#the scientist and the spider . I am nodding appreciatively

[ratcandy]

Okay okay hiiii hope you don’t mind my sending you two asks a time I am mental illness.

Anyways I see the ship ask thing still Does exist so I propose Herrah x Monomon. They’ve been absolutely rotting my brain

I don't mind !! I am just slow at answering teehee

This is another one I hadn't ever considered before but upon thinking about it for two minutes my brain went "auwuu... I could get behind that I think actually"

Maybe I'm biased because Lesbianism . That is very possible. But also I think (and hear me out) that the potential is There . and I like that Potential. I think I would have to see it written out/presented a bit more for me to REALLY see if I dig it but . With what little I can map out in my head (I've had very little thoughts with Herrah thus far so I am. Hgrn,) I am Thinking ... and I am Looking . A lil bit

[tillys-writings]

Bound to you – Part 1

Neteyam x reader

A/N: Sooooo, this is the first writing I am publishing. This part is relatively short but I do plan to continue it depending on how it is received. It could be considered as an introduction to what I have in mind for the rest of the story. Any sort of feedback is welcomed and appreciated ! For this story, the characters are all aged up which makes them in their late teens, early twenties.

TW: none that I can think of!

Word count: 1.3K

Part two

I could feel the tenderness of the flora crushing underneath my feet as I made my way through the thick forest. The light chirps of the wildlife gracing my ears which fluttered slightly. I could distinguish the faint flow of a stream not too far from my position. I graced my hands slightly on the sparkling flower before it retracted on itself, my eyes growing in slight admiration. The forest always brought comfort onto me. It was an escape from the life I lead in the clan. A break from the frenzy of the war.

I grew up among the Omatikaya clan. They adopted me as one of their own since I can remember. From what I have been told, I was the result of two avatars discovering their bodies amongst the Great War, the result of two sky people’s incapability to remain rational. My mother was shot in the middle of the war, but the scientists were apparently able to keep her body alive long enough for me to be incubated. Except my five fingers I did not feel an ounce of resemblance to them. My family consisted of my adoptive mother and the forest. She considered me a gift from Eywa as she could not have children. It was only the two of us as no males of the clan wanted to mate with a woman who could not assure them a family. But we were happy, we did not need anyone else. She is the one who taught me everything I know. She is my mother, Ane’ewa.

Three years ago, I was able to complete my Iknimya. That was one of the scariest moments of my life but when I saw the proud look on my mom’s face every ounce of fear left my body. I had my own Ikran, Tsi’iu. She was like the sister I never had. I was far from being the best even though I was not the worst, but I am sure that I was one of the most dedicated to train and learn.

A soft ruffling from the leaves brought me back to the moment. Kiri and Lo’ak jumped out from the bushes, laughing and pushing each other. Spider came running behind them, panting slightly.

“Wanna join us? We’re going to the lab.” Asked Kiri. I nodded slightly with a low hum, my face breaking in a smile.

“Come on!” prompted Lo’ak, before running towards the lab.

I walked behind Spider, to make sure he would not fall too far behind us. As we arrived at the lab, I made my way to Norm and Max, to greet them.

“Heeeey y/n” greeted Norm with a huge smile breaking his face. At this, Max raised his face towards me, “How have you been? Long-time no see, you should come around more often you know. We don’t bite.” He finished with a slight chuckle before diving back on his work.

“I know, I know. I had quite a lot of things to take care of, but I guess I’ll try to visit more often.” I sighed slightly, head dropping and facing the ground at the thought of disappointing them.

“Anyways, I should get back to check on the others before they break your lab.” I laughed as I made my way back to the group, trying to change the subject.

“Don’t be a stranger y/n. ” finished Norm, with a slight wave of his hand before I left, casting them a last glance.

I found Kiri and Lo’ak watching Spider with an incredulous look on their face. Lo’ak raised his eyebrows and looked at me with an airy chuckle. When he saw my questioning look, he only added “better to leave it at that, trust me.” As he ruffled my hair. My hands rushing to tame the slight mess he made as I laughed slightly.

“I think I’m going to head back near the camp. I wanted to train a little bit before eclipse. Are you going back right now, or do you want to stay a bit?” I questioned them, heading towards the entrance but still keeping my eyes on them.

Kiri decided to join me while Lo’ak and Spider remained at the lab for a little while.

We were walking side by side in a comfortable silence for a little while before Kiri decided to break it.

“Has anyone begun to court you yet, y/n?” That was a big subject, for both of us. We were of age to find a mate; however, I think none of us were interested in settling down and beginning a family right now. I don’t know for Kiri, but I have things I want to explore, lands I want to discover, people I want to meet. And finding a mate in a time of war would probably end up badly for everyone involved.

I let out a really long sigh, which was already an answer in itself.

“No, and, honestly I don’t know if I am ready to find a mate yet.”

Kiri turned her face towards me, slightly looking up and gave me a tight smile before leading her sight back down in front of her feet, walking gracefully as always.

“I don’t think I’m ready yet, neither.” She whispered, closing the matter altogether.

We fell back into a comfortable silence, taking in the beauty of the nature around us.

We parted ways briefly after arriving back to camp. I made my way to me and my mother’s pod as to gather my bow and arrow. As I made my way outside, my ears perked up to ululating coming from the sky. I looked up and shielded my eyes with one hand. I could make out the dark shadows of the warrior’s Ikrans coming back from a probably successful hunt. Smiling slightly, I continued towards the training division.

There was no one there, which was a relief as I would be able to train freely and maybe, no - probably, miss a few shots with not too much shame. I readied myself, reaching out to grasp an arrow before setting it on my bow, gripping it with one hand while stabilizing it with the other. I took a deep breath, spreading my feet a few centimetres apart. I took a deep breath through my nose. As I exhaled, I drew my bow up and aimed for the centre of the target. I strengthen my core, tried to straighten my back as well as I could before pulling back the string. I could feel the tension of the string residing close to my face. The tension resonating in my arms. I exhaled the tiniest shaky breath I could without moving my stance too much before releasing the arrow. My arms directly taking their place back along my body. I squinted slightly, trying to see the result and where my arrow landed.

“It’s actually not bad at all!” a low voice said behind me. I jumped slightly, before turning around.

“Neteyam! You scared me.” I jokily complained.

“Sorry, sorry… I’ll help you. Grab an arrow!” he added as he made his way over to where I was standing.

I did as I was told, and proceeded to resume the stance I took before, setting another arrow back on my bow. Neteyam took his place behind me, reaching his hands underneath my arms. He applied a slight pressure, bringing my arms slightly higher. As he corrected my aim, he brought his face really close to mine. We were almost cheek to cheek; I don’t know if the heat I felt in my face was radiating from him or not, but it most certainly clouded my mind. My arms faltered slightly, dropping the tiniest bit. “Up.” He said bringing my arms back up. He then went on to correct my back, pushing two of his fingers between my shoulder blades, and pushing them slightly forward. His hand travelled the length of my back and remained at the end. He then brought his other hand on my stomach. “Strong core.” As he tapped his fingers under my navel. I did as I was told, not being able to say anything.

“Good. Now, release.”

My breath hitched in my throat as I released the arrow. It reached the target, a little bit closer to the centre than before. Definitely an improvement.

I turned around to face Neteyam. He was already looking at my face, an endearing smile adorning his face. I suddenly realised that my face was burning from the previous proximity between the two of us, a darker shade tinting my cheeks.

“Thanks.” I said with a shaky breath and a tiny smile, not being able to say anything else as I made eye contact with him.

A/N: Second part posted!

[boop-le-snoot]

what if...

The Multiverse was broken, but all the Avengers were alive and together & you were the resident scientist wrangler. Piggybacking off this ask. This is pure crack. Don't examine this too closely.

The Tony x Doc Ock spider-father bonding time. Science. Thirst. Absolutely no angst. For @slothspaghettiwrites , @sstumpy @viva-asgardia

Part one.

It's barely nine AM and you've just gotten up; still donning your comfiest pajamas and holding onto your favourite morning beverage in the biggest container available, your eyes are trained on the tablet in your other hand. The offensive device keeps vibrating as slews of e-mails and notifications rush in, courtesy of timezone differences and the fact that your pet nerds ignore all incoming messages more often than not.

Tony, specifically, has a penchant of simply muting all people that attempt to interact with him when he's in science mode. On top of that, Natasha had been urgently called in for a black ops mission and asked you to keep an eye on the bird duo and the supersoldiers; with a house full of testosterone, you could safely say your hands were more than full.

As you exit the elevator on the common floor, set on getting at least an egg and toast into yourself before tackling all the demanding people in your inbox, you're already barely hanging onto your sanity from the man screaming right into your ear.

Your finger hovers over the "disconnect Bluetooth" icon briefly, but you take a deep breath and gather your wits. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark is unavailable to answer. Saving the world is a tedious process..." You begin, fighting the urge to tell the rude caller off. "Mr. Richards, if Tony was on the phone, he'd tell you to shove your opinion up your ass and wipe the floor with the toilet paper you call research. Please appreciate the fact that I'm here with you, right now, taking your complaint..."

As you enter the kitchen, you spot Tony and Peter, bent over a tablet directly in front of the coffee maker. Tony looks rough and Pete is downright bruised and beaten; you sigh, pulling the two apart.

"Mr. Richards, please hold," you press the appropriate button on your headset. "Tony, listen, I know that science doesn't sleep but Peter needs a doctor - and I don't mean that pretentious menace of a magician - right now. I swear to Thor, May is going to sue your ass one day."

Tony jumps, wide-eyed and bleary, away from you; Pete, on the other hand, at least has the decency to look embarrassed.

"We have a situation," Tony blurts, pointing behind you.

You turn around, pajama top flying and sloshing in it's container, finally noticing the crowd of random people in the kitchen. Two of them are dressed as Spider-Man, a tall, dark giant of a man has mechanical tentacles, a black man has an arc reactor in his chest - and there's the god-damned wizard, holding some kind of a dinosaur hybrid in a golden glowing cage.

"What the fuck," you whisper, eyeing Clint on top of the fridge. The archer keeps eyeing the lizard-man that spouts suspiciously many holes and cuts. Sighing, you hang up on Reed Richards and calmly place both the tablet and the beverage on the counter. "Alright, okay. Alright."

"Hi, I'm Peter Parker," one of the Spider-Men says, wary eyes shooting between you and Tony.

"The multiverse is broken," Stephen Strange pipes up, seeing your eyebrows crawl upwards and your hands migrate to your hips.

Silently, you ponder your predicament for a few seconds. The men in the room are still frozen, staring at you, side-eyeing Tony who is showing he's earned his genius title fair and square: inch by inch, he slides away from you to get your favourite cup and begin making your coffee. Kudos to him, he always knew when he fucked up.

"Okay," you nod. "Who broke it?" All the Spider-Men begin to try and talk at once, but you shut them up with a swift raise of your hand. "I'm not mad. I just wanna know. Who broke the multiverse?"

"Uh, it was Doctor Strange," Peter, your Peter, tattles, blushing.

"It was Pet... Our Peter Parker," the doctor immediately retorts, indignant.

"Wow, Stephen, I didn't think you could stoop any lower, but there you are, pinning the blame on a child," you scoff, but the bark lacks the bite. It's not uncharacteristic of Pete to stick his nose in places he isn't supposed to. "Who are these people?"

"Me from alternate universes," the baby spider responds, sounding almost giddy.

You take one look at the man with mechanical tentacles. Out of all of them, he looks to be the most secure in his footing; his eyes are sliding across the room, fixating on every piece of technology that catches his fancy.

"Are you sure?" You ask, doubting any Peter could grow to be six and a half feet tall.

"Well, not all of them. Some are, apparently, my mortal enemies or something," he mumbles, unsure, shooting concerned looks at the lizard creature contained in a magic enclosure. "Seriously, why do I get stuck fighting universe-destroying aliens while the rest of you get normal, smart people with too much time on their hands?" Pete sounds almost disappointed, and when he puts it like that, you can't blame him at all. High school is bad enough without extraterrestrial homicidal maniacs.

"That's so COOL, you met aliens!" Another Peter exclaims and the third one enthusiastically nods his head, bobbing like a funko pop toy.

"You're a child," the man with tentacles grouses, sounding like a rightfully concerned adult in a playpen full of toddlers. "You should be doing your homework, not fighting maniacs."

"You try telling him that, maybe he'll listen," Tony shoots at the man, rolling his eyes. It seems like the two of them come to some sort of conclusion together: two of the Peters notice it too, and their identical sheepish faces are too good for this whole situation to be some kind of practical joke.

"Okay, okay, alright," you reach for the cup of coffee Tony so carefully places in your hand. It's steaming, scalding, and you revel in the bittersweet aroma that brings clarity to your mind. "I take it, the team is on board with solving... Fixing... Sending..." You stutter, struggling to find the right words.

"I've called them in," Clint says, not moving an inch from the fridge. Cookie crumbs litter the chest of his tac suit. "Natasha's out 'til tomorrow and so is Wanda."

"So I'm stuck at this sausage party, great," you mutter into your coffee.

The Peter that looks to be around 25 (and you dub him as such - "Middle Peter") laughs, throwing obviously interested glances in your direction. The rest of the men side-eye him but he pays it no mind whatsoever.

"Who are you?" The dark-skinned man asks. "My name is Max," he introduces himself with a certain swagger.

"She's the Scientist Wrangler, man, you don't want to mess with her. Trust me." Sam pipes up, appearing from the storage room, carrying several loaves of bread and other assorted breakfast items.

"Ass-kisser," you bump his shoulder with your fist as a greeting. "Please tell me you submitted your paperwork. Otherwise Coulson is going to keep calling me from different numbers and clog up my call queue," seeing no point on focusing on things you can't immediately fix, you set up to move forward with your daily routine.

"Aw, paperwork," Clint whines, smelling the toast and eggs that Sam had began to make.

"Get off the fridge and stop stealing Bruce's cookies, you manchild," you shout in his direction, picking your tablet back up. The newcomers can only stare in astonishment as you grab Tony by his shirt, dragging him to stand next to you. "Richards called in to file a plagiarism complaint. I told him to fuck off but you know Richards, he's bound to stick his round peg into every square hole. May I suggest a duel on top of the Empire State Building to sort out your differences once and for all?"

Tony's eyes glisten and glimmer; the man all but vibrates in his place. "You're telling me to fight Richards? Can I? Finally?" His fingers twitch, inches away from tapping the wristband that holds his the activator to his armour.

"Of course not, you walnut," the sigh you emit is long and deep. "I know how much it pains you but you have to quote him. Properly, as a source," as you admonish Tony, he deflates, shooting you a hurt look.

"D'you see what I have to put up with, doc?" He addresses the man with the tentacles, who seems amused. "Crazy aliens, crazy scientists, crazy interns," Tony keeps on listing his grief.

"I know a thing or two about crazy interns," the man notes, shooting a look at the oldest Peter, who barks out a sheepish laugh.

"Not another one," you moan, belatedly figuring things out, staring at the man and his mechanic tentacles, and the blackout glasses, and the leather trench coat... "I need a raise. I need a vacation."

Old Peter and your Peter laugh, bubbling, spilling over until they're clutching their sides and Middle Peter has no other option but to point a shaky finger at the lizard creature still trapped by Dr. Strange's magic.

"That one is a crazy scientist, too."

"Fuck all of you and the horse you rode in on."

Your heated words make all of the people grin; they're having a laugh at your expense, you're sure of it, and not even the lizard-man's snarling can put out the flames of indignation on your face. You're quite sure it's the starting circle of your personal hell.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Never a Gull Moment

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 3523

For @yavannie, who wanted Sam to either gain new powers or carry Bucky through the air. Spoiler, I went with both. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Sam’s had an intense first week as Captain America. The perfect opportunity for a break arises when Joaquín contacts him, offering new programming for his suit. All he needs to test the tech are the beach, birds, and one uncooperative bonehead Sam didn’t manage to leave behind in New York.

If there’s one skill Sam’s hoping to adopt from his predecessor—Steve, not Walker (sweet Jesus, not Walker)—it’s the ability to end a conversation with a humble handwave before it can even begin. Steve always had that in the bag. Leading with the wrist in a flick of the hand that came across as both sheepish and respectful. Like he’d love to stop and talk with that fan or this journalist but he was just too busy. And not rude busy, busy with a quiet nobility. Anyway, it all came across in the wave.

Sam hasn’t nailed the wave.

Four days after the GRC vote-that-wasn’t, he’s still in New York, bouncing between TV appearances; everybody wants a piece of the new Cap. Sam wishes they asked a little more about his opinions on compassion for the displaced, as well as those who survived the Snap to form new, functional communities, and less about the look of his new suit, but isn’t it always a battle between style and substance? At least people are listening. To everything except the look Sam knows he has in his eyes, the one that says this debut has been a lot and he’s longing for home.

He knows he has to nail this aspect of being Captain America too. Unfortunately, chuckling amiably with morning show hosts isn’t doing a hell of a lot to distract him from what it took to get him here. There are seconds where his attention wavers—he’ll be nodding along to whatever someone’s saying, or letting his gaze follow a bike courier down the street instead of staying trained on the camera the roving reporter has set up on the sidewalk—and that’s when Karli hurtles into his mind. He feels her desperate blows vibrating the shield, the weight of her body in his arms, in her death.

He can’t keep sitting behind desks or posing impressively and trying to answer the hard questions (on the rare occasion they’re asked) after he’s told people he’s not the expert. When Torres calls up, it’s the close-enough-to-official reason Sam’s been waiting for to step back and do something that actually feels useful.

Bucky, who’s been skulking behind the scenes, somehow never pulled into interviews (if he knows the deferring wave and he’s been doing it just outside Sam’s sightline all week, Sam’s gonna kill him), sticks with him. They head south to meet Torres, and at least that feels like the right direction. Homeward bound. Of course, they stop a handful of states before Louisiana and hug the east coast, but it’s an improvement. They meet Torres at… the beach.

He’s got his foot propped in the open doorframe of a Humvee, giving Sam and Bucky a big, eager, whole-arm wave as they pull up. Not like they’re gonna miss him; Torres is in the only vehicle parked halfway down an unpaved road. Sand dunes climb steep and high just feet from his front bumper, an informal path cutting between the dunes and leading to the water, though Sam can’t see that from this vantage.

Torres’s hand is somehow already grasping Sam’s in a pumping, congratulatory shake before he’s fully out of the car. Sam hears Bucky’s soft snort of suppressed laughter and shoots him a look across the seats. Bucky raises his palms, but Sam spots his smirk before they’re both slamming their doors and stretching their legs after the drive.

“Traffic?” Torres asks brightly.

“Nah,” Bucky answers, coming around the back of their ride. “Sam just drives slower than my grandmother and she—”

“Died on the Titanic?” Sam guesses dryly.

Bucky’s flat stare could be saying a lot of things, or nothing. Sam feels as if he’s been a student of the language of Bucky’s stare for a while now, but his comprehension is still rudimentary. Pop that asshole in a sanctuary for rehabilitated brain-washees, have somebody study his behaviour like Jane Goodall studies chimpanzees, and they might get some answers. The idea starts as something funny Sam almost shares, but then he imagines handfeeding Bucky a banana and it gets weird. He keeps his mouth shut.

“Or she got the cryo treatment too and she’s kickin’ around someplace, speakin’ Russian and makin’ headshots.”

“Come on, man, Hydra jokes about your own grandmother?” Sam scoffs. “That’s not even a little bit funny.”

Torres’s expression is like a kid watching a wrestling match on TV—awed, alarmed, reluctant to question what’s real because he’s just enjoying the show.

Bucky cracks a slow smile and Sam rolls his eyes, slapping Torres’s shoulder to get him to head towards the Humvee and the reason they’re here.

“Nana woulda thought it was funny,” Bucky assures them.

“Nana?”

“Lemme guess… You called your aunt ‘TT,’ so your grandmother’s probably… ‘GG,’ am I right?”

Sam glares at him (because his guess is correct and he’s a pain in the ass) and turns fully to Torres as he opens the back, revealing a large case.

“You were vague on the phone,” Sam recalls, watching Torres tug the case close before undoing the clasps. Bucky leans against the vehicle as he observes, dark pants picking up a swipe of road dust from the dirty taillight. “Something about an update for the suit?”

“Right,” Torres agrees.

He throws the case open to reveal the wings Sam gifted him. They’ve been repaired and Sam automatically strokes a hand over the gleaming, extended metal. If Torres did this himself, he sure worked fast.

“That duffle bag wasn’t good enough for you?” Sam asks jokingly, remembering his gear broken and jumbled, fit to be dragged out with the trash.

“They’re kind my prized possession,” Torres admits. “I thought they deserved to be kept nice.”

“You might even wanna put ’em on sometime.”

“I’m working up to that.” Torres laughs. “I wanted to make sure they were in working order before I jumped off a building.”

“Or out of the back of a plane without a parachute, right, Buck?” Sam asks, smacking the back of his hand into Bucky’s chest.

“I was fine,” Bucky insists.

“Sure you were. We can watch the footage again. I’m up for that.”

“Just let the man finish.”

Torres grants Bucky a wide smile in thanks.

