to happen, he knows what he’s doing.
You continue to try to convince yourself when Peter popped up in the hallway.
“I’ll be back soon okay? Wish me luck!” Peter smiled.
His sincerity broke your heart but you were practically choking on your panic. Nodding, you lifted a hand and waved until he darted down the hall.
“Don’t wait up!” He called out before closing the door.
Breathe, you inhaled deeply, like Sam had taught you. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Identify the trigger and find a solution.
Peter could get hurt.
Peter has patrolled multiple times before with minor injuries, you countered.
Exhaling, you gripped the table so hard your knuckles paled.
Peter could die and you wouldn’t be there to help.
The dark parts inside you laughed. You were there last time and you didn’t help.
Before you could stop them, the intrusive thoughts assaulted you and you started to spiral downward.
It was all your fault. He’s going to die….he’s going to die.
A loud ringing interrupted your spiraling and it took you a moment to realize it wasn’t in your head. You looked around for your phone and saw MJ’s face on your screen. Rejecting the call, you padded into the living room and looked through your missed messages.
MJ is the Best Ever [10:45PM]: Ned told me Peter started up again, you okay?
MJ is the Best Ever [10:51PM]: Hello???
MJ is the Best Ever [10:55PM]: If you’re not answering me that means you didn’t talk to him about it.
MJ is the Best Ever [10:57PM]: Are you alive???
MJ is the Best Ever [10:59PM]:You’re freaking me out
MJ is the Best Ever [11:40PM]:I’ll call Peter if you don’t answer me!
You typed out a quick response, letting her know that you were okay just a little shaken up.
MJ is the Best Ever [11:50PM]: You can’t continue on like this forever - talk to him!
You stared down at your phone and at your trembling hands. MJ was right, you couldn’t go on forever. You didn’t want to get used to his patrolling again just to have another accident happen. You wanted to break the cycle but didn’t know how.
MJ is the Best Ever [10:51PM]: JUST TALK TO HIM.
You huffed and stuck your tongue out at your phone.
Chewie jumped into your lap and looked up at you curiously. You rubbed a hand down his back and sighed.
“Alright Chewie, I’m going to do it. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. He’s my best friend, I know he’ll understand what I’m talking about.” Chewie meowed loudly and you nodded.
“You’re right. I can’t keep this a secret. This is how it started with my parents. They always said that their anger and resentment had built until they’d exploded. I don’t want that to happen with Peter.”
You loved Peter - you loved him more than you’d ever loved anyone and MJ was right. He deserved the truth, you both did.
Deciding that you can’t wait until tomorrow to speak to him, you burrow into the couch and turned the TV on. The intro for Law and Order: SVU filled your living room and you smiled.
Perfect.
///
“Hey, wake up sleepyhead,” Peter’s voice pierced your drowsy fog.
You opened your eyes and squinted at the brightness. You stretched out your sore neck and yawned.
“I fell asleep?” You asked, surprised. You looked up at him, still dressed in his Spiderman suit.
Peter laughed lightly. “Yeah, on the sofa. I tried to pick you up myself but you kept kicking me.”
“Sorry?” You smiled sheepishly.
He smiled and pressed a kiss to your head. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Wait - I need to talk to you about something,” you patted the spot next to you. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not, what’s wrong?”
You winced, loaded question.
“Uh - I - um, well, first how did it go tonight?” You asked, stumbling.
Peter lit up - his entire face came alive and you felt the heaviness in your stomach grow.
“It was amazing,” he beamed. “Finally being back out there, it’s...it’s what makes me happy. It’s what I was meant to do, you know? And I just, can I say something first?”
You nodded, throat tightening. Peter grabbed your hands and encased them in his own.
“I want to thank you for being there for me, for helping me get back to this, to doing what I love. I finally feel like I’m doing something worthwhile.”
Is that what you’d done? Helped him recover from nearly dying to go out into the world to almost die again?
Your chest ached and you nodded faintly. “Of course.”
“Sorry, I took over. What did you want to say?”
You opened your mouth but snapped it shut at the sight of his wide eyes.
I can’t, I can’t do it to him.
“Nothing,” you smiled faintly. “I’m tired, let’s go to bed.”
///
You’d tried to continue on like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t had your epiphany and were maturely ignoring most of your anxiety.
It worked for a few weeks, you’d managed to learn enough coping mechanisms to distract yourself when he patrolled. You were mildly successful in ignoring the fact that it was like putting a band-aid over a bullet hole.
Unfortunately, like most times, reality smacked you a few weeks later.
A few minutes into your shift on a rainy Friday, your unit was called to a bank robbery. First ones on the scene, you picked up the most critical injury and hauled him into the ambulance. He was young and his eyes had a glazed look to them. You quickly glanced down at his injury and hooked up his oxygen.
Your hands started shaking at the sight of the blood oozing out of his stomach.
“Please,” he gagged against his mask. “I’m s-sorry, I was just trying to help.”
You left Daria to attend to him and ran towards the driver’s seat.
A minute into the drive, you heard Daria swear and start chest compressions.
A few beats later, she called out time of death.
You managed to keep it together until you reached the hospital. You’d angrily pushed passed a nurse and slammed your hand against a wall. Before anyone could reach you, you stormed off towards a supply closet on the fourth floor and broke down.
That was where Daria found you, half an hour later. You were sitting in a corner, red faced and mid-panic attack.
“Oh, babe,” Daria rushed forward and pulled you into her arms.
“I’m s-sorry,” you cried, stumbling over your words. “I didn’t mean to push the nurse.”
“She knows that, I spoke to her. She knows what it’s like to lose someone,” Daria smoothed your hair back. “We can find her after so you can apologize.”
You nodded. “Please.”
“Was it the gunshot?” She asked carefully.
“Yes,” you hiccuped, tears still streaming down your face.
You’d taken one look at his injuries and flashed back to that alleyway, that stupid alleyway.
“We did the best we could,” Daria cupped your face. “You drove as fast you could and as safely as you could. You know this, sometimes there’s nothing we can do.”
You did know, you’d always known that. It was hard losing someone but, that’s why you did what you did. That was the first thing you were taught in school - you can’t save everyone.
Suddenly, in that dusty, dark supply room you realized the truth.
You couldn’t save everyone.
And that had been it, that was your breaking point. MJ was right, something had to give and it finally did. So you dried your face, took calming breaths and leaned on Daria for the rest of your shift. Then you went home, determined in your decision.
You managed to get up to the apartment and halfway packed before you’d started to doubt yourself.
“Sometimes, you gotta do what’s right for you. Whatever that is.”
You sighed and for the tenth time in the last hour, you sat down on the edge of your bed. You’d gotten to your pajama drawer and your favorite t shirt – Peter’s old Mathlete’s shirt – was clutched in your hand. You could honestly hit yourself. You were such a goddamn cliché.
But, cliche or not, you couldn’t do this again. You’d tried to snap back the same way you’d been doing for years but...it wasn’t sticking this time. You couldn’t break the cycle and you couldn’t stay in it. It was a lose-lose situation. Peter was Spiderman and there was no way around that.
Peter was your best friend and you did not want to let your most precious memories of him be tarnished with resentment or bitterness. You refused to become your parents.
So you straightened your shoulders and finally accepted it. The fact that you were leaving because of how much you loved him and you couldn’t stay to watch him crash and burn. You knew you could never ask Peter to choose between you or Spiderman.
Truthfully, you didn’t know what the answer would be and which one would hurt more.
You pulled out your phone.
“‘Ello?” MJ said.
“Hey,” you said quietly. “Can I crash on your couch tonight?”
///
You sat in the living room, rigidly, waiting for Peter to come home. He’d texted you earlier about a mission he needed to go on next week and he’d be home after the briefing.
The sound of the locks made you clam up.
“Hello?” He called out.
“Hey,” you answered softly.
“Hey! Oh my God, I almost had to fight an old lady for the last almond milk in the supermarket. I think everyone’s starting a new trend or something because no one drinks regular milk anymore-”
“Peter?” You called out, trying to interrupt his tirade.
He continued over you. “-I don’t know why you like that stuff anyway. What did you want to eat for dinner? I think I could whip up something. Oh! I saw Ned at lunch and he wanted to know what you wanted to do for your birthday this year-”
“Peter, can you - can you stay still for a second?”
He emerged from the kitchen, brows furrowed at your tone. “Yeah...what’s wrong?”
Your chest tightened and you swallowed around the lump in your throat. “I- this isn’t working. I need a break.”
Peter frowned and you felt like your heart was going to jump out your chest. He nodded and looked pensively. “I didn’t think you’d ever get to that point but, we could definitely get by on my paycheck alone until you decide on what you’d like to do-”
Your stomach sank and you cleared your throat. He stopped and narrowed his eyes.
“A break from work?”
You shook your head, your eyes welling up. “No, Pete, a break from us.”
At that, he froze. His eyes darted across your face, as searching for something.
“Wait, I’m confused. Is this a joke?”
“No, it’s not.” You bit down on your bottom lip and shook your head. “These past few months have been a little too overwhelming for me. I can’t...I don’t think I can continue in our cycle.”
“Cycle? What cycle?” Peter’s voice rose.
“This cycle of you getting hurt Peter,” your tears finally fell. “I can’t go one day - one fucking day- without dreaming of your dead body.”
Peter’s face blanked. “I know you’ve been having nightmares-”
“Nightmares?” You laughed humorlessly. “We’re passed nightmares Peter. Do you understand how traumatizing that was? To see you like that? To accept the fact that I didn’t do anything to help you - that I would’ve taken part in the reason as to why you died?”
“I told you, I don’t blame you for that-”
“But I do!” You shouted, screwing your eyes shut in attempt to stop the flow of tears. “I didn’t do anything - that week you were in a coma? I was in a haze Peter. Steve, Wanda and Natasha led me around like I was an empty shell. I kept thinking, what am I going to do without him? He’s my whole life and he’s lying on a bed half-dead in front of me. How am I going to wake up tomorrow knowing that I’m going to live in a world where Peter Parker is dead?”
Peter closed his eyes. “But I’m fine.”
“I know you are,” you reached out and grabbed his hand. “Peter, I know this is sudden but you have to have known. You know me better than I know myself. You have to have known that something was wrong.”
He raised his eyes towards yours and you knew the answer.
“I knew something was...off, but, I didn’t think it was leading towards this. I thought we’d just talk about it eventually.”
“Eventually?” You huffed.
Peter crossed his arms defensively. “You didn’t exactly bring it up either! We were both ignoring it!”
You rubbed your eyes, frustrated with the turn of the conversation. Chewie meowed from his carrier by the door and Peter glanced at your duffel bag. He made a hurt noise and your stomach dropped again.
“You’re leaving?” He asked, hurt radiating from him. “You’re actually leaving?”
“I have no other choice,” you said, trying to remember your practiced words. “I can’t stay here, I need a moment to breath. I need to recalibrate.”
After a beat of silence, Peter stood up angrily.
“Is it – do you not love me anymore? Is it not enough?” Peter ran a frustrated hand through his mop of curls. “Is it because I’ve been patrolling again? I promise, I’ll come home sooner. I’ll tell Tony that I need to cut back on some shifts for now.”
For now.
You closed your eyes. “Peter, I love you but, I’m not as strong as Pepper. I can’t put myself through this again, and again. Seeing you like that, it almost broke me – it did break me.”
You felt like punching something, anger bubbling and sadness overwhelming you. You sat back down, tears bubbling out of you. Not cute, graceful tears but angry and ugly sobs.
“You said being Spiderman makes you feel whole. I could never ask you to give that up for me,” your stomach churned and you wiped at your face messily. “They’ll be more girls but there’s only one Spiderman.”
“Don’t say that!”
“It’s true,” you forced a smile on your face. “I couldn’t live with myself if I thought you felt trapped by me. What type of relationship is that?”
Peter squeezed your hand, his eyes red and face wet. “But I love you.”
You laughed, surprised. “God, Peter, I love you too.”
“Then why do you need to leave?” He asked, frustrated.
“It’s been almost eight years Peter,” you whispered. “I don’t know what it’s like to live an adult life without you – I need…we need to figure it out, because I can’t stay here with you and watch you die.”
Peter opened his mouth and you shook your head.
“The other guy will always have someone who needs him. It didn’t matter before when you left in the middle of a movie, when you missed anniversaries, when I studied alone or when I didn’t see you for days at a time because you were on a mission.
But…we’re older now Peter. I’m not sixteen with the biggest problem being getting my calculus homework done. I can’t be at home waiting for my whole life. I can’t have a baby on my hip or get to fifty and have the possibility of you being killed hanging over me. I can’t wait for you to die in an alleyway alone. I won’t survive it. ”
“But-”
“Please,” you inhaled deeply and squeezed his hands. “Don’t lie to me and don’t make any promises you can’t keep. We owe each other that. I owe you more than that and that’s why I’m leaving, why I’m taking a step back.
“I hope you can forgive me, one day. I- I love you Peter, please don’t ever doubt that. I just need a little space right now.”
With that, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and walked out the door.
