#what more tag talking do you want from me I already did quite the apt amount of yapping

[spideypawz]

Sprite edits based on how I draw the homestuck kids.

And some commentary.

[nightmarecountry]

GET TO KNOW ME BETTER!

repost / don't reblog

ALIAS / NAME: Wilds is our collective name and it's what I prefer atm since it doesn't make assumptions about who's fronting, but if you want to be super specific you can call me (the one you're usually talking to/the host/the main writer here) Coyote, or pretty much any canine or corvid or other animal-you-feel-is-appropriate themed nickname you can come up with. I can never fully settle on something for myself so. SHRUGS. I don't really have a name of my own as far as I'm concerned. Everyone knows me as different things and I like it that way.

BIRTHDAY: It's in February!

ZODIAC: Pisces

HEIGHT: 5'3. I'm not quite pocket-sized but I'm very easy to hold. Hold me. Please. I make a really good blanket.

HOBBIES: Hmm. I play ukulele (badly) and write poetry and songs sometimes. I sometimes mod breedfiles in a virtual pet game from the 00s for fun. I don't have much in the way of hobbies aside from writing/RPing/character creation otherwise, because I never have... energy...

FAV. COLOUR: Gold but I'm particular about the hue. I like oranges, reds, and yellow-greens too. This of course varies tremendously between system members so I'm very much just speaking for myself here. ☕ likes purples, blacks and greys a lot, for example.

FAV. BOOK: The Bedlam Stacks by Natasha Pulley.

LAST SONG: Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

LAST MOVIE / SHOW: Succ.ession. I'm on like episode 4 or something. I think I had to take a break because it shows some stroke recovery stuff and that's tough for me to watch given what happened with my partner.

RECENT READ: Uhhh I last read The Wake in the mansand series, I think... WAIT no I guess technically it's the Near Dark script LMAO.

INSPIRATION: I'm inspired by music and other people's writing a lot. Poetry and screenplays tend to really spark my muse for some ungodly reason. I don't know man. Really depends on who's around. My system also inspires our writing A Lot TM in ways that are fairly obvious once you get to know us.

STORY BEHIND URL: I knew it was a Corinth.ian centered comic so I stole the title before I'd even read the damn thing. Now I'm super glad I did because that comic is VERY apt for my Corinth in particular. Every time they release a new issue I become more canon.

tagged: @ohsunshine my beloved.

tagging: everyone i know is doing it already let me rest

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Black VS Black [黑色对峙] Date Translation (END 6: Heart-throb)

“Do you really think that I think there’s no helping you?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by anon! You can check my on-going requests and more here!

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

The cat caused an incident! What should I do?

⊹ Check the fallen model ⊹

I didn’t think too much about it, instead, hurrying over to where the car model had fallen. 

I picked it up and inspected the damages.

There was a long crack in the middle and several parts had broken off, scattering compartments all over the floor.

MC: Can this… still be saved…?

Just as I was thinking of how to break this bad news to Osborn, his low voice sounded from behind.

Osborn: What a big commotion.

Osborn: What? Did Mitt get into an accident?

I steeled myself and stopped covering the scene of the “car accident” that had occurred. I got up and handed him the car model that I held.

MC: The “culprit” knocked this car model down and fled.

Osborn frowned, reaching me in a couple of long strides.

He took the model and turned it around a couple of times, observing it with an indifferent look on his face.

MC: Is it too damaged to fix?

Osborn: I can just send it for repairs over the next few days. Let's go look for the cat first.

He calmly placed the broken car model back onto the shelf, taking a “let’s talk about this later” stance.

This model had been placed together with many other car models that looked new, pristine, and without a scratch. Not to mention, the glistening trophy that had been right next to it. A wild guess entered my mind.

MC: Do all the car models here hold some sort of commemorative meaning?

Osborn: Hm? Why do you ask?

MC: I mean, if they are some sort of special memento to you, then they should have been subjected to routine maintenance, right?

MC: If so, then you should also have the tools for it along with any part replacements, yes?

Thoughtfulness slipped into his eyes.

Osborn: You want to help me fix it?

MC: Yeah! That cat was just spooked real bad, and it wouldn’t do us any good if it got a bigger fright the next time and reacted even worse to it if we continued chasing after it.

MC: So, why don’t we leave the cat hunt for later and fix the car model back up first?

MC: Plus, I’m pretty dexterous with my hands. Wanna give me a chance to show you my prowess?

He raised an eyebrow, his pale green eyes glinting.

Osborn: Okay. Here's your time to shine.

Osborn stretched his arms over my head. For a while, all I could see was his broad chest. I felt my breath hitch.

Then, he suddenly lowered his head. His face was incredibly close to mine.

The scent of black cedar assaulted my nose. I blinked. My brain was lagging.

MC: Oh, okay.

Osborn: Take it.

My gaze slid to his hand. Turns out that he’d just been fetching the toolbox that had been in the cabinet above the display shelves.

Osborn: I'm waiting.

I took the toolbox from him and opened it.

I was greeted by a multitude of components in all shapes and sizes. Some of the tools in it were similar to the ones I used when making my designs, but there were also some that I’d never seen before.

I picked up a tool that looked like a cross between a pen and a knife, looking to Osborn for advice.

MC: What's this?

Osborn: An exacto knife. It’s used to cut off excess parts of the joints when required.

MC: Mmhm, okay. I've remembered it.

Osborn: This is a cutting plier, screw sanders, tweezers...

Osborn picked out a couple more tools from within the box and introduced them to me.

Osborn: Anything else you can't recognize?

MC: Not for now.

Osborn: Okay. Then let's remove the damaged compartments first.

MC: Okay.

First, we used a screwdriver to remove the damaged compartments. Then, we replaced them with brand-new spare parts.

This race car model was really different from those being sold out in the market. It was made with exquisite craftsmanship, and its internal makings were far more complicated than I'd initially thought.

When it was time to add colours to it, Osborn prepared the required paints and set them out in measured portions onto the palette with ease and finesse. He smoothly handed me a brush.