“Yeah,” he picks up, “so I was fixing them, working on the wiring, and when I got the electronics running smoothly again, I started thinking about Redwing—”

“May he rest in pieces,” Bucky contributes.

“Uncalled for,” Sam complains.

“I replaced it, didn’t I?”

“The Wakandans replaced it.”

“As a favour to me.”

Torres’s gaze dances between them until Sam motions for him to continue.

“About Redwing,” Torres goes on enthusiastically. “The sophistication of the relationship between you, how intuitive the tech was. How Redwing understood not just simply-stated commands, but a more conversational approach, interpreting your intentions.”

“Finally, a little Redwing appreciation,” Sam says. He crosses his arms and gives Bucky a meaningful look.

“But what if it was a real bird?” Torres blurts.

Most of a minute passes as Sam stares at Torres’s excited expression.

“I think I might get where Torres is going with this,” Bucky says.

Sam holds up a hand to pause him. He could make a guess at it too, but there’s no need for that. They have the source of whatever alterations have been made right here.

“In your own words, Joaquín,” Sam encourages.

“Well,” he begins, one palm braced in the bed of the Humvee as he leans over the case with unconscious protectiveness, “you know I’ve kinda been itching to get my hands on the wings for a long time.”

“Yeah.” Sam laughs, remembering having to practically slap Torres’s hands away from the jetpack in Tunisia.

“Since you gave them to me a couple weeks ago, I’ve been tinkering, like I said, and I had this idea. Now,” he warns, raising both hands in caution, “this might be either really obvious or really disrespectful to the whole concept of the Falcon, but I started wondering if it’d be possible for the person wearing the wings to talk to nearby birds. Use them like a resource, like with Redwing.”

“Black Panther dresses like a cat with Vibranium claws.”

“Spider-Man has webs,” Bucky adds.

“Right,” Sam agrees, nodding to him before looking back to Torres. “I don’t think it’s disrespectful to lean into the gimmick if it’s amplifying your abilities.”

“Awesome,” Torres pronounces.

“I assume you went further than just wondering about it?”

Torres gives them a modest shrug.

“I know a guy who knows an ornithologist.”

“Bird scientist,” Bucky translates.

Turning his head, Sam glances at Bucky with a no shit look.

“Thanks,” he says insincerely.

“You’re welcome.”

“Long story short,” Torres pipes up, “she got me access to a catalogue of bird calls and the scientific consensus on what they all mean. I patched that info into the suit and, hopefully, it’s something that could be used, uh, on the fly. Sorry, I was trying to think of another way to say that.”

“So my suit would be able to communicate with birds?” Sam checks. “Automatically?”

“Yeah, it would assess your surroundings the same way Redwing does already, but scanning for birds, identifying what kind they are, and having the interpretation of their calls at the ready if needed.”

“What sort of information would I be gaining with this tech?”

“Stuff like… are they feeling threatened or disturbed? Does something feel off about their environment that has something to do with somebody you’re maybe chasing?”

“Mating rituals,” Bucky says.

“How is being able to recognize mating rituals going to help me?” Sam demands.

“You never know.”

“You brought your suit, right?” Torres wants to know. Apparently, he’s not going to bother engaging with Bucky’s nonsense. “It won’t take long for me to install the new software.”

“It’s in the back,” Sam assures him, jerking a thumb towards the other vehicle.

“Great!”

“But just the bird calls. This suit is brand new. No tinkering.”

“No tinkering,” Torres swears.

He sets up his impromptu workshop in the back seat, next to the suit. Sam has to admit to himself that Torres’s reverential expression as he handles the Captain America suit is pretty flattering. He watches the progress until Torres sits back, stating it’ll just be a few minutes for the new programming to be assimilated.

“Why the beach?” Sam asks while they wait.

“I was inspired by some shaky, far-away footage of you in New York. You did, uh, kind of a nosedive into the river there, so I thought maybe you’d be interested in testing your suit’s maneuverability in water at the same time as we did a trial with the bird calls.”

“Are we running a drill or something?” Bucky wonders.

“That’s a good idea,” Torres says immediately. “A scenario to use both the calls and the water.”

“You got something in mind?”

Sam isn’t the one who asks because he can see from Torres’s face that he does. Fortunately, he is the one who gets to laugh when the Lieutenant squints consideringly at Bucky and asks, “How long can you hold your breath?”

—

The last Sam sees of Bucky, he’s taking off his shirt.

“Oh, entire jacket this time?” Torres asked when Bucky took that off first.

After that, it was his shoes and socks, then his t-shirt, and this whole Bucky stripping thing isn’t so much a last look as something that Sam has to stand there witnessing for a while. He’s already in the Cap suit and, seriously, Bucky could’ve changed at the same time. Then, he would’ve been ready to go without making Sam and Torres wait around. But Sam wouldn’t have gotten to see him undress.

“Hurry it up, man.” His voice is a little off because, at the same time, he’s thinking, Please don’t take your pants off.

“If you’re making me play a drowning victim, I can at least not be getting weighed down,” Bucky argues. “This is to help you, right? Quit complaining.”

Finally, he stalks away, mounting the dune in black jeans and a half-assed scowl and disappearing over the top. The plan is for him to swim out, then duck under the water when Torres tells him to (the guy’s brought along waterproof earpieces for the purpose). Next, Sam will fly up and search for the ‘victim,’ relying solely on input from the seagulls wheeling lazily overhead. It’s a good exercise Torres has cooked up.

Sam hands the shield off to Torres for safekeeping before the Lieutenant heads to the beach. The shield won’t be necessary for this and there’s no way in hell Sam’s leaving it in the car. Besides, it’s kinda funny how wide Torres’s eyes go when Sam offers it up. Even bigger reaction than leaving him the wings, though this he doesn’t get to keep.

“On my signal,” Torres restates.

Sam gives him a sharp nod.

Once he’s alone, he paces between the vehicles, eager to kick off the ground. He hasn’t had an opportunity to just enjoy himself in the new suit yet. Leading up to the confrontation with the Flag-Smashers (and Georges Batroc, that fists-of-steel bastard), he was in training mode, focused and determined. In the media-heavy days that followed, he conceded to a few stunts for the camera. Those hadn’t been purely fun though; they were actually something Sam had to think quick and hard about, ultimately deciding that it wasn’t just performing on command but rather giving the public a lighthearted look at their new Captain America. Testing new tech with Bucky, Torres, and a bunch of seagulls? That seems like it’ll actually be a good time.

The instant Torres’s voice in Sam’s ear says, “Bucky’s under,” he unfurls the wings and sails up over the crest of the dune.

It’s not the warmest day and the greenish-blue water’s choppy near the shore, but there is a surprising smattering of people along a quarter mile of beach. Must be locals, Sam guesses, trekking down to the water from nearby houses. That would explain the lack of other cars where he parked. The people aren’t that close or that bothered by his sudden appearance overhead. Startled, sure, but after they’ve identified him (he sees a few hands lifted to foreheads to block out the sun so they can get a good look), he gets to return a couple big waves. Besides that, nobody’s getting to their feet to pound sand and swarm Torres, who’s conspicuously there with Sam—he is holding the shield, after all. Pretty typical. The bigger the crowd, the greater the chance of people scrambling for his attention and/or whipping out their phones to film him. This group seems satisfied with watching Captain America hanging out at their beach on his downtime and Sam appreciates them for that.

“No scanning the water,” Torres says in his ear. Sam laughs.

“I’m not, just assessing our audience here.”

“Is this a bad spot? I didn’t think anybody’d be around when I sent you my location, but—”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry. Did anybody ask you what was up when Bucky waded out into the water?”

“Nah. If they were wondering, they probably aren’t anymore.”

“Glad I won’t have to compete with a lifeguard to rescue him,” Sam jokes.

He hears Torres’s short laugh of agreement before focusing. Not on the water at all, but the birds. Those down on the sand are squawking for food, comfortable enough with these people to complain loudly in the hopes of being fed.

Sam’s sudden swoops scatter the gulls in the air, so he tries easier circles, mimicking their movements to hover high above the beach. Soon enough—these guys either have bad short-term memories or no patience—they start communicating with each other. The new programming Torres has uploaded to his suit signals to Sam that the birds are aware of a disturbance in the water. He gets a target on his goggles’ imaging and dives.

Sucking in a deep breath, Sam crashes into the murky water no more than a hundred yards out. The drop-off is dramatic enough for him to not complete a faceplant into a shallow bottom. Bucky’s treading water a couple body-lengths down, but he wrecks his form to offer Sam a raised middle finger in greeting. Sam’s wings retract as he grabs Bucky’s wrist to haul him to the surface.

They breathe, bobbing in place.

“Thought you’d be faster,” Bucky says.

“You didn’t drown, did you?” Sam points out. “Come on.”

He catches hold of Bucky’s hand and shoots out of the water, wings opening in the air to carry him once the thruster’s done its work. But Bucky squirms below him, their wet grip twisting precariously. Water runs from his sopping jeans.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sam asks.

“I don’t want to be carried to shore!”

“Why?”

“Because dangling this high above the ground feels a little weird to me! Not all of us do this every day!”

“I guess we could run the exercise again.”

“Fine. Let’s do that. Just drop me.”

Sam rewards Bucky’s melodrama by abruptly releasing his grip. Hey, that’s what the idiot asked for, and if he can fall out of a plane to the forest floor, he can plunge into water. It’s not like Sam’s up at aircraft cruising altitude, just high enough to make Torres look like a little action figure army man, standing on the sand in his fatigues.

“Running it again?” Torres wants to know.

“Yep,” Sam tells him, accelerating away from the shore. “Just giving that dumbass time to swim to a new spot.”

“Even though he can’t reply while he’s underwater… you know he can hear you in the comms, right?”

“Oh yeah.”

When Torres lets him know that Bucky’s gone under a second time, they start the drill again. Once more, Sam does a gliding approach to the seagulls. Once more, they go quiet before filling the air with their screaming, overlapping calls. Once more, Sam finds Bucky. He knows he’s quicker this time, so he’s expecting an acknowledgement of that when he contracts the wings, straightens his body, and plummets into the water feetfirst next to where Bucky’s floating below the surface.

Instead of an appreciative nod, an outstretched hand, or even a thumbs up, Bucky darts away from him. Is he trying not to get rescued? Now he’s just fucking up the exercise. Only, Sam can’t even berate him, because he’s still under too, holding his breath as he swims after Bucky. He uses the jetpack for assistance, but Bucky’s a fast swimmer, legs kicking just ahead of Sam. Goddamn human shark.

Because he is not an idiot, Sam surfaces to catch his breath, leaving Bucky somewhere below.

“There a problem?” Torres asks.

“Only with Bucky’s idea of teamwork.”

“Get him like a bird would!”

“Is that a real suggestion?” Sam asks, rising and falling as a small wave swells under him, rolling towards the shore.

“Really, Sam! You know, like how birds hunt fish.” Back on the beach, he makes a sharp, downward gesture with his arm that has Sam chuckling. He gets what Torres means though.

“Alright.”

Sam goes from water to air, then, alerted by a trio of seagulls taking annoyed flight from the surface of the water, goes into a steep dive. Nabbing the swimmer from above is the trick, he learns, when the swimmer is being intentionally uncooperative with the rescue attempt. Bucky might be quick when he knows Sam’s behind him, but when he drops down on him, there’s nowhere Bucky can go. Sam wraps his arms around Bucky’s bare chest from behind and lugs him up for air.

The first thing Bucky says is, “You took even longer that time.”

Frustrated, Sam splashes the back of his head, but when Bucky strokes his arms out, rotating to face him, he’s smiling.

“You messed it up,” Sam accuses. He rubs a hand across his goggles to smear the water droplets off.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun.”

Sam narrows his eyes before a laugh bursts out of him. He can’t help it; it’s the pressure he’s been under, so much internal conflict, suddenly drawn out with the current. Yeah, Bucky was slightly uncooperative, but that’s nothing unusual. Swimming ahead like he was going for a gold medal or forcing Sam to plunge deep after him, the two of them suspended like the goddamn Shape of Water before Sam towed him to the surface—either way, Bucky definitely gave him distinct scenarios to work with. Sam can’t say he doesn’t feel more comfortable now that he’s had some practice. More comfortable with his wings in the water, with working with his feathered allies. With Bucky.

“Still don’t want a lift?” Sam checks.

Bucky’s expression hardens and Sam backs off with a laugh.

“See you on the shore,” Bucky states firmly.

“Alright. Get doggy-paddlin’, White Wolf.”

Sam feels Bucky’s hand shoot out to seize his ankle in retaliation as he launches out of the water, but he’s too slow. Sam’s wings fan wide as he flies up, up, up with the birds.

[boxboysandotherwhump]

The new boy in town.

Tags:  @salamancialilypad  @whumpfigure @albino-whumpee @comfy-whumpee  @ashintheairlikesnow   @haro-whumps   @moose-teeth @vickytokio​ @yet-another-heathen​ @orchidscript

Chapter 2

CW: body-shaming/ insults, discrimination/ dehumanization of mutants, an insect gets hurt, a nearly fistfight ensues

Heat thrummed through Gideon’s bones and throbbed in unison with his building headache. His patience had shriveled up like dried fruit under the torrid summer sun while this horrible lavender scent clung to his hair,  his skin, his clothes, making him dizzy.

It became stronger on the village outskirts, Gideon realized as he hurried after Director Sahin. The man ascended the crooked stone staircase effortlessly, his moss-green robe billowing behind him. His artfully decorated spear swayed with every step he took, not brushing a single leave. The only thing rustling through the underbrush was the wind and the creatures living there.

A twig caught in Gideon’s black curls, while the Director rambled on about the virtues of disciplinary work. How it encouraged the growth of one’s character, or some shit. The twig broke off with a quiet snap, painfully pulling at his scalp. Gideon’s mood dropped even lower. It was going to be a nightmare to fiddle all those shitty branches and leaves out of his hair later on.

He was seconds away from losing his barely-held composure. 

The only thing keeping him from bursting at the seams was the promise he’d whispered into his brother's grave, a last farewell bedded beside a corpse. 

Gideon had come to this godforsaken village to learn how to fight and survive in the forest, not to become some obedient little soldier boy! But in order to do that, he had to get cleared for training again and out of suspension.

If he had to play the director’s errand boy for a day to achieve that, so be it. He had endured worse.  

“Haaah, here we are.” Director Sahin inhaled deeply, arms falling wide. “Finally. My dear friend’s farm. Tell me, young Gideon, is it not simply beautiful?”

Gideon shrugged. “‘S’ okay.”

Granted, the house did look cozy, resting encircled by giant roots with its warm brick walls, but those gigantic snails everywhere sent a shudder down his spine. If he had to touch those slimy monsters he-

The farm’s sliding doors opened before he could utter a protest, and a fine-boned, middle aged woman emerged, followed by a huge man with a greying beard.  A boy, probably his own age but significantly shorter, held the door open for them.

The older woman’s lips curled into a crooked smile as she caught sight of Director Sahin, whose whole face had lit up. Dark eyes shining. 

“Moira. My darling. Please do not tell me you are about to leave? Not when I looked forward to seeing your beautiful face again.”

Gideon suppressed a gag. Moira crossed her arms, smile growing sharper. Her eyes held a warm twinkle as she spoke. “Eric; charming as ever.”

The man behind her stepped closer and huffed:  “M happy ‘ter see ya too, Eric.”

“Oh Ansgar you flatter me. But I must confess, I am not here solely for tea and a chat-“

The Director rattled on and Gideon’s focus wandered to the girl that had stepped out the door behind a blonde woman. A fancy grey blouse hung off her thin shoulders, nearly covering the  lace trim of blue silk short. A stark contrast to the more practical attire favored by most villagers. But that wasn’t what caught Gideon’s attention, no, he had seen all sorts of fancy getups up in Berlin -in the city's upper ring that is- what drew his eyes to her, was her face.

Its left side was oddly deformed, her pale skin uneven like a creased silk sheet, drawing her left eye down and her full lips up. She mouthed something to the boy, smiling, earning a smile from him in turn.

“Ah yes may I introduce: Gideon, my newest student.”

Having lost most of the adults’ conversation Gideon tuned back in just in time, to give them a curt nod.

“I will send him to collect the salve after the feast, then,” Director Sahin announced, please as can be. 

“Wonderful.” Moira clapped her hands. All back to business brusqueness.  “Sahar will appreciate not having to deliver it for once. Right?”

The other boy snapped to attention, green eyes wide and fingers twitching like the hands of a pianist. A grateful smile rose to his face and he nodded.

Oh great, so Gideon had to take the trip up here twice. 

They descended the stairs, lined up one after another on the narrow path. Sahar right in front of him, following the strange girl. He had avoided Gideon’s eyes as he squeezed past him, careful not to touch, probably scared off by his uniform. The school’s emblem, embroidered on his stainless white shirt, proudly declared him a scout in training. Deadly. Fearless. The little farm boy definitely did better not to mess with an insect slayer like him.

The girl came to an abrupt halt, frozen in the woodland’s shadows before it gave way to the dusty hill road. Gideon nearly collided with Sahar, when he heard it.

A primal, bone chilling hiss tore through the hot afternoon air, rattling through his very core. 

Every hair on his body stood, muscles tensing, on edge just like his fraying nerves. 

He knew that sound. 

Even though he’d heard it only once before. On the crusade from last-stand-berlin to the village, where he had seen the beast it belonged to lurk on the riverside, watching them.

He would never forget a spider’s hiss. 

And there one stood, right in front of him, its eight thorny legs towering high above its ugly head. The spider’s giant yaws worked, rubbed against each other in agitation. Its razor sharp fangs glistened in the sun.

A man sat atop its massive, hairy body, scar-faced and clad in a straw cape that was fastened to a beetle’s shell armoring his left shoulder. Shimmering in iridescent hues of blue and green. The man did not smile as he glanced down at them. A silent challenge was edged in the hard lines of his rugged face.

Tense static filled the air, an almost tangible thing that bit at Gideons fingers. It wormed its way into his bones, crawled over his scalp.  

He almost, almost, flinched when Director Sahin shouldered past him, spear drawn and followed by the other man. Both planted themselves right in front of him and the others.

The intruder’s scar stretched with the rise of his eyebrows, eyes slitting in a lazy half-grin.

 “Hey, there. Hold your horses. Before someone does something he regrets later.”

“That a threat?” Ansgar grunted.

Moira ducked past him, face twisted in a furious scowl as she spit. “Oh, something other than entering our village on a damn wolf-spider you mean?!”

The corded muscle in her boney arm flexed as she shook her fist at the man, unveiling a wrath behind her primly dressed form that no one would have wanted to fall victim to.

He, however, just leaned closer, smile stretching into a shark-tooth grin. “Gutsy, are we? I like that.”

Director Sahim stepped up beside her, spear held in a steady grip. “How could you make it past our InD-Units with this monstrosity?! God show you mercy if you did something to-”

“What do you think I am?!” the intruder drawled, hands raised in mock offense. “A monster?! Only reason I got past your insect defenses was this baby here.”

Gideon had to stand on his tiptoes to catch a glance of the small round device that sat embedded into the spider’s head, partly hidden by the man’s straw cape. A little red light blinked in a steady rhythm above three buttons, which the man was careful not to touch as he rapped his knuckles against it. 

“Renders her absolutely obedient. All natural instinct turned off. See?”

He unsheathed a knife from a holster strapped around his leg and its steel blade shimmered in the sun before he rammed it in one of the spider’s eyes, plopping it out with a nauseating plitch. The spider endured its master’s violation in utter stillness, only its yaws twitched, creating this awful hiss in their never ceasing movement.

 “She’s docile as a lamb.”

“And how exactly is that supposed to work?” the girl inquired, meeting the man’s stare with a calculated cold composure. She ignored the incredulous look the blonde woman gave her, as she mouthed: “Charlotte, what are you doing?”

The intruder's mouth twitched.

“Man, what do I know, Missy?! I’m a mutant hunter not a scientist.” He leaned closer, eyes narrowed, fixed on the girl's deformed face. Venom spiked his words, dripped from his tongue like acid. “My expertise lies in chasing down freaks.”

The condescendingly cruel way in which he spoke, wielding words like a weapon meant to pierce and twist where it hurt most, reminded Gideon oddly of his father. Anger welled up in his chest, buzzed down his legs and made them move. He planted himself right between the girl and the intruder.

How dare he compare someone to mutant scum?!

“Tsk. Mutant hunter?! You’ve ever even seen one? Or are you just talk? Threatening girls?!”

“Gideon.”, Director Sahim hissed, squeezing Gideon’s shoulder in warning as he tried to pull him back. 

The man gave them a wry smile. “No no. Let’s hear him out. Have you ever seen one boy?”

“Yes.” Gideon spat, unable to reign his emotions back in. “They’re hideous monstrosities.  And I’m going to find and kill every single one of them.”

The man burst into violent laughter, shoulders shaking and head thrown back, nearly losing his balance under the force of it.

“You do have guts, I give you that. But also lots to learn. Do you really think a girl can’t be a mutant? Monster’s come in all shapes and sizes, boy.” His eyes wandered back to Charlotte.  “Just ugly, that’s the whole lot of them.`` 

The blonde woman gasped, searching for words to shoot back, but falling silent as she noticed Charlotte’s expression. 