@nataliebartell @dangerousluv1
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[Fic] New Arrivals
For @lurkingowlkitten, @horde-at-war, @soulshifter-demonsbane
Contains our characters: Sila, Othorion, Meng and Kael Rating: PG-13 just to be safe
Sila grabbed a plate. Despite the war there wasn’t a shortage of ingredients. Thanks to the Zuldazar port that means fresh food, not the rations the warriors were usually supplied with. Sila quickly grabbed some dumplings, noodles and a rice pudding for dessert.
“Sila!” Othorion waved her over to where he was sitting alongside Meng.
She walked over with a smile. “Thank you.” Once she sat comfortable she threw a glance at what the other two were eating. “The food is good, isn’t it?”
“I believe we have Master Firepaw to thank for that. He organized a crew of cooks among the Huojin. Though I would enjoy a glass of Thalassian wine in addition to the food, I must say.” Meng took a bite of his grilled tiger steak.
Othorion had to agree with that. “Something from home would be nice.”
Sila threw a glance at the harbor. A ship with familiar colours arrived just now, red and yellow phoenix banner flying high in the wind. “Looks like something from home just arrived.” That caught her companions’ attention. They both turned their heads. From their vantage point they couldn’t see what if the ship was delivering supplies, or more Sin’dorei forces.
Their questions were answered when 15 minutes later a small regiment of blood knights arrived at the barracks.They were shown around by one of the Deathguards, who guarded the Horde ships docked in the harbor.
Meng narrowed his eyes. “I wasn’t aware we were getting reinforcements. We haven’t lost that many, despite the increase in blood troll activity and the Alliance incursions.” It was difficult to discern who had been dispatched. Lady Liadrin herself was stationed in the Arathi Highlands.
“As if they would tell us.” Sila stuffed her mouth with a dumpling, chewed on it and swallowed. “I think we need a few more promotions before that happens.”
Othorion finished his meal, while keeping his eyes on the new arrivals. His experience as a blacksmith told him their armor and weapons were brand new. “The Knight-Lord will probably divide them, mix the new arrivals up with the troops already stationed here. Our unit will have more knights by the end of the day.”
A series of coughs drew his attention away from the new knights to Meng, who was almost choking on his drink. He knew what that meant and rolled his eyes. By the Sunwell, the new forces would need to be given a crash course on what was currently happening. Thankfully he was not the Knight-Lord who needed to brief them.
Othorion chuckled as he noticed the expression on Meng’s face. “Someone should warn them about Tal’aman. On second thought, maybe we shouldn’t. It might be amusing.”
Sila’s eyes widened. For a moment she forgot about the fact that not all trolls in the royal city agreed with the Horde’s presence. Tal’aman was the Amani district and the feud between the Amani and Sin’dorei was centuries old. Already she noticed some of the new arrivals wandering off. Why weren’t they getting briefed first? Where was the Knight-Lord? This could only result in trouble. Without thinking about it further Sila stuffed another dumpling into her mouth and rose from her seat. “We need to follow the newbies.”
Neither Meng nor Othorion made any attempt to move. Sila’s eyes narrowed and she tapped her hips with her fingers. Meng didn’t need to look at her to know she was doing her best to look as stern and demanding as her older sister. He met Nevaran Dawnbringer once. The Ranger-Lord had a grump face that rivaled his own. Sila, however, wasn’t quite there yet. Thus, he remained exactly where he was. “I have not finished my meal. Besides, if they do get themselves in trouble they’ll immediately know what not to do next time.”
“If a hothead is among them the situation could quickly escalate.” Sila did not give up. She would go alone if she had to, but she had to try to convince her friends this was the correct course of action. “Besides, we’re here to show the Zandalari the Horde is an asset and that we are good allies to have. It won’t do if we go around causing fights.”
Meng still didn’t look like he was getting up any soon. In fact, it seemed like it took him longer than usual to finish his meal. Othorion was also still finishing up. Sila took a deep breath and turned around. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.”
The two men watched her walk away. Meng just shrugged his shoulders. As long as those runts weren’t part of his unit he didn’t see why he should interrupt his meal for them. Even then only extraordinary circumstances would get him to leave his meal unfinished. He shared a glance with Othorion. The latter chuckled and rose from his seat. “I suppose I’ll go check if she’s all right. Who knows, it might be fun.” He patted Meng on the shoulder before he walked away into the direction of the stairs leading to the upper districts.
When he reached Tal’aman he could see something had already happened. The Amani guards and their warbears were involved, as well as the newly arrived blood knights. Several of them were knocked out onto the ground and another, a red haired young man, was currently involved in a brawl with three Amani trolls.
“What are you waiting for, you Amani filth? Come at me! It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
The red haired blood knight just stood there with his fists raised. He stood right in front of the Amani trolls, taunting them, yelling at them. Othorion chuckled and crossed his arms in front of his chest. It was just like he suspected. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last time either if this war continued on and on, as it usually did between the Horde and the Alliance, as it also did between the Sin’dorei and the Amani.
“You thinking you all that, elf? You think you so strong, elf?” The Amani guard laughed out loud. He raised his arms, while keeping his eye on the red haired elf in front of him. “Dese are troll lands. You on our playground now. Dis is our land. De Horde is nothing here.” To reinforce his words the troll grabbed the blood elf by his throat and lifted him up.
“We’ll see who is nothing.” The red haired blood elf grunted. It wasn’t easy to speak with someone attempting to crush your windpipe. He managed to kick the troll in his genitals and dropped onto the floor when the troll released him.
Othorion watched how the other trolls retaliated as their grunting and hurting leader ordered them to. The young blood elf seemed to be doing ok for a couple of moments. He had some skills, but he was ultimately outnumbered and took a couple of hits badly.
“Who’s winning?” Meng decided to join Othorion after all, but not without a bringing the remainder of his drink. While it wasn’t Thalassian wine, it would serve for the time being. At least this was entertaining.
Othorion shrugged. “Hard to tell. I’m betting on Sila though. Even if I don’t know where she is right now.” He had only just finished his sentence when he suddenly spotted her. Considering she was not very tall it was difficult to spot her in a crowd. Still, he did notice how the stunned blood knights were being pulled out of harm’s way and the Light surrounded them as they received healing. She could intervene any second now. Othorion already braced himself.
“Enough!!”
At that moment Sila positioned herself between the Amani trolls and the new blood knights. All of the blood elves took a few steps back, save one. The red head remained where he was, coughing and trying to catch his breath. The Amani, on the other hand, didn’t want to pull back just yet.
The Amani chief guard stepped forward, towering above Sila. “Why should we be listening to you, small elf girl? You be trespassing on Amani ground.”
If the troll meant to intimidate her Sila wasn’t impressed. She stood her ground. “If my eyes do not deceive me we are outside of Tal’aman, Amani. That means we are not trespassing.”
“De only reason you not dead yet, mon, is because you be a guest of King Rastakhan. Keep de young ones in line, or you be finding even that is not enough.” The troll turned around, keeping an eye on both Sila and the red haired hothead behind her.
Watching the trolls back away the red haired young blood elf couldn’t resist to shout after them. “Yes, you walk away! Next time you won’t get away so easily!!”
Meng had to use all of his self control to keep his poker face. Deep inside he wanted to laugh, because he didn’t need to see the look on Sila’s face in response to the young one’s taunts. She would not appreciate it at all, after trying to restore the peace.
Othorion blinked a few times. His mouth opened slightly, but the “oh-oh” didn’t exactly leave his throat. Usually Sila had to prompt him into stepping in, unless things really got out of hand. This time he felt he had to do it on his own accord.
Just as Sila turned around Othorion stepped into view and placed a hand upon the youngster’s shoulder. For a moment his gaze met Sila’s and he could see the gratefulness there, because she looked like she was about to give a lecture on proper conduct. It looked like he didn’t need to do anything yet, so he waited for Sila’s sign.
Sila made sure she looked straight at the young red haired blood knight. “What is your name?”
He was stunned into silence now that she was facing him. A slight blush appeared on his cheek. “Kael’thas.” It was a bit embarrassing to say his name, knowing who he was named after. Now that all the commotion was over he couldn’t say he regretted what he did. Those trolls deserved it. However, having a senior blood knight stand in front of him, and disapprove of his actions, left him feeling out of sorts.
Sila placed her hands upon her hips and tilted her head slightly. “I strongly advise you to stay away from Tal’aman next time, if you are not able to keep your hatred for the Amani under wraps. We are guests here, and in the process of building an alliance with the Zandalari Empire. I strongly suggest you don’t do anything to endanger that process.”
Kael’thas lowered his eyes. He didn’t feel like he was wrong. “They started it. I’m not gonna let them attack our people just because we walked too close to them.”
Othorion smirked when he saw Sila getting ready to have a go at him. To take some pressure off of the situation he tapped Kael’thas on the shoulder. “Let’s get you to the barracks and get you and your unit briefed.”
Kael’thas eyed the other man warily. He wasn’t sure what to think. Would he get a reprimand from their commanding officer, from the Knight-Lord? That was not how he wanted to start his first deployment. He took a deep breath. It was probably better to follow his fellow blood knight.
As Othorion and Kael’thas walked away, Othorion threw a glance across his shoulder to Sila, who mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to him. He smiled in acknowledgement. The other new arrivals followed silently, with some of them helping their friends who’d been stunned by the trolls. Sila followed shortly after them, not wanting anyone to be left behind and cause more trouble. As she passed Meng he joined as well, muttering something about ‘runts’ along the way.
#wow#world of warcraft#blood elves#sindorei#blood knights#silevran dawnbringer#Othorion#Meng#Kael'thas#lhu writing
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Project Echo, Part 3: Chapter 20 (Not Dead Yet)
Part 3 Summary: Seven years after the events of “Part 2”, Avengers Tower explodes, fulfilling Bucky’s vision. All evidence points to Avengers Shadow-Ops leader Inessa Ryker, who is forced to seek out Bucky in hiding. Together they must determine who the traitor is in their ranks and if their friends are still alive- all while trying to survive deadly ambushes orchestrated by Sam Wilson and his hand-picked army.
Before this chapter begins: With Amadeus and Inessa sharing a body for this chapter, I wanted to give him a voice in things too, but in a way that wasn't too confusing.
Therefore, except when italics are used to emphasize a word in a sentence, anything like: Amadeus: or Inessa: means that they are thoughts, not something spoken. You could have probably figured that out on your own, but I just wanted to give you a heads up to avoid confusion :)
Chapter 20: Not Dead (Yet)
Bucky's face broke into a massive grin and he pulled Amadeus into a tight hug, "Inessa, I- you're-"he couldn't find the words for the incredible relief that washed over him.
Amadeus: Get him off me. Get. Him. Off. Of. Me. And if you two kiss I swear to god-
"We're freaking the host out," Inessa pushed Bucky away lightly. She suppressed her smile- she had to admit it was a nice hug.
Amadeus: NO. That is NOT allowed in MY BODY!
Inessa: Stop reading my mind!
Amadeus: I can't NOT, you're broadcasting loud and clear!
Inessa: I've never done this before, give me a break!
"How are you doing this?" Bucky had no idea Inessa and Amadeus were bickering, "I thought you were gone."
"It's kind of hard to explain�� Amadeus, shut up for a few minutes, OK?" She caught the confusion on her companion's face and pointed to her (Amadeus') head, "He's being noisy," it was hardly an explanation, but Bucky was willing to take it.
Inessa: I just realized I have no idea how to explain this.
Amadeus: Well, show me what you know and I'll try to talk you through it.
"Um, alright," she decided to parrot her lieutenant, "The wolves in the Valley- they weren't wolves, they were something I made without realizing it. My eyes were brown when I was little, but between Dimitri's drunken beatings and the general stress of growing up broke in a place like Englewood, I wasn't shutting my power down as quickly as I got older. When Hydra took me I was always trying to use my abilities, testing their frequency and with everything… I never stopped. I never let go of the shadows. Frequency or no, my powers were still active, so my eyes didn't change back."
"Amadeus thinks the Hydra attacks and the accidents when I was little are linked to my emotions. The wolves became more feral the angrier and more afraid I became. After Hydra they were psychotic because with everything I'd just about lost my mind too. I was broken, beyond terrified, and desperate for the world to make some sort of sense for five minutes in a row. They fed off that confusion and were out of control."
Amadeus: You lost your mind to Hydra…
Inessa: Yeah, and a lot of people suffered for it.
Amadeus: You lost your mind… To that hundred-plus year old man over there you were just thinking is such a nice hugger.
Inessa: Amadeus Cho don't you start in on that-
Amadeus: You're literally in my head, I can see your every thought and as an inside AND outside observer let me make it clear: I DON'T APPROVE OF ANY MORE HUGGING!
She felt like taunting him out of spite, What about-
Amadeus: NONE OF THAT EITHER, YOUNG LADY!
"So what was the armor then? That stuff- I thought it was killing you." Bucky could tell there was some internal dialogue going on between Inessa and Amadeus, but he couldn't hear what they were saying and there was information he definitely needed.