Osborn: Do you know how to touch up the paintwork?

I hesitated.

MC: I've painted outfit designs before for design needs, but I'm sure it's completely different from actually painting a model.

MC: I don't know if it works the same…

Osborn: See my demonstration first then.

He dipped his brush into the red paint, carefully painting it onto the model. It came out very uniform and smoothly layered.

I'd stared at him, watching him do it a couple more times. But, no matter how much I watched the same process, I couldn't quite grasp it. Even if I tried mimicking his actions, my paintwork always turned out patchy and uneven.

Osborn laughed, placing his hand over mine and directing the brush I held.

He directed my brush, guiding me on how I should be painting the compartment with a focused look on his face.

It was all serious and business, except… My focus was inevitably drawn towards his movements and breaths.

Osborn: Get it?

MC: Mmhm...

I tried my hardest to remember the way he did it and followed suit. The end result was much smoother than what I'd been accomplishing before.

After the finishing touches were in place, I raised the model and showed it to him.

MC: Like… this? This should be done now, right?

Osborn: Not bad. You've got standard.

My spirits soared at having received such direct praise from him.

MC: Since I'm such an apt learner, how about enlisting my help again the next time you make another model of a race car?

Osborn slightly raised a brow as he contemplated my paint-stained hands.

Osborn: I'll think about it.

MC: Does this even need to be considered?

MC: I'm pretty quick to pick up hands-on skills, not just fixing up models of racing cars! So I'm a fast learner no matter what it is!

MC: You can test me again if you don't believe me!

Just as I was boasting about my assets in an attempt to make myself appeal to him, Osborn's calloused fingers suddenly brushed against my cheek.

The rough texture of the pads of his fingers made my heart skip a beat.

MC: What's wrong?

Osborn: You got something on your face.

I doubtfully touched my face. Suddenly, I pulled my hand away to find my fingers stained with red paint.

Astonished, I look at Osborn's hands, only to find even more red paint on them…

MC: Don't tell me you drew something on it!!

Osborn: What gives?

MC: Hey! You're biting the hand that feeds!

Osborn: Whatever do you mean by that?

Osborn: I'm just adding some blush and colour to your face. Makes you prettier.

I was taken aback, nonetheless.

MC: Okay. Then, I'll add some colour to your cheeks for you!

Osborn: Whoa, hey! Easy!

MC: Nothing you say now is gonna stop me!

I swiftly picked up the brush and dipped it into the paint set out onto the palette, rushing straight for his face.

Osborn quickly reared back, but I subconsciously followed right after his retreat.

And this was how I toppled him down to the ground with him doing nothing to defend himself.

Osborn was astonished. He'd attempted to get back up, only for my other hand to immediately dart out to pin him down by the shoulder.

MC: No moving!

Surprise flashed through his eyes, as his usual impish smile crawled its way back up his face.

Osborn: Wow, what an aggressor.

MC: That's right. Now's my time to retaliate!

MC: No use trying to escape!

I circled the air with the brush, purposefully observing his face to make my mark.

MC: Hmm, what do you want me to draw on you?

Osborn seemingly accepted the fact that he was going to be an inevitable victim of mine since I already had him "pinned" down. He folded his arms behind his head, giving my question some serious thought.

Osborn: An air drawing?

MC: Dream on!

Osborn: Mercy, please. I beg you.

MC: It's too late to be begging me for mercy.

MC: Hmph. Just watch me improvise on the spot~

Just as I was rummaging through my brain for a glimmer of inspiration, a light bulb suddenly lit in my head. 

I had an image now: Mitt as it was fleeing.

❖☆———————————★❖

I leaned down, supporting myself on Osborn's shoulder. 

Following the curve of his jaw, I applied colour to his skin, drawing a colourful cat.

Osborn had his guard down, seemingly content to watch me work my "artistic talents" with him as the canvas.

The surroundings lapsed into silence.

I was drawing it on with such rapt concentration, yet I was still able to notice his long black lashes and hear his familiar steady breathing ever so clearly. I could somewhat feel the slight rise and fall of his chest.

I vaguely registered our close proximity to each other. My heart seemed unable to settle with the fact that we were so close to each other that our breaths intermingled, clamouring loudly within my chest.

I blinked twice, finishing off the last stroke before getting up and putting some distance between us.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: Done?

I nodded.

Osborn: What do you think of your work of art?

Huh? Is he asking me to rate my own work?

I quickly gave him a once over, only to realize that I'd been distracted at the end, so it'd turned out a little funky. I nearly laughed at it right then and there.

MC: Ahem. I think it's not bad! You've got a big kitty on you now!

He waggled his brows, lazily raising his body halfway back up. His features were suddenly enlarged before my eyes once more as he leaned closer.

Osborn: Happy now?

MC: Mmhm… Pretty happy.

Osborn: Then let me tell you something that'll make you even happier.

He moved even closer, his words gently flowing with the air, wrapping themselves around my ears.

I shuddered as a scalding heat started creeping up my neck.

MC: ...What is it?

Osborn: The other kitty's right behind you.

Mitt: Meow~ Meow~

The last of his words were drowned out by the sudden meowing that sounded.

I snapped out of the trance of the moment, much to my embarrassment. Mitt had actually slinked behind me somehow without my knowing!

MC: Right, we should hurry and catch it before it gets up to no good again!

I quickly climbed off Osborn, flushing red as I fled.

A light chuckle sounded behind me in response.

❖☆———————————★❖

By the time we found Mitt, it was already sprawled out beside the TV cabinet with its paws stuck underneath, fiddling with something in the gap.

Recalling the layout of his living room, I quietly tip-toed and whispered my idea into Osborn’s ear.

MC: I’ll take left, you take right. We’ll pincer it.

Osborn: It’s already here, so there’s no need to go through so much trouble.

MC: Huh?

Osborn: Just wait and see.

Osborn took a couple of long strides forwards in the direction of the cat.