Red blotches burned on her face, rage twisting it into a vicious scowl. The afternoon sun set her copper curls on fire. Ready to spew fury and flames, she opened her mouth but Sahar was faster, his small voice piping up.

“Char- Charlotte is… is no- no mutant and and and she’s neither ugly nor weak. And and and people who talk about, talk about killing others for no- no, no reason are… They’re the- the real monsters.”  

His fingers fiddled with his shorts, tapping and twisting in the dark, worn linen as he stumbled over his words. His big green eyes jumped from the rocky street to the spider’s fangs, lingered on the intruder’s face before landing on Gideon. They narrowed as he all but spat the last words in Gideon’s face.  

“The hell you just said?!” Gideon’s nostrils flared. How dare this little runt run his mouth about things he didn’t know shit about!

Crossing his arms, Sahar forced himself to hold his ground against Gideon’s furious, wide eyed stare.  “You you, you heard me.”

Gideon heart hammered in his throat, pumping liquefied fire through his veins. His hands twitched.

“I give you one chance to take. That. Back.”

The boy’s trembling fingers dug into his forearms, knuckles whitening as he lifted his chin.

 “Never.”

A roar tore from Gideon’s throat as he leapt forward. Rage burned through him like a wildfire, ready to ignite everything his fist would come in contact with.

Beating the selfritousnes out of that stupid stammering farmboy was the only thing that mattered now. Everything else blurred to background noise. Even the stranger on his shitty spider. 

In that frozen second between charge and impact, Sahar’s  feet moved. His body tilted to the side. Dodged Gideon’s blow. Effortlessly. He bounced back. Landed on the first stone step and uncrossed his arms. Ready to defend himself. His fingers had stopped twitching.

That little runt had nerves! 

Gideon broke into a sprint.

“You sure are good at dodging!” He swung his arm back. “Try to handle this!”

Muscles flexing Gideon readied for impact, only for his arm to be janked back. A  large hand had wrapped around his wrist. Stopped him mid punch.  Craning his neck, Gideon stared up into Ansgar’s stern face.

Fuck he’s fast?! 

“Looks like ya still got lots t’ learn about respect ‘n self-discipline, young man.”

Director Sahin sighed, eyes still locked on the intruder, who watched the spectacle with a lazy kind of interest.

Ansgar released Gideon’s hand and turned to Sahar. His grey eyes glistened like ice shards. “Same goes for you. Ya disappointed me, Sahar.”

Sahar blinked up at the man, eyes round and full of disbelief.

“Wh-what- what, what do you, do do do do- what do you  mean?”

“I haven’t trained ya to run off ‘n start mindless fights. I tried to teach ya discipline ‘n how to survive these woods.” Ansgar’s voice did not waver and every word made Sahar shrink into himself. His fingers tapped a hectic distorted rhythm over his leg

The intruder snickered, “someone’s a stuck up,” earning Moira’s venomous glare. 

“But- but I didn’t- he he he he he was, he was the one who-“

“Enough,” Ansgar thundered. “Don’t argue with me. If ya want a beatin’ so bad I’ll give ya one later. And now back t’ the farm. Ya grounded for the week. No fest. No nothin’!”

Sahar crumbled under the man’s anger, head ducked between his shoulders as the first teardrop fell. It trickled down his trembling jaw, painting a glistening path on his warm skin.

Voice reduced to a shaky exhale Sahar nodded,  “yes, sir.”, and stormed up the stairs.

He had just vanished between the thick bushes, when the intruder broke out into a new laughing fit.

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Science & Faith | Carlton Drake x Reader (4/?)

Words: 1860

A/N: I wish I could add links to this post, but I'm afraid of it not showing up in tags like it had done several times before. The masterlist for this story should be pinned on my blog and my full masterlist is in my bio.

Warning: This whole chapter is set in an AU until the end, which leads to the end of The Invisible River Part One.

-

The Invisible River Part Two

- Alternate Universe One -

At the end of the conference, Tony managed to find Carlton in the lobby. He turned and opened his mouth at the same time as Tony.

“No, you go first,” Tony insisted.

“Have you-”

“No, I go first,” he interrupted, ignoring Carlton’s glare, “Have you noticed that Rolling Pin and Doctopus aren't here?”

Carlton sighed, pushing his frustrations down to address the situation. “Yeah, they seemed to have left half way through the conference.”

“Honestly, why even bother coming if you’re just going to leave anyways? The beginning part is always pointless, who comes just for that?”

“Maybe he had an emergency,” Carlton suggested.

Tony cleared his throat, looking around to see if there were any more people lingering in the lobby before pulling Carlton on the side. He brought up his watch and projected a surveillance camera, showing Spider-man swinging towards a large building.

“Know which building that is?” Tony said, pointing at it, “That’s a laboratory built under Fisk’s name. What do you think Spandex-man is doing there?”

“Why are you coming to me with this? Aren’t you Iron-man?” Carlton asked, already on the move to leave.

Tony frowned at him, blocking his escape. “Dude, don’t you wanna check it out? Be a hero for once? I know that you were keeping tabs on ol’ Kingpin for a while.”

“I am far from being a hero, Stark,” Carlton said tiredly, pushing past him. Tony sighed, turning to fall into step with him.

“And yet, look at me. We don’t exactly fit the golden boy Captain America role, but it’s good intentions that count, right?”

“My so-called good intentions got my fiance killed, Stark. Look into it with your spider friend if you’re itching for action. I’m not looking for redemption.”

“And yet, you followed me to my car,” Tony said.

Carlton blinked, finding that he was unconsciously following Tony’s lead and was now standing next to his red shiny sports car. Tony pulled out his sunglasses and smirked, climbing in.

“Well, get in, loser, we’re going crime-stopping.”

On the way to Fisk’s labs, Tony contacted Spider-man about any updates on Fisk’s or Doctor Octavius’s movements. He confirmed that they were both in the labs for the past several hours. From the activities that he had observed, they seemed to be building a large machine deep within the labs with power sources leading underground.

“So, we’re just gonna go without backup?” Carlton asked in disbelief.

“No,” Tony scoffed, “We are the backup.”

Carlton sputtered, gesturing to himself. “And what am I supposed to do?”

Tony sighed, digging around the back of his car for a box, unceremoniously tossing a watch at Carlton. He caught it, inspecting it closely before putting it on.

“One button has a taser, the other a communicator. There’s also a little thing I added to check the cameras in the area, then there’s the iron-glove with the same functions of the ones on my suit. Oh, also, a flashlight. Can’t forget that. Plays music, too, if you want. You’re a fellow genius, Drake, you’ll figure it out.” Tony patted his back. “Watch, we’re going to be besties once this is all over.”

They waited until nightfall to start moving. Spider-man updated them on Fisk’s whereabouts, saying that his car was driving away from the building. They all met up and readily agreed that this didn’t have to be a big issue that reached the news. Secrecy wasn’t exactly Tony’s style, but he could take it seriously when he needed to.

Spider-man swiftly subdued the security guards on patrol while Tony hacked into the cameras. One guard had slipped away from his post to check on the others. Carlton quickly lifted his watch and pressed a button, hoping that it was a taser. Bright light blinded the man, making him shrink away. Carlton used this to press another button, successfully tasing him. Tony looked down at the guard and nodded over to Spider-man. He quickly lifted the man and placed him with the others that were wrapped in webbing.

“There’s an elevator near here that goes below ground level,” Tony whispered, “Or we could go through the warehouse. It’s currently empty.”

Tony waved a security guard’s keycard over the reader and Spider-man headed in first. The other two crouched in the corner and watched through the camera on the masked hero, hoping to find something. The way down to the labs below ground went smoothly and it made them feel uneasy. Each floor was brightly lit and suspiciously empty. As he reached the lowest floor, Spider-man paused in his tracks.

“Someone’s here,” he muttered.

Tony activated his iron glove and readied to go in, eyeing the camera through Carlton’s watch. Spider-man entered a narrow hallway leading towards a single metal door. His spider-senses were off the charts as he approached, turning the knob slowly. It was unlocked.

The camera suddenly blurred, followed by a loud smack. A woman in a lab coat, eyes covered by goggles, and four metal arms stretched out from her back, stood in front of him. She smirked, one arm reaching over out of the camera’s view, before pulling back and revealing Spider-man’s mask clutched in its metal claws.

“Ah, that’s a no-no,” he warned.

“Such a young man,” she cooed, an arm holding him yanking him away from the wall and slammed him into a large chair in the room. Metal clamps held his arms and legs in place, rendering him incapacitated as she casually dragged an office chair over. “I’m sure you’re curious about what we’re doing here.”

“It’d be nice if you told me,” Spider-man said.

“I’ve seen the technology you use, so I think you’d appreciate what I’m about to tell you,” she said, standing up and approaching the wide window facing a massive chamber, a large machine in the middle. “Oh, where are my manners? I'm Doctor Olivia Octavius. My friends call me Liv, but my enemies- ” Her metal arms wriggled about, one reaching over to Spider-man to touch his head “- They call me Doc Ock.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Spider-man.”

“Young man with manners. You see, Kingpin commissioned what I call a Super Collider.”

“A Super Collider?” His eyes drift towards the chamber, landing on the panel on the ceiling. Must be where the power source is. If he could just get to it… “And what does this Super Collider do?”

Tony tapped Carlton on the shoulder and they began to make their way down. Halfway down to the chamber, they started to hear footsteps. The guards were resuming their patrols. Carlton activated his iron glove, metal pieces extending from the watch to perfectly wrap around his hand, and the two scientists continued on with caution.

Doc Ock smirked at this question, turning back to her capture. “Since you came all this way, why don’t I show you what it does? It makes a magnificent light show. I’m sure you will love it.”

A few guards got in the way of Tony and Carlton’s descent, but they were swiftly taken care of and hidden. Just as they reached the narrow hallway that they saw through the camera, a booming whirring resounded from the room. They shared a panic look and rushed towards the door with their iron gloves ready.

They were met with the sight of a man that looked to be in his late twenties with ruffled brown hair wearing Spider-man’s suit. He looked to have been beaten around since that last time they had checked his camera. Tony shot a glare at the woman as her fingers fluttered over the control panel, unphased by their entrance.

“Curiosity killed the cat, fellas,” she commented as the roaring from the collider grew stronger. An atmospheric meter lowers down, a tiny light blinking.

“Stop the machine, Octopus!” Tony warned, aiming his iron glove at her.

“Or what?” She raised an eyebrow, making eye contact with him as her finger lowered towards a blinking button. “If you shoot, who knows what that will do to the machine. Could be interesting…”

A metal arm shot out before his glove could charge. He staggered back and shot out a beam, redirecting the arm and causing it to crash through the glass. She glared, whipping around to check on her machine while Tony rushed over to the revealed Spider-man.

“How you doin’, kid?” Tony whispered, releasing his limbs from the chair.

“Been better,” Peter grunted. “Is this a good time to tell you that my name’s Peter?”

“Why are you doing this?” Carlton demanded as an energy beam shot to the middle of the chamber.

“Carlton Drake,” she scoffed, turning to him, “Don’t you wish you had another chance to make things right? The choices we’re given are paths that lead to an endless possible points in our lives. Each path we choose to walk down opens up to new paths to choose from. Thus, creating- “

“Alternate realities,” Carlton finished.

Doc Ock nodded. “What if you had chosen to listen to your dear (Y/n)- “

“Don’t you dare bring them up! I made my choice and I’m living with it.”

“But what if you have access to that other choice. You can go to another reality where you’re living happily with (Y/n).”

Carlton’s eyes narrowed. “Is this why Fisk wanted you to build this?”

She shrugged. “Well, it’s something I’ve always wanted to tap into, but to have a desperate millionaire fund my little project is always a treat.” She flinched and a metal arm shot out towards the door where Tony was escaping with Peter. “You’re gonna miss the show.”

The air in the chamber began to warp, gradually forming into a portal. Doc Ock moved to give the machine more power before being intercepted by a spider web shooting out from Peter. Chaos erupted in the room, a blur of spider webs, energy beams, and metal arms flying around. The lights began to flicker, drawing their attention back to the machine that was almost at maximum power. Carlton attempted to disengage from the fight to stop the machine when one of Doc Ock’s arms swung out and knocked him out of the window.

“No!” Peter shouted, jumping to catch Carlton as he got sucked into the growing portal.

“You’re not going anywhere!” Doc Ock growled, another arm grabbing Peter and slamming him through the door.

Carlton felt the Collider pull him in. It wasn’t like a vacuum, but more like being swept away by an invisible river. He aimed his iron glove towards the ceiling panel to shut it down, then froze as he risked a glance into the portal. He saw a flash of your face, alive and happy.

Suddenly, the portal grew rapidly in an unstable manner and he could just see Doc Ock through the shatter glass with a gleeful grin on her face, a fist gripping onto a lever as she increased the power to its maximum capacity, lights flickering and surging around her. An energy beam from Tony’s iron glove shot out towards the panel before the portal swallowed Carlton completely, his body feeling as if swept away by an invisible river.

[feastofcadavers]

Surrounded in the overcoat that Aloe had given him, Mint's trembling hadn't subsided. Even as he was gently guided into the room Sandwich had told them to go into... The fear that the scene had instilled in him shook the poor violinist to his core. So much red... He felt the need to wretch even as the atmosphere became clean. Homely, even. Moving without seeing, lost in his terror-fueled haze, he was gently nudged into a chair and sat at a small table with Aloe kept behind him. Though he wasn't paying attention, he could feel the presence of the other behind him.

"I am sure you are startled, but..." Aloe settled a hand upon Mint's shoulder, attempting to find the right words. The musician laid his head against it, shivering against how cold it was compared to the heat of his panic. It was almost grounding in how much of a difference it was to his system... Almost. "Know this state you are in is not permanent, at least... The fear, that is." Ugh, the researcher wasn't meant for this type of comforting- or any kind for that matter. Though, if they were to think of what Co would do...

Should they? It could be invasive, cause something worse to occur, even spur on thoughts of the past they weren't entirely to trace back to. Then again, it was either this or have Mint get to the point of passing out or having his instincts go wild like them... And the very thought of Mint losing himself got the scientist to huff and close their compound eyes as they gently, and hesitantly, hugged the one that was so utterly shaken.

For the one who received it, the hug was... Something that he couldn't exactly register all too well. Despite how cold the taller happened to be, there was some quality that brought comfort that he hadn't felt in so, so long... Was it a touch that was meant to be something comforting? Secure? Safe? He didn't quite feel safe, but at least it was better than being left with nothing but himself and this coat to cling onto. "No harm will come to us here... So long as we remain calm..." The researcher murmured, voice just above a whisper. A moment, two, three passed before Aloe would remove themself from the other.

There was mainly silence that came over the room, save for Aloe's steps to sit across the quaint wooden table that the two would share. It seemed to be meant for two, as big as the room was. It was almost surreal... Such a warm place behind a gruesome coating of what was the cannibalistic nature the shop owner had. Having a moment of relative calm after such sudden and high amounts of panic were sure to leave some type of daze in the atmosphere...

...one that wouldn't be noted by the slamming open of the door and who else but Sandwich bursting through with her stacked plates of plate, sandwich, plate, sandwich, and Spinny upon her shoulder! Despite how solemn the both of them seemed- including the fear that Mint had due to the door opening so suddenly- Sammy grinned as she swiftly set the sandwiches down before the both of them. To the untrained eye, these sandwiches would look akin to normal meat and cheese sandwiches. Neither would dare ask where the cheese came from for this case.

Mint would silently pick up his sandwich, gaze settling on the white plate beneath it as he would eat the awful substance. His stomach growled quietly with his first bite as if it was reminded of what is required. He was oblivious to his own body's reactions at this point, mind staring sightlessly at the plate that showed his reflection. It was so similar to what it used to be, but the bags under his eyes were more than prominent. Huh... And here he thought he had gotten a good night's sleep. Oh well. At least he can eat in thoughtlessness.

"I certainly hope you two enjoy your meals! If you need, I can get some water for the both of you, too!" Sandwich's whole body tilted to the side as if she was curious about the response she would receive. Though Mint was lost in his head, Aloe quietly nodded as they took their food in one hand. As prim and proper as they are, their eating habits were... Less than that. At least they wouldn't speak with their mouth full. "That would be appreciated. Though before you do so-" Ah, they had caught the slicer before she went out the door. Too eager to serve, wasn't she? "I... I have a few questions about you and that doll of yours..."

"Doll? This is no plushie or anything of the sort! This is Spinny!"

"Right... I have a question about Spinny."

"Go on, then! Anything for a dear cursed customer!"

There was a gentle huff as Aloe would contemplate how to phrase such a question without offending the other party. She seemed in such denial that someone dear to her was gone. Though they couldn't help but admit that in the same situation, they wouldn't consider that someone to be 'gone', either. "So, I assume that something horrid had happened to Spinny, yes? Did it happen to be fatal?"

Sandwich's face twisted into something that had never been seen from her before. Was it disgust? Fear? Something along those lines... But it was quickly shrugged off for that ever-chipper smile and voice pitched for joyousness. "Well, kind of! She was a tasty snack that I was planning on planting for the sake of, ahaha, getting away with things! But this lovely lady offered to help me out of my despair! And repair Spinny into something she could live through again! And all it took was a small part of her and some sweet memories! Truffle is such a sweet lady, I tell ya!" That... most certainly caught the many-eyed scientist's attention. "And she was brought back to life? In this new d-... In this new, cloth-covered form?"

"Mhm!! Spinny is practically as good as new!" The server gently picked up the doll from her shoulder, holding her out in front of Aloe. They could see the little thing squirm, which was followed by Sammy laughing giddily and bringing her back to the shoulder of comfort. "She's super shy, but when alone with me, she acts just as she did before she became a little wacky snacky!" The prospect gave Aloe a glimmer of hope, eyes widening for a moment before they realized that there was likely more than meets the eye. Let the excitement die down before letting disappointment and despair consume them again... Though perhaps there could be some consideration, right?

Aloe let themself take a bite of their sandwich, body feeling a wave of relief over finally being fed properly, before swallowing and following up on the conversation. "So, if you happened to have such an encounter, would you happen to know her location?"

"Oh, of course! In fact, I visit her often! If you'd like to see her, you can even do something for me in exchange!"

"That seems entirely fair... What would that happen to entail, though? I would never accept a deal without knowing both ends of the offer." ...or if they happened to be in a state of desperation, accompanied by a 'this is the only way' mentality. They were lucky not to have such at this very moment, and that the deal would be as calm as it is. "All I ask is that you deliver something for me! I run a special sandwich over to her every other day or so as thanks, so! When you two head out, I'll give you instructions on some slip and a bag full of sandwiches for her!"

"Just a delivery, hmm? Understood. We will accept your offer... It is not as if we have any other means to spend the rest of our time today... Ah, what was the woman's name again?"

"Truffle! The widow! Though- ahaha- don't call her a widow directly unless you call her a spider! She loves those!"

"How fitting for someone sympathetic of us..." Spiders and mosquitos... The relationship between the two of them was glossed over by the researcher as their mind wandered to something far more hopeful. Obliviously faithful, one could say. Such as one could be for someone near and dear... Such as they would be for them... "I accept your offer. Now, ah, you are free to grab us water. Pardon for holding you up."

"No biggie, no biggie! Just enjoy your sammies!! I will be back! Incredibly soon! Faster than juice through a kid's silly straw!!"

[iron-fam]

Dinner with the Avengers

A prompt that was an ask from @just-the-daydreamer

Tumblr screwed up (more like I screwed up but I'm blaming tumblr) and deleted their ask. I kinda remember what it was though lmao. Anyways, thank you for the prompt and for the nice compliments to my writing!

Prompt: Peter meeting all of the Avengers and Tony having big dad energy.

_________________________________

Focus. Just- fucking focus.

Don't be dumb.

Don't be cringey.

Don't talk too much.

Don't ask any stupid questions.

Don't be yourself.

"No one wants that."

Peter Parker is currently in an elevator with Happy Hogan, freaking the fuck out.

He's on his way to have a nice lovely dinner at Avengers Tower.

It sounds so easy when you say it like that. Peter's had dinner with Tony, Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey at the tower plenty of times.

This time's different.

The whole Avengers team is having dinner at the tower tonight. Everyone. This will be the first time the entire gang has been together since before the whole Sokovia Accords bullshit.

Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes, Thor, Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson, Colonel Rhodes, and even Vision and Scott Lang are attending.

Weeks ago, Tony and Peter agreed that it was fine to reveal his identity to the Avengers.

But now the day was finally here, and Peter couldn't seem to breathe.

Happy sighs, "Relax," he sounds irritated, but he tries to offer some sound advice. "Don't worry about anything. These are the weirdest freaks you'll ever meet in your life. You're gonna fit right in."

He gives Peter's shoulder a light punch. Peter would almost appreciate the gesture if his heart wasn't trying to crawl it's way up his throat.

The elevator dings, indicating that the destination has been reached.

The doors slide open, and Peter is greeted by two smiling faces.

"There he is!" Tony bellows, a bright grin on his face. "Just the man I was talking about."

He claps Peter on the shoulder as he exits the elevator.

Next to Tony, stands a plain looking man with glasses and a lilac button up shirt.