Amadeus: Repeat after me, ghoul-
"The wolves- it took power to form and maintain them," she wasn't sure it would work, but Inessa held up Amadeus' arm, "one percent of my power for every wolf- not really but let's pretend- one hundred wolves means one hundred percent of my power. Then instead of the shadows forming from this," she let black mist run down Amadeus' arm, "it starts sucking its power from me. If left unchecked it will kill me." She closed her fist and pure black armor erupted from the flesh, wholly encasing it, "This is what one hundred percent in one spot looks like, but it's self-contained. I create it, then it keeps itself going, unlike the wolves. The wolves keep drawing from me, this- it's like a battery backup.
"We didn't know what it was the first time. Using my power the way I did pulled way more than I'd ever tried to use before. My system was strained, my powers started drawing from my body, and somehow I created the armor. It was protecting me, I think, covering me so that I could extend my abilities just a little bit longer during the day. Travis didn't understand- none of us did. The armor protected me from my own powers. He- Travis- pushed me into the sun, shorted it out before it could form all the way. My power turned on me, just about killed me because I couldn't shut it off.
"The Avengers thought it was the Shadow dislodging from the host, so when Travis found me at the Collector's Vault he tried to jump-start me again, knock me clean out of this world. The armor was the overflow power. I couldn't shut it down, couldn't see or hear anything. Berny's gun forced everything to stop- the wolves, the armor- he reset my abilities and threw a lot of power back into me… Did that make any sense?"
Amadeus: Only if he has brain damage.
Bucky nodded, "I think so."
Amadeus: Oh, that's comforting.
Inessa got the gist of what Amadeus was trying to explain- armor good, armor help. No armor bad.
Amadeus: Have I told you lately you're a true intellectual juggernaut?
Inessa: Suck it.
"What's our next move? I was going to go for the intel before Sam tossed me in here. I think as long as Berny believes you're dead he can be persuaded to help us."
"First we need to know- Amadeus, who did Sam bring?"
Amadeus: Castor, Ellie, Eoin, Geoff, Kelsey, Marie, Maya, Raj, Travis, and myself. There are a handful of Asgardians, I'd believe if they had numbers instead of names. They're drones, but their leader's a snake- Calder.
"Alright, we've got Castor Kane, he's from Stark's team so he's a tech expert. He doesn't have superpowers but he's an excellent fighter. Next is Ellie Burke, a psychic from Natasha's team. She isn't as powerful as Madelyn Pryor was, but she can do basic mind reading, memory wipes, and she can influence emotion on the unsuspecting. Eoin O'Meara isn't an Avenger, he's a thug. Do you remember Mallory Ivanou?"
Bucky nodded, "Your best friend."
"Eoin is one of the ex-Hydra prisoners I handed over when she found me in Alaska. They started dating. When I formed the first Shadow Unit to help keep Steve out of trouble she was the first teammate I chose. Eoin came with her. He revealed our attack plans to Thanos in the Infinity War and got her along with eight other Avengers killed. If the death toll hadn't already been into seven digits we would have killed him too."
"Powers?"
"Healing. Also- be warned- he was about to be named leader of a second Black Ops unit when he betrayed us. He's smart and dangerous, a real sociopath."
"Who else is in Sam's arsenal?"
"Geoff Smith. He's from Steve's team, a teleporter. Then there's Kelsey Leigh- think Thor but with a sword instead of a hammer, she's also from Steve's team."
"Is there any significance to that? Two from his team?" Bucky was asking all the right questions, Inessa could tell Amadeus was impressed.
"Thanks to someone's prophecy Steve started turning on me first. It caused a lot of issues with the other Avengers, so like with any conflict things started to polarize. You had to be all in or all against, no middle ground. The other Avengers saw it as a personal attack on one of their own, Steve's team had to get pretty aggressive to defend his position for him. Kelsey and Geoff probably hate me almost half as Eoin- and they're both pretty much at the point where they'd like to see my face peeled off and sewn on inside out. That says more about Eoin's capacity for hate than it does about theirs."
Bucky grimaced, "They'll be spirited. Got it. Marie messes with temperature, Maya?"
"Maya Lopez is from Thor's group, so she might not hate me quite as vividly as the others. Maya is stone deaf- unlike Clint the hearing aids couldn't help her. She's a fighter like Castor but with superhuman speed and reflexes- you and Natasha minus the strength, basically. She'll move about twice as fast as me, half a step faster than you. Rajesh Patel, also from Thor's team, is a master of invisibility. Sam brought him for his power, no doubt. He's good in a fight, but just trust your instincts over your eyes with him- he tends to fake right and dive left. Thor turned on me second-to-last, so his team is still new to the hate. They'll be hard to pin down. Last man on the list is Travis Ivanovich of Banner's team. He's a doctor, he can take away your pain or give you more- don't let him touch you. Eoin can't be trusted, Sam knows this, and I'm betting he brought Travis along as a back-up medic for when Eoin turns on them."
"Two from Steve and Thor's teams, Natasha, Stark, Banner, and two from your team, counting Amadeus. Why didn't Sam bring any of his own people? His lieutenant?"
Inessa shook her head, "That's what makes this all so difficult. Sam was the last one to turn on me. He believed in me when no one else would- and I took that for granted. I pushed him away, hard, and made him look back over all that evidence with an angry eye. Then- then something happened that sealed the deal. Hell, if I didn't know any better I'd have turned on me too. His team didn't even get the chance to learn to hate me. He's probably left them on Earth to keep an eye on Wanda and Vision. I spent the last month working on them while I was looking for you and convincing them I wasn't a threat. Sam isn't listening to his own people anymore because they were counseling patience when he just wanted blood. I'm more scared of him than I am of all of them combined."
Amadeus: You're not going to tell him what happened to-
Inessa: No. Not unless he asks. I want him to trust me. If he finds out about Noelle then he'll turn on me, guaranteed.
Amadeus: You don't know that.
Inessa: I do, because you turned on me, and you had a million more reasons to trust me than he does right now.
Amadeus: Nessie, I'm sorry. I'll never stop being sorry.
Inessa: It's alright Amadeus. The big bad was smart this time. If they weren't then I'd have figured it out sooner.
Amadeus: Figured what out? Who's doing this?
Inessa couldn't help it. Under normal circumstances she'd just close her mouth and refuse to speak, but she and Amadeus were in one another's heads. At his question the entire puzzle appeared, laid out perfectly, even with the multitude of assumptions she'd made based off of what evidence was available from the blood magic straight to the face of their enemy.
Inessa: Don't freak out.
Amadeus: So it was-
Inessa: Yes.
Amadeus: And Thanos' Warlord is-
Inessa: Yeah…
Amadeus: It's-
Inessa: I'm fairly positive, yeah. It's the only thing that makes sense.
He was surprisingly silent for a few moments. Bucky could see from the glint in Amadeus' eyes that Inessa was busy communicating with the body's owner, so he saved his question until her focus was shifted back outwards. Suddenly though she jumped and covered her ears, "Amadeus stop screaming!" she hissed.
Amadeus: WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!
Inessa: No, we're all only probably going to die!
Amadeus: NO, WE'RE COMPLETELY FUCKED! WE'RE DEAD, GONE, KAPUT!
Inessa: Now do you see why I don't blame you for turning on me?
Amadeus: BECAUSE YOU DON'T WANT TO DIE WITH REGRETS?! Go ahead- hug Bucky again, kiss him, screw him, do whatever makes you happy because THE MOTHERFUCKING REAPER HAS ALL OUR NAMES ON HIS LIST!
Inessa: Now you're just being dramatic.
Amadeus: YES, THAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FIND OUT YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!
Inessa: Can I talk to Bucky while you melt down? We've got to find this S.O.B, get out of here alive, get away from Sam, deal with a certain little traitor friend of ours, figure out a plan to survive the Warlord, and get our friend's back.
Amadeus: They're lucky. They're already dead.
Inessa: Amadeus…
Amadeus: Go chat. I'll just be sitting here, reminiscing fondly on simpler foes… LIKE THANOS!
"You've got your question face on," Inessa ignored the headache Amadeus was giving her and turned back to Bucky, who was blissfully ignorant of how devastatingly outmatched they were, "go for it."
"How many members are on each team?"
Amadeus: Oh snap.
Her heart sank. She knew where this would end, "Four. With Marie's addition we had even numbers across all teams."
He shook his head, "So why didn't Sam bring any lieutenants? Second in command- they'd be most out for blood and the rest could stay behind to keep the world safe."
Amadeus: Your luck is never this good. He's going to ask about Noelle next.
"Travis is a lieutenant. He's one of the angrier ones. The others swore an oath- if anything happens to the leaders they have to focus on getting Earth's defenses back up. They count themselves as the leaders now, and Travis will lose that position since he came with Sam and broke the oath. You already know Amadeus is my lieutenant. I'm betting Sam brought him to try and win over the others on Earth who aren't so sure I'm guilty. If my lieutenant seconds my execution then any Avengers with a shadow of a doubt of my guilt will be more likely to support Sam- even after he's killed another leader."
Amadeus: Never. I've got your back now boss, I promise. Until I die a painful, agonizing, terrifying, horrific death.
Inessa: You just said 'ouch' and 'scary' two different ways, but I still appreciate the sentiment.
Amadeus: Appreciate away, because the next question he asks-
"I get that this has all ballooned into something bigger than you anticipated," Bucky nodded to Inessa, "I think I understand why you were so angry when you found me."
Amadeus: Wow. Really? You're actually having a good day for once? He's not asking why Sam only brought Marie and I?
Inessa flat-out ignored him, "I was running out of time. If I didn't get to you before Heimdall's summons… Alone this is suicide. Alone there is absolutely no hope of us finding the others. I'm not even sure Steve, Nat, Clint, Tony, Banner, and Thor won't still blame me, if they're alive."
Amadeus: Knowing our enemy? Yeah, I'll bet most of them are still alive. Not Thor or Tony- they're not unusual like the others, but Steve and Nat for sure are good for some human experiments. Banner too, probably. Clint's at least a vaguely interesting oddity, ability-wise. He probably lasted a couple weeks- or had his eyes ripped out the first day.
Inessa: Amadeus, we need hope right now, not reality.
Amadeus: Sorry Nessie, it's hard to control what you hear me think.
Inessa: Ellie will be done with her inspection of my body soon, then I can go back and you can be as pessimistic as you want.
Amadeus: I appreciate that.
Bucky had already decided to trust Inessa, but she was still cagey around sharing intel. Still, she was warming up, and that was better than blind hope for the future. At least now he had a grasp of Sam's forces, "Amadeus or Inessa- what can you tell me about Calder?"
Amadeus raised his arm, "Inessa with Amadeus adding in. Calder is one of Odin's guards. I'm fairly confident he knows Odin is-"she forgot she couldn't say. The damned curse followed her into a new body! At least Bucky already knew that-
Amadeus: LOKI IS ODIN AND THE FUCKING SHADOW KING?!
Inessa: At last, a silver lining.
"Anyways," she could tell Bucky knew where her thoughts had been going, "He controls the Asgardians, but Amadeus says he's shifty, like he's trying to be sneaky."
"Yeah," Bucky nodded, "I've got a bad feeling about that one. I'll handle him if it comes to that."
"Alright," Inessa was content to let him handle whatever issue he foresaw, "there's something else we've got to take care of. I know the emergency procedures and Sam's routine- I know he's got Ellie scanning my body right now looking for me. When she doesn't find me, she'll look elsewhere just to be sure. Once she's done with my body, I can go back into it. Sam, however, is going to check JARVIS' protocols."
Amadeus: Wait, you're not saying-
"What protocols?"
"The embedded comms. Tony installed a shit-ton of personal scanners after the Infinity War so the comms can be hacked to monitor vital signs and do scans of brainwaves. Basically? Sam's got a remote suit on this ship somewhere to act as a relay for the comms. That suit is scanning data from my comm. If anyone knows I'm not gone, it'll be JARVIS and my brain activity scans."
"So we need to destroy the suit?" Bucky was planning how to get out of the cell.
"No, and that's too obvious. JARVIS' scans are locked- only Steve and Tony together can unlock the medical data, it was a condition of the end of their war. Neither can access that unless the other is present. What Sam can do, however, is ask JARVIS for Amadeus' status."
"I don't follow."
"JARVIS can't tell Sam if I'm still in the body or not, it violates that part of his programming. He can however indicate if I'm gone or not by how he refers to Amadeus."
Amadeus: You wouldn't dare…
Inessa tapped Amadeus' comm, "JARVIS, tone and cadence match. Identify and patch to system mainframe."
"Inessa Ryker. Shadow Unit Leader. Speaking through Amadeus Cho." The automated reply guaranteed Sam wouldn't be able to track this call through comms. It wasn't like a normal chat with JARVIS, it was directly accessing a part of his coding.
"Good. Now listen up- I, Inessa Nadya Antonia Emilia Ryker-"
Amadeus: DON'T YOU DARE!
"-hereby vote in favor-"
Amadeus: I WILL SIDE WITH SAM AGAINST YOU, FOR REAL!
"-of making Amadeus Cho-"
Amadeus: I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS!
"-leader of Avengers Black Ops Unit number two."
Amadeus: EVERYTHING YOU LOVE! I WILL PEE ON EVERYTHING YOU LOVE!
"In the fourth and final vote before the explosion I abstained. Now my vote is cast. JARVIS, report the results."