I followed after him, quietly approaching the black cat. However, my attention was suddenly caught by the photo frame that the cat had just been playing with.

Picking up the frame, I carefully observed it…

In the picture were Osborn and a couple of familiar-looking teammates. They’d all had an arm around each other’s shoulder, beaming as they held the same trophy.

Their faces all look much younger… Is this a photo from years ago?

The race car in the background had a red and white body with an orange rear spoiler, similar to the car model that Mitt had batted off its perch earlier.

MC: Don’t tell me… Was that car model made based on this race car?

I was lost in thought when a sudden meow broke my train of thought.

Osborn: Still wanna run?

❖☆———————————★❖

I raised my head to see Osborn with both arms raised, gently holding up the cat in question.

The bright and warm sunlight shone in through the window, carefully outlining his chiselled side-profile and the contours of his muscles.

Although Mitt had already been caught, it still glared daggers at Osborn. It was as if a cat and a human were engaged in a silent battle with each other.

After a while, Mitt seemed to register the fact that it’d lost, meowing pitifully in that soft cry once more.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: Oh? You know how to beg for mercy now, don’t you?

Osborn carried Mitt to the little corner we’d set up for it. Mitt seemingly gave up on the game of chase, lowering its head to eat the cat food that we’d prepared for it since the very beginning.

Watching it eat its food so obediently, I couldn’t help but kneel down and stroke its round head.

Mitt cast a doubtful glance at me, but turned its head, indulging nuzzling itself into my palm.

MC: !

MC: I touched it! How cute…

Osborn: You’re that excited from just being able to touch it?

MC: Yeah. It looked so naughty that I thought I wouldn’t be able to touch it today.

Osborn: It’ll come running up to you for a lick or two so long as you have food.

MC: Then I MUST let it try the wet cat food! Maybe it’ll get closer to me!

I sped towards the sofa and picked up the packet of wet cat food, purposely waving it before its nose.

It couldn’t resist the offered temptation after all. Its soft fluffy paws batted at my wrist as it opened its mouth and cried its pleas.

MC: Okay, okay. Any more and you’ll end up a piggy.

I recalled something after putting away the remaining food. I picked up the photo frame that I’d set down earlier and handed it to Osborn.

MC: Oh, yeah. By the way, this was the photo frame that Mitt was batting with under the TV cabinet earlier. I don’t know where you normally display it.

He took the photo frame from me and glanced at it.

MC: And on that note, I realized that the car in the background looks very similar to the model we just pieced back together. Are they the same?

Osborn: Oh. The model was made according to this race car.

Suddenly, I recalled having seen the highlights of all his races before.

The year and month in which he’d won his first racing championship seemingly coincided with the time that this photo was taken.

My guess had tumbled out of my lips before I could stop it.

MC: Is this the car you drove when you won your first championship?

He quirked a brow.

Osborn: Why, you know me so well.

MC: Then… Is that car model something of a memento from that race?

Osborn: You can say that.

MC: I heard somewhere before that that car’s engine had to be changed out every two races. It shouldn’t be in use anymore, right?

Osborn: The engine exploded on me during that race, so it was only my companion once.

Osborn spoke lightly of it, but thinking of how exciting and terrifying it must have been back then, I couldn’t help but feel my heart sink a little.

MC: I’m glad the car model’s alright. Otherwise, it’d be such a pity for such a meaningful memento to get damaged like that.

Osborn: So I should thank you properly. Is that it?

MC: Huh? Thank me?

He chuckled lightly, his eyes sliding from the photo to my face. He had a slightly flippant look on his face.

Osborn: Weren’t you the one who made that car model more meaningful?

MC: ……

I was taken aback for a bit. I looked at him in surprise, only to find his gaze calm and gentle. There was a smile glimmering within his eyes.

Osborn: You were pretty clever when fixing the model. Why so stupefied now?

As his words sank in, I felt my heart flutter as I realized what he’d meant by having made it more “meaningful”. Something seemed to have filled my heart. It was a little flustering, yet also a little sweet.

I worried my lip and gathered my courage together before looking up to meet his eyes.

MC: Then, that makes me happier now…

MC: Although I didn’t get the chance to sit in on the race of your first championship and cheer you on…

MC: I was still able to piece the model back together and play a part in that precious moment of memory.

Inexplicable emotions surfaced in Osborn’s eyes, and in the next second, his big hand ruffled my hair with a vengeance.

Osborn: There’s really no helping you, is there?

I shyly ducked my head, but I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from rising.

At this moment, the sun had enveloped us both within its warmth.

The cat quietly ate by our feet, letting out a purr of satisfaction every once in a while.

Slowly but surely, unspeakable feelings started to bloom and spread within the confines of my heart.

I hope, from the deepest points of my heart, that time would always be eternally frozen in this beautiful moment.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Prologue)

[band--psycho]

The Only One Who Ever Could-Aragorn x Reader

‘So idk why this idea came upon me hahah I'm sorry it sounds so chaotic. But what if Sauron had a daughter he didn't know of? What if she's a strider herself, immortal one, and she falls for Aragorn as she helps to destroy her father and the ring. ‘ Request by one of my absolute faves @little-diable , It’s quite long, so I apologise..I got a bit carried away but I hope you enjoy this my love!❤️