"You're, uh," Peter swallows. "Bruce Banner, right?"

The scientist smiles. "Sure am. Tony said you'd recognize me."

"W-well yeah," Peter shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at the floor. "I did a couple papers a few years back. They were, uh, heavily influenced by your work in astronuclear physics. Really interesting stuff."

"Wow, that's pretty c-"

The genius is cut off by a thunderous laugh erupting from an approaching figure.

"Stark! Is this the Spiderman you've been speaking of?" The man asks.

Peter is in awe. He focuses on keeping his mouth closed and not looking like a total idiot.

"Sure is, Thor! This here's our newest Avenger." Tony gently punches Pete's shoulder, similar to how Happy had done in the elevator.

"How magnificent!" The god stares Peter down, judging him. "He's quite small, is he not? For a human?" The warm smile never leaves his face.

"He's only sixteen," Tony chuckles.

"And taller than you, Mr. Stark," Peter mumbles under his breath. Bruce smiles.

Tony's head snaps to Peter, "What was that, pipsqueak?" Thor breaks into another thunderous cackle. "Go sit down, squirt. Most of the others are already in the dining room. I'll be in in just a minute."

Peter is anxious to go in without Tony, but he doesn't protest. As he walks, he is aware of Thor's heavy footsteps not far behind him, matching up with the heavy pound of the boy's heartbeat.

Peter can already hear each distinct voice in the dining room around the corner. He can hear drinks being poured, voices laughing, hearts beating, and even a fly buzzing close to the ceiling.

The moment Peter turns the corner to the dining area, silence washes over the room. Eleven pairs of eyes are staring at him, and he feels like fainting.

Pepper stands up from her seat next to Natasha. "Hello, Peter!" Her smile is so warm and genuine, it could melt the arctic. "Everyone's been wanting to meet you. Here, have a seat."

She gestures to an empty seat on the other side of her.

Peter happily strides over, relieved to be dining next to someone he knows and is comfortable around. Now he can only hope that Tony sits in the empty seat on his other side.

Natasha leans forward, staring at the teenager with cold eyes. "Hello, Peter." She doesn't smile.

"Hello," Peter's voice quivers slightly.

To Peter's relief, Tony interrupts. "Don't scare him, he's very fragile." The billionaire winks discreetly at Pete and leisurely strolls to the empty chair next to him. Oh, thank God!

"Fragile?" Clint scoffs. "I heard that kid can throw a schoolbus like a baseball."

"Impressive," Wanda Maximoff breathes, her face hidden by a mug of coffee.

Scott Lang laughs, "That's nothing! I can lift a car while being an inch tall!"

Nat rolls her eyes, "Like hell you can."

"You can barely move a thumbtack, tic-tac." Sam Wilson retorts.

"That was some straight bars, birdbrain!" Scott barks.

"Shut up, Lang."

Tony has to intervene before things get to crazy. "Let's be nice, there are young ears present."

"Since when did you become his dad?" Clint smirks. Peter's can feel his face heating up. God, I never should have come. This is so embarrassing.

Steve is ready to change the subject, and he speaks to Peter for the first time since Germany.

"So, Peter. How long have you been 'Spiderman?' I've read a lot about you in the papers. New York seems to appreciate having you around."

"Who still reads 'the papers?'" Clint mutters under his breath, laughing. Wanda elbows him.

Peter is suddenly aware of all the eyes on him; all the ears awaiting his answer to Steve's question.

"Um," he pauses for a while. "I, uh, got my powers when I was thirteen. I didn't start using them to help people until a few months later when I was fourteen. That was about two years ago."

Wanda tilts her head to the side. Her intrigued gaze sears into the boy. Peter can feel his blood running cold. He is abruptly struck with a paranoid thought- can she read my mind?

The curiosity in Wanda's eyes doesn't waver. She asks him, "How did you get your powers?"

Peter breaks eye contact with Wanda, timidly leaning back into his chair.

"I was bitten by a radioactive spider. It mutated my DNA, and I developed traits that a spider would have."

"Fascinating," Bruce whispers, bewildered.

"Can you lay eggs?" Scott asks, mouth hanging wide open. "Can you summon an army of spiders? Can you turn into a spider?"

"No, no, and no." Peter answers.

"Lame,"

Tony glares at Scott. If looks could kill, then Lang would be nothing but a pile of ash.

"I'm kidding," Scott quickly takes back his comment. "I've seen you throw webs though. That's pretty cool."

"Not as cool as you growing sixty feet tall." Peter replies, gaining a small drop of confidence.

"Ha! I keep forgetting you were there in Germany."

"Y'know, I try to forget Germany, too." Peter says.

"Don't we all," Rhodey mumbles through a bite of food.

Steve's eyes are stuck on a fixed point on his plate. "I can't believe I dropped ten tons of steel on a fifteen year old."

Peter laughs. "Don't be, it was a good workout. And actually, I was fourteen."

A small wave of laughter washes over the group, and Peter feels proud for a moment or two. Like he belongs.

"What the hell were you thinking, Stark..." Bucky quietly says. It's the first thing he's said all evening. Peter had almost forgotten he was there. "You brought a fourteen year old kid to Berlin."

Tony cringes, "I know, I know. Not my best move."

Pepper puts her hand on Tony's shoulder. "Yes, well it definitely wasn't your worst move either."

Bruce nearly chokes on his food, thinking about Ultron.

The group collectively gasps and then laughs.

After a few peaceful moments, Tony rises to his feet. He picks up his champagne glass.

"Well, I propose a toast. To our newest Avenger."

Everyone picks up their glasses, and raises them.

"Uh, Mr. Stark." Peter smiles. "I didn't get any champagne."

That gets a few chuckles.

"Yeah," Tony nods. "I tried, squirt, but Pepper said it would be irresponsible." He rolls his eyes and gestures to the blonde.

Pepper doesn't protest. She simply sips her champagne and mumbles "Yes, it would be irresponsible."

"Welcome to the team, Peter." Natasha says, the corners of her mouth slightly turning up.

"Welcome to the team," the others mutter in unison.

Tony claps his hand down on Peter' shoulder, almost showing him off like a proud dad.

Peter smiles.

These people aren't half bad.

[starker-stories]

The Cold, Chapter 5 - The Messages Series

This chapter on AO3

By @thestarkerisobvious​ and @starker-stories​​

New chapters in the series post every Thursday.

All links are to AO3. You don’t need to be a creator to have an AO3 account. You can have one solely as a reader. But to read anything at all in this series, you can just be an anonymous reader and/or commenter.

The best way to keep up with The Cold is to subscribe to the story on AO3. And the best way to keep up with the Messages Series is also to subscribe to it as well as the individual stories. That way you’ll know when the next book is added. 

Tags: Tony Stark Feels, Peter Parker Feels, College Student Peter Parker, Established Relationship, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Tony Stark Still Has Arc Reactor, Arc Reactor Kink, Peter Parker is a Mess, Spider-Man powers, Communication, They Finally Communicate!, And Fuck Of Course Look at Who It’s Written By Of Course They Fuck, Avengers Compound

The entire Messages Series.  All links are to AO3.

Messages Unsent  (complete & posted)

Nothing More Than A Machine  (complete & posted)

Tomorrow  (complete & posted)

My Virgin (Revisited)  (completely & posted)

The Cold  (completely written) posts every Thursday  

Untitled Book 6  ( in progress )

Untitled Book 7  ( in progress )

Chapter 5:   Breaking In The Bed

They ignored the entire rest of the building, ordered Chinese, and ate dinner in Tony’s suite. After, Tony noticed that Peter still seemed to have something on his mind that wasn’t quite making it out of there. Their first walk had led the boy to opening up so Tony suggested another one out in the night air, away from the light pollution of the city where the sky was just filthy with stars.

They discussed the plans for the next day. What measurements of his abilities Peter thought he needed. What tests Tony thought might get him those results. And both of them making mental lists of what physical exams to ask about, what Doctor Cho might think Peter needed.

When they walked back into the building, Sam was sitting in the common room with some sort of paperwork spread out on the dining table in front of him. Tony completely ignored him, as he always did. Let the guy send whatever it was to Stark Industries, let the accountants deal with it, Tony had zero interest in the whole venture anymore. Cap used to call him out for ‘lording it’ over him because of who paid the bills. He had no idea how easy he had it compared to his successor. Any pretense Tony had of the Avengers being a team that he was a part of, was gone. He was the lord of this goddamn manor and he answered to no one in it.

New-Cap glared at them both, but mostly at Tony. Probably something to do with said paperwork. Peter noted it all with detached curiosity. The weighty conversation he had meticulously planned was finally over, and Tony was still holding his hand. He felt as if a building-sized weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Peter had asked him for a tour of the compound. It had been years since being there and even then, he saw very little of it.

“Things are boring here.” Tony let his voice drop, quiet. “The quote-unquote common room is just that… common. Nat’s… the office has the holographic conferencing that Stark made. More boring. You’ve worked on more complex equipment with FRIDAY.

“Through there, though…” Tony nodded at what looked like a wall but was actually doors. “That’s where the quantum tunnel I built is. Though it’s much more complicated than the name implies. Nothing at all like Pym’s device. His sent you hurtling off to god knows where. What’s back there is a precision piece of equipment to work with the Time GPS and…” Tony broke off his explanation. While he was immensely proud of the science behind it, the end result was…

Tony was the lord of the manor — a haunted manor.

“The labs we were talking about on our way here are more interesting,” he said, turning his back to the massive doors. “We’ll see them tomorrow when you visit Dr. Cho,” Tony said. “While I have had a finger in a lot of the pie here, it hasn’t been actively for a long while. Not getting back to it either. When SHIELD is up and running again, I plan on letting Fury handle the entire thing, including funding this shitshow.”

Sam left him alone instead of endlessly haranguing him. The glare was tolerable and expected. Barnes was nowhere to be seen, neither was Scarlet CarPark. And best of all, Fury and his minion squad weren’t onsite yet. Tony knew that Dr. Cho and Dr. Selvig and whoever else had set up camp in the mostly unused labs would be there. Scientists were a predictable and obsessive lot. Free, fully equipped, lab space and a nearly unlimited budget? Where else would they be?

Once he and Peter left the common area and headed down the hall to the suites, Tony had escaped. When the door shut behind him, he felt the world’s weight slip away. Tony settled his hands on Peter’s waist and the kid rested his head on his shoulder.

“Sanctuary, baby,” Tony whispered against Peter’s hair, taking in the boy’s familiar, soothing scent. “We can leave the problems out there, yours and mine. Here it’s just the two of us. He ran his hands up over Peter’s back and he felt him relax.

“We don’t have to have sex,” Tony said, softly.

He could go either way, but the day had been an emotional one for Peter. After an emotional week for them both. He wanted the kid to know that, while their sex life was amazing, and one of the things that probably kept them together during the rough patch, Tony didn’t want it to seem like an obligation. The ‘escort’ accusation still guiltily stung a little. He’d never meant to make his love feel that way.

Peter, however, looked horrified.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he all but gasped, then dissolved into giggles at the sound of his own voice. He threw his arms around Tony, hiding his face to cover his embarrassment, pressing his whole body against Tony’s to make his point.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I mean… I just… I kinda need you tonight, Tony.”

“Time to break in the bed?” Tony said with a smile.

Peter started a little, looking at Tony in alarm.

Tony undressed, leaving only his boxers, then he climbed onto the bed. “C’mere baby,” he said, rolling onto his side, holding his lower arm out waiting for Peter, who had only taken off his shoes and socks, to nestle into it.

“I want you in bed with me,” Tony said with a little smile as Peter stood awkwardly, looking uncertain. “Let me see that body you wanted to show me…”

Peter smiled, feeling relief (and maybe a little pride) and came close to the edge of the bed. Looking Tony in the eye he took the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it, slowly, over his head. And if he stretched his arms, flexing his biceps just a bit, was he really to blame?

Tony gave Peter a long, slow look up and down his rather amazing torso. The kid’s abs were a thing of dreams. The first time he saw Peter without his shirt made him seriously question his morality.

“Yep. Still beautiful. Still Peter.” The look gained heat. “Still mine.”

Peter fell into Tony’s arms and pulled him close, shamelessly diving his head into his favorite place in Tony’s neck, hiding there and holding his lover in a crushing embrace. It had been a very long day, it had been a very long week, and suddenly Peter felt like he hadn’t actually slept since the night Tony returned from Australia.

But he was still alarmed at the idea that he was going to “break the bed.”

“You… know… nothing’s changed, right? I’m as strong today as I was last night and the night before… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you… I brought you here because I needed you to know it wasn’t all in my head…”

“Baby, whatever we find out this is…” Tony ran his hand flatly down the front of Peter’s body. At the waistband of his jeans, his fingers twisted the button free and pulled down the zipper, but went no further.

“Whatever you’re afraid might be going on in here…” He ran his fingers up into Peter’s wind-ruffled hair and brought him in for a slow kiss. “I am still going to be exactly where I am right now. Holding you close. Wanting you. In love with you.”

“Oh god Tony…” Peter murmured, then sighed in frustration as he realized he was doing it again. Listening to the incredible things Tony was saying and responding with the same three words. But there was no helping it.

But as Tony had said, words meant nothing compared to deeds. And so Peter did.

Kissing Tony back Peter took Tony’s hand and boldly put it exactly where he wanted it. Then he put both hands on his lover’s face and, still kissing deeply, lay back and gave himself over.

Tony cupped the rise of Peter’s cock, still clothed in his jeans and underwear. He kneaded gently over the boy’s still-soft bulge, rubbing and caressing the shape of it, moaning into Peter’s kiss. The kid could still take him apart with just a kiss. It confused him, but he recognized, and admitted, his need to be desired as well as to be desirous.

He curled his arm up behind Peter’s neck, fingers tangling in his soft hair, as they kissed, one chasing after the other. His other hand went from caressing over the soft, worn denim, to find its way into the waistbands there. Touching his swelling cock, trying to wrap his fingers around the shaft. He stopped and gave the side of Peter’s jeans a little downward tug.

“Too many clothes,” he murmured against the kid’s lips.

Peter immediately obeyed and soon jeans and underwear were on the floor.

Tony’s hand closed around what he’d been seeking. He slid his leg between Peter’s, moving the lower one closer to him, the upper one a little further away. When the boy was fully hard, his hand sought the warmth between his legs. His fingers found their way behind Peter’s balls to massage between them and his opening, but stopped with that gentle touch.

Peter obediently parted his legs for Tony’s hand, moaning in appreciation, slipping his leg higher over Tony’s thigh, giving him more access. He longed to take Tony’s hand and move it inside him, god he needed this badly, but he kept his hands combed through Tony’s hair and let himself be touched.

Tony gave a little moan and slowly, wantingly, his hips writhed against Peter. “Oh yes,” he said at Peter’s boldness.

He took Peter’s leg higher and raised it the rest of the way until it draped over his waist… and Tony didn’t want to lose this. Both of them tangled up in each other. Instinctively, he reached for the far pillow — which on this smaller bed was a lot closer — and he found… nothing. Damn. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually slept in this bed. And if he did, it most definitely was alone. Of course the lube wasn’t where it should be. But he knew that, even sleeping here alone, he had some in the nightstand drawer.

He kept them in the exact same position and tried to reach it. Too far away. He grinned at Peter as he pushed his leg back down but clung more tightly to his chest. He rolled toward the nightstand, still holding Peter, rolling him back on top.

“I’ve never slept with anyone in here before.” He gave a little shrug as he rolled them further, putting Peter on the opposite side to him. “Never fucked anyone here,” he added, dropping the euphemism. Dammit he still wasn’t within reach. He mentally cursed his fondness for overly large beds. Tony laughed as he rolled once again, putting Peter beneath him. He held his weight up though and this time, he opened the drawer and got what he was looking for.

Peter began giggling, breathless and silent.

“On the way back, baby,” Tony said, joining his own giggle with Peter’s. It was an absurd situation and about as far away as his typical smooth, suave magical appearing lube trick as you could get. Quickly, he rolled them back to their original position. He sighed when he got there. Tony brushed his hand lightly through the kid’s hair. He kissed his forehead with a quick, light kiss. “We get to christen a new bed that’s never been fucked in.” A little groan escaped him. “It’s only gonna be yours. Ours.”

“Oh, that’s what you meant by ‘breaking it in… I thought you… I thought you were afraid I was going to break the… oh god.” Peter couldn’t really speak anymore. He was too busy smiling. He was the first person Tony had sex with on this bed? As he wrapped his legs around Tony's waist he felt like laughing for joy.

[occasionalfics]

worth my while // p. 2

main masterlist | thor masterlist | ko-fi | p. 1 | p. 3

Summary: After being banished from his home, Thor Odinson has stopped at nothing to prove himself worthy of his throne, title, and power.

After losing the love of your life, you turned to a power you didn’t understand.You know you shouldn’t get involved.

But how could you not?

Pairing: Thor x Reader (Hercules au…kind of…)

A/N: Me: *uses the same gif two chapters in a row*

also me: *sees a new pretty one* OOH YES LET’S CHANGE THINGS UP A BIT

Aaaaand here I go, stealing whole ideas straight outta Hercules. Oops ;) Let me know what y’all think, as usual 💖💖💖

Warnings: Violence, lots of angst, borderline abuse and definite manipulation, eventual smut, way too many feels, major character death (eventually). A little more harassment on Hades’ part this time around.

Words: 3,641

“You do understand how powerful Von Doom is, don’t you?” Hades asks the next day.

Just like you had at Captain America, you roll your eyes. “Listen, it’s not my fault, okay?” You watch as he paces the room, and think about the night before. “The Avengers showed up to bust the place for...God only knows what. Captain America gave me an ultimatum, I couldn’t refuse, so I walked out.”

Hades sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Babe,” he says, using the nickname you absolutely hate, “our hostile takeover isn’t proving to be very...ya know, hostile.” When he looks at you, you can see the flames behind his navy irises.

You’re in trouble.

You sit back against the couch and cross your arms. “We can use this,” you offer. You try not to imagine the lighting-laced eyes of the other Avenger as you go over your exact process from the night before. “You want to take out the Avengers. The Avengers attack Victor Von Doom, who you want to help take out the Avengers. Now he has a personal reason to do it.”

Hades pauses. He faces you, fingers on his chin as he scratches his stubble. And he stares long enough that you know you’re not totally off the hook - Hades isn’t known for his patience, after all - but he’s at least considering what you’ve said.

Then he chuckles once and shakes his head. “Oh, you sweet summer child,” he mutters, giving off gruff and insulting sounds as his brows raise. “You’ve got so much to learn. But you’re not wrong - we can use this.”

Just as Cerberus - one of them, anyway - comes marching into the room, straight to your lap, Hades picks up a remote from the table that serves as the only thing separating your bodies. He turns around and powers up the mounted television, and just like magic, there’s a news segment on discussing an upcoming Avengers celebration.

Celebration? You think. They destroy everything they touch. What are we supposed to be celebrating, exactly?

You’re one of those who had once sided with the U.N. and Tony Stark. You didn’t care for the billionaire - after working for Hades, you more or less hated every billionaire - but you did think that the so-called heroes needed to be held accountable for the destruction they left wherever they went.

This party, though, seems to be a celebration of the fifth anniversary of the Battle in Manhattan, which seems...so ridiculous to you. Why would you - or anyone - want to celebrate that? So what if six people saved the world from imminent danger? They’d still nearly let millions of people die or be injured in their messy attempt to kick alien ass.

Also, wasn’t the man behind that plan that Thunder Guy’s cousin or something?

More personally, however, the drunk driver that had killed Rick was drunk because his wife had perished in that battle. He’d been drunk every night since her funeral. The jury had taken his grief into account when they sentenced him to prison, giving him a light sentence instead of life behind bars.

You’re so busy letting your cold heart grow colder that you miss the point of the segment. Stark is interviewed, but you don’t listen. You almost know what’s going to happen anyway, so why bother giving it your attention now?

Hades waits until the segment ends, then puts the television on mute. He turns to you, puts the remote down, and actually comes around to sit on the table.

You lean even further back against the couch. Hades never gets this close unless he’s got a mission for you. Cerberus watches you both, head lifted from your lap as he whines.

A second Cerberus pads into the room, sitting politely on the floor between you.

“Sending me to that thing isn’t gonna get us Von Doom,” you tell Hades. You’ve gotten quite good at reading him since he’d cashed in his price for Rick’s life. You had to - the only other alternative was to let the formidable Lord of the Dead control your every move. Which he kind of did anyway, but at least you could keep up with him this way.

He shrugs, like that’s part of his plan. “Maybe not. But we can stir up some trouble.” His smirk is undeniably mischievous. But you know that’s the only way he operates.

You stare at him like a frustrated parent might at an indignant child. “And what good will that do us?”

Us you think, like I have any say in the matter. Like he’ll actually listen to me.

“If we can scatter them, cause a real scene at their own event, we might be able to attract more than just Von Doom. Better than Von Doom.” Hades nods at his own assumption, but you don’t like where this is going. Not one bit.

“Like who?” you counter. Von Doom is another billionaire. He has money, technology, and apparently, superhuman abilities of his own.

“Norman Osborn,” he replies without hesitation. “Otto Octavius. Wilson Fisk. The list goes on.”