"Unanimous vote achieved. The Shadow Unit has been divided. Amadeus Cho is now Leader of Avengers Black Ops."
Amadeus: YOU EVIL WENCH! EVIL! DEVIL-WOMAN! I HOPE YOU- ooh…
Inessa: What?
Amadeus: I just remembered what Leaders get paid. Kaching!
Inessa: No more peeing?
Amadeus: Not at the moment, no.
Bucky raised his eyebrows, "What did you just do?"
Inessa grinned, "Sam's going to try and get JARVIS to verify my 'death' by asking who Amadeus Cho is. JARVIS is going to tell him my old lieutenant is now leader of Avengers Black Ops. Sam won't think to ask the right questions to get JARVIS to show him that vote again and see that mine changed in favor. It's a smokescreen, but a damned clever one. Bucky, until this is over and you're back on Earth, can you be my new lieutenant?"
"Just don't tell JARVIS. Whatever he has me listed as cannot change, or else Sam will know something's up."
"Deal."
Amadeus: Wait, doesn't that mean I can order the others around? Even Marie?
Inessa: You were a lieutenant, dumbass. You could always order them around.
Amadeus: Oh yeah…
Inessa: Travis lost his status, remember? You can boss him around too for fun.
Amadeus: Oh, it's a beautiful new world...
"So what's your next move? Grab another body and get the intel we came for?"
Inessa shook Amadeus' head in the negative, "Too risky. I found Amadeus by his mark, but those are all fading now- fast. I can't see anyone else as strongly except for Geoff and he hates me. We'd get our intel, but he could cause a lot of problems with my control in that body. Any struggle for dominance would tip Sam off too quickly- he could take off with you two and I'd be screwed."
"Does Amadeus trust you now?"
Amadeus: Utterly and apologetically.
"Yeah," she half-smiled, "but I had to show him everything. It would at least temper Geoff's hostility to do the same, but Bucky-"she shook her head.
"More sensitive intel?" Inessa nodded, "I get it, don't worry. I'm getting used to this."
"The fewer who know what I know the better our chances of finding Steve and the others. Geoff would be too obvious. I can only trust Amadeus with this. He's a good enough liar and I didn't exactly have a choice in sharing. You? I need your actions and reactions to be as genuine as possible. It's the only way this goes forward."
Amadeus: I disagree, but fine. Have it your way.
Bucky considered their options carefully, "You should go back to your body, protect it in case Sam decides to hurt it just to make sure you're gone for good. Can you keep your eyes brown?"
Amadeus' eyes abruptly lost their unearthly hue, "I think I can, yeah."
"Nadya escaped from Berny's weapon, but you probably know that already," he advised, "keep her back. If Sam gets a whiff of her here he'll know you aren't gone."
"Okay."
"Amadeus- of the two of us you have the best chance of being allowed out of here to find the intel, considering they think Inessa is out of play. Now, I think I can get them to let you go, but it's going to be very painful. Inessa, considering our history-"
"My history with the Winter Soldier," she corrected.
"-you should go before we begin."
"Oh no," she was adamant, "if that's how you want to handle this I'm staying right here-"
Amadeus: Nessie, it's alright. I knew it was going to happen as soon as he was dropped in this cell. The only way they'll pull me out is if there's a fight. He hits me around a bit, they feel sorry and let me go. It isn't like I could help you now anyways, what with you being dead and all.
Inessa: I'm not saying it's not a good idea, but I've got a much higher tolerance for pain than you. I can protect you so you don't even feel it. I've had a lifetime of practice.
Amadeus: Repeat after me, O Stubborn One:
"He wants a test hit with me in the body to prove something," Inessa rolled her eyes.
"Are you sure, I'm really not comfortable with-"
"I know… I know. Just- let's just do this so he'll stop bitching and we can get going. Sam won't stick around here forever."
Bucky reminded himself this was the best plan to get the boy out of the cell. Sam wasn't fighting with Amadeus, only Bucky, who'd taken Inessa's side time and time again against him. Amadeus wasn't a threat, Sam just needed a push to force him to see it. Bucky pulled his fist back slowly, willing a better plan to come to mind, "Ready?"
Amadeus: Ready.
"We're ready," Inessa braced for the blow. When Bucky's fist connected with her jaw the explosion of pain as she was launched back into the wall sparked a memory. She clamped down on it before it reared up too far, but even half a second was long enough for Amadeus to get a vivid picture of their past.
"Are you OK?" Bucky helped pull Amadeus and Inessa back up and lightly touched where his fist connected, feeling for broken bones. Remorse was written all over his face.
Amadeus: He's going to have to work on his mean-face.
"I'm fine," Inessa ignored Amadeus. She rubbed her jaw just around where Bucky was hovering and practiced opening and closing it a few times. Nothing broken, but it would hurt like a bitch for a few days, "Amadeus was just proving why you kicking me out was a good idea."
Amadeus: The psychological ramifications on you are just one part of it, Inessa. Even if you protect me from the blows you can't shield me from what they'll make you see. I saw some of the footage of what Dennisson did to you in Astana after Steve made me your lieutenant. I can't- I'd rather take one hit at a time than take one and re-live four others that much worse. I know it's selfish, but-
Inessa: It's not selfish, Amadeus. I didn't think about what could happen, I won't let you see any of that. No one should.
"I'm sorry Nessa," Bucky didn't know what else to say.
"It's still not your fault," she patted Bucky's hand to comfort him, "Just promise me you'll go easy on Amadeus? Nothing too bad?"
"I'll knock him out after the first couple of screams get their attention," he hated how horrible that sounded.
Amadeus always faced fear with humor, and this time it was no exception, it's alright Nessie, it won't take long. I'm a screamer. Just ask-
Inessa: I already know you and Kelsey had a fling, I don't need visuals or audio… OH MY GOD, STOP THINKING ABOUT IT! I CAN SEE THAT TOO YOU KNOW!
Amadeus: That was payback for earlier. Now- SCRAM!
"Fine, I'm going, I'm going. Ellie should be done by now anyways."
"See you on the other side?" Bucky tried to smile.
"I'll see you there. Good luck, and try to look scarier," Inessa squeezed Bucky's hand, then let herself slip away back into her body.
Amadeus sighed as he returned to full control of his body. It was starting to feel cramped in there. Bucky waited while he stretched and got his bearings again, "Ready, kid?"
"Hold on," something burned in Amadeus' eyes, a cunning Bucky didn't realize the boy possessed, "Inessa thinks you're safer left in the dark, I disagree. It's too dangerous to tell you anything outright, but I've got three things for you. A tip, a worry, and a riddle. Figure out the answer to the last one and you'll know half the story. Maybe more."
"This won't risk the mission?" Bucky wanted answers more than anything- but not if getting them meant killing any Avenger leader still alive.
"The first two are common knowledge amongst us, only you're out of the loop. The riddle- you've thought of it before, you must have! If half the stories about you are true you'd have noticed. You just didn't know how important it was. The plot-hole in Inessa's story."
"Go ahead," Bucky still thought this was a bad idea, but he couldn't resist.
"Your tip- there are three factions among the Avengers. The first and smallest believes that Inessa is innocent. She won over Wanda and Vision late in the game, but as far as I know it's just you, me, those two, and the Guardians right now in that camp. The second and largest unit believes Inessa is being controlled by the Shadow King- Loki. That's myself- formerly- and most of the teams on Earth and with Sam. They won't trust anything that comes out of her mouth, but they might be convinced, eventually. The last faction is the most dangerous- those who believe Inessa did all of this intentionally. Sam, Marie, Geoff, and Eoin are the most charismatic- they inspire the rest to hate. They think Inessa planned Steve, Natasha, Clint, Tony, Thor, and Banner's deaths right from the second she got out of that cryo tube in South Korea. No mind control, no room for uncertainty. To them she's pure evil. Adjust your tone accordingly."
"Understood," Bucky had guessed that much already, but it was nice to have confirmation.
"Next, the worry: Inessa found evidence that suggests whoever the puppet master is," Amadeus knew exactly who it was, but he made it very clear that intel wasn't up for grabs, "they were trying to replicate her powers. That's why Inessa won't go through the Valley, even to save herself. There's a chance she might not be alone anymore. No evidence has ever been found to back this up, but she's been right so far. I'm willing to be she isn't wrong here."
A chill crept up Bucky's spine. Now it all made sense- whenever he'd asked Inessa for information she'd looked away. He assumed she was breaking eye contact, shutting the conversation down- but the more he thought about it the more he realized that she wasn't just looking away, she was looking into the shadows as if they might have ears. That was why he'd never get the full story. That was why she needed him lost in all of this- it was literally too dangerous to tell him anything of value.
"And now your riddle," abruptly Amadeus jumped forward and put his mouth to Bucky's ear to whisper, "Why did Nikolai Ryker risk everything to flee Hydra with his niece only to sell her back later without a second thought?"
Bucky's eyes widened as Amadeus leaned back against the wall. The boy was right- when he found out Dimitri Aristov was Inessa's recruiter and uncle he'd been aghast. As he tortured the man to death he asked over and over again why he'd done it, how he could be so cruel to his own blood- a child he'd raised! Sometime between Aristov's last breath and the fight with Morris' cabal Bucky forgot his question- or decided it wasn't important anymore, "Dimitri's gone, how am I supposed to answer that?"
"It's a riddle," Amadeus wasn't giving him any more help, "figure it out."
"But-"
"Hit me," Amadeus cut him off and leaned against the cell wall, "we're on a clock, remember? Let's get started."
Chapter 21: 44 Days Before the Explosion
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Meditation apps want to calm you down on the same device that stresses you out
New Post has been published on https://nexcraft.co/meditation-apps-want-to-calm-you-down-on-the-same-device-that-stresses-you-out/
Meditation apps want to calm you down on the same device that stresses you out
Meditation is many things to many people. The Dalai Lama’s practice is rooted in the particularities of Tibetan Buddhism. Jerry Seinfeld prefers transcendental meditation, a mantra-based exercise he’s done daily for 45 years. In many Hindu ashrams, the practice of yoga and meditation merge, bringing the spiritual, physical, and psychological together. Whatever form it takes, the goal is to quiet the mind. Thoughts may wander, but it’s within your power to return to your focus to a religious icon, a helpful saying, or the simple rise and fall of your chest.
Humans have been meditating for 5,000 years, says Stephen Sokoler, founder of Journey Meditation. But in the last decade, something changed: We’ve started to take deep breathing instructions from our phones.
Sokoler, who adopted Buddhism while living in Australia, founded Journey in 2015 to bring a “secular” approach to mindfulness—and the stress reduction, pain relief, and lifted spirits it reportedly affords—to corporate America. In time, instructors in 20 cities were guiding group meditations for employees at Warby Parker, Nike, Time Warner, and Conde Nast.
This month, Journey made its App Store debut with Journey Live, a pleasingly bare bones addition to the overstocked zen-in-your-pocket market. Instead of pre-recorded (and eerily perfected) meditation modules, the app offers 15 minute live classes with young, telegenic instructors at steady intervals throughout the day. This week, me and 25 of my fellow students tuned in for Azaria’s 7 a.m. class, where she reflected on the sensory experience of her commute into work—and asked us to meditate on the sights, sounds, and noises around us. At 1 p.m. on Mondays, Cheryl offers a “Community Class” just for moms. And most nights, you can wind down with evening meditations at 9, 10, or 11 p.m.
Sokoler’s bet on live video has already garnered comparisons to Peleton, the ascendant exercise company that pairs in-home exercise bikes and treadmills with live fitness classes, beamed directly into a touch-screen panel on the stationary device. But streaming isn’t the only thing they have in common.
Self-improvement apps like Journey Live comes at an interesting time in the history of technology. Americans are more aware of the addictive design strategies built into their smartphones and smartwatches than ever before. Yet most feel powerless to cut back or quit. At the same time, a cultural emphasis on “wellness” and “self-care” has crested. In lieu of real systemic change, people turn toward individual pseudo-solutions, many sold by the same companies creating the problem. Even after the hyped launches of Apple’s Screen Time control and Google’s Digital Wellbeing initiative, users young and old still struggle to put their phones down.
Meditation apps are perhaps the purest distillation of this peculiarly 21st century problem. They encapsulate, in just a few pixels, the promise and peril of these thin black bricks we navigate, communicate, sleep, pee, poop, and, now, improve ourselves with. Curious, I downloaded a few of the products on offer, and set about answering a question we’ve all been forced to ask: Can one good app cure the sickness caused by the other 99?
At last count, in 2017, there were 1,300 meditation apps ready for download, according to the Financial Times. Scrolling through the surfeit of choice, one pattern quickly emerges: Meditation companies love circles. Curling waves, colorless rings, dots, rounded letters, the halo of the moon. But beyond that, the apps present a wide variety of experiences, suggesting something for everyone. Stress, anxiety, insomnia, trauma—there’s an app for that.