Y/ns POV

 I felt like I was standing in the eye of a hurricane.Silence. that’s all that surrounded us, apart from the sound of the rain as it dreaily fell from the sky, it seemed somewhat apt considering what was about to unfold. My eyes looked out into the distance, locking on to the flickering flames of our enemies as they approached ever closer. I scanned over the faces of the men of Rohan only  to see fear and apprehension (which was entirely understandable), before my eyes landed on a young boy, no older than twelve. I couldn’t help but notice the little sparkle of hope that twinkled in his eyes. I wondered what he must’ve been thinking of, was it his parents? His siblings? His favourite memory from before the world began to darken? I had a few thoughts rushing through my brain as our enemies got even closer, the main one being Eowyns words from earlier, no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t seem to shift them from my mind. ‘You do not command the others to stay. They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you. Because they love you’, I doubt she knew how accurate her words were, nor how it sent a rush of jealousy straight to my heart. I do not know when it happened, I couldn’t pinpoint a day when I began to fall for Aragorn, it just gradually happened over the years we spent as Rangers together,  not that he knew. He was completely oblivious to how I truly felt, mainly because I’d never let him see it. Gimli and Legolas loved him like a brother, but me, I loved him in a different way all together, but I daren’t show him that. I wouldn’t risk the years of friendship we’d built. He deserved to be happy, with someone worthy of his love, maybe that was Eowyn. The other thought was a somewhat overwhelming feeling of dread, as I heard the clanking of metal and heavy footsteps draw near. We could all die here tonight. We Could die here tonight and he’d Aragorn would never know the truth, but maybe that was for the best. There was something oddly poetic about that, something that I thought could only ever be in stories, not in real life.And if we lost this battle, this world would fall back into the darkness it was in before. There would be no joy left in the world, my father would see to that but I was going to do everything in my power to make sure he didn’t crush the goodness that was still in this world.  I was dragged from my thoughts when I heard the shout of the Urukhai. This was it. Men, elves, a dunadaine, a dwarf and a maia, against at least ten thousand Urukhais. It was torture, stanidng there, listening to the Uruks growl as they taunted us with the sound of their weapons coliding with the ground or the hitting of their own armoud, again and again and again. At the sound of this, everyone on our side got their weapons ready. A sea of archers and swordsmen all awaiting the fight. Without warning an arrow was shot, hitting an Urukhai directly in the neck. As soon as its body hit the floor, there was a chorus of growls, signaling the beginning of the battle as they ran towards us. I took a deep breath, readying my daggers, before glancing over at Aragorn, my heart hammering in my chest as our eyes met and he gave me a quick and reassuring nod.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I felt my heart swell as I noticed the boy from earlier run straight into his mothers arms, a smile beaming on both of their faces. The odds had been stacked against us and if it wasn’t for Gandlaf and the Rohirim maybe our fate would’ve been different but by some miracle, we’d won. We’d won the battle. This one at least. There was an even bigger battle coming, we all knew it, but for now, I only felt relieved. My eyes landed on Aragorn as soon as he entered the room, I was going to go over and talk to him but I thought better of it when I saw Eowyn embrace him. So I limped off to a quieter part of the old fortress, where I didn’t have to pretend that seeing him with her didn’t break my heart. I was happy for him. Happy that he’d found someone in this world that could make him happy. I was foolish to think we could ever be anything more than good friends, after all being Saurons daughter wasn’t exactly helpful, not that I was anything like him, nor was I ever like him..but that type of a title is hard to shake off; That’s why I became a Ranger,  it was quite a lonely life, but I think sometimes we both preferred it that way, or we used to. The only reason we travelled together was because we both knew it was always better to have someone watching your back and neither of us wanted to become like the other members of our family. I knew the truth about him and he knew the truth about me, he accepted me, despite my  family; but I knew now that that was only as a friend, not as a lover.  

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

I was sitting in the quieter part of the fortress, dabbing the cut on the side of my leg lightly. At first, I thought it was just a small cut, while I was fighting I’d barely even noticed it, but that must’ve been the adrenaline clouding my mind because it was quite a deep cut. 

“You’re hurt,” Aragorn stated, catching me off guard entirely. 

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” I reassured, involuntarily wincing as I dabbed the cloth on the gash.

He sighed softly, shaking his head  as his hands gently grabbed the cloth from mine. “Let me.” If I had the energy maybe I would’ve argued, but I was too exhausted to even try, even if that meant allowing him to see the more vulnerable side of me I’d tried so desperately to hide over the years.  It was peculiar that his rough hands were so gentle as he cleaned and bandaged the cut, once it was done I expected him to go but he didn’t, he just stared at me like he was trying to work something out. 

“What?”I asked him, my voice full of confusion as he moved slightly, so he was now sitting next to me. 

“We could have died today,” he pointed out, staring off into the distance. 

“But we didn’t,” I reassured him, playfully nudging him. I saw a small smile creep onto his face, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived. 

“Aragorn? What’s wrong?” I asked him, wondering if this had something to do with the daunting realisation of the next battle. 

“I thought you’d died,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes continued to look out into the distance. “You were right behind me one second and then, I couldn’t see you anymore and I thought you’d died.” I knew exactly how he felt. When the Urukhai blew up part of the weaker part of the fortress, I thought he’d died. I tried so desperately to reach him but there were too many Urukhais surrounding me for me to get the chance.

I turned to him slightly, so I was now facing him, “But I didn’t and besides this cut, I’m perfectly-” before I got the chance to finish that sentence he crashed his lips onto mine.I didn’t know what to think, I was so confused, I thought he was with Eowyn. Before my mind got a chance to process what was happening, he pulled away, sadness filling his eyes as confusion filled my own. 

“Why do you look so confused?” he asked, avoiding my gaze.

“You’re with Eowyn and you just kissed me,” his gaze met mie as soon as I said those words. 

“I’m not with Eowyn,” He answered, furrowing his brows slightly. His answer made my heart begin to hammer in my chest. 

“You’re not?”

“No, I think she has feelings for me, but my heart belongs to somebody else already.” I knew it was wrong to feel as much joy as I did when he said those words, but I couldn’t help the small smile that came upon my face, giving away just how I really felt. 

“And who might that be? Who’s stolen the Rangers heart?” I asked coyly, my smile turning into a smirk. A chuckle escaped his lips as he pulled me closer towards him gently, minding the cut. 

“The only one who ever could,” he whispered, our lips now inches apart from eachother.I swallow his words with my lips and I can feel him let out a sigh of relief against my mouth as our lips molded together in perfect synchronicity. His lips were coarse, as I’m sure mine probably were but neither of us cared in that moment. In that moment all I could think about was him and how he’d made all my dreams from the past few years turn into a reality. 