You don’t even know who the last guy is. Still, you groan. “Osborn is an actual goblin, and Octavius is just a scientist. Plus, they can’t even handle themselves against that Spider-kid. You think they’ll be a match for the Avengers?”

You know you’re right, but either Hades doesn’t care or has deluded himself beyond the point of return.

Or, you dare think, that he can see beyond what you can. He is immortal, after all. He has to be right at least some of the time, you figure.

Maybe he sees this as a calculated risk he’s willing to take for the endgame.

Hades stands and starts to leave the room. He only stops to tell you, “United we stand…”

--

The event is really lovely, actually. Central Park is full of festivities from one corner to the next. There’s no way to do all of this in a day, you think, but as you watch people actually enjoy their existences again, you know no one cares.

So you stop caring about that, too.

You hear, about midday, that the Avengers will make an appearance in Sheep Meadow at some point later, so you decide to stick around that area for the day.

There are food vendors everywhere. All kinds of different food, too. Smells and sounds rule over the lawn, and for once, New York doesn’t feel like a death sentence. It feels like a place where people live - real people, civilians that have normal, superhero-free lives. It’s not really a place where aliens fall out of portals in the sky and threaten the status quo.

But sometime around 3, the Avengers show up, and suddenly New York is that place. Lightning Guy is living proof of that.

Your eyes find him just as easily as if you actually knew his name. You remember hearing...something about him, a few years back. Before the Manhattan attack.

He’d shown up somewhere West, claiming to be a Space Prince while he paraded around after an astrophysicist and her little team. Something had attacked there, too, but he’d defeated it. He had to, otherwise, he wouldn’t be standing across the lawn from you with his dangerous friends surrounding him.

Why he hadn’t gone home then, you couldn’t say. But he’s still here, on Earth, causing more and more damage to buildings and people and a way of life he only just acquainted himself with.

Tony Stark signs autographs. You only notice because you force yourself to stop looking at Lightning Guy. You watch Captain America, now without his stupid winged helmet, pose for a Charlie’s Angels picture with two women he probably doesn’t know. But they fawn over him once the picture is taken, and you roll your eyes.

Falcon and...the other birdman stand off behind the more well-known members of the team. You decide to go in for them, first.

“Some crowd,” you say as you sidle up next to Falcon.

He smiles down at you - a playful look, clearly intrigued by your approach - and nods. The other birdman doesn’t seem to care much, which works just as well for you.

“One of the bigger ones, believe it or not,” Falcon says to you, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“And yet, you’re unattended to,” you say, attempting polite banter like you know Hades is expecting out of you. “‘S a shame. You’re one of my favorites.”

To be fair, he kind of is. He wasn’t around for the Battle of Manhattan. He did help take out that government facility in D.C. a while back, but you’d heard it’d been infiltrated by Nazis. So, for that, you forgive him.

Generally, he’s one of the lesser-known, newer members of the team. He seems much more approachable, much more amenable. And when he asks, his smirk growing by the second, “Oh, am I, now?” you can’t help but laugh a little at his enthusiasm.

It’s genuine laughter you’re feeling, for the first time since...everything. You know it because your stomach already hurts from just this little muscle contraction. The feeling is foreign and that is...somehow unfair.

But you manage to nod. “Those other guys are overstated,” you say with a shrug. “I like the ones that feel more like...us, you know?”

And he nods, too. “I do,” he says, and you believe him. You appreciate the gap in between his front teeth - it’s kind of adorable, truthfully - as he holds his hand out to you. “Sam Wilson.”

You place your hand in his, and he lifts it to his lips to place a chaste kiss on your knuckles. He’s quite the charmer.

“(Y/N),” you say back, forgoing the your surname because, really, does an Avenger need to know that? Even if he is one of the only ones you like? “And thank you for your service.” You’d read somewhere that he used to be in some branch of the military, so you let him take the compliment however he wants.

“‘Course,” he says. And then, after a beat, “I hope you’re enjoying such a lovely day.”

You know Hades would say to lay it on thick, here, to distract at least some part of the team. You try not to be too thick as you respond, “It’s much better now.”

But, of course, that’s when another person joins your group. You might be okay if it was just another fan asking Sam for an autograph or a picture or something, but no. You don’t have that kind of luck.

Lightning Guy steps up, clad in a plain shirt beneath an open plaid button-down and a pair of light jeans. Sans-armor, the guy is still huge and still looks like he’d be an absolute boulder in a fight. Formidable - that’s the best word you can come up with.

But there is something...a little more personable about his smile. You don’t let yourself fall for it, but you at least acknowledge it.

“Ah, (Y/N),” Sam says, “you know Thor, of course.”

Right you think. He’s the Norse God. You used to think he just borrowed the name, but then you’d seen an interview on the Today show one morning where he’d confirmed that he and the legend are one and the same. Now you remember.

“We’ve met, haven’t we?” Thor says, giving you a curious glance.

You wonder if you should tell him. You don’t really blame him for not recognizing you immediately - you’d only met the once, only for a few minutes, and under very different circumstances. You are now sans golden dress, sans glowing skin, and sans uncomfortable sandals.

But he is unforgettable. For more than one reason, more than just the fact that he’s an Avenger and a Space Prince.

It’s those eyes. Lightning Eyes, to match his power.

Working with Hades for so long has left the impression that you can tell a lot about people by their eyes. And Thor’s are...a dreamy, warm shade of blue that reminds of you storms.

“We have,” is all you say. You think giving too much away right now might cause problems down the line, and you have a distraction to be the cause of.

He holds his hand out, just like Sam did. You shake it, but he doesn’t kiss your knuckles like Sam did. His kind of charm is different - not showy in the same way, but still a little over the top. Everything about him is over the top, though.

Thor sizes you up as you pull your hand back. You ignore the pang of something that crawls up your fingers, passes your elbow, and stings your shoulder at the lack of contact.

“Oh, you have?” Sam asks, his smirk turning cocky as he raises a brow and turns to Thor.

It takes him a moment, but he must find something remarkably memorable in your face. His eyes widen and he almost takes a step closer before stopping himself. Then his brows drop and his expression turns colder, clouds filling his blue eyes with gray.

“You were the woman with Doom the other night,” he says.

Sam turns back to you, the glee on his face slowly fading. He was there that night - you saw him, briefly, on your way out, but he hadn’t thought to look in your direction then.

“I was.” You cross your arms and lean back a bit. “And I’ve been wondering why you and your friends burst in on my business.” You say it seriously, but not without tipping your head a little flirtatiously. You’re not angry - just curious, and, again, a distraction.

Briefly, you wonder when Hades is gonna put whatever his plan is into action.

“Saving the city, as we do,” Thor answers. He’s still a little put off, but now he’s just as coy as you are. You ignore the fact that you kind of like going toe-to-toe with someone that looks as intimidating as he does. “We were wondering what a lady, such as yourself, was doing with him.”

“I’m sure you were,” you say.

And now neither of you have given anything away. You almost know what the Avengers were called in for - it’s not like Victor Von Doom is known for being a safe man. But you’ve been trying to figure out exactly what was going on at that party that would require Captain America’s presence.

You’ve almost forgotten Sam is still beside you. Sam Wilson, Falcon, an actual hero and celebrity, and you’ve more or less pushed his existence into the back of your mind.

That is, until he clears his throat and steps between you and Thor, muttering, “I’m gonna let y’all have your moment I guess,” before moving on to stand with the rest of the team.

Thor won’t take his eyes off you, and you won’t take yours off him. You can feel your chest and neck heat up, but you don’t do anything to signify it’s happening to Thor. He can’t know. You won’t even admit to yourself that he’s the cause of the flush.

“You could’ve been hurt,” he says, unaffected. Not like someone that would actually care if you had been hurt, but just as a matter of fact.

You shrug. “I wasn’t. Like I said, I knew what I was doing.”

You can see in his eyes that he doesn’t believe you. They never do you think. But that’s why you’ve sworn off men.

Well, that and the whole Rick situation. But now’s not the time to dig that mess out of its grave.

Thor gives you a not-at-all-inconspicuous once-over, but his eyes settle on yours again. That’s new you think.

“You’re not quite like many Midgardian women I’ve met, I must admit.”

You lean on one hip, absolutely hating that kind of line. But because he’s still looking you in the eyes, and because you’re now too enthralled in this tête-à-tête, you let him explain himself.

One more thought for you to ignore: you’re breaking every single rule you’ve given yourself over the last few years in regards to attractive men.

“Most are far more forthcoming.”

At that, you laugh. Not because Thor’s wrong, but because he’s probably right. You can’t speak for everyone, but you know you’ve become a secretive, manipulative person. It’s not like you’ve had much of a choice, post-Rick’s Resurrection.

“Good for them,” you respond.

Something in his face changes - his expression flattens into confusion, but it doesn’t seem to be pointed at you anymore. It’s like he can hear something far off, that he knows something isn’t right.

You know it, too. And, truth be told, you’re glad Hades is finally barging in.

But just like your body craved Thor’s touch after he shook your hand, you need him to look at you again. The second his lightning eyes are focused on the shaking ground, on the direction from which the vibrations are coming from, you want to pull him back to you. Not as a distraction, but for you.

Instead, he lifts an arm and holds his palm outstretched, as if he’s waiting for something. The sky darkens, and the distant vibrations get closer as screams are heard from blocks away.

A blast of air shoots past you, cut off only when Thor’s meaty fist wraps around the handle of a large, heavy-looking hammer. It’s edges are slanted and the markings look Scandinavian if you have to guess.

A flash of lightning, and Thor is no longer in civilian clothes. Scaled armor shines down his arms. His chest is covered in a dark chestplate that match dark pants that do nothing to hide the curves of his calves. Not that you’re looking or anything. A long red cape billows as the wind picks up around the park and the skies fill with heavy, burdened clouds.

You don’t even have time to move. Thor is off, flying through the air toward whatever Monster Hades has conjured. You don’t want to see the fight - not really - but you can’t force yourself to turn away.

Sam shoots you a look as you stand, stoic and observant, but ultimately chooses his team over some weird chick he only met moments ago.

People all around you are running. A huge purple beast peaks through the park, shaking everything in its wake that it does not automatically destroy. It’s claws are as long as your body, it’s teeth as sharp as broken glass. It yells in a terrible, metallic noise that rings in your ears.

The Avengers go after it. Most of them do, anyway. War Machine, to your surprise, stays on the ground and helps corral people away. Black Widow does, too, especially when she gets a look at War Machine falling behind.

You take in the running, the screaming, the looks of utter terror. For a second only, you let yourself feel guilt.

Because in the next second, you back up. You turn around and walk right into a black suit with a silk navy pocket square sticking out of the blazer. Your thoughts automatically shut off as Hades put his arm around your shoulders, despite you having told him time and time again how much you hate him touching you.

He steps lightly but quickly, zooming past the crowd, around screaming people that you have to block out. You need to.

Hades lives for the Dead. He loves the sound of screaming humans. Loves the idea of disaster, because disaster almost always means more bodies to fill up his dark, twisted world.

But you are not a God of the Underworld. You are not a being of the Underworld at all - not in theory or practice. Even if the God of the Underworld owns your soul, even if he’s tethered you to his kingdom, you are still a human, and you cannot live with yourself if you idly watch people die, knowing it’s your fault.

You’re just about to head into another section of the park when Hades stops. He looks over his shoulder as you try to regain your footing - transporting via God isn’t always the easiest thing to put a human body through.

A crash of thunder. A roar louder than the rest - much more easily recognizable as a person, rather than a monster. Raindrops pelt at you, slowly but heavily.

Then, silence.

It lasts a beat before the murmuring. You turn around, too, and realize that Thor is no longer around. Every human being has stopped moving - even the purple Monster has stopped moving, though it looks much more satisfied than anyone else around you.

A woman screams. A child cries. Hades chuckles.

His favorite kind of soul is the immortal kind. You still have trouble grappling with that idea.

Lightning breaks out across the sky. The storm is suddenly furious, the wind coming so fast it could knock you down if you weren’t being held up by Hades.

And then the lightning springs from inside the Monster. Its yelling is cut off, as is its elongated neck from its head.

You step away from Hades to get a better look.

Thor stands on the decapitated corpse, hammer raised, innards hanging off of his limbs and armor. Even from your distance, you can see he’s breathing is labored.

The crowd cheers. You take another step forward, unable to help the smile that comes over you. There’s a warmth in your chest that you can only deny because you’re wearing a jacket over your t-shirt.

But before you can rush over to the Avengers, before you can celebrate with the other humans around you, Hades catches up to you. His hot hand rests on your shoulder, and just as quickly, he brings you back to the Underworld.

[fatandnerdy30]

The Itsy Bitsy Spider 14

I do apologize for the somewhat boring chapter, but we've gotta have some dialect, right? Haha. 

 But, I will tell you, I have a lot already written, with hopefully plenty more to come! I just want to say a big thank you to all the readers and commenters, and everyone who voted or favorited this crazy dip into my fluff filled mind! Until next time, everyone!

A flying ant buzzed by a guard's ear and he swatted it away. The man on the ant swung a little in the saddle, but managed to hold on. "Hope, watch the guard, he's got a sissy swing," he joked.

"Not that I don't appreciate your humor, but please focus on the mission," Hope said, mirth in her voice anyway.

Scott smiled as he straightened the ant he was riding. He flew as high as he could to to keep out of the way of the agents, all carrying guns. This was going to be hard. He heard shouting ahead of him and turned Antonia to the door it was coming from. Landing his mount on the florescent light above two people, he laid on his stomach and peeked over the edge. Below him the lab was a mess, there were beakers broken, with a rainbow of different colored liquids spilled all over the floor.

"What do you mean you refuse!?" a man screamed, German accent thick in his anger. "Do you forget who has your family!?"

Scott gasped. "Hope, they have Sean's family."

"I know. Mom's on it as we speak."

"Thanks for telling me!" he whisper shouted.

"Well, we didn't have time, and why are you whispering?"

"I don't know!" Scott huffed. "Women, am I right?" he asked Antonia, who cocked her head. "Sorry."

The men were now in a stare down, the red head standing his ground. "I am not hurting another child!" The man spoke with a Scottish brogue, which added to his presence. "You killed all those kids in the lab because you were scared of the Avengers. And you have every right to be!"

The German man pulled out a phone. Why did he look so familiar to Scott? "You know all I have to do is make a phone call and your family is as good as dead!"

"And you will lose everything I have made." Sean threatened and pulled out a handheld tablet. "Every file in the system on my work is on this tablet. You call, I press delete." His finger hovered above the screen, eyes challenging the now angry German man.

"Then all I have to do," he pulled out a gun, and Scott cursed. "Is kill you."

"Hope! Bloom's gonna kill the doc!" That was his name! Octavion Bloom! What a stupid name for a guy.

"Stop him!" Hope's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Scott nodded and jumped off the light and pressed the button on his right hand. He grew to his normal size and kicked the gun from the German man's hand, then shrunk back down, running along the floor. He saw a shadow above him and looked to see a giant boot coming down on top of him. "Oh no!" he cried, then pressed his right hand again and shot up, kicking the man, then grabbing Sean. "We've gotta get outta here!"

"Pym?" the doctor asked, shock in his voice and all over his face.

"Oh," Scott let the helmet flip away from his face. "I'm Scott Lang..I'm Ant-Man," he said proudly. "But, you didn't want to know that. Um, I work with Hank Pym?"

At that name, relief lit in the man's eyes."So he is still alive."

"Yeah, but I think this would be better discussed elsewhere." Scott tried to drag the man out, but he resisted.

"My family! I can't go! They have my wife and daughters!"

"They're okay," Scott said with a smile. "Janet, Hank's wife, probably has them in her care right now." Sean sighed, but then his eyes went wide and stared down at the spot beginning to grow on his stomach.

Scott watched it happen almost as if he were small and everything was going in slow motion. The blood on the man's lab coat, spreading almost like thick fruit punch, the look on the man's face; pain and shock. Lang didn't know what happened, until Sean fell to his knees and there stood Bloom, holding a bloody knife, a sick smile on his face.

"Hope," Scott said, shock lacing his voice. "We have a problem."

The woman then appeared next to him, staring in shock. "Dr. O'Cleary," she whispered, catching the man as he fell. "I'm Hank's daughter, Hope."

Scott had attacked the other man the moment she arrived and had punched him, knocking him out.

"Hope," the man breathed, his chest rattling. "That was the name.....your father loved. . Tell me...Is at least one of the children from the lab alive?" He needed at least one survivor to not feel like a failure.

Hope nodded. "Yes. A boy named Peter. He's alive and safe."

Sean smiled, tears in his eyes. "Good. He didn't deserve any of this. No one did or does...." He then brought the tablet up and before she could say anything, pushed the button to erase his files.

The woman grabbed the blinking tablet and tried to undo the damage, but it was too late. "No, no!" she looked at Sean. "Why? We could have saved Peter, fixed him!"

Sean shook his head and coughed. "Don't want your father's work in anyone's hands." The Dr. smiled as he took his last breath, lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling.

"Damnit!" she shouted. They'd failed in so many ways. She felt like the fate of that boy was weighing on her shoulders and it got so much heavier.

Scott was by her side in an instant, a hand on her shoulder and felt a little of the weight coming off by his presence. She wasn't alone in this.

"Come on, Hope....let's get out of here, it's getting too dangerous to stay." The sound of an alarm was blaring all around them with lights flashing. Already he could hear boots hitting against the metal floor, getting louder.

The woman nodded and got up, leaving the man on the floor, but took the tablet, placing a reducing disk on it and shrinking down, then pressing the remote to shrink the tablet down as well. If anything, they would have the remnants of Dr. O'Cleary's work, and hopefully if her parent's couldn't get the files back, Tony Stark would cooperate with them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter was getting so bored sitting in his room all day alone. He did have Morgan to talk to, but she was at a friend's house right now. So, at the moment he was sitting up on a pillow with a makeshift pencil Mr. Stark had brought in for him. The man had come in with a Cheshire grin holding a long piece of lead like you would find in a mechanical pencil wrapped with a piece of plastic that made it look almost like a pen to Peter.

The boy was grateful to hold the tool, to feel its almost familiar form in his grasp. But, the note book the man had brought was HUGE! He'd brought him the largest notebook he could find as a joke, but the funny thing was, Peter loved it. The lines on the paper were as tall as he was, so it made it a little harder for bigger people to read.

The boy was busy with his newest chemistry formula when there was a knock on his door and Dr. Banner's head poked in. "Hello there, Peter." The man walked into the room, greeting the boy with a big smile, shaking his head when he saw the notebook being used again. "Came to check on my favorite patient."

Peter laughed. "I'm your only patient." Dr. Banner had been coming multiple times a day the past three days, and Peter had gotten more comfortable with the scientist, which is what he suspected the man wanted.

"Very true. Well, I came to do a final check up. If you're all clear, you can get out of bed." Bruce chuckled at the look on the boy's face as he leaned over the bed, offering his hand. "Same as yesterday." When the boy climbed onto his hand, the doctor reached into his pocket to bring out his magnifying lens. "Any pain or stiffness anywhere?" he asked as he looked at the boy's ankle.

"Nope."

"Good. Move it up and down. Very good. Now, left to right. Now in a circular motion clockwise and counterclockwise." The boy did everything with no pain and easy, fluid motions. The scientist in him was geeking out. It only took the boy three days to fully heal, and his ankle had been severely damaged, practically crushed under the piece of asphalt. It was remarkable. He moved Peter to the nightstand, setting his hand down. "Okay, so how are you walking?"

Peter stepped off the palm and walked around the nightstand without a limp or showing pain whatsoever. "So am I cleared?"

Banner chuckled and nodded. "You have the all clear."

The boy whooped for joy, almost loosing his washcloth toga he was given since the Thor costume he was wearing got destroyed. He remembered Tony giving him something Morgan had given him.

"I have a gift from Morgan. She made it originally, but Pepper sewed it. Tony gave it to me since I see you the most at the moment." He reached into his jeans pocket and brought out the suit the girl had made from the boy's old uniform. Bruce was sure it looked better than it did with the duct tape, but the stitches were pretty visible.

Peter smiled and took the offered clothing, staring at it like it was made of gold. "I'm gonna go change," he finally said, his voice cracking. The fact that Morgan had made him something he could wear, well that meant it was special to him. Once he was in his little 'bathroom', he looked the new suit over. The chest, stomach and the top of his arms were red, while the rest of the suit was blue.

The girl had given it legs instead of the dress like style it originally was, and somehow had taken the Hydra symbol off the back of it. "I wonder if she still has that symbol," he wondered, having an idea for it.

Peter put it on and even noticed there was a small button in the back of the neck that he was able to close by himself. He would have to thank Pepper for doing that for him. When he was finished, he wished he'd had a mirror to look the back over, but, he stepped out, arms held out. "What do you think?" Apparently Morgan had the same eye for detail as her father as it fit him perfectly.

"Oh, very stylish," Mr. Stark's voice came from behind the doctor. "Hey you two. Came to tell you dinner's ready." He walked into the room and smirked down at the boy. "What did the good doctor say?" he asked Bruce.

"I gave him the all clear."