Headspace is the cartoon giant of this cottage industry. Andy Puddicombe, a Brit who spent a decade training as a Buddhist monk, founded the company in 2010. He brought this rigor to the product: The app is built around “courses” that allow users to progressively deepen their foundational skills. The programs are simply titled: 10 sessions on “Happiness,” a quick hit on “Falling Back to Sleep.” One of the oldest options in the game, it’s also the most popular. Regularly listed in the top 200 apps on the App Store, Headspace has almost half a million ratings (and a cumulative 4.9 star review).
Calm, the most pop culture-conscious of the set, also claims a top spot. The app offers the usual selection of goal-oriented instruction, with guided meditations on everything from improving focus to growing your capacity for gratitude. But it’s best known for its so-called sleep stories, many of them voiced by celebrities. I tried “Blue-Gold,” narrated by Stephen Fry, who softly and slowly delivered a story about the “lavender fields and sleepy village of Provence.” While I stuck to the basics (i.e. the free trial), premium Matthew McConaughey insomnia content was always begging to be unlocked. Also on offer: an “exclusive” Moby album, an Easter Island-themed story, and an opportunity to “Journey to the Stars” with LeVar Burton.
Three apps (including Journey Live) would have been plenty for my short-term self-experimentation. But Breethe, a relative up-and-comer with just 28,000 App Store reviews, also stood out. Founded by Lynne Goldberg, who credits mindfulness with her recovery from a cascade of personal trauma, it takes a broader view of mindfulness than its competitors. Goldberg, who has often been called a “guru” and a “life coach, offers experience-specific sessions on everything from financial anxiety to infidelity. In addition to guided meditation, there are also “Masterclasses,” “Inspirational Talks,” and even hypnotherapy.
With thousands of years of wisdom and hundreds of hours of content now installed on my phone, I set about simmering down.
The first thing Headspace, Calm, and Breethe ask you when you open their app is why you’re there. Stress reduction, anxiety reduction, improved focus, improved relationships—the list of fundamental human problems is surprisingly short. The insight helps the company serve you relevant content. It’s also useful data, letting developers quantify users’ needs. (The in-app search function works the same way; if user after user comes up empty, it signifies a gap in the app’s offerings.)
The next steps are trickier, intertwined as they are with notoriously-troubling user experience design strategies. Take notifications: I’m personally opposed. Nothing but workplace Slack messages can light up my lock screen, and even those automatically turn off after 6 p.m.. But when I tried to say “no” to the automated prompts, Calm asked,“Are you sure? It’s hard to set aside time for yourself in our busy world without a little help.” I gave in, and got regular updates like “Cobwebs of mind are cleared with the meditation broom” (from Calm) and, paradoxically, “Every time your phone vibrates or pings today, pause and follow one breath before looking at it” (from Headspace).
Megan Jones Bell, a psychologist and Chief Science Officer for Headspace, argues these notifications are fundamentally different than a Twitter ping or the siren call of Candy Crush. “The notification experience should really be thought of as an intervention, not as a consumer technology engagement tactic,” she says. “A lot of our notifications are not necessarily directing you back to the app.” Rather, they’re reminders of a user’s intentions—the desire for a new perspective that brought them to the app in the first place.
From a business perspective, this makes perfect sense. Every one of these meditation apps works on a freemium subscription model. Headspace offers a few free units, but anything else is $13 a month. Breethe costs the same after a two week trial run. Once you provide your credit card information, Calm is free for seven days and then a $60 annual fee kicks in. (I set a calendar reminder to ensure I unsubscribed in time.) Journey Live is slightly steeper at $20 a month. Without ads or other money-making gimmicks, these platforms don’t need to drive attention to the app the way classic attention economies like Facebook do. Once you’ve paid, it doesn’t really matter if you return.
But from an emotional perspective, notifications are a little more complicated. Headspace’s reminder to “pause and follow one breath before looking” at my phone sent me into a small paroxysm of panic. Like a lab rat in a grand psychological experiment, I’ve been trained to respond to notifications as though they are urgent notes from my manager, angry letters from readers, or terrible alerts about the state of our world—because they probably are. Taking a breath before reading such missives is, undoubtedly, sage advice, but the delivery method gave me another kind of pause.
A similar wave of nausea washed over me in the middle of a Journey Live class. Unlike the pre-packaged offerings in other apps, which can (and should) be used in airplane mode, a livestream requires WiFi. Before I closed my eyes for the meditation, a banner notification for an important email flashed across the top of the screen, sending the very thoughts I was trying to calm spiraling. It revealed another of the industry’s catch-22s: If I had been attending an in-person session (the way meditation has been practiced for thousands of years), I could have left my phone in my purse. But if I had to go in person, I would never have been able to join in a guided meditation at 10 a.m. on a weekday.
Gamification poses a similar conundrum. Two of the apps, Calm and Breethe, track “streaks,” or the number of sessions a user has completed in a row. Calm rewarded me for completing my first session with a “1 Mindful Day” badge, with the promise that there were many more where that came from. Breethe, meanwhile, keeps a scoreboard at the top of the homepage, with the number of sessions, longest and current streak, and total time all tabulated. These 2-D medals have become a part of the tech-savvy zen-seeker’s vocabulary, with people alternately bragging about their badges on r/Meditation and stressing out over broken streaks in YouTube confessionals.
Garner Bornstein, co-founder of Breethe, says the company’s decision to incorporate a gamified element wasn’t made lightly. “Part of us didn’t want to go there,” he says. But they had to face the facts: “What we know about people is that they like to see progress.” Explicitly calculating a user’s success brought them back to the app and, Bornstein extrapolates, allowed them to incorporate meditation into their life in a meaningful way, over the weeks and months, not a few tap-happy hours. This, he acknowledges, runs “counter to what meditation is, which isn’t about the past, the present, the future, what you did or didn’t do. But at the end of the day, the goal is to help as many people as possible.”
In that, these companies seem to be succeeding. Self-reports are notoriously unreliable, but Jones Bell at Headspace and their research partners have published peer-reviewed data on their app’s ability to fulfill some of meditation’s core promises. In small randomized control trials, they’ve found evidence of decreased stress and reduced aggression. Other platforms are following suit in an effort to validate their own approaches to mindfulness. Calm, for example, just published its first formal study on using meditation to manage symptoms of cancer treatment. But there’s still a lot to learn.
There’s also a lot more to build. Headspace offers content on Amazon Echo and Google Assistant, allowing you to turn off the blue light of your phone and meditate with an auditory interface. Calm has some functionality on Google Home, Apple HomePod, and Sonos, so you can listen to McConaughey’s soporific southern drawl in the dark. In talking about the ways his app could change according to user demand, Sokoler of Journey Live mentioned the potential for immersive meditation experiences in virtual reality. With a little work, it seems we can continue to create space between a tech-based mindfulness practice and the tech itself.
Even now, with pesky notifications and unproven products, I plan to continue using my iPhone’s assistance in meditating, and will recommend that anyone who asks do the same. With the number of apps available, there’s something for everyone. When my experiment was done, I deleted Calm, Breethe, and Headspace. But I kept Journey Live. The only notifications it sends me are to let me know my class is starting. That’s the only notification I need.
Written By Eleanor Cummins
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The Complete Guide to Ridiculous Super Bowl 53 Prop Bets
The Crossing Broad staff has done a deep dive on several of the more ridiculous Super Bowl 53 prop bets. Keep in mind, these props come from a wide range of sportsbooks and all may not be available at legal New Jersey sportbooks. You can also check out our full guide on where to bet on the Super Bowl in New Jersey.
Will the Nielsen Rating of Super Bowl 53 reach 44.5? Over (-110)/Under (-110)
This number has only gone below 44.5 twice in the last 10 years. Super Bowl LII actually pulled a 43.1 last February. Super Bowl XLII pulled a 42 number. Both of those games were on NBC, however NBC also had a pair of Super Bowls that pulled 47 and 47.5, and I don’t see anything in the research that shows much differentiation by broadcast. The X-factor here is the LA market, which typically does not do strong Super Bowl numbers. It’s hard to measure how interested Los Angeles is in the Rams and whether or not that translates to strong or weak numbers next week. My lean is over, but the Los Angeles market is unpredictable. How interested will it be in the Rams?
-Kevin Kinkead
Will Jim Nantz or Tony Romo say “Philly Special”? Yes (+250)/No (-260)
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Interesting question. It’s obvious the play that was ranked the top sports moment in 2018 by Sports Illustrated will be a part of the Super Bowl broadcast. The ballsiest play to ever be called in a Super Bowl was run to perfection against the Patriots (moments after Tom Brady dropped a pass of his own) and was ripped from the Patriots playbook, so it will certainly be brought up during the game, but will either Jim Nantz or Tony Romo actually say the words “Philly Special”?
It’s tough because the play is essentially known by two names. “Philly Special” is the official name of the play, but “Philly Philly” will forever be immortalized when Nick Foles asked Doug Pederson if he wanted “Philly Philly” near the end of the second quarter. Do you trust Romo or Nantz to call the play by its official name, or will they simply just say “Philly Philly”?
I can’t find either of these announcers discussing the play in interviews during the season, so I have no basis on how they would make reference to it.
The value isn’t bad for a “yes” answer at +250, and if anything Romo has proven that he knows the ins and outs of everything going into a game, so he should know that the actual play was called the “Philly Special.” I would put a few bucks down on “Yes” for this prop bet. -The Coggin Toboggan
Will the winner of Super Bowl 53 visit the White House? Yes (-200/No +150)
If the Patriots win the Super Bowl, odds are that, yes, they will visit the White House and President Trump. The last two times the Patriots won, in 2015 and 2017, they visited the White House both times. Barack Obama was president in 2015 during the team’s visit and Trump was president in 2017. So they’ve attended while both a Democrat and Republican President was in power.
Tom Brady and Bill Belichick are both fans of President Trump, even though Brady didn’t attend the 2017 ceremony and may have lost favor with the President. But Patriots owner Bob Kraft has a deep friendship and personal relationship with Trump, so it’s likely a delegation from the Patriots will attend.
On the Rams side, Sean McVay was able to steer the team clear of the National Anthem protests last season, a major thorn in Trump’s side over the last two seasons. Defensive end Robert Quinn, who raised his right fist during National Anthems at the start of the 2017 season, is no longer on the team. Additionally, owner Stan Kroenke donated $1 million to Trump’s inaugural committee in 2017 and has had no public comments since about any falling out with the President or his ideals, so the Rams would likely send a few players to the White House as well.
Trump’s inability to congratulate the Rams on their Super Bowl appearance (he only congratulated the Patriots, Brady, Belichick and Kraft for making the Super Bowl in a tweet) may sour some players, but I’d say a bet on the “Yes” side of this prop is a good one. -The Coggin Toboggan
What will be longer? The Total Days of the Government Shutdown (+110) or Yardage of the Longest TD (-140)
UPDATE: This was written before the Shutdown was over. Take the yardage.
Let’s say the shutdown extends all the way to Super Bowl Sunday. That’d be 43 days (we’re at 34 as of 1/25). That might be tough to beat.
Last year, the longest touchdown was the Alshon Jeffery 34-yard catch in the first quarter. In Super Bowl LII, Robert Alford got an 82-yard pick six. Overall, in the nine Super Bowls played this decade, there’s been a total of six touchdowns longer than 43 yards (two in Super Bowl XLVIII, two in Super Bowl XLVII, one in Super Bowl XLIV). Outside of the Alford pick six, there hasn’t been a TD scored that’s been at least 35 yards.
This season, the Patriots have scored six TDs longer than 43 yards. Their longest in the postseason was a Phillip Dorsett 29-yard pass against the Chiefs in the AFC title game. As for the Rams, they’ve had four TDs longer than 43 yards, but all of them have come in the first four weeks of the season (Cooper Kupp had two of them). Since then, their longest TD was a 40-yard catch from Gerald Everett in that crazy Monday Night Football game against the Chiefs. Their longest TD in the postseason was a 35-yard Todd Gurley rushing score.
If the shutdown ends sooner rather than later, it’s a good chance that the longest TD is greater than the total days of the shutdown. But if I’m betting right now, I’m going with the total days of the shutdown.
-Chris Jastrzembski
Will the Dome of Mercedes-Benz Stadium be Open at Kickoff Yes (-280)/No (+210)
It’s a beautiful stadium and dome. But in its biggest games, the dome has been closed.
In both SEC Championship games in 2017 and 2018, as well as the 2018 College Football Playoff National Championship and the 2018 MLS Cup, the roof was closed.
The current weather forecast calls for rain for most of the day and evening. Without a doubt, the roof is going to be closed, even if the conditions outside are fine.
-Chris Jastrzembski
Which Song Will Maroon 5 Open With?
Plenty of people groaned at Maroon 5 being named the headliner of this year’s Super Bowl halftime show, but look at the list of performers in the title game’s history. Be grateful you are living in a time where Up With People doesn’t get the nod three times in seven years. The other upside to Maroon 5 playing the halftime show is that you know so many of their songs. Unfortunately, this makes figuring out which of those songs they will start the show with that much more difficult.