Tagging: @glicabhainn00 @fizzyxcustard @gwen-ever @dumbassunderthemountain

[vtforpedro]

long, long health update - tw in tags please read them

I am going to speak very frankly about suicidal ideation; please don't read further if this is triggering for you ;3; but please know that I love you I had my follow-up appt with my neuropsych on monday to go over my results and whatnot. it was virtual, and I was in the middle of a head episode and I told her I wasn't doing well, but within about 5-10 minutes, she was saying I should probably go to the ER lkajflaj I guess it looked pretty bad lmao anyway I told her all the reasons I couldn't. medical trauma, being dismissed b/c I have doctors who manage my headaches, and I know it's not life-threatening even if it is 10/10 agonizing, so why are you here. they're so dismissive. she said that they have medication to possibly help break the cycle of constant migraines but I've been treated with those before and they didn't do shit migraines are secondary to iih. it's the iih that needs to be fixed ._. she said I still deserved to not suffer and that the ER is very strict about keeping covid patients away from other patients and I didn't have the heart to tell her they intubated a covid patient 10-15 feet away from me last time I was in an ER 😭 anyway so the results. she said she wasn't worried about anything going on that was concerning or indicating something wrong in my brain. I DID score quite a bit lower for someone my age on information processing (which is exactly what I said I was struggling with to my two neuros who were both like ehhh) and some issues with memory but they weren't super specific and so it could be something neurological, could be my migraines and constant agony lmao, could be my Emotional State. could be all of them at once, I suppose ;) she went into more detail about some of these things but it was the two questionnaires I filled out that were HNNN. so once all the data is entered from like 300 questions it shows a good look into my personality and perceptions and all that and it makes a cool little graph (OR SO I THOUGHT). the kind that looks like mountain peaks. so she points at the one that is waaay higher than the rest and nearly touching the top of the box and she's like 'do you see this one' me: yeah 😬 her: this is your feelings and ideations about suicide me: 😬 😩 😬 her: when I see a score this high, I stop what I'm doing and I call the police to have them escort you to a hospital me: 😬😬😬😬😬 her: but I didn't do that. because when we spoke in office you told me you felt this way and why you don't do it. you told me it's something you've lived with for a long time and the pain you are suffering is what makes it so bad. and I trust you me: 😭😭😭 okay her: do you see this line down here? this is people who have suicidal ideation recorded on this test. you scored 98% higher on suicidal ideation compared to people reporting suicidal ideation HNNNNNN. she said it probably wasn't surprising to me and asked me if I was safe again and all that. I assured her I was and said in my previous appointment; I've had suicidal thoughts since I was like 12? maybe earlier. there have been very few times in my life not surrounded by abuse and trauma so I'm never really free of it. I've had four traumatic incidents causing increasingly horrible episodes of ptsd in nine years. all through my 20s. still here woo, lol and she said she knew that and had a patient not long after my first appointment who had similar circumstances in their life. and they told her it's almost a comfort having it. cause I was saying it's in the back of my mind at all times and I won't do it, but yeah, it's always there. anyway she said they said the same thing; it's always there, always in the background as 'hey I'm an option!' even though we aren't going to harm ourselves. it's a comfort knowing there is an option even if we plan on never using it? idk it just spoke to me and I felt it in my soul we talked about some emotional stuff after and I cried and it was a thing. it felt really good to speak to a psychologist who, just as she was in the first appointment, seemed genuinely concerned and wanted to help

me. I told her I was ready for therapy and she said she'd already looked for therapists for me lkasjdlkja and gave me a group that I emailed yesterday. I don't think they'll take my insurance but she said to message her through the portal if they don't and she'll try to find someone who does I don't remember if I mentioned it, but since she knew about the head shit before I met her, she dimmed her office lights without asking if I needed it and like as soon as we started the virtual visit, she leaped up and dimmed them and said she should've thought about it before the appt 😭 (I keep my brightness really low on my computer and use the warming feature 24/7 on comp and phone and my apt is really dimmed but it still helped a lot when she did it) she kept saying 'you did nothing wrong. it was the choice of others to do what they did. you don't deserve to carry their choices. you deserve to be able to hand it back to them. you don't deserve to be in pain. you did nothing wrong. you deserve to be free of what they did and you deserve to not suffer in such physical pain' I'm so wary of doctors but I really like her and I feel fortunate to have been referred to her ;3; speaking for a long time and especially emotionally is hard for me, so I might try to do two sessions a month once I find a therapist and see if I'm ok with that. trying to keep everything virtual while delta is out there I read her report and her official diagnosis is uhh really strong for major depressive disorder, severe. and severe ptsd with disassociative symptoms so!!! I claimed both of those on my disability application and the person handling my claim told me when I had this appt to call and let her know because she wanted the info. I signed a release the day I was there when I told my neuropsych that cause MH stuff is different than other medical records. she said she faxed it to the woman handling my disability application but I was gonna call her and ask if she received it and also tell her I have a new neuro so she will probably request his stuff too I called today and her voicemail box is full so lol try again later today's been awful. last night was horrible. got a bill for over $800 from my colonoscopy/endoscopy even though I asked numerous times if insurance was covering it and was told yep, every penny. so I was on the phone with insurance and the surgery center for 45 minutes. insurance seemed confused af but the agent I spoke with got some help from people who handle this stuff I guess finally she told me not to pay it, they're going to send them a letter to get it sorted (idk if this means I won't have to pay it at all or if they're going to try to make it that way. but I think govt insurance, which is what I have, works differently. like doctors kinda have to follow what they say vs. the other way around) and not worry about it for the next 30 days. I'm still gonna worry about it lmao they used a nice scare tactic on the bill that this was the 'LAST AND FINAL NOTICE' despite the fact they've never sent me anything else. my mom and the insurance agent said nah that's just what they do to scare people into paying fuckin love america <3 land of the free. the american dream! greatest country on earth 💜🖕💜 I just don't want it to go to collections and have to fight credit bureaus to get it off my credit so it's not destroyed |: anyway my head hit like 10/10 bad while I was on the phone cause of the talking a lot and trying to PROCESS INFORMATION and stress and also the fucking hold music, which I have to hear in some way b/c I gotta know when they're back on the line hnnnnn bad day. it's 1pm and bad, bad, bad day. bad month all around. I want this shit to stop anyway. I'm sorry about the suicidal ideation talk, but it's important to talk about that stuff. it can get severe but it can also get better. it does, eventually, even if it comes and goes. it always does get better I'm sorry, I also really needed to get this down somewhere. feel like I'm going to explode emotionally AND physically and I need to talk about it. hopefully