"That's great! Now you can move about, scurry along and whatever it is you do. Bruce and I will meet you in the kitchen." He patted the doctor on the shoulder, smirking at the delighted look on the boy's face. He left the room, and a second later, Bruce followed him.

"Are you insane? He could get hurt!"

"He won't get hurt. I'll just tell everyone they have to be careful where they walk from now until the kid's fixed. If Morgan can do it, so can they. Speaking of Mighty Mouse, anything new?"

Bruce shook his head. "Not yet. That Sean guy is a genius. He was actually able to hide the genetic makeup of the serum so well, that even looking at the serum, if that's what they used, you can't tell what it's made of because one chemical takes over the entire chemical compound and I can't see past it. I even had Friday run diagnostics and she couldn't break down the chemicals. I have no clue how he did it, but I want to meet this man."

They walked out into the kitchen where the group was seated at the large table. "Why does everyone gather on my floor?" Tony complained with a smirk.

"You have the best food," Clint said around a bite of stew, making the others laugh.

"Is Peter with you?" Wanda asked, her eyes looking them up and down.

"Yeah, he'll be along in a minute," Tony said sitting down. "I told him that from now on he'd be able to travel by himself."

A bunch of tableware hit plates. "What?" Steve asked, getting to his feet, gaze roaming the floor. "Are you insane?"

"No. The kid proved himself during the battle. He kept Morgan safe. So, from now on, you'll have to watch where you step if you want to keep gathering here."

Sam clicked his spoon against his bowl as he looked up. "I was wondering about that! How did he pull Morgan up? At his size, it should be impossible!"

Bruce nodded. "Yes, it should be. But, that may be another ability coming through. We'll have to do some tests. Or it could be when he was...well, shrunk, his mass was affected, giving him stronger muscles. We won't know until he's back to normal."

"So, that kid could basically be Steve but with the ability to crawl up walls?" Natasha made a face. "Just what we need."

Tony shrugged. "So, we'll train him, starting now. Starting with the tests. It's that easy." He sipped from his bowl, which was brought over by his wife.

"Just be careful with him," Pepper warned. "He may be enhanced, but he's still only three inches tall." The team nodded.

"So no throwing dump trucks at the kid," Rhodey joked. "Got it."

@sparrowrider @letsbeinspiredby @carttorchdeatth @6inchicon @ixlovexirondad

[that-shamrock-vibe]

Movie Review: Spider-Man Far From Home (Spoilers)

Spoiler Warning: I am posting this review the weekend after the movie’s release in the U.K, so if you haven’t yet seen the movie do not read on until you do because there are some rather juicy spoilers here.

MCU Ad Campaign:

This is why I feel Kevin Feige needs to have full control over Spider-Man because he is a master of teasing us with enough in the trailers to get us excited for the movie.

Even with Avengers: Endgame which kept so much secret in the trailers built up that hype and anticipation, okay yes it was the culmination of 11 years of movies and the second part of what was one of the greatest cinematic cliffhangers in history, but even so there were so many theories and speculation about what could happen that it obviously helped with that juggernaut release.

But the issue with Spider-Man: Far From Home is the trailers and promotion just made the movie seem like your average superhero flick. It was necessarily the case of The Amazing Spider-Man 2 or Suicide Squad where so much was shown in the trailer that wasn’t in the final movie, but there wasn’t enough to speculate on or build up the hype unless you’re already a comic-book fan and want to see another Spider-Man movie and know that in the comics Mysterio is a villain so want to see what happens with him here.

I’d say the introduction of the multiverse may have been what both Feige and Pascal thought could be a key plot point to draw in the hype, but that was proven just to be a facade. It was only really mentioned in that scene that everyone has seen in the trailers and there was never a time in the trailers where I thought “Yes that is what everyone will talk about”.

With Thor: Ragnarok for example, it was penned as a fun 80s style buddy movie and that is what the trailers showed, but then you add in Hela and that shot of her destroying Mjolnir as well as the “He’s a friend from work” scene and that’s what made it one of the most watched trailers of all time.

I said in my non-spoiler review that I fear for this movie’s performance if we are to base mainstream audience interest on watching the trailers, I still feel that even though the two times I have now seen the movie the theatres have been relatively full.

Characters:

Spider-Man:

As I said in my non-spoiler, Tom Holland continues to prove why he was such a perfect casting choice for Peter Parker/Spider-Man. Not only does he still look like a teenager so you believe he should still be at school, he has so much charisma and charm that you can’t not like the guy.

I loved when he was at Aunt May’s support centre and was, as May said, a little stiff but it was believable.

Let’s face it, this is a guy who is still a teenager, he is still dealing with the average student problems like fancying a girl and possibly getting good grades, although at Midtown it’s a wonder any of them can get good grades with those teachers, we’ll get to them. But also Peter is dealing with the added stress not only of being Spider-Man but the aftershock of what happened in Endgame both in terms of “The Blip” and Tony’s death.

It was interesting to me that they were kind of going down the Iron Man 3 route of Peter having PTSD from “The Blip” but that quickly turned simply into either guilt or grief over Tony’s sacrifice and the responsibility everyone is now putting on his shoulders. With great power comes great responsibility, that saying is echoed throughout this movie in particular.

I also really like the Spidey suits in the movie, because there were so many it was like a Spidey fashion show at one point.

I loved the fact he kept the Iron Spider suit and especially seeing it pixelating in that container was really cool. Also the upgraded suit he was given which is a mainstay of the character at this point.

Then there’s the return of the original Spidey sweatsuit during one of Mysterio’s illusions which was a nice little nod and a reference to the Emperor’s New Clothes with who the world has built him up to be compared to how he feels on the inside.

Also, his new red and black suit that he created in the Stark Industries jet was a fantastic sequence. Not only was it crystal clear that they were trying to make Peter resemble Tony in that scene, but it was done so effortlessly and it was really fun once again to see someone play with the Holo chamber.

But in terms of my negatives, because I do have negatives for all these characters, I cannot believe he was that stupid that he gave away EDITH to Mysterio, not because Mysterio was an obvious bad guy because he wasn’t, but because EDITH was such a useful device and Peter apparently doesn’t have KAREN anymore so he needs some form of AI assistant.

I did however really enjoy the onscreen partnership of Jake Gyllenhaal and Tom Holland, you can tell off-screen the two really got on and it resonates on screen.

There was also a really stupid moment when he’s facing Hydro-Man and he wears that mask to try concealing his identity from his classmates, despite the fact that he is wearing the same clothes his classmates know he is wearing so why didn’t anyone attempt to put 2 + 2 together. I mean it’s implied MJ may have but who knows.

With the Elementals as well, as much as I think they are brilliant antagonists visually, and of course in this instance weren’t real but may still exist, I don’t see how Spider-Man can combat any of them because his synthetic webbing would have no effect on water, fire, sand or air. It was obviously Mysterio’s perfect plan to make himself the hero, but the fact no one thought to question that Spider-Man was less use than Black Widow would have been in that fight really bugged me.

I did like him trying to court MJ, I thought his six-step plan was well thought out and the rivalry between him and Brad over MJ was also refreshing to see in a superhero movie.

We’ll talk about the post-credits scene further down but that ending scene before the credits of him doing Spidey’s traditional scout of the city was a great way to end the movie. The main reason I love playing the Spider-Man games is simply to swing through the city and will gladly spend a lot of time doing it just to explore. Also if that’s not the Oscorp building he swung through than it’s the biggest misdirect in a Marvel movie.

Mysterio:

By far my favourite Jake Gyllenhaal role, I have never been a massive fan of his as he and his sister have simply been actors I gloss over. But Mysterio was a very comical villain for me in terms of looks yet Gyllenhaal manages to make the suit and the fishbowl look awesome.

I loved how he was so committed to his role as a parallel world superhero, you honestly believed he was a good guy right up until the moment when the illusion fades.

Speaking of illusions, these are potentially the best use of visual effects I have seen since Doctor Strange. I haven’t seen the movie in 3D but I was almost tempted to the second time just to experience the splender of how the visuals looked. They were literally effects ripped from the comics, everything came together and it was magic.

When he was revealed as a villain and that epic reveal scene of his and his crews master plan, including throwbacks to Captain America: Civil War and the first Iron Man was jaw-dropping. I really appreciate both Feige and  Peter Billingsley who was the actor playing the former Stark Industries scientist turned Beck’s henchman for making it seem like this was the plan overall all those years back. I doubt very much that Feige planned it from Civil War let alone 2008.

However, the ending for Mysterio is where my negatives come in. Not only did Beck turn into a raging child running out of ideas but also the fact they killed him off is something I really can’t get my head around. Vulture, Shocker and Scorpion are all alive and if they want to build a Sinister Six then surely this Mysterio is a likeable candidate, yet now he’s dead. It just reminds me of the likes of Hela and these one-movie villains with so much more potential.

Nick Fury:

I love Samuel L. Jackson, I know I sang his praises during Captain Marvel but he’s just as great here.

I loved the running theme of Peter ghosting him by sending him to voicemail, then eventually when Fury and Peter do meet and there’s the constant interruptions of staff and students that makes him turn and say “If one more person touches that door you and I will be attending another funeral” it was so great and only could be said by Nick Fury.

However, and I’ll get into the reasons more in my post-credits discussion, but with the reveal at the end that the Fury we have seen throughout the movie is in fact Talos the Skrull, there are tells throughout the movie that indicate that which I can’t tell as to if they’re deliberate or accidental.

For instance, during Spider-Man’s first meeting with Mysterio, Fury says “He’s from Earth, just not yours” so why didn’t he say “ours”? Also when he said that appearances can be deceiving I bet that was also a tell that he was the shapeshifting alien.

For that reason, it is hard for me to say that I enjoyed Fury in this movie because the real Nick Fury is only in one small scene at the end of the movie. But Samuel L. Jackson still delivers. Also “bitch please you’ve been to space!” never gets old.

MJ:

Commiserations to Zendaya for not getting Ariel, but at least now she is the girlfriend of Spider-Man so yay. 

I really love Zendaya in this role, I think she brings a much needed grounded modern realism to the role that I feel is needed for the younger female audience of today.

I loved it when she revealed that she always knew Peter was Spider-Man but when he eventually confirmed it she said “Really, because I was only 67% sure”. They really played up the character’s awkwardness and vulnerabilities in this movie which explain why she is such an outcast and how she just seemed to float on by in the first movie.

My one negative is where the character goes now, I think that scene after she found out Peter was Spider-Man was definitely her weakest because she just seemed like a very mopey love interest. But then she’ll have kick-ass scenes like knocking out a drone with a mace.

The ending with her swinging around with Peter was already shown in set photos but it was hilarious to see the final thing, I loved how she kept saying she wouldn’t look down and then kept looking down. Then when they landed and her hair had seemingly grown in weight was very funny.

Happy Hogan:

I am so happy for Jan Favreau being a mainstay in the MCU, you would think that after RDJ left that his entourage would also leave. However, now that Happy is seemingly Spider-Man’s support staff it gives him more reason to be around.

I will say this though, everything you see of Happy in the trailers you pretty much see in the movie itself, with some extended scenes. There are a couple more funnier scenes added in but other than that you’ve seen pretty much everything he does in the movie.

As I said, I loved the recurring gag of “ghosting” Nick Fury, it was interesting in the first instance because I swear up until now Happy and Fury have not actually met before, but now Tony is dead I guess they have some association with each other.

His relationship with Aunt May in the movie was a very sweet and understated coupling in the movie. I actually do see the two of them together and it would be great going forward if they remained in a relationship just to give them both something to do other than support Peter Parker.

It was such a great moment when Peter started designing his suit on the plane and Happy was watching in awe. He saw what the audience was meant to see which was Peter acting like Tony Stark.

I have also enjoyed his progression from Tony’s bodyguard to Spider-Man’s right-hand man. Not only did he come and save Peter from the Netherlands, but also he saved Peter’s school friends and put himself in danger in the process.

I really hope Happy continues to be a part of the MCU, even if it is in the Spider-Man movies but also branching out elsewhere.

Brad:

Hudson from Neighbours is in this movie. For anyone that doesn’t know what I’m on about there was a minor-recurring character a few years ago who was a gay competitive swimmer who became romantically involved with a main character at the time but also got into trouble with the police, this was him and I am so glad to see him still working.

I am unsure if the character was part of the first movie, but I am happy to see him here as he was a great example of how The Blip affected Midtown High.

He did present himself as a bit of a douche but also he did start off simply as a decent guy, it was just that he let his competitiveness for wanting to be with MJ and screwing over Peter get the better of him.

This did cause problems for me as the movie progressed, not only did he become the whistle blower that no one listened to and simply came across as a bitter individual, but also there was never really any resolve to his story after the outburst of questioning why Peter was always disappearing.

Aunt May:

Marisa Tomei continues to be a great and innovative Aunt May. I’m still unsure about having a younger and somewhat hotter Aunt rather than the sweet old lady we are used to but I still say Sally Field in The Amazing Spider-Man movies was my favourite of the bunch.

I am really happy that she set up her charitable rehoming shelter as she has done in the comics and the latest Spider-Man game. Her delivery of when she “blipped back” into existence and the new tenants of her apartment thought she was a ghost or a mistress was hilarious.

I do think May was a bit harsh to Happy, I don’t think she led him on but she clearly invited him to her office and you don’t do that if there’s not something there more than just a summer fling.

I am a fan of the fact that May now knows of Peter being Spider-Man and supporting him in his endeavours, as well as using him to boost support for her homeless campaign.

Maria Hill:

Much like Fury, it is hard to say how well Maria did in this movie because she spent the entire movie as a Skrull. However in terms of Cobie Smulders performance, I am glad she got more screen time than she has done recently.

Although she didn’t have many lines, she had a lot to do action wise. I loved in the climactic battle when she went to the roof with that bazooka because both she and Fury had anticipated Mysterio’s drone being sent to assassinate the two.

Ned:

If I found Ned annoying in Spider-Man: Homecoming, I found him unbearable in this one. Not only are the negative qualities of him from the first movie back in force here, but that added story of Ned and Betty getting into a relationship was simply pointless and made Ned even more unlikeable if possible.

First of all, I don’t care how he defends himself, Ned got a girlfriend and then blew Peter off despite not only being adamant in wanting the two guys to be American bachelors in Europe but also in supposedly being Spider-Man’s “guy in the chair”.

Also, Brad’s jealousy over Peter was understandable and actually good for the movie, Ned being jealous of MJ after she found out about Peter being Spider-Man was just pathetic. Not only because that is the point when he actually tries to help Spider-Man but also because MJ didn’t really need him, no one did.

Teachers:

With the teachers in the movie, I will say I miss Selenis Leyva as physics teacher Monica Warren from the first movie. Not only because her being Latina fit in rather well with the Queens neighbourhood, but also because it was some gender diversity in the ranks.

Here we have the Caucasian Harrington and Mr. Dell who I believe was created for the movie after J.B. Smoove was involved in the Audi commercial with Tom Holland to promote the first movie.

I do agree with Dell about there being no science on the science field trip and this is also why I’d prefer Monica Warren to be there over Harrington, Harrington is a crap teacher. Not only did he not plan ahead with the trip but also his incompetence nearly got a bus-load of students killed. Bearing in mind he was also the teacher responsible during the Washington incident.

Students:

Aside from the students already mentioned, the other students involved in the movie are Betty Brandt, Flash Thompson and Jason Ionello. I thought on the whole the students of Midtown High still continue to be a great and modernly accurate portrayal of Queens in the present day, but also they proved themselves necessary to the movie rather than just clutter in the way.

Post-Credits:

Alright so we have two very juicy post-credits scenes that not only shape the next Spider-Man movie but also the future of the MCU.

The first scene picks up directly where the movie ended and has Peter return MJ to the ground before taking off for some superheroism. However he is then stopped by a breaking news bulletin which was set up by Mysterio and delivered by William Ginter Riva showing a doctored version of events in the climactic battle where apparently Spider-Man was the one orchestrating the drone strike and Mysterio was the hero who Spider-Man killed.

The bulletin then cut to none other than J. Jonah Jameson, returning to the live-action Spider-Man movies portrayed by the one and only J.K. Simmons. My audience cheered at this point because not only is it about time Jameson returned to the movies but to have J.K. reprise the role he is probably most notable for is a delight.

Although here, the Daily Bugle seems to be an online media outlet rather than a newspaper company but for the modern day it works rather well.

However, believing that Peter will one day get a job at the Daily Bugle seems very slim with the reveal that Mysterio identified Spider-Man as Peter Parker, meaning the world now knows Spider-Man’s identity. I want to see the fallout now.

The end-credits scene shows Fury and Hill in a car before shapeshifting into Talos and his wife Soren from Captain Marvel. Talos reports to the real Nick Fury who is in front of the most fake green-screen imaginable as it is revealed he is actually on some form of space-station crewed by Skrulls.

This could be a myriad of things, but my favourite theory is that this is the start of S.W.O.R.D. to become Fury’s new organization after S.H.I.E.L.D.

Overall I rate the movie an 8/10, I’m not going to say it’s a perfect movie but it is a brilliant movie and definitely the movie needed to follow up after Avengers: Endgame.

So that’s my review of Spider-Man: Far From Home, what did you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Marvel Movie Reviews as well as other Movie Reviews and posts.

[fruitful-blogger]

BITES of Spider Life! (Chapter 2)

Inspired by the BEAUTIFUL Sanders Sides/Spiderverse AU by @ask-spiderverse-virgil and @sugarglider9603!

Summary:

When you’re bitten by a genetically-altered and probably radioactive spider, things in life tend to get a little complicated. Follow Virgil Storm, Roman Marigold, Logan Quinn, Patton Foster, and a whole slew of other spider-people and spider-related people as they deal with life, love, and the occasional robot army trying to take over New York.

Just another Tuesday for our teenage Spiderlings.

(Fluff and Slices of Life!)

Read from the beginning (Ao3)

Chapter 2: It’s a Playdate (Ao3)

           “So you brought us with not to go to the ACTUAL meeting but to hang out with the other kids?” Virgil, as Spidergale, threw to Thomas, currently dressed as Rainbow Weaver. In fact, all of them where in their Spider gear as they swung onto the landing jutting out from Stark Towers, otherwise known as New York’s Avengers’ headquarters. “What is this? A playdate?”

           “Look SHIELD has some news, and you know I’ll give you guys the rundown on what’s important after. Mostly it’s just us getting nagged about property damage.” Thomas threw as he waved his hand.

           “I’m SO SORRY about that building last week!” Love Bite, aka Patton, threw, his lenses cocked as he looked so sad. Really, their masks were good with expressions.

           “Love Bite, you were THROWN INTO A BUILDING!” Arachne, aka Logan, threw. “They do NOT blame you for that!”

           “And if they did, they’d have to talk to these fists first!” Royal Slinger, the last of their quartet of Spiderlings, threw in an ever so Roman way.

           “And you sent a card to the building manager. They probably get it and have insurance for that.” Thomas assured as he rubbed Patton’s head, mushing his cap ever so slightly. “Now, yes, unfortunately some of the higher ups are a bit prickly about kids and meetings. Some of the other protégés occasionally come, and, as much as I love and appreciate you guys, I think you need more friends than just each other.”

           “I mean, maybe Logan and Virgil…” Roman trailed off before his boyfriend swatted him. “HEY! It’s true!”

           “ANYWAY!” Thomas cut in once more, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Just… don’t blow anything up. If there’s an emergency, the building is hooked up with an AI known as JARVIS. Our normal communications won’t work in the tower, but he’s been told to interrupt the meeting should something go awry.”

           Logan’s extra arms came out to hold out a small device. “Would you at least endeavor to record it? I feel like I can pick out things better from a first-hand reading.”

           “Sorry, kid, but that won’t work in here.” The Spiders turned as Tony Stark stepped out onto the veranda, band shirt and blazer perfectly matching his glasses that likely cost more than Thomas’ rent. “My tech will auto nuke it on entry, but if your nice, I might be swayed to share my personal logs.”

           “Isn’t that not allowed?” Patton questioned.

           A voice snorted behind Tony. It was now that the five noticed a second figure on the roof. The person, as opposed to Tony, was no older than his late teens, early twenties, with brown hair and clothes that would be more normally worn on one of the spiderlings in their alter egos – he wore washed out jeans, a Columbia t-shirt, and a plain navy hoodie, a Stark pad in one arm as a keycard was clipped to his side. “Tony hacked the system a while ago. JARVIS stores a copy on a local drive that only Tony and I can get a hold of.” The kid stepped forward and waved. “Oh, yeah, hi, I’m Peter.”

           Tony threw an arm around the kid. “Spider runts, meet Underoos – he’s one of the best scientists I got in this place. Give him a few years, and he might be as smart as me.”

           Peter blushed at the praise. “Aw, Mister Stark-”

           “Seriously, kid? I’ve known you for years. It’s TO-NY.” Tony turned to Thomas. “You remember the kid, right?”

           “Yeah, you gave me a bunch of vines to watch last time.” Thomas chuckled. “Still haven’t gotten through them all yet.”

           Peter nodded sagely. “Well, I’m the designated ‘person under 25’ today, so I’m gonna be taking you guys around the tower. Squirrel Girl and Ms. Marvel are already here, but I think most of the others are out on team missions or whatever.” Peter shrugged. “I’ll get the brief later.”