Here are the odds on which song they will open their show with as of 1/24:
“One More Night” and “Makes Me Wonder” — +300 “Animals” — +500 “Don’t Wanna Know” and “Girls Like You” — +600 “Moves Like Jagger” and “Sugar” — +700 “Payphone” and “Maps” — +1200 “Mic Jack” — +1500 Any Other Song — +400
You might be able to win a bar bet with this nugget: Maroon 5 have only placed four singles at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100. All four of them are listed above in bold. “This Love” and “She Will Be Loved” were not #1s. You learn something new every day.
On Maroon 5’s recent tour, they opened every show with “What Lovers Do,” which only ever reached #9 on the Hot 100. That makes any other song at +400 pretty enticing — you get “What Lovers Do,” “Love Somebody,” “Harder to Breathe” and a lot of other hits as an entry.
It might also help to see what recent performers opened with. Last year, Justin Timberlake opened with “Filthy.” Two years ago, Lady Gaga opened with “God Bless America.” Three years ago, Chris Martin opened the show by singing the chorus to “Yellow” before the full band played “Vida la Vida.” I would have lost my ass on “Clocks.” What the past three years tells you is that there is no formula (and apparently no mandate as to what the artist leads with), so the artist’s preference is what carries the day.
A unit each on “One More Night,” “Makes Me Wonder” and “Any Other Song” should at least get you your money back, but if pushed, I’m riding with “Any Other Song.” Adam Levine clearly feels comfortable opening with “What Lovers Do,” you’re getting a number of other strong contenders — “This Love” especially is a song that will reach the entire viewing audience — and you’ve accounted for the possibility that Maroon 5 pulls a Gaga, gets political and opens with something like a verse from “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall.” Phil Keidel
Gladys Knight National Anthem over-under 1:50?
I’ve done an obscene amount of research on this and was only able to find one video of Gladys Knight with or without the Pips singing the Star-Spangled Banner. Boom:
youtube
That’s a crisp 1 minute and 38 seconds, and she’s a full 27 years older. No way she can hold the last note that long.
This line is low, though. Five singers since Super Bowl 40 have gone over 2:00 minutes when singing the National Anthem– Alicia Keys, Lady Gaga, Idina Menzel, Jennifer Hudson and, weirdly, Luke Bryan.
Alicia Keys, who couldn’t read a phone number without an interlude, was the longest at 2:35.
This means oddsmakers already implicitly like a shorter version this year. The line has come down in some places to 1:45, so clearly the smart money is under Gladys Knight… if you can grab this before it dips to 1:40, I’d hammer Gladys and the under.
-Kyle
What will be higher Trump’s approval rating or the longest field goal in the game?
Donald Trump’s approval rating is around 34-36 depending on where you look, and that’s under the average NFL made field goal length of 36, so the odds, at first blush, appear to be pretty even. But given the fact the game is LIKELY being played in a dome and that every playoff game this year except for the Colts-Texans and Chargers-Patriots games have featured a field goal of at least 36 yards, the field goal seems to be the play here. It is the favorite at -140, but it’s worth noting that the end of the government shutdown may push Trump slightly higher. Still, take the field goal.
-Kyle
How Many Maroon 5 Songs Will be Played During the Halftime Show?
Over 3.5 — -160 Under 3.5 — +120
Yeah, yeah, I know, Travis Scott and Big Boi are going to be up there, too, and they need to be heard doing something. But there are plenty of Maroon 5 hits that feature similar players. Wiz Khalifa contributed to “Payphone.” Kendrick Lamar was in on “Don’t Wanna Know.” Future guested on “Cold.” So even if Scott and Boi (that was fun to write) get a minute or two of airtime, it’s probably going to be partly chiming in on a Maroon 5 song. None of the songs that were given their own odds exceeds four minutes in length, and because so many of them sound the same, they are all easy to string into each other in two-minute bursts. So we should definitely get segments of five or even six different songs being played in the halftime show running time, which in the last three years has been 13:45, 13:33 and 13:11. This is an over, all day.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go listen to some jets take off to get Adam Levine’s voice out of my head.
-Phil Keidel
Jersey Number of First/Last Touchdown Scorer Over (-134)/Under (+100)
When I saw the betting line on the props bets for jersey number of the first and last touchdown in the Super Bowl, I did a double take. Showing my age, my first thought was this has to be a mistake. The majority of touchdowns scored are scored by guys with uniform numbers 27 or higher. I mean, there are 73 numbers between 27 and 99 compared to just 26 between 1 and 26. Why wouldn’t the odds be more diverse? So, I had to dive into it. I had to look closer to find out if my initial instinct was correct, or if there was something more indicative into the logic of setting the line where it is. As such, I went back and reviewed the box score for each of the 52 previous Super Bowls and looked at who scored the first touchdown and who scored the last touchdown.
Here’s what I came up with:
First Touchdown of the Super Bowl
Uniform number 27 or higher – 39 times
Uniform number 26 or lower – 13 times
Last Touchdown of the Super Bowl
Uniform number 27 or higher – 39 times
Uniform number 26 or lower 13 times
At first glance, my hypothesis seemed correct. That’s 75% of the time that the first or last touchdown in the Super Bowl would be scored by someone with a uniform number of 27 or higher.
As such, just based on this data, betting the over would seem to be really good odds. I mean, yeah, it’s minus 134, but it’s not like it’s minus-260.
It seems like a real value bet, but then I looked a little closer. See, I told you my original theory was rooted in age. That’s because nowadays, more wide receivers are wearing lower numbers than they used to. I’m not exactly sure when the trend started toward lower numbers for receivers, but since 2001, both the fist touchdown and the last touchdown of the Super Bowl were scored by guys with uniform numbers of 27 or higher just three times.
From Super Bowl XXXI through Super Bowl XXXV it happened every year. In fact, it happened in 25 of the first 35 Super Bowls, and through the first 40 Super Bowls, it never happened that both the first and last touchdown of the big game were scored by a player with a uniform number of 26 or below. Not once. Since then it’s happened three times (Super Bowls XLI, XLVIII, XLIX).
And then there’s this stat:
First Touchdown of the Super Bowl:
LII – Alshon Jeffrey (No. 17)
LI – Devonta Freeman (No. 24)
L – Malik Jackson (No. 97)
XLIX – Brandon LaFell (No. 19)
XLVIII – Marshawn Lynch (No. 24)
That makes four of the last five Super Bowls where the first touchdown was scored by someone with a number below the 26.5 line set by DraftKings and the only one that wasn’t was a defensive touchdown on a fumble recovery in the end zone by Denver’s Malik Jackson.
But wait a minute…what else can we glean from the available information that could help here? Well, of the 104 touchdowns that were examined over 52 Super Bowls, only 10 were scored on defense or special teams. That means there’s a 90.4% chance that an offensive player will score the first or last touchdown.
So, let’s look at the guys who have the best chance of scoring for New England and Los Angeles.
For the Patriots, there are 10 guys to consider. Five of them have uniform numbers of 26 or lower (Tom Brady, Sony Michel, Julian Edelman, Philip Dorsett and Chris Hogan), and five of them are 27 or higher (James White, Patrick Develin, Rex Burkhead, Cordarelle Patterson and Rob Gronkowski).
For the Rams, there are eight guys to consider since they don’t spread the ball around as much as the Pats do. They have just three guys at No. 26 or lower (Jared Goff, Robert Woods and Brandin Cooks) and five guys at No. 27 or higher (Todd Gurley, C.J. Anderson, Gerald Everett, Josh Reynolds and Tyler Higbee).
That would give a slight edge to the over (10 vs. 8) but you pretty much have to take the quarterbacks out of the mix. Neither Brady nor Goff are particularly known for rushing the ball. Brady ran for just 35 yards this season while Goff ran for 108. They each scored two rushing touchdowns though, but that would mean they would have to be down at the goal line and likely trying to plunge it in.
So if you take them out of the mix, that leaves you with 10 guys with uniforms that are over the number and just six guys with uniforms under the number.
With that information, the odds definitely swing more in the favor of over.
But, there’s one other thing to note: only 13 of the 52 touchdowns that were the last touchdown of the game were scored by running backs, meaning late in the game – and that’s historically. In today’s pass-happy NFL, it’s a good bet that the RB’s odds of scoring late are diminished even further, while 19 of the 52 first touchdowns were scored by backs – meaning they’re more a bit more active early. So, to me, this comes down to receivers, which gets us back to even – five on each side of the over/under line.
That’s frustrating. The over bet is no longer a value play and the under bet is the correct odds. So, there’s nothing here that really makes me want to take a side. Mathematically, you should go with the under if you absolutely must bet it. But the odds aren’t in your favor here either way.
In closing, this prop is simply a sucker bet. Avoid.
-Anthony SanFilippo
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Project Echo, Part 3: Chapter 30 (Extreme Measures)
Part 3 Summary: Seven years after the events of “Part 2”, Avengers Tower explodes, fulfilling Bucky’s vision. All evidence points to Avengers Shadow-Ops leader Inessa Ryker, who is forced to seek out Bucky in hiding. Together they must determine who the traitor is in their ranks and if their friends are still alive- all while trying to survive deadly ambushes orchestrated by Sam Wilson and his hand-picked army.
Chapter 30: Extreme Measures
"So that's why you're hunting her? Because she threw a jar at your head?" Bucky leaned back in his seat and made a face, "You're as crazy as she is."
"No," Sam snapped, "that's why I stopped buying into her bullshit! They found Noelle in the Project Helius lab in so many pieces Banner had to take her back in bags! Inessa tortured her for hours. There were marks on her tongue- at one point, fairly early on, she tried to swallow her own tongue. Inessa ripped it out of her face and turned her so she wouldn't drown. It took Noelle long enough to die that the blood was almost clotted before her heart stopped beating."
"Why?" That's the part Bucky couldn't follow, "Why would she kill her? At the Tower you arrested Inessa for the murders of Steve, Tony, Thor, Nat, Clint, and Banner. You never mentioned anyone named Noelle. Explain that for me."
"I said she killed her," Sam nodded, "I didn't say Noelle was innocent. Inessa was using the Helius lab as a private office for what appeared to be years. One of the things we found there were the results of a bone analysis Inessa had JARVIS run on Noelle after she was injured on a mission two years ago."
"And it said what, 'kill me please'?"
"It said she'd been cryogenically frozen at some point in her life," Sam's response shut Bucky down. "Inessa spent two years running background checks, tracking down people, and she never said a word about it. She tore Noelle's life apart piece by piece. Noelle Martinez was an alias. For who? We never found out. Apparently she decided your way was the best way to solve problems. Dimitri Aristov," he said the name in response to a questioning look from Bucky.
He shrugged it off, "You know she suspected there was a traitor, so she found them. So she killed them. So what? You didn't throw me in a cell when I killed Aristov, even after I admitted it to Steve I was still allowed to walk out of there."
"Did she tell you about the attack in Indonesia? The phone records that tipped off the crime syndicate there to mobilize the moment she went off-world?" Bucky shook his head, "Her case, her responsibility. She ordered her own team not to look into it and minutes before she went to the Realms one of their agents receives a call from her phone- and everything starts."
Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but Sam cut him off, "The records were deleted. Tony found the hole- she probably forced Amadeus do it. She kept copies for herself though, for her collection. Copies of e-mails between her and a student offering to pay him for pictures of the park on the same day and time a member of the Counsel of Yggdrasil is murdered- a kid who was later possessed by a Shadow and made to kill everyone, then detonate himself. Lists of criteria for medical testing, a print-out of a list with the names of every missing person in New York City which according to her Tower computer registered as being made one week before Councilman Ingvir's death. The fact that the original Helius device in Astana was repaired with pieces taken from Hydra's new units. Unit's only Inessa had access to! What's worse? She used it! On all 4,000! Created a lake of radioactive sludge in the Valley trying to put another monster into a body- probably that damn bitch Nadya! The weapon Noelle was transporting- everything was there! She used her own lieutenant to cut chunks out of JARVIS' database- wiped out the alarms meant to alert us to her abilities, and there were plans for more attacks!"
Sam slammed his hand on the control console, making his camera shake slightly, "We aren't gullible! We combed through everything to find some explanation, some answer- there was a scrapbook of every major attack by unknown groups going back years. Nearly every unsolved Avengers case- some not even known to the public! Inessa is a monster, human or otherwise. Whatever she has planned next, it'll be ugly, it'll be brutal, and a lot of innocent people will die!"
"If she had Amadeus erase all those records, wouldn't he have raised the alarm sooner? I talked to the boy, he didn't turn on Inessa until what I'm betting is the whole Noelle thing."
"You don't know?" Disbelief (with just a hint of amusement) washed over Sam's face. He leaned closer to the monitor to read Bucky's expression, "You seriously don't know?"
"Explain it to me like I'm five."
"Why did you go looking for Inessa in the first place- after you got out of Hydra?" Sam crossed his arms, he was enjoying this.
Bucky thought back to the confusion and chaos that had been his thought process back then, "I don't know, instinct? Some echo when the programming broke? I spent two years trying to get her out every sane moment I had, it was bound to make an impression."
Sam shook his head, "Wrong. Was she even the only one you did things like that to?"
"No," he admitted it freely, "not by a long shot. But it was the only case where it lasted unnecessarily long and where I didn't kill the person afterwards. That's why I went after her."
"Wrong again," Sam actually laughed, "She never admitted it to you?"