soon I'll have a therapist to talk to so I can get a lot of this stuff worked on. got my whole life to chat about so it'll probably take a long time but I'm willing to let it lmao therapy doesn't usually work for me anymore but idk I've had a lot of shit happen in less than two years so maybe it will this time I'm trying! I really am trying if you read this rambling monster, thank you. love you all and please stay safe

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Weird q..but i really dont understand why most fans hate season 4, especially the last episode. Why? I think it gave us a deeper look on both sherlock and mycroft! I felt it tells a lot about mycroft how he had to step in and take control of things ever since he was a kid himself. Also he is not a robot or a killer. Also redbeard thing. It was an appropriate deep psychological trauma (cause most shows usually disappoint in that area). I am not trying to impose my opinion. Just want to understand

Hey Nonny!

It’s all good, and I totally respect your opinion and how you enjoyed S4! It’s totally okay! I know that there are quite a few who got a lot of of S4, and who genuinely enjoyed it.

Sadly, I am not one of those people, and I’ll try to be as diplomatic a possible in my response, but PLEASE know that I don’t think you’re “terrible” or “stupid” for liking S4 because I DO get passionate sometimes in my responses, and I’m just merely speaking as someone who studied the series very closely for quite a long time before S4 aired, and as someone who knows Day-One-ers (ie., people who watched Sherlock on its day one airdate) who also are a large majority of the people who did not like S4. This is just me simply stating why I didn’t like it, but it’s different for everyone.

Stating what I DO like: The acting and cinematography of the first two episodes were brilliant for what they had to work with, and I’ve never faulted any of the actors for the flaws of S4. And for TFP, they did the best with what they had to work with.

That’s… pretty much all I really liked about S4.

Now, here’s my problems with S4:

Nothing made a LICK of sense to the narrative that they were telling in Seasons prior. 

This series was always based a bit in reality, and suddenly everything became comic-book rules: X-Men villains, shitty “redemption” arc, destroying favourite characters just for drama, ludicrous physics, explosions that only destroyed one small room in an apt where in previous episodes one explosion destroyed an entire block, etc.

Sherlock was OOC.

Mary was being built up to be a fantastic villain? Ah, nope, here’s the lacklustre twist where tee hee Mary’s just an assassin with a heart of gold that still emotionally abuses Sherlock and John and just won’t fucking stay dead.

And speaking of this, the DVD’s make NO LOGICAL SENSE unless she was planning to kill herself

AND she tries to make her death equatable to Sherlock’s??

Everyone was RIDICULOUSLY out of character in TFP, I’m so sorry: Mycroft is a bumbling coward for the most part, Sherlock disregards John when he gives the Vatican Cameos warning, the Holmes Parents are assholes because Mycroft COULDN’T SOLVE A PROBLEM WHEN HE WAS 12?? ARE YOU SERIOUS???? And that creepy Moriarty / Eurus thing, and LITERALLY they’re implying that EVERYTHING HAPPENED BECAUSE EURUS DIDN’T GET A HUG. Like, I’m so sorry, but that’s lazy writing.

And don’t even get me started on the ridiculousness of the entire character of Eurus. She LITERALLY had X-Men powers, and like… just nothing made sense. Her involvement in the entirety of S4 MADE NO SENSE. Why go back to prison if you can get out?? WHAT IS THE POINT?? AND I repeat: She did all this because she didn’t get a hug. Yes. I’m oversimplifying, but at the base level, that’s what it was, because she wanted Sherlock’s attention. Welcome to the club, kid, stand in line, everyone on the SHOW wants his attention.

The ENTIRE plot of the first 2 seasons got wiped out all because it wasn’t Moriarty who was interested in Sherlock, but Eurus?? What… What about Carl Powers?? Like…. the ENTIRETY of season one and TGG makes no sense now, because of that one 5 minute scene where Eurus “enlists” Moriarty. I… ugh.

The SUDDEN tonal switch from kind-of Sherlock to James Bond, for some fucking reason.

And on that note, how terribly lazy and cheap TFP looks in comparison to the other two episodes. The whole episode looks like it was filmed in a small house with 4 identical rooms.

EVERYTHING that was etablished in 2 episodes prior were COMPLETELY forgotten when Mary was “shot”.

The complete character assassination of one loyal blogger John H Watson in favour of Mary for some fucked up reason, even though AT HIS OWN WEDDING HE COULDN’T STAND BEING AROUND MARY. I’m sorry, but I don’t believe for one damned second that John would EVER forgive Mary for murdering his best friend after seeing what it did to him. That’s not love from her, and that’s NOT John’s character EVER in the ENTIRETY of the series.

And speaking of character assassinations, Molly’s character being devolved to S1E1 Molly, where instead of giving her agency like they were doing with her the ENTIRE series, so much so that Sherlock picked up on her dominance enough to give her a big role in his mind palace in HLV and TAB, only to make her a sad little self-insert Mary Sue pining for the main character, and in turn made Sherlock a TERRIBLE human being for MAKING HER say what she did. It’s gross.

AND speaking of Molly’s character, they’ve been setting up Mollstrade since as early as ASiB, but I guess that plot line got shafted. Look I LOVE Hopkins, and I am ANGRY they didn’t give her more than 3 fucking lines in the entirety of ONE episode after HEAVILY promoting her actress and character, but they essentially reduced her to a piece of ass for Lestrade to chase. AND THAT’S NOT HIS CHARACTER EITHER. EW GROSS.