           “You have access to those systems?” Logan approached.

           “Eh… ‘Access’ is a relative term.” Peter waved his hands. “Now, ‘hacking,’ hacking is a better descriptor.”

           “I taught him well.” Tony said, ignoring Patton’s chide at how hacking wasn’t right. “Now, Weaver, we got a meeting to be fashionably late to. You know how old eyepatch gets.”

           “Yeah, yeah.” Thomas waved before turning to his kids. “Now, be good and listen to Peter. This should be a couple of hours, and, PLEASE, don’t blow anything up.”

           “No promises, boss man.” Virgil gave a salute.

           Thomas sighed as he followed Tony. With their enhanced hearing, the boys definitely heard Thomas muttering to the other man about ‘kids these days’ and ‘I love my boys but I want to strangle them’ and other normal terms of love.

           “So I kind of already know which of you is which.” Peter said as he pulled out four keycards from his pocket. “You guys are going to need these.”

           “Oh? Will they allow us entry into the building?” Logan questioned as he took one.

           Peter snorted. “JARVIS’ face recognition software is better than any keycard. We mostly use these as a bait and switch in case anyone tries to steal our stuff. Don’t tell anyone that, though. These cards just basically get you free snacks at the vending machines.”

           “SHOULD you be telling us this?” Virgil questioned, eye quirked. “I mean, you just met us.”

           “Call it my personal spider sense.” Peter shrugged. “I’m good at reading people, and you guys seem alright.” Peter didn’t add that he had top security clearance, up there with Tony and Pepper, and had run background checks on them all. He’d been a bit less prying then his mentor, though, and had JARVIS blur names and faces. He got the basics, though. Each spider kid was unique, around his age (a bit younger, actually), and were good in their own right. Heck, Love Bite stopped on random street corners to help school children and old people cross the road.

           Peter led the charge, and, of course, Logan was asking questions as they walked in. Logan was, by far, the smartest of the four, but Peter was surprising them by being a match for his intellect. Patton was startled by JARVIS greeting them when they walked in, but soon enough the AI and the teen were chatting up a storm. Roman, for all his gags at things like science and math, was actually quite good and intrigued by it, so he was looking all about with Virgil, pointing out things that looked cool and getting layman explanations of things from Peter.

           “So how does the whole… spider thing work?” Peter asked to the group as they passed a wall of armors. “Like, do you guys make your own web? Does it come out of…” He gestured to his behind.

           Virgil snorted as he nudged Logan. “Yeah, Arachne, does it come out down…” Spidergale found webbing over his mouth, courtesy of his best friend. Virgil let off a noise of protest as he scrambled at his mask to remove the muffle or move up the mask.

           “I myself, as well as Love Bite, have the ability to generate organic webbing from our wrists, but we tend to rely more on web shooters. Using organic webbing extensively can be draining and requires Love Bite and I to consume more calories when doing so.” Logan pulled off his glove and rolled down his sleeve slightly to reveal the device. “Weaver made the initial designs and prototypes. He also uses them. We’ve fit them with other devices in the mean time, like vocal communicator, tracking systems, and what not.”

           “I came up with the best kinds of snacks to deal with the hunger.” Love Bite nodded as he pulled out some wrapped cookies. “Want one?”

           Peter eyed the cookies. “Am I safe to eat one? I’m not superhuman.”

           “Oh! Wait…” Patton stuffed the cookies back into one pouch and pulled a new set from another. “These are just sugar cookies. We do a lot of patrolling, and snacks are important!”

           Roman pulled on Virgil’s mask, managing to dislodge the webbing. “Patton is a really good baker.” The emo noted as he leaned over to help Roman off the ground.

           Peter took the cookie before hesitantly taking a bite.

           His eyes blew wide.

           “I need, like, a million of these.” He said with great awe. “These are amazing. They’re awesome. Did you put something in this?”

           “Love and sugar, kiddo!” Patton confirmed before sticking a few cookies at each of them.

           “LB I’m not…” Virgil tried to say, but he found his mask jerked up slightly to reveal his mouth just as a cookie was stuffed in. It wasn’t even a regular one – it was one of the superhuman high protein high sugar ones Patton made.

           “Nope!” Patton chided. “Grandma told me that all you had was an apple today!”

           Virgil took a bite as he grabbed the cookie. “How did you know?”

           “She and all the other old ladies put me in their baking group chat.”

           Peter licked his fingers. “So the rumor is true? That you guys are Weaver’s kids?”

           The group snorted. “Yeah… that was a thing.” Roman smiled. “While Weaver is like the weird combination of dad and older brother, none of us are actually related. I mean, unless the spider venom changed our DNA and made us more related? Is that, like, a thing or just something in comics?”

           “The circumstances that gave us four our powers was similar to Weaver, but it was still separate. In short, we each were exposed to venomous chemicals of an altered spider that resulted in each of our power development.” Logan explained.

           “I arguably got the best powers.” Roman threw.

           The other spiders rolled their eyes.

           “We all have the same basic powers.” Virgil explained. “Wall sticking, enhanced strength, spider sense, etc. Arachne has a little less stick, so he uses his legs for extra grab. Also the web thing.” Virgil shot a web off into a corner.

           “We each have little cool powers, too! But they’re not really all there.” Patton explained. “Like I can pick up on surface thoughts of animals, but it comes and goes. Spidergale turned invisible once! That was really cool!”

           “Ro- uh, Royal Slinger blew out the speakers of our school’s speakers a few times.”

           “My voice is a beautiful weapon.”

           “Arachne’s also the fastest. Like, really fast.” The emo added last.

           Peter let off a whistle. “That’s pretty insane guys. I’d love me some super powers, but I think I’m stuck toying with armor in the mean time. Jar, don’t tell Mr. Stark about this, but I’m trying to compress an arc reactor to make it possible to charge a mobile suit of some sort.”

           “Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Parker.” JARVIS confirmed.

           “Just don’t jump into it feet first, dude.” Roman warned, wincing in memory of his first attempt at being a hero. Gods, his outfit was UG-LY back then. “You have, like, Iron Man to show you the ropes first. Rainbow Weaver has been the best in training us, and, even if I hate to admit it sometimes, we’d all be squished by now without him.”

           “Royal Slinger? Admitting he’s not immortal?” Spidergale joked.

           “A prince must know his limitations… so that he can overcome them!” The red spider defended.

           Peter thought about it before nodding. “I’ll think about it. Mr. Stark is a bit protective is all.”

           “And you think Weaver isn’t?” The emo threw before they all started sharing horror/hilarious stories about times Weaver had saved their asses in the most dad ways.

           They took an express elevator about 50 floors up before the doors opened, four spider senses going off at once as they hit the deck, grabbing Peter with them. A disk shot over them, bouncing off the interior of the elevator wall before Logan caught it with his legs. “Whoops! Sorry!” The five looked up to see a girl with a massive, stretched out form begin to shrink as JARVIS paused the practice. Off to another side, a girl with a squirrel ear headband and a massive squirrel tail waved, a number of little squirrels around her.

           “Hi Pete!” The animal girl waved. “Oh, hey! It’s the spider brigade! Hi!” The girl scampered over, one squirrel with a bow on her shoulder, a big grin on her face. She exhumed what the boys affectionately called ‘Patton energy.’ “So, I’m Squirrel Girl, this is Ms. Marvel, and this is Tippy-Toe!” She introduced in rapid succession.

           Patton leapt up. “Hello! I’m Love Bite, that’s Royal Slinger, this is Arachne, and this is Spidergale! Oh, and this is Peter!”

           “I know Peter!” Squirrel Girl replied.

           “Oh, sorry! Oh my gosh, your squirrels are SO CUTE! Can I pet them?”

           “Tippy-Toe loves petting!” As she said this, the squirrel on her shoulder leapt to Patton as the boy screeched in pure joy, gently petting the squirrel with pure adoration.

           Ms. Marvel made her way over as she picked up the disk with an enlarged hand. “We got bored and decided to goof off.”

           “That’s a mood.” Peter and Virgil said at the same time before looking at each other, grinning.

           “Ms. Marvel?” Roman asked, stepping forward. “Ok, so this might be a rumor, but I heard you can shapeshift.”

           “Mm-hm!” She said, setting down the disk and shifting into Royal Slinger. “I’m a polymorph!” She stated in her own voice before clearing her throat. “How do I look?” She struck a pose with Roman’s voice now.

           Virgil blinked between the two before turning to Logan. “Slap me. I’m having a nightmare.”

           “Hey!” Roman threw, but Ms. Marvel already shifted to appear like Spidergale. Roman was enamored. “You. You would be FANTASTIC in the school play! Can you act? Please say yes.”

           That was how Roman and Kamala were left, acting out favorite TV scenes and talking about superhero stuff (not, like, serious stuff but more ‘did you see Cyclops last week that outfit was HIDIOUS!’). Patton was currently covered in squirrels and designing crazy playgrounds off the walls with webbing.

           That left Peter, Virgil, and Logan.

           Peter turned to the two. “Wanna blow something up?”

           The two introverts shared a look.

           “Yes.”

           “Mr. Stark, Mr. Weaver.” JARVIS interrupted what Thomas was deciding was the most BORING meeting of his life. Seriously, they weren’t even covering whatever Doctor Doom or the Skrulls anymore but TAXES and PUBLIC IMAGE and BLAH BLAHDY BLAH! He was a wholesome gay hero he shouldn’t have to deal with taxes. This was some homophobic BS (as he kept telling himself, trying not to daydream too much about MJ or planning a new video and miss the whole meeting).

           “Hold up, Cabbage Patch.” Tony threw to the guy with ridiculously curly hair and a pressed suit on the screen. He was definitely a bureaucrat first and foremost. “What’s up, JAR?”

           “I would like to inform you that Protocol Baby Alarm has been triggered. It has also come to involve Mr. Weaver’s protégés, Spidergale and Arachne.” JARVIS intoned.

           “Well, shit, I guess I gotta deal with that.” Tony threw as he stood. “You don’t mind, Cap? Fury? Gotta make sure a civilian like my people are taken care of. Kinda serious.”

           Serious??? Weaver stood up, full of concern. “Wait, what’s the Baby Protocal? What happened?”

           “I’ll explain on the way.” Tony nodded as he easily walked out. Thomas abandoned his chair with little fanfare, worry and panic in his veins. His spider sense hadn’t gone off, and his gut (aka his ‘dad’ sense) hadn’t told him something was wrong. Tony walked quietly down the hall, humming something ACDC until they reached the elevator.

           Once the doors closed, Thomas felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin. “What’s the Baby Alarm? Tony, what happened? Are my kids ok?”

           Tony looked over before snorting. “JARVIS, pull me up a feed.”

           On the elevator doors, a holographic screen showed a room absolutely COVERED in spider web, the epicenter a mess of plastic, scorch marks, and more web. The camera panned to show Peter stuck to the floor, Logan trying to dislodge his legs from a wall, and Virgil… well, Virgil seemed to be stuck to the ceiling somehow. Soon, four other kids, including his missing spiders, ran in. Roman started laughing, even with the sound muted, and Patton began fussing over Logan.

           Then he got stuck.

           “Protocal Baby Alarm AKA Peter blew something up again, nothing’s actually broken, but now I have an excuse to leave a boring meeting.” Tony grinned as Thomas clutched his chest, his heart slowing. Everyone was alright.

           In so much trouble, but alright.

           “I TOLD them not to blow anything up!” Thomas threw.

           Tony laughed. “My kid’s a sweetie, but he can be a terrible influence.”

           “He seemed so innocent.”

           “Oh, he is.” Tony nodded as the door opened. “He gets the blow shit up bit from me. JARVIS? Can I get some blue prints on whatever they were doing? Or, hell, can we just get some bots to scrape them off?”

           Thomas cracked his neck as the biochemical components appeared on a holographic display that led them. At least he remembered enough of this gibboly goop from his chemical engineering degree. “Looks like they messed with the webbing formula… again.”

           “Again?”

           “Royal Slinger and Arachne can get very… creative with my original formula. Slinger always wants to make it gayer, and Arachne still hasn’t figured out how I get the coloring just right.”

           Tony laughed. Yeah, their kids would get along swell.

[feastofcadavers]

Mint and Truffle had gone ahead into the room where there was to be their introductory tea party. Could it be considered introductory? Something of the sort. There was a breath that shook more than it should as Aloe took a moment to prepare themself. Despite not believing in specters or ghosts or anything of the sort, there was something that clawed at their mind that they were going to lose their composure. Standing still for just a moment longer, the researcher prepared themself to acknowledge and face a loss that had happened so recently... Though it felt like months had passed, truly. Stress sure had its means of stretching and condensing time in means that no sense of 'fun' could ever accomplish.

Turning their gaze from the door the other two had entered, they faced the closed door that was to be the place where they'd confront their own emotions... And their lost loved one. The next few steps up to the door were cushioned by the carpet beneath, though that did not stop them from sounding as loud as a firecracker going off to them. Their hand gently lifted itself from their side, wrapping around the door handle. Their compound eyes stared down at the handle, acknowledging how cold it was to them even past their gloves. Another breath to keep themself together, and they turn the knob to let themself in.

The room was the same as the rest of the mansion in terms of aesthetics... Spiders and webs and whatever else could be seen around the time of Hallows' Eve. The silence was deafening, only being snuffed by the sound of Aloe's own footsteps and what they could have sworn to be the skittering of spiders. Giving the rare occurrence of looking up, the scientist was met with the sight of that spider mass above them. Though it was smaller and more of a hunk rather than a blanketing form. Was it... Following them? "I... Would appreciate some privacy..." They mumbled, narrowing their eyes as they contemplated the ridiculousness of speaking to a mass of insects. They, too, were partially insectoid, but that meant nothing when translating English to whatever bugs spoke. ...And yet, the mass made its way further into the room, crawling down one of the walls and past some portraits of individuals Aloe didn't recognize or cared to know of to reach the floor.

"I do not know if you are doing this to spite me or simply because you do not understand me, but this is not entertaining in the slightest..." Aloe would grumble, closing the door until there was only a crack, just in case there was a need to escape. "I am trying to have a moment of peace, and this is not helping in the slightest... If you wish to bother me, at least save it for la... ter..." Aloe's voice trailed off, eyes fixated on the mass of spiders as it shifted into something oddly humanoid. They had to take a moment to adjust their glasses, blinking and taken aback by the form that the spiders had taken.

"You... wait, you can't..." They tried to speak but suddenly found their mouth dry as their mind tries to process the shape before them. Co. It was them, wasn't it? Though coated in the blackness that was made from the spiders' bodies, the shape that those many insects made... The leaf-like hair, the ponytail it was bunched in, the body that was far thinner than what was healthy, the imitation of some sort of coat... Faceless as it was and as terrible as Aloe's eyesight could be at times, the form before them had to have been Co... It had to. No one else looked anywhere near similar to what they looked like. This was a dream, wasn't it? They had been bitten by a spider, and this was all some venom-fueled dream, right? There was no way that some 'spirit' of their dearest friend had come to see them in the form of some spider-made mass, right? Right?

"...You came back to see me... did you, Co...?" The voice that was able to pry itself out of the scientist felt hollow. It was as if the life that was previously lingering beneath it had been stolen away by the sight. A chill ran over their body, which only increased upon seeing the figure nodded. Was this what it was like to quake? To tremble in shock? They hadn't felt like this since this accursed disease was first contracted... Breathlessly, a laugh rang out from them, short and shaken. "I-I thought... I thought I would never see y-you again..." A hesitant step forward was taken, Aloe's body practically shambling towards the figure. "I... I couldn't save you... I couldn't help you as I h-had promised..." Some strange whimper made its way out of Aloe's throat, warranting a tilt of the spider mass's head- or the mockup of it at least. "You- I-... We were going to see the beach together... We were g-going to see the palm trees together, a-and I..." When had this strange heat dripping down their face started? They didn't recognize it at first, but once their mind processed it past everything else that had accrued, it spilled out faster than any wound's blood ever could.

Reaching out an unsteady hand towards the figure, "I failed you- I failed a-and now you're no longer here-... P-please forgive me-" it looked towards the offering and shook its head. The hissing breath inward that Aloe had taken seemed to make it seem guilty, as it gave frantic arm motions that rejection of forgiveness wasn't what it meant. "H-huh...? Then- then what...?" Foggy as their mind may be, some small light was able to come through for them to understand. Right. This was a mass of spiders. If they got bitten, who knows what could happen? A forced laugh came from the mentally disheveled as they set their hand down. "Apologies. As- as you can tell, I am not in the best place at the moment... But that, ah, that is probably nothing compared t-to your situation, yes?" Something to attempt to lighten the sappy mood that had been developed, though that wouldn't last long.

"Well, erm... I suppose I should take this time t-to simply... Speak to you... Before I-I bring you back in that lesser plush form..." Their gaze averted the other's for a moment, not that there were eyes to peer at to begin with. "If... You would not mind that... A-after all, it is your body and a-all... And I don't know if you would rather pass on o-or something else..." Forcing their gaze to raise, they saw the spider-made version of Co nodded quite vigorously. So much so that it was knocking some spiders off of itself. "Ah, well, that's... Wonderful... Um..." Why was it suddenly so hard to speak? It was as if cotton balls were put in their mouth without the sensation of the actual cotton. "I... I m-missed you... Oh so much, I have missed you..."

"...What say you to, ah, perhaps a... A civil discussion of the past... and wh-what shall be done in the future...?"

[the-wiresmarvelau]

T.H.E. W.I.R.E.S.

Chapter 1 Chapter 6

Chapter 7: settling in

When he awoke the second time, he was alone, or at least that's what he thought.  

The excessively soft fabric that was so fluffy before, now clung to his skin with sweat.  

Everything still ached, but he could feel it healing; at least the fog in his head had lifted a little.  

He rolled onto his side, savouring the last few seconds of rest he would get, knowing he would start to grow restless soon; staying down had never ended well for him.  

Even as he lay there, his thoughts raced.

He knew he was on Midgard. He knew that he had been broken out by his mother, and that the boy in red spandex had been there when he first woke up; though what they had talked about hadn't really registered.

The more he lay there, the more nervous energy pent up inside him.

Soon enough he couldn't bear to keep his eyes closed anymore.

They opened to honey-coloured walls and dark green sheets. The air was comfortably cool and filled with a low humming sound.

Still tired, but familiar enough with his healing process to know that he couldn't go back to sleep, he raised himself up onto his elbows.

As he shifted to a sitting position, he couldn't help the gnawing feeling in the back of his head that tried to remind him of something, and he didn't have to wait long to find out what it was.  

The moment he had leaned back enough to rest his back on the wall, a voice spoke up.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the land of the living.” it said from above, soft and in a low volume, as if not to spook him.

The Jotun remembered hazily that the boy had spoken about some form of incorporeal being or ‘intelligence’ as he had put it.  

“Greetings.” the god managed to press out.  

His lips still stung whenever they moved, but they were healing thanks to his mother's spell.  

“You have slept for several hours. The one you may know as Spider-man is out on patrol, but he should be back soon enough. In the meantime, I may answer any questions you could have; but before that, I should inform you that everything in this room is at your disposal. The same goes for the bathroom.  

“For the time being, you should stay away from the stairs, though. For safety purposes, this room is not registered as part of the compound, meaning that no protocol forces me to reveal that you are inside. In the rest of the compound, however, I may have to report your presence to Dr. Stark, better known as Ironman.  

“Any use of Internet in this room goes through me; to be to show up in the protocols as if I had looked the things up; further veiling your presence.”

In response the Jotun just nodded and tried to stand up.  

His legs felt shaky underneath him, but they could support his weight just fine, luckily.  

He really wanted to take a shower, then he could further survey his room.  

Passingly he registered that this room was nothing like the cell he would have imagined he would be put in, but he was still too tired and exhausted to properly grasp that.  

The bathroom was weird. It had multiple showers and multiple toilet stalls, as if designed to cater to several people and not just one. But he ignored that, just like the basket of bloody towels next to the door.  

When he stepped under the spray, he half expected it to be boiling hot, like all the baths at Odin's place had been, or to be ice-cold, no use bothering to heat up the water for a cell.  

But to his surprise, it was no extreme. Tepid and a little more to the warm side, but still pretty comfortable for a human.  

After all this time in the scalding heat of his father's dungeons. He appreciated being able to turn the water a little bit cooler, relishing the smooth feeling on his skin.  

Finally, the rest of the fog still residing in his mind cleared away.  

While rinsing himself down, he looked around.  

This sure was a weird bathroom, but he wouldn't complain, for it was still far more luxurious than he had thought it would be.  

Then his eyes caught on the basket of bloody towels, which the spider boy must have used to clean his injured body.

Dark red and brown contaminating the pristine white of the clearly new towels.  

He found himself a fresh one and dried down before slinging it around his hips and starting to work on cleaning the bloody ones.  

It was the least he could do. He had to repay the other and he knew how to get blood out of cloth just fine.  

With magic he could have been done in seconds, but as it were his powers hadn’t yet regenerated enough for that.

At least the repetitive work gave him more time to think, which he was glad for.  

While he stood there, clad in just the towel, his mind wandered to the clothes he had woken up in.  