"If I have to ask I'll-" the monitor went black, "what the hell?" Bucky looked around and saw Inessa's finger on a button. Her face was dark, but resigned.
"I said I'd let you leave when we got to the colony," she spoke softly, "I asked you to let Eoin kill me, if he can, so that when it's all over and out in the open no one feels guilty…"
"What was he trying to tell me? This time, you answer."
"This time, I answer," Inessa nodded, "only this time. You want to know why you came looking for me?" He nodded, "Because I told you to. I was trapped in the Valley, fused to Nadya- more beast than person. I was pure instinct, and my only instinct was to find a way to kill the cub- my body. To free myself once and for all. You tried to be nice to me, and I could see you were just as hollow as I was. So every time you went on a mission- every time you passed through the shadows- I whispered in your ear. I told you to find me, and I attached part of my mind to yours so that I would always be able to find you."
"When you were reprogrammed you'd forget, but once all that stopped- the constant push began to drive you insane. That wasn't my intention, but it was getting the job done. You didn't have to blow up Hydra Facility Wonju. There was no real reason for you to do it- that was me directing you. My body was there, but I couldn't reach it because of the lights in those cryo tubes. So I inspired you to do it. That's what Sam was talking about. He thinks I did that to Amadeus as well."
Bucky felt a little violated, but he sort of understood, "Did you do that mind control thing to me any other time? Or to anyone else?"
"Anyone else? Yeah. I've used it to make spies and traitors out of my enemies. To you? No. Once you began recovering your memories I lost my grip on your mind, it was hard enough opening the doors to climb out, forget whispering in your mind."
He nodded to himself more than anything, "Thank you for being honest. For once."
"Are you going to try to kill me now? You know what Sam knows."
"No," Bucky crossed his arms, "I'm not going to kill you. I'm also not jumping ship at the colony or letting Eoin O'Meara kill you." Now it was her turn to look surprised, "I've known you for a long time," he reminded her, "I know how smart you are, you're a genius- best strategic mind I think I've ever seen. When you think you need to be, you're cold as ice and you don't think twice about murder… But you aren't sentimental about it. You wouldn't leave incriminating documents lying around and you really aren't the scrapbooking type."
Her mouth actually fell open, "You believe me?"
"All you had to do was say 'Red Skull' and I would have believed anything you told me."
"So why call Sam?"
"To get answers!" he threw his arms up, "You can't play this all so close to the chest! What harm would it do to just tell me?!"
Inessa took a big breath and held it for a moment, then smiled apologetically, "I… can't tell you that?" Both of them burst out laughing at that.
"When will you tell me though? When it's too late to save you?"
"Oh no," Inessa stepped away from the controls and put her hands in the air, "you'll know long before that."
"When?"
She winked at him and it was nice to see a twinkle in her eyes for once, "When you realize that I explained it all a long time ago."
"You know what this place reminds me of? Detroit." Bucky peered at the mile-high factories that filled the asteroid and belched out enough smoke to fill the artificial atmosphere with a rust-scented smoke. Everything was red and brown- the colors of the metal alloy the locals mined.
"Feels like home," Inessa winked and pulled her hood further down over her face.
"Sometimes I forget you grew up in the slums," crowds jostled them as they made their way through the city. Bucky kept both of his hands on the hilts of his blades. Inessa scrapped a hood from some clothing she'd found in one of the bed chambers on their ship. It was a bit of a fashion statement- just a hood sitting on top of her tank top, but the arm guards and scythes made it clear she wasn't the type any fashionista wanna-be should go after.
Peddlers jumped out from alley ways and spoke in strange tongues as they tried to sell food or drink to the masses. Poverty in the area seemed too extreme for anything resembling weapons or trinkets- or at least no one was selling. Inessa pulled a protein pack from their ship's kitchen out and held it up for a peddler to see. He eagerly ran over and spoke in an unintelligible, guttural language neither understood.
"Asgardian?" Inessa only knew one non-Earth language. Peter had promised once to teach her the common language of the planets outside of the Realms, but they'd never gotten around to it. She didn't think she'd be needing it so soon.
"Asgardian OK. Not good, but is ok," the man eagerly switched (though his pronunciation was abysmal). "You want trade for what?"
"Information," the man looked confused, "I ask, you tell?"
"Ah! OK, ok, ok! Anything for… one quarter!" he pointed to the bar.
"Whole thing, for you," Inessa didn't want to mention that they had a few hundred of those bars back on the ship, "information is important. Very important," even though it killed part of her soul to speak such broken Asgardian, she knew it was helping the man understand her more.
His eyes grew wide, "That feed family for month!"
"Question could be dangerous."
Immediately the man sobered up and motioned for her to come with him into the alley and out of the throng of people. Bucky followed a few steps behind, ready for a fight the second one began, "What you want know?"
Inessa held the bar up and watched the man's eyes follow it as she moved. He was hooked, "What Child of Thanos rules here?"
"Child of Thanos?" the man was surprised, "No Child of Thanos. Colony not claimed. Lawless lands."
"Who is in charge then?"
"In charge is Severrin. Colony Hall is straight three, left, straight two, right."
"Thank you," Inessa handed him the bar. It vanished into his robes instantly and he winked to her, "Good luck, kind lady."
Bucky put a hand on Inessa's shoulder as she walked past and swung around so they walked side-by-side. It was easier to speak quietly, lest anyone actually understand their language, and no matter what planet you were on it seemed that the eyes of a crowd avoided whispering couples, "What's up?"
"This isn't Red's place. It's some kind of neutral territory. He called it the Lawless Lands."
"That sounds promising," Bucky glanced around them. A man with purple skin was on a path that would cause him to brush against Inessa as he passed- no doubt he thought he could swipe her scythe, "11 O'clock." She turned her head to face the man directly and let her brown eyes flash silver. Just the faintest trace of the Shadow's mutated skull danced across her skin before it vanished- enough to inspire the man to turn away.
"We're going straight three more blocks, hang a left, two blocks, hang a right. There's some kind of Colony Town Hall."
"Our contact there?"
"Serverrin," she made a face, "with a name like that I'm betting he's Red's representative on the ground."
"So then- we are going to willfully walk into a trap?"
"You bet your ass."
It felt good to laugh with Inessa as they walked the dark streets towards what was undoubtedly an ambush. Hell, it felt good to laugh with any friend. He needed his time away or else the Winter Soldier would have been all that was left- until someone finally put him down. Still, for a man who'd already lived over a hundred years (counting the time he'd spent in cryo), five years was certainly too long to shut himself away.
"Can I ask you something?" Inessa steered them across the street and down the lane that opened to their left.
He smirked, "Now that's something new."
She pinched his ribs in response and he laughed again, "Why did you forgive me? You were pretty dead-set on going off with Sam."
"No I wasn't. I just acted like I was to piss you off. And it worked. I'm tired of getting information piece by piece- usually right as it's about to blow up in my face. All you had to do was tell me it was him. I would have come. I know what he's capable of- I'm probably the last person left who knows."
"Steve and Natasha are alive," Inessa refused to give that up, "the only thing we have working in our favor is Red's ego. I was in the Tower in the moment leading up to the explosion- before Nadya got me out. They were already gone. No bodies, no blood, no sign of a struggle. Vision showed you Thor's hammer, right? Whatever happened, they didn't have time to fight it. Red S-" she looked around to make sure none were listening, "Red wouldn't kill them without someone there to appreciate it. I think that's what we are."
"He stripped you of your allies so you'd have to come to me," Bucky nodded and they turned down their last street- this one had less than half the traffic of the other two, "you know the significance of that, right?"
"You're the only other one to see his face- the Schmidt face?"
"Nope. I'm the only Super Soldier left that he created. Sin- the one who went after Tony when Morris attacked- she and I were the only ones not made by Erskine or with his help. I'm the successful experiment. I don't think that's a coincidence."
"I've found that when he's part of the equation there is no such thing as a coincidence… I wish I figured that out sooner."
"You figured out Loki was Odin and the Shadow King, you figured out Red Skull was the Warlord of Thanos, and you figured out Marie Richards was a traitor. All in all I'd say that's a pretty good track record."
"The traitor is still in play," Inessa hung her head, "there's still a lot that can go wrong."
Bucky still had his arm around her as they walked, and he rubbed her shoulder with the metal hand, "There's a lot more than can go right." The Colony Hall appeared before them in the distance, a great structure of shining white marble- even in the dark rust of the city around it. No one walked within a hundred yards of the stairs, as if it were cursed ground. Black-clad guards stood at the tops of the steps and watched the passers by intently. At least one had noticed Bucky and Inessa approaching, as far off as they were, and fixed his gaze on them, "One last question?"
"You know how I feel about those," Inessa warned.
"You got me to look for you with that shadow-whisper thing. If there were another person with even a fraction of your powers, is it possible they used them on Sam?"
"No," her answer was immediate and certain. "Sam was my friend. To make him go against that and hunt me? A change in personality like that is possible with the right whispers, yes, but it would break the person. He'd be completely out of his mind- basically anything the shadows didn't tell him he wouldn't be able to do. He'd have all the cognitive function or lack thereof of an old druggie just before they O.D. With you, all I wanted was for you to find my body, and I preyed on your instinct to protect an innocent life to do that. All I did was remind you, and look how that turned out? Eight months without reprogramming and you were just about insane over all of it. If something got to Sam it would have to have started years ago, and we'd have seen the warning signs."
Something clicked into place, "Last last question, totally unrelated, just me being a bit of a nerd, I don't even care if everyone in this colony overhears me asking," he raised his voice slightly as if to demonstrate just that.
Inessa was suspicious, but she shrugged, "Fine, ask."
"Asgardian is a phonetic language, right?"
"Yeah?"
"I just- if I'd stayed I would have had Thor teach me a bit. I like languages. Is it hard to learn? What's the alphabet like?"
They broke free from the people at last and entered the Dead Zone in front of the Colony Hall. No guards made a move to stop them, but more were watching them now. They continued through to the steps, "Is this really the time?"
"Do you want to psych yourself out before what's probably going to be a fight?"
"Fine," he released her shoulder and they walked side by side normally, "the writing can be tricky, because it's not just about the symbol, it's about how it moves. It's like the tones in Chinese on a written-level. It makes you a bit sea-sick until you get used to it. Even then it's tough… There aren't too many characters though, the rotation determines how hard their sound is."
"So," he eyed a guard as they passed, but the man(like guy) made no move towards his weapon. They were vigilant, but the doors appeared to be open for any brave (or perhaps stupid) enough to enter, "How many letters? Is it like Hawaiian?"
"More like… Korean I guess?" Inessa shrugged, "Redundant letters are done away with. 'D' and 'T', 'R' and 'L', 'G' and 'K', 'I' and 'E'- for the most part they make the same sounds, so in Asgardian they become the same letter, just with different tones on the sounds."
"Teach me sometime?"
"If we survive long enough," she held up her hand as they passed through the doors. The interior was pristine- Inessa almost felt guilty for tracking in the grime of the streets. Guards still watched from fairly regular intervals, but these did have their hands at the weapons on their hips. Inessa just hoped they weren't guns. That wouldn't work in her favor.
"We are here to speak with Severrin!" There was no sign of a reception counter- it was just a big, white room- so Bucky shouted for all to hear, "We are only here for information! Give us what we ask for, and we will leave in peace!"
"And if we do not? What then, James Barnes?" a tall, slight man appeared behind a guard. Inessa couldn't even tell where he came from, "You and Lady Ryker slaughter us the same way you did Earth's Avengers, or my friend the Collector?"
"Men like you don't have friends," Inessa stepped forward, "and the Collector was even less the type. You sent a shipment to the Collector- metal for enough broadcasting beacons to coat a world of the Realms. All I want is the location of the Child of Thanos who paid the bill."
"Nadya Ryker, do you not know? I do not take orders here from any Children of the Mad God. These are the Lawless Lands- the free sectors."
"You think I'm impressed because you know who we are?" Inessa unhooked her scythes and held them at her sides, "The Child I am looking for is a fan of ruling from the darkness. He believes the illusion of freedom is the great unifier. The fact that you think you are free from Thanos' reach just proves this land belongs to him. Tell me where his fortress is and you'll survive another day."
The guards all took one step forward and un-holstered their weapons. She wouldn't know until the fight started, but at least they didn't look like guns, "I have ten times the number you have right now. Did you notice once you arrived? This entire colony is protected by the same beacons the Collector created. We decided that so long as we are supplying the mineral, why not order the protection for ourselves? You have no power here, Shadow. You cannot hope to survive an open fight."
"Everyone remembers the claws and the teeth," Inessa rolled her eyes, "but no one remembers the most important part," she held up the scythes, "I was trained by Natalia Romanova, Steven Rogers, Thor Odinson, Clinton Barton, and the Warriors Three. The best fighters in the Realms. Do you really think I don't know how to use these?"
"I cannot be intimidated by a child. My master is capable of much more than you could even dream of! You will never get the location of his fortress from me."
"So, he told you about us? Our names, what we could do?"
"Of course, he is all-knowing, all-powerful!"