The constant plot holes being gaped wide open, and the Chekov’s gun moments where they bring up shit but do nothing with it!! 

TD-12? Nope, just a lame reference to a story we like. 

John got shot at the end of TLD with a VERY REAL FUCKING GUN? Nope, it was a dart gun. 

John not suddenly knowing how to be a doctor.

The TGG one I mentioned up above. 

What was in the letter? And who was Anyone??

Moriarty essentially being erased as anything other than a hired thug and had no part whatsoever in Sherlock’s history. 

Eurus… Just all of her character is asinine. 

Everyone in T6T suddenly not knowing John’s the blogger, which is in direct contradiction to literally the entire series. 

The AGRA plotline was ridiculous, in the end.

Baby? What baby? It was only there when convenient.

They dropped whatever plotline they were going to do for Mycroft: He was being set up as either dying, or the villain.

Redbeard. I’m sorry, I disagree with you on that. Mofftiss is trying to tell me that a little boy fell down a well and went missing, and that WASN’T the first place searchers / the police wouldn’t have looked? Sorry, no. And then. AND THEN his parents just… go along with this thing where Sherlock shuts down and they DON’T get him therapy? Yes, I agree the mind is a funny thing, and we can be traumatised into forgetting or dissociating from traumatic events. I GET IT. But… like I don’t believe the Holmes are so heartless as to just never grieve or have memories around about their supposedly dead daughter. It’s another OCC thing for me.

John’s cheating.

Disappearing and reappearing characters, like this scene, and the entirety of the aquarium scene.

Mary and John being terrible parents

OH GOD THIS FUCKING SCENE. That bomb SHOULD HAVE DESTROYED THE ENTIRE BUILDING.

What… who was this girl on the plane? What? Like I know WHO, but if she’s supposed to be Eurus talking to Sherlock, why don’t we see Eurus… talking to Sherlock? I … Ugh.

NORBURY. 

The glass SUPER SECRET GOVERNMENT ROOM THAT NO ONE SHOULD SEE INTO in T6T.

Sloppy camera work that some believe was intentional, but if it wasn’t, jesus c’mon.

The RIDICULOUS amount of 4th Wall Breaking. Like… even the actors didn’t give a shit.

Essentially, everything on this list here and in this blog tag here.

And everything mentioned on these three posts:

T6T: 10 Revealing Things That Haunt You Late at Night 

TLD: 10 Revealing Things That Haunt You Late at Night

TFP: 10 Revealing Things That Haunt You Late at Night

There’s SO much more I can go into, but please go through my “something’s fucky” tag in that last link.

Notice how probably 90% of that has NOTHING to do with “johnlock not becoming canon” because the Johnlockers get MONSTROUS accusations as to THAT being why we didn’t like S4, even though it was, like critically panned by the GENERAL AUDIENCE who have NO investment in the series other than “I liked it in the past”.

Two of my fave YouTubers have interesting (not perfect, but still good) takes coming at the series as casual viewers:

‘The Day Sherlock Died’ by The Closer Look

‘Sherlock is Garbage, and Here’s Why’ by hbomberguy

So it’s NOT just Johnlockers. I’ve talked to Sher1011ies at 221B con who didn’t like S4 either, because most of them realized how shitty Molly was treated in the last episode. So yeah, a big middle finger to those who think I dislike S4 because of  “no Johnlock”. No, I disliked it because I need my stories to make logical narrative sense. I disliked it because I love John and they ruined his character all for the sake of drama and because Moffat has a “hurting Ben” kink. I disliked it because Mary should NOT have been “redeemed” because she was an abuser. I disliked it because Moriarty was turned into a cartoon villain, even though he was already overused in the series. I disliked it because the core of the show – the FRIENDSHIP of Sherlock and John, and their solving mysteries together – did not exist at all. I disliked it because John got sidelined. I disliked it because TFP was a ridiculous episode that, if you replace ANY of the characters, it wouldn’t make a difference, because it didn’t feel like an episode of Sherlock. I disliked it because everyone was OOC.

Anyway. Sorry. One too many accusations my way over the past 1100+ days LOL.

As for your assessment of TFP, I’m going to have to respectfully disagree with you. There was no growth and actually it implies something far more sinister: That the Holmes are and were terrible parents that gave no shits about their daughter, their traumatized son, and expected their eldest to essentially be a parent. It implies that Mycroft, at 12 years old, orchestrated the ENTIRE Sherrinford thing… Look I can suspend my disbelief, but there’s limits, and this is one of them. A LITERAL CHILD. Perhaps Uncle Rudy had a hand in it somehow, but then why not shit on Uncle Rudy? Why is Mycroft blamed for it all?

Look, I don’t doubt Sherlock had a traumatic experience regarding “Redbeard”. But then why play into the fact that he was a dog? Why bring another character into the series just to have a gotcha moment? Because Mofftiss wanted a “Shyamalan twist”, that’s why. They threw EVERYTHING away for a twist ending either because they GENUINELY thought it was good, or they got tired of doing Sherlock. ALL of TFP is LITERALLY a really bad plot twist because reasons. TFP makes no sense to the ENTIRE narrative structure of the previous 12 episodes. It erased EVERYTHING from the previous episodes, and coated it with a gross closing by a character no one wanted in the series, and then tried to convince us that it’s a new beginning – “a journey they had to go through” – but it SOLVED NOTHING.

Anyway. I have big feels about S4, and the only way I can enjoy it is to watch it subtextually, but even then, I cannot sit through TFP without cringing. 

That said, Lovelies, please do not attack Nonny for enjoying S4! I know you guys won’t, but Nonny came out with an olive branch and they just want to understand why the fandom is passionate about S4′s… whatever it was. We can have a civil discussion about it, and point out – without attacking – why S4 is universally panned. It’s okay to like things no one else does, and Nonny was respectful to me in this ask! 

So with that, feel free, lovelies, to express why YOU didn’t enjoy the series, or why you did! I’m interested in both “sides” / pov’s whatever :)

[raevenlywrites]

The Ties That Bind 12 of ???