It was a relief when he realised he had still been wearing the ripped trousers from Odin. It would be weird otherwise.  

The Asgardian took them up. Even though he didn't particularly care about them.  

On the other hand, the hoody had been one of the most comfortable things he had ever worn.  

At home they mostly cared for practicality and not for comfort; at least for boys’ clothes and he had no interest in making himself more of a target by wearing dresses while somebody could recognize him.

“You alright in there, sir?” the voice spoke from the other room  

Right...

He wasn’t alone.

“I am fine,” he called out, while folding the clothes, before resuming his task at the sink.

Once he had finished getting all the blood he could out of the towels, he hung them over the partitions between the shower stalls, to let them dry. Then he went back to the main room, folded clothes in hand.

“There are fresh clothes in the closet to your right.” The voice – what was their name again? – announced.

“Right,” the Asgardian answered, just to say something. It felt weird responding nonverbally to someone who couldn’t do the same.

Rifling through the different fabrics, his eyes caught on a skirt. Hanging between a few button ups.  

For a moment he was tempted to wear it.

The voice had said everything in this room was for him to use; but the risk was too great.

Under no circumstances was he to fall out of his host’s favour.

Judging by the bathroom and the fact that he could spot no less than three beds suggested that this room was meant to also host other people, some of whom might be women.

There was no telling how a Midgardian might react to finding out he was outside of society’s gender binary.

So, he opted for a pair of black sweatpants and a loose, grey shirt, whose arms were just a little short, but if pushed up a few inches, looked stylish.

A bit awkward, he also picked out a pair of boxershorts.

Clothes draped over one shoulder, he went back into the bathroom to change

When he was done, he took a closer look around.

The room had a patchwork kind of feel to it; with the closet and the shelf on the far wall being the only pieces of furniture in the same colour.

Both were a dark, orange-leaning amber, while the other shelf was of a brownish hue but so bright, it almost seemed white.

Still, nothing seemed out of place. Because everything did.

While the bunk beds were what you would expect to find in a child’s room, the giant mattress let into the wall belonged in the dreamhouse of a very stylish, young adult.

All the different earthy-wood shades of the walls, shelves, desk, closet and kitchen counter covered such a wide spectrum, that it looked like they had been picked by throwing darts at a brown hue pallet.

The god was so on board with this kind of chaos.

Especially since everything that wasn’t made of wood was either green fabric or charcoal grey . Totally his colour scheme.  

Deciding he could deal with serving the rest of his sentence in here, so long as he could get his hands on more books than just the few dozen which currently didn’t even cover a fifth of the shelf on the wall. He snatched one of them at random and let himself fall onto the couch.

Before he could start reading though, the voice spoke up again.

“Sorry to interrupt,” they didn’t sound sorry at all. “But I thought it might be of interest to you that your mother has left a little something here with you. It materialized a letter along with some vials while you slept. You can find it on the nightstand behind your bed.”

Huh. He should have known. His mother always thought about everything.

When he looked over, he noticed what the voice meant and smiled.

The vials were familiar enough that he could recognize them from where he sat; they would be a great help in regaining his magic and healing everything up.

Curious about the letter, the Jotun made his way over and took the desired piece of parchment.

True to his expectations, his mother really had thought about everything.

In the letter she informed him that, against his expectations he was allowed to use magic as much as he liked, though he was always monitored by the guardian of this realm.

She also apologized for what she recognized as a grave oversight on her part, but Loki had already forgiven her. He had intentionally hidden the matter, after all.

Still... it was nice to be told.

After reading the letter a few times, he tucked it away neatly beneath the weird, mushroom-shaped lamp on the desk and used up two of the vials; drinking one and applying the other to his lips and the cuts he could reach.

Settling back on the couch, he picked up the book again and began to read.

While swinging home Peter was energized equally from excitement and nerves.  

He had met THE Bruce Banner, meaning his room hadn't been constructed for nothing.  

And he didn't even make himself that much of a fool.  

On the other hand, he would come to the compound; Tony probably too, to keep the other scientist company.  

It would mean Loki would have to stay inside his room to stay off the engineer’s radar.

So many things could go wrong… he didn't even want to think about it.  

He just had to hope that the god of Mischief would understand and not try to show himself to the other two.  

That shouldn't be a problem though. The other was smart enough to know that it would have much heavier repercussions for him than it would for Peter.  

Still; ‘Accidents are inevitable.’ The quote from Tony ghosts through his mind.  

But first things first.  

Tomorrow afternoon was enough time to give the God a tour around the compound before he'd have to stay in that room of his; since FRIDAY wouldn't be installed until then.  

Or should he not show him?  

It would probably be a little cruel to show him everywhere he couldn't go.  

Then again, the other could watch the security footage to get a feel of what was going on around the compound.  

From what he'd heard from Tony it could be pretty entertaining once all the Avengers messed around together.  

And for that, it would probably be helpful if Loki had an understanding of where which rooms are.

With his mind made up, he landed on the roof of the compound.  

There weren't many trees immediately around, but he had made sure that there would be posts arranged in a pattern that would allow him to swing to the compound directly.  

That way he wouldn't have to run across the field every time.  

First, he got down into his room to get dressed.  

While his suit was pretty amazing; It wasn't that comfortable to wear for long periods of time.

And he needed to take a shower.  

He made sure to be quick and afterwards got dressed in a baby-blue, sleeveless sweater with a red turtleneck underneath and red sweatpants.  

Ever since he had gotten that outfit a few weeks earlier, he had wanted to wear it; Never sure when it would fit the occasion, though now it seemed appropriate to keep to his suit’s colour scheme.  

Quickly he checked that Manuel had taken control of his watch again. He got green light. Literally

It was only minutes later that he stood at the top of the stairs to the ex-bunker, where the Asgardian resided in.  

Peter was glad for Shuri and MJ to have enforced that much security on the room for a case of emergency. All of that came in handy now.

In case the god was still sleeping he crept down the stairs as silently as possible, to not wake him.  

But he wasn't. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, a book beside him and already looking in his direction.

That's right, he had asked Manuel to inform the other of when he arrived.  

He let a bright grin take over his face. “You're awake, that's good. You feeling any better?” he asked, not knowing how else to start a conversation.  

The other seemed a bit hesitant to answer. Probably expecting him to be tired after patrol, Peter thought. The god nodded. “Thanks, I am better”.

He enunciated clearly and shortly, so different from when he had spoken all the other times that Peter had seen on the security footage.  

“That’s good to hear,” the teen answered, sliding down the handrail of the stairs to get down quicker.

“I'm pretty sure you have made acquaintance with Manuel by now,” he said, vaguely gesturing to the ceiling where all the cameras and loud speakers were, even though that was not really the place where the AI itself resided:

Loki just nodded, relieved to know the voice’s name without having to ask for it.  

“Nice! I'm pretty sure he will have already told you, but just in case I give you the run down again,” the boy started before taking a deep breath and beginning to go down his mental list, with things to tell the god.  

“This room is yours. It was originally planned as a bunker for emergencies, which is why it is completely hidden from anyone inside or outside the compound. That means that as long as you stay in here, nobody but Manuel, some friends of mine and I will know about your existence.  

“Anything in here is for you. I tried to make it as homely as possible since you will probably have to stay here most if not all of the time. Since it wasn't originally planned, I've had to improvise on furniture, which is why everything looks a little out of place. But I hope it's all right.  

“Now to the matter with the clothes: I didn't know your size, so I just took what I thought would fit you. But I will soon give you a StarkPad with which you can order yourself new stuff. I just have to reprogram one to work with Manual properly.  

“Otherwise, FRIDAY might be able to track you, so it could take a while. Until then, it seems like I've found at least some clothes that fit you,” he paused and gave the god a once-over , before shaking his head and continuing.  

“Anyway, as you can see, you have a kitchen in here. I've tried to stock it up with things that most people like. If you want something specific or run out of something, just tell Manuel and we will put it on the shopping list.  

“It may take a few days until you get it though, since we only get shipping’s once a week, but don’t hesitate to ask for something. My metabolism is pretty high, and Mr. Stark noticed this. Plus Dr. Banner will be moving in tomorrow; And once all the others get here, your orders won't be nearly enough to arouse suspicions… probably.” The last word he mumbled to himself.  

“Now! That was it about this room… I think. Next, I'm going to show you around the compound. It will probably be the only time though, since tomorrow FRIDAY, Mr. Stark's AI will be installed. And if she sees you, she will definitely tell Mr. Stark, and we can't have that.” Peter said, before leading the way up the stairs.

The god dutifully following behind him, uncertain what to make of it all.  

Why was the boy so nice to him? He had literally tried to enslave him and his whole realm just a few years ago.  

But he wasn't in a position to question him. So, he followed the boy up the stairs into a small storage looking room.  

“Now… This hallway is hidden. It is part of what I call THE WIRES.” The boy started up again.  

“This is still part of Manuel’s ‘territory’ so to speak, meaning FRIDAY won't detect you in here. But if anyone asks her if somebody is in these hallways, which are hidden and secret by the way. Did I mention that?”  

He chatted enthusiastically, while gesturing to everything and nothing in particular. “Never mind. So, if FRIDAY was asked if somebody is in THE WIRES, then Manuel is forced by protocol to answer that truthfully.  

“That counts for everywhere but your room, which is why you should stay there most of the time, though I guess you could stray through THE WIRES - which I will tell you where they go and end as we go along - but only if the others are asleep or not in the compound for otherwise, they might ask about this.  

“…Well, only Tony might ask about it,” he mused, “But that's beside the point. Just be careful and always communicate with Manuel. If he can't answer a question, he will ask me. I will always have him with me through this watch.”

The teenager indicated said item.  

It went on like that for the whole tour, with Peter mindlessly rambling about everything and anything he could think of about the rooms and hallways that they came across.  

He also showed him most of the entrances and exits of THE WIRES and the vents, telling the God everything about the three different networks of pathways; with the ones easier to find and the harder ones, interlocking at places, so that you could access the secondary layer of THE WIRES by finding secret entrances within some of the more obvious passages.'  

The super-powered teenager seemed decidedly too excited about this whole idea, the god decided; but somehow, it didn’t bother him.

Chapter 1 Chapter 6

[solarbird]

The Armourer and the Living Weapon, Chapter 10: she even got me, once

This chapter is worksafe.

[AO3 link]

"Are you ready?" asked Oilliphéist, over audio-only comms.

"I am," replied Widowmaker.

"Château," said Emily.

"Châteauneuf-du-Pape," responded the sniper.

"Vaucluse."

"Signal de Saint-Pierre."

"Lavande."

"What're they doing?" asked Winston, quietly, leaning to Lena, as the two assassins continued to exchange words.

"They did this before, Widow explained it to me," the teleporter replied, leaning to Winston, equally quiet. "It's a kind of integrity check? It's a series of trigger words that key other words. It changes on its own, over time, so if one or two words change, it's no big deal, right? But if it changes a lot, quickly - somebody's mucked with her."

The scientist nodded. "Handy, given where they came from. Emily's English, though - why's it all in French?"

Lena just shrugged, focusing on the word series. The sequence sounded the same as before, to her, but she wasn't entirely sure - she'd tried to remember the list, but there were so many words. She heard Emily say, "Livraison," and immediately thought, Metro.

"Metro," said Widowmaker, and Lena smiled.

"Centre météorologique canadien," replied Oilliphéist.

"Armoiries."

"Exactly the same as last time."

"Your side, as well," said the spider, "to my distinct relief."

"So," said Lena, "you both basically... check out?"

Widowmaker nodded. "Yes. I wish you had this facility, as well. It is... reassuring."

"Talon didn't build that into you, did they." It wasn't a question. "I wouldn't think they'd want you t'know."

"Spot on," said Emily, over comms. "I think it's a side-effect. We found it ourselves, in her, first - and now I have it, too!"

"Nothin' personal, but if the ability to checksum my brain comes only as part of gettin' my brain rebuilt, I'll opt out."

Widowmaker allowed her lover a small smile. "Understandable."

"Em, you still hiding out at the safehouse?"

"Yes, and it's incredibly dull. Have you talked to Overwatch's council yet?"

"About to - we wanted to check in with you, first. Let you know we were alive."

"I do appreciate that - but Aunt Moira's getting pretty impatient."

"Yeah, well, she can wait - this is our first day out of quarantine. We'll be meeting up after lunch."

"I'll tell her you're out of Overwatch jail, at least... oh! How is, um, the cowboy?"

"Embarrassed," said the defector. "Deservedly."

"Don't be mad at him," Emily replied over comms, "Auntie's good with those darts. They're self-guided. She even got me, once!"

"Before, or after?" asked Widowmaker.

A laugh, over comms. "Before, obviously. But still."

"She wouldn't get me now," said Tracer, as Widowmaker nodded in agreement. "Nor me, I think," her lover added.

A giggle. "I'm pretty sure she'd love another chance to practice those upgrades, if he wanted to come by..."

"No," interrupted Tracer, firmly. "Now that we've checked in - we've got some prep work to do on this end, and I need to get some workout time with those pistols you made."

Widowmaker agreed, humming quietly. "Cherie, do you mind? We will contact you again after the meeting."

"I'll be waiting. And tell me how it goes, on the range! I'm so glad to hear your voices again - both of you."

"I know," replied the sniper, eyes half-closed, "it is the same, for me."

"Oilliphéist out."

"Widowmaker out."

"I don't remember giving you clearance for your pistols," Dr. Ziegler said, sternly, as the comms went quiet.

Tracer shook her hands. "C'mon, doc, we've both been locked up for days. I know I need a workout."

"As do I," noted the spider.

"You must have something we can use..."

"This is a research facility, not an Overwatch station. We have a weights room, which you are both welcome to use, but we have nothing like you're requesting." The doctor considered. "Fareeha uses a Helix Security facility when here, perhaps," she thumbed her comm. "Perhaps we can work something out. I'll be right back." She walked to her private office, and the two women talked, quietly, over comms, for a few minutes, before returning.

"Good news; we have a site. She'll meet us there," said the scientist. "No sniper rounds, I'm sorry. But we do have clearance for pistols, supervised, as long as they're kept unloaded outside the range."

The assassin shrugged. "I could, I suppose, limber up with my chain, and re-establish targeting. It is better than nothing."

"Yeah, love," smiled her partner. "Maybe you can even keep up with me now!"

A derisive snort. "I always could."

An hour later, Tracer jinked from target to target, faster than ever, four to five teleports at a time. This is... this is wizard, she thought, as she unloaded entire clips into targets in patterns - smiley faces, outlines of airplanes, her initials, whatever came to mind.

Widowmaker watched from a level above, tracking her lover with her empty Kiss, and finding it difficult at first - until her own quickness started to settle in, overriding old habits, old limits, and as it did, she purred. Ooh la la, she thought. This is better. This is... this is wonderful.

Pharah, in turn, watched from above, astonished at their raw speed, occasionally exchanging words with Winston over comms, Winston, who worried - deeply - for them both.

-----

"So that's basically the situation," Lena explained. "We can intervene on one side of this civil war Talon's got going. If we pull it off, we tip the balance back to where it was before Akande got sprung. Moira continues to be terrifying and awful, Talon continues to be a pack of wankers - no offence, love..."

"None taken," replied Widowmaker. "I defected for reasons, after all."

"...but we stop Talon's attempt to start a Second Omnic Crisis. Millions of people - both omnic and human - don't die in the next couple of years just 'cause Doomfist and Reaper have some kind of fascist hard-on for 'struggle.' Both sides of Talon lose a lot, and come out weaker."

"And all Overwatch does is... stay out of the way?" Winston asked.

"Pretty much. I'd be the intermediary, and ... I'd be involved, up close, and unexpected. Mostly to protect Em and Wids - but not just."

"There are reasons I kept you out of Blackwatch, Lena," Morrison said.

"Think I'm not suited for it, then?" she glared just a little, copper eyes glinting.

"Too well suited for it. It's corrosive. You saw what it did to Rayes."

"Someone from Overwatch has to see what happens, dad. Unless you just wanna take their word on it."

"Preventing another war has to come first," said Mei-Ling. "The data I have is all very bad. I do not think the ecosystem could handle another conflict like the last one! There is already so much damage, and everything is so unstable now... another war like the last one would push us over several different edges, the results would be catastrophic. Millions dead is far too low an estimate."

Angela nodded. "I have served as a wartime medic and surgeon in enough wars. If we could preempt one - particularly one so large as that..." She shook her head.

"Not to mention, with Talon busy, we could really go to work on Vishkar," added Lúcio, no longer in Brazil, but at the table, stopping by while on tour. "With an Architech on our side, pointing out where we should investigate - we could do a lot of real good while Talon's busy having their little showdown."

"It's almost too good." Hana frowned, skepticism in her voice. "If I saw this in a game, I'd be all 'ha ha no not fallin' for that, n00b.'"

Lena nodded. "Too right. We'd have to be on the lookout for some kinda betrayal at every point."

"Sure," the Korean replied. "But - we're missing something. And here you are, talking about working with" - she gestured at the smirking French Talon agent, who had the sense not to talk about her finest kills - "Mondatta's assassin..."

"I'm already sleeping with her, luv, this isn't a big step," Lena snipped, shifting the rifle on her back, just a little. She missed her new pistols already - but the Kiss being there helped.

"...and maybe she got better, okay, but you're siding up with the mad scientist who made her, and her crazy niece, all to pick a side in their civil war? I'm not the only one seeing bait here, am I?"

"No," said Morrison. "You're not."

"Not trying isn't an option, though," said Mei-Ling.

Oxton nodded, and sighed. "I'm not sayin' I don't see the possible traps. I do. At best, it's messy and it's awful, but I ... I know that Mondatta would want this war stopped. He'd care about how, it would matter, but most of all, he wouldn't want this war to happen."

"And we're not just going after both sides, because...?"

"Because that is probably the one thing that would force them to mend their fences," interjected the blue assassin. "They would go back to working together, rather than fighting each other."

"Nothin' creates alliances like a common enemy," added Lena.

"I still don't like it," said the Meka pilot. She turned to Dr. Ziegler. "I don't care what you think about her personally, doc, but as far as I can tell, Moira's a psychopath." She heard Lena snicker, to her right.

"I never said she wasn't," replied the Swiss woman. "Many psychopaths are personable, when they want to be."

"If she decides she wins by turning on us, she will," Song insisted.

"Absolutely," Lena agreed. "That'll have to be in every decision we make."

"It will be," insisted the soldier. "Assuming we're foolish enough to try this."

"We have to," insisted Dr. Zhou, again, before being interrupted by Lúcio, objecting, "I don't see how you can even think about working with her, after the way she grabbed you like that. No way I would."

"T'be honest, I'm scared of her. But... not even for a prize this big?"

Lúcio had to think about it, and didn't immediately answer.

"What if it would take down Vishkar?"

The DJ took a long, deep breath, and nodded, slowly once. "...yeah. Maybe."

"There y'go. That's why."

"We have to try," interjected Mei-Ling, again, with surprising vehemence. "Are none of you listening? If they are trying to start this war, if that is Doomfist and Reaper's plan, we have to try. We also have to tell every agency who will listen to us, so they can work against it as well."

Winston nodded, but Morrison and Song started to protest, but Dr. Zhou raised her voice over them, "Did you not hear me? The biosphere cannot take another Omnic war! Look, I have made projections." She threw a set of charts and graphs up over the centre of the conference table. "Carbon stability is only the start of it. Do you think the megastorms of 30 years ago were bad? I have been preparing a paper with the data collected while I was in cryogenic suspension. Imagine one covering half a hemisphere!"

She flipped another set of graphics up. "Now imagine 62-plus degree weather across North Africa, and 65-plus degrees in South Asia."

Another set. "Now imagine the oceans - barely recovering now - essentially devoid of life. There would be no recovery path."

Another set. "Here are agricultural projections. Ignoring war dead, we can project global crop collapses and multiple pandemics resulting from malnutrition and other knock-on effects. This projection - I would expect two to three billion dead. With extremely aggressive use of genetic modifications on a yearly basis, in a best-case scenario, we might cut it to one billion. The first year."

The room had grown silent as the reams of data had shuffled past. "The paper on which these projections are based is going to Nature next month for peer review, but I am confident of my numbers. Do you understand, now? Another Omnic war kills civilisation. Maybe the entire planet. For anyone biological, this war would be a death sentence."

She turned back to the copper-eyed Overwatch agent. "I'm sorry, Lena - if this is what he is trying to do, then Akande must be stopped. If there is any chance, any chance at all, you must take it."

"I... had no idea it was so bad," Oxton managed, after a few seconds.

"It isn't, now, but... it would be."

Morrison flipped through smaller versions of the images on his padd. Hana Song did the same. "Wow," she said, after a few minutes. "Okay, I guess... we have to."

"I think we do," Winston agreed. "The rest of us can dedicate ourselves to analysis - and to other actions against the more militant anti-Omnic groups. This is too important for a single approach. Governmental intervention is critical, but it will take them weeks or months to respond."

Lena frowned. She'd won, but it didn't feel like winning, not at all, as the weight of the situation fell on to her shoulders. "Then, I guess... we're in. We're doin' this."

"I'm sorry," said her best friend, as Morrison and Song both nodded their reluctant but clear assent. "I'm very much afraid we are."