Inessa tapped a scythe to her chin and pretended to ponder his words, "Red Skull wants us to find him. I know that for a fact. I think he left a little something out when he mentioned us. Wanna know what that is?"
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK HIS NAME?!"
"No, that's not it. See, my companion, Mr. Barnes, he worked for your master's group for a few decades- unwillingly, mind you- and he made a myth of himself- the most prolific and accomplished assassin in recent history."
"And you think that will help you defeat twenty of my men?"
Inessa nodded, "Absolutely, but that's not the point."
"Fine then, what is the point?" He spat in her direction.
"The point is-" Inessa looked around and shrugged, "-where is he?"
"Wha-" Severrin was so focused on Inessa that he hadn't noticed Bucky was no longer beside her. It was a perfect white marble room- they were dressed in black, trailing mud, how the hell had the man managed to vanish?
An ice-cold blade was at Severrin's throat before he even knew anyone was behind him. Even the guards jumped back in surprise when Bucky spoke, "If it makes you feel any better, I'm 80 years older than she is."
"Just tell us the coordinates for his fortress and you can all go home to your families tonight," Inessa eyeballed the guards to her left and right.
Severrin's laughter actually sounded genuine, "That won't work on us! In our final test of loyalty we strike down our own kin for our master!"
"OK, well Plan B then! Bucky, keep them off of me, and I'll kill them so you don't have to."
"Thanks, but no thanks," he called back, pressing the blade slightly harder against Severrin's throat, "I think I'm ready to try being a hero again! Consider this my audition."
"For what?" She grinned.
"The Shadow Unit!" he leveled a boot to Severrin's back and slammed him forward with enough force that the man passed through the blade. When he fell, it was in two pieces, "Leave the youngest?"
"It's like you read my mind!" Inessa spun and dropped as the guards flew into action. She threw a scythe at the neck of one man and waved her blade around her- slashing through the kneecaps of any guard unlucky to be in range as she chased after the thrown weapon.
Bucky had a bit of a warm-up at the Collector's station, but this time he let himself off the leash. Hydra made sure no hired gun, bodyguard, special agent, or even strike team could beat their Asset in a fight- and for once he was thankful for it. He decapitated the guard Severrin had been standing by, then shoved the torso of his corpse into another. Blood covered the man's face and in his rush to shove the body away and clear his vision he lost what little time he might have had to block Bucky's attack. Within seconds, six of the guards were already down.
Inessa moved like a dancer- as did anyone trained by the Black Widow. She spun around the guards and sliced deep gashes through their spines. One guard managed to slam his weapon- basically a sharp club- into her sternum as she blocked a hit by another. Inessa fell to a knee as her vision sparked and she struggled to catch her breath, but she knew where the guards still were. Before she could breathe she swept a leg beneath the guard who'd hit her and embedded her scythe in his neck. Then she saw his face, "Dammit! Bucky- second youngest!"
"Klutz!" he called back as he hacked his way towards her position. Two guards were using their clubs to deflect his blows- which didn't end well for the guard on his left who got not only the full force of his metal arm, but who also learned a very valuable (if not long-lasting) lesson about Asgardian blades and what all they could cut through. He tossed the blade to his right hand and cut the club in half, then removed the hand of the man holding it.
Rather than kill him, he grabbed the back of his head and brought his knee to the man's face with enough force to stun him, but not to kill him. He stepped on the man's chest for a moment to gain leverage on another guard.
Finally, there were more bodies on the ground than in the fight, and these were the slower guards- either that or the outside ones were finally coming inside. It didn't matter- an entire horde of them hadn't done much more than break Inessa's stride, a few more were nothing special. Less than three minutes after it began, the white room was awash with blood.
Inessa sheathed her scythes and stumbled to her knees. For half a heartbeat Bucky worried she'd been seriously injured- it was impossible to tell through the blood that drenched them both. She panted and popped her neck, then her elbows, "Best workout I've had in months." It wasn't weakness that drove her to the ground, it was exhaustion.
The effects of his own adrenaline rush began to wear off and Bucky likewise began to feel the toll of the fight- though certainly not as strongly as she would. He looked around for the guard he'd stunned and found the man reaching for an abandoned club. Bucky walked over and stepped on the end of it, "Are we going to have a nice talk, or a not-so-nice one?"
"I got this," Inessa got up and walked past Bucky to where Severrin's torso was sprawled. She flipped the body over and rooted around in the black robes until she found a small, metallic disk, "what do you think- remote control?"
"Worth a shot."
She pressed it and almost immediately Nadya sprang out of the shadows with a violent roar that frankly made Bucky want to run screaming- not that he would admit to that, "It's OK," Inessa held a hand out to the wolf. Nadya sniffed her, verifying her mistress was not the source of the blood, "next time you'll get to fight with me. He did well enough. Guard the room if you want, ok?"
Inessa walked away from the wolf and came to kneel by Bucky's legs, across from the man. She reached out and took his head in her hands. Shadows poured from her arms and engulfed the man's head. Inessa's eyes flashed silver and the stream solidified. His eyes turned black and began to give off wisps of black mist. It was identical to how the Avengers had each looked as the Shadow first possessed them to read their intent and decide if it was safe to once again be Nadya Ryker.
She found the image of his base first and foremost in the man's mind. The others were already hardened by the killing of their families- this one was young enough that he hadn't learned to shut out the pain just yet. Inessa followed that to the location where it happened, and in the memory were the coordinates that appeared on the navigation system of the slaving ship that brought the boy to the Red Skull.
"Got it," Bucky snapped the boy's neck as soon as Inessa's hands were down and the connection was broken. "You alright?" She let him help her up as Nadya paced the room.
"Yeah," he was worried about the fallout if he ever killed again, but this time was different than what he remembered, "the bloodlust isn't there anymore…"
"Good," she put a hand on his shoulder, "very good."
"Did we just get Red Skull's base?"
"Yeah," Inessa let out a nervous laugh, "I think we just did."
"Ready to end this?"
"More than." Inessa nodded to Nadya, "It's alright, go back to the Valley and wait there. Next time I'll bring you out, I promise."
"Why not use the Valley to get back to the ship?" Bucky thought his suggestion was helpful, but Inessa's face told him he was very wrong.
"I doubt just one man has the control for those beacons," Inessa held up the silver remote, "if we try to take a short cut, we could end up sealed in there forever. Do you want that? Because I really don't want to starve to death in a barren wasteland."
"Ok, ok, bad idea, sorry," she was a little touchy, but he understood why. They were already walking face-first into Red Skull's trap, making it that easy on him would be basically so dumb that he deserved to win, "let's get to the ship, then you and Nadya can train against me until we get to Red Skull's camp."
Inessa wasn't worried about running out into the streets covered in blood- places like this were the same no matter what part of the galaxy you were in. Everyone minded their own business, but they did open up a path for Bucky and Inessa- and pickpockets now kept a very safe distance. They walked quickly- the outside guards had joined the fray inside, but sooner or later someone would find the slaughter, "What do you mean train against you?"
"Amadeus told me there could be another Shadow," Bucky put his arm around Inessa again so they could speak quietly as they moved through the people. He didn't miss the jolt that ran through her as the anti-shadow beacons resumed their transmission. Inessa pulled out the remote and hit the button a few times, but evidently the other device was stronger. She tossed it on the ground and looked to Bucky purposefully, "I know, you told me so." The beacons reactivating meant someone had found the massacre, but it also meant that Red Skull's new Shadow, if they really were watching, couldn't see them anymore, "Now, you have the advantage- you've had years to hone your abilities, and I doubt the new Shadow's created a Nadya of their own yet, but you need to be ready."
"Amadeus shouldn't have told you that," she was immediately defensive, "if there is another shadow- if- then we can't assume their powers are any less than mine. Doing that means we die."
"I know a thing or two about underestimating your abilities, but I also know that when you're new it takes a while to get the hang of it. You will have the upper hand." He was fishing, but his hunch from before was beginning to take form- and it explained a hell of a lot.
"Don't even begin to think that. If there's a second shadow we have to approach it as if it's been around as long as I have. You know how dangerous it is to underestimate your enemy."
"Fine," Bucky conceded the point, "I get it. We'll train as if you aren't the original."
"Thank you." The ship was in sight by the time sirens began to blare from somewhere high in the smog layer. At that people got out of their way even faster, and filled in behind them with increased density. Inessa grinned- apparently the people were more helpful than she thought. If any guards managed to catch up then the sea of people would stop them dead in their tracks.
"I'll get us on course!" Inessa ran across the docks and up the ramp of the ship with a nod to the civilian guards who manned the area. She'd tossed them protein packs as payment when they landed, and that meant they were more than happy to look the other way as the ship prepared for takeoff. If Red Skull wanted to eventually inspire an uprising he was doing the right thing in starving his own people- they could be bought way too easily. No one put up with stuff like that for long… But Inessa intended to be the one to kill the Warlord, not some miner from the slums of an asteroid colony.
The ship lifted off and shot into space towards no particular location. Only when the colony was a speck on the close-range radar did she key in the code for Red Skull's fortress, "Is it done?" Bucky saw the ship adjust course in the movement of the stars out the window.
"Yes," Inessa looked at the radar, "we're three days away. Out of the frying pan, into the fire."
"I know he meant for us to get that intel, but that was too easy. He's insulting us."
"Something tells me he knows we're aware of his involvement," Inessa learned the hard way that he was always watching, always ready to turn fate against her. She had to live assuming he knew everything, "You go take your shower first, ok? It'll take longer to get the blood out of your arm." The end of their journey was in sight. In three days she'd know if her friends were alive or dead… Inessa was fairly certain that knowledge would cost her her life, maybe the lives of Bucky, Sam, Amadeus, and all of the Avengers… She wanted to be alone, before the anxiety and fear became too much to mask.
Bucky picked up on her tone, "Alright, I remember where the shower was… It's going to be ok. I have faith in you. Even Marie can't stop us now."
"Traitors are capable of a lot, there could be pieces in play we know nothing about. Don't-"
"Don't assume. Yeah, I think I'm finally getting the hang of that." He grabbed the wire brush from their bag and headed to the bathroom. Showering was on the lower end of his priority list though.
He'd finally found the trick to questioning Inessa- rambling conversation. When she described what Sam would be like if he was under the influence of a Shadow struck a memory. He moved from topic to topic with her, but the points he gathered painted a picture that was more than enough to explain Inessa's fear- but he didn't quite have it in focus yet.
Nadya was always Inessa's guardian. He knew that much about her past. The wolf came to her rescue whenever something bad happened like it feared for her life. Thanks to the weapon Tony created Bucky now knew that Nadya was no separate entity- she was part of Inessa, a piece of the girl's very soul-
So what happened to make the infant Inessa create a guardian angel? What terrible thing was bad enough to scare a small child and activate abilities that even her own uncle didn't see until she was a toddler?
Inessa almost went out of her way to tell him to stop assuming Red Skull had a new Shadow. She told him to approach the problem as if his Shadow had been around as long as she had. So what if he didn't create the Shadow? Inessa only ever said he tried. What if he found another Shadow already formed and gave it a boost?
A boost- like maybe having Loki catch Inessa, the more powerful of the two Shadows (he assumed because he never heard of the other) and use Blood Magic to sap Inessa's own strength and feed the weaker creature.
It made sense in the horrible, twisted way that Red Skull's actions during World War 2 had made sense. It reeked of his old pattern- take an old success (Erskine's serum) and bastardize it to create something newer and rougher.
The name in Asgardian on the paper was Marie- unless it wasn't. Hard 'M', an 'ah' sound, ending in 'rhee'. Marie. Except he'd assumed when Calder read the words Marie was already the answer he was looking for. And Calder had never said the first letter.
That's why he'd prompted Inessa until she explained a bit more about Asgardian alphabets. It was phonetic- meaning the number of characters in a name should match the number of symbols. It was how phonetic alphabets worked. Mm-ah-rhee should have just been two characters. Ma-rie.
"Redundant letters are done away with. 'D' and 'T', 'R' and 'L', 'G' and 'K', 'I' and 'E'- for the most part they make the same sounds, so in Asgardian they become the same letter…"
Three syllables… So what if by "Hard 'm'," Calder had meant something different- like just say the letter 'M'? What if the 'R' in 'rhee' was, in English, an 'L'?
Some part of Bucky figured it out just before the rest of him caught up. His legs gave out and he fell to the floor of the bathroom, but he was shaking too hard to pull himself back up. He understood, finally, what had Inessa so scared, so secretive. He knew what Red Skull had up his sleeve.
Why would Dimitri Aristov save his niece from Hydra, keep her and her abilities hidden for years while he slowly drunk himself into oblivion, then sell her to them without a second thought and without even knowing why he'd done it? Maybe because something was whispering in his ear all that time.
Why had Inessa's first known use of her abilities produce, of all things, Nadya- a protector to save her from the darkness and the things that go bump in the night? Because she wasn't the only Shadow Project Helius created.
When Fandrel wrote his warning to Inessa he didn't choose the less-precise Low-Asgardian because it was harder for others to read should the note be intercepted. He chose it to hide the truth behind the words, because in that language two particular names looked almost identical-
Marie-
And Emilie.
Chapter 31: Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt
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