Rei and I held hands as we emerged from the dark into--more dark. Zane had promised the  rsh  wasn’t as dim inside as it seemed, but I missed the sun. And I was grateful for Rei’s hand in mind as we moved through the tight press of netting and vines.

There was an uncanny beauty to it, this joining of intention of happenstance, a closeness that I might have found comforting if I hadn’t felt so stifled already. Rei’s hand seemed too thick and hot in mine, but I stuck close to him anyways, unnerved by the walls of the  rsh . They seemed to slither and switch, and it wasn’t until we rounded a corner back into the main room that I realized their movement came from the shifting shadows cast by a dancing flame.

Once a fire was lit in the central room, the entire space transformed. Where net and leaf began became much clearer, because the nets, I could now see, had once been bright, vibrant colors. Time had dulled them, and I could only imagine the brilliant jewels they must have once been, however long ago.

They say our peoples have been at war for over two thousand years.

They also say the falcon empress Cjarsa is older still than that.

It seems petty to doubt such magic when I myself have knit closed minor wounds with only the power of my voice and prayer. But surely, surely, some myths need not to be true. I didn’t want to believe our war was that old. And I didn’t know what to make of an empress that was supposed to remember a time we knew peace, but did next to nothing to help us return to it.

 Zane startled me from my thoughts, even as my mind played back the last few seconds and realized I had noticed my guards shift around me and had simply dismissed it. It wasn’t  Zane  startling me, it was the interruption from my introspection in general.

 “It’s eerie, isn’t it?” he asked, gazing at the wall and not me. “There’s a  rsh  just like this on the edges of the marketplace, with a central room just like this one, but...”

 He trailed off, dropping the hand he’d been reaching out to a broken twist of net. It amazed me how it still stood at all, and I said as much.

 “This one is more vine than net, I think,” he said carefully. “It takes time and patience to grow up walls like this. And even more to bring them back down.”

 I humphed under my breath.

 “Everyone keeps talking around me lately, in pretty metaphors--or obvious ones.”

 He turned wide eyes to me and I gave him back what I hoped was a single arched brow. It was a difficult expression to master, without screwing up the rest of my face to be comical. Apparently it was effective though, or Zane was being polite at my failure when he smiled with a soft shake of his head.

 “That one was for me, actually. If you feel the tearing down walls metaphor is apt for yourself as well, then hopefully it means we’ll be able to find more common ground before the week is out.”

 My stomach dropped at the reminder that I was expected to stay here, with him--and Rei--for an entire week. It had seemed like such a good idea at the farmhouse, staring into the triumphant face of Alasdair.

 “You said your dancers dance around the sign of the Anhleh,” I said, not caring how obviously I was changing the subject. “Do you think there’s one intact here, or...” I gestured lamely at the walls. Zane gave me another humoring smile.

 “This nest is dead, a relic. I’m afraid if you want to see serpiente dance before the Anhleh you’ll have to come back with me to sha’Mehay.”

 It was only my blood running cold that kept my cheeks from flushing. The terror at the thought of willingly entering the heart of the serpiente palace cooled any embarrassment at the thought that I might have been asking him to dance, here and now.

 You want to do this here, now? Rei’s voice echoed in my head and the blush won out. Zane chuckled.

 “Is the thought of merely watching others dance too much for you, pretty Danica? I knew hawks were prudes but--”

 “I’m not a prude!” I snapped, and instantly regretted it. Softer voices could be politely ignored in this close space. Quiet shouting could not.

 I felt Rei crowd closer behind me and suddenly wanted out of this hole in the ground.

 “Rei,” I ground from between my teeth, “you  cannot  hover over me all week. I meant what I said to Erica, and I’ll say it again to you too. I don’t need a soldier, I need a guard. Go fly a scouting circuit, see how obvious the smoke from that fire is above the trees.”

 It was almost certainly the wrong thing to say. But he met my orders with a tight, “Yes, Shardae,” and gave me the space I so desperately needed. Now if only I could order myself up and into the sun.

 Zane was studying my face, and didn’t have the manners to try to disguise it when I turned back to him. Or maybe it was a cultural thing. Maybe serpiente just openly stared at everyone. Either way, my emotions were too wrung out for niceties anymore. I’d spent the better part of a week either traveling or trapped in fruitless arguments, and I just needed a  break .

 “This is the most emotion I’ve ever seen from you,” Zane commented before I could speak. “It’s a shame it’s all tense and jagged like this. I have a feeling you’d have a lovely aura in more pleasant times.”

 At that, I could only blink.

 “W-wha?”

 Zane did that sad smile, headshake thing that was definitely starting to seem like his go to cover up for laughing at me.

 “In our scaled form, serpents taste heat. Life. Alive-ness. Like this, I can still taste your heartbeat, smell the sticky sharp closeness of panic on the back of my tongue--“

 “That’s disgusting,” I said, nearly sick from the thought of it. How could serpiente stand to be so close to one another if they were so aware of each other’s bodies?

 “It’s a metaphor,” he said lightly, colder than he’d been a moment before. “We sense it with a sense that isn’t taste or smell or touch, but it's like trying to describe a song to the deaf. I can hold your hand, tap out the beats, but you still miss the soaring of the melody, the finer notes that make it music and not just sound.”

 I nodded, contrite at having offended him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”

 He sighed. “It’s quite alright. I can only imagine it will be the first of many.”

 Something about that made me unspeakably sad. So sad that it changed my “taste” apparently, because Zane reached out for me, to brush my arm I think. But of course Erica was there, and I finally lost my temper completely.

 “Enough!”

 I snatched Zane’s hand in mine, earning startled cries from everyone in the room, even Adelina. I raised our joined hands and shook them, like brandishing a weapon.

 “Zane and I are going to touch. Zane and I are going to be close, because Zane and I are  trying  to have private conversations. If one more person comes within a foot of me without my express invitation I am going to send them home. So help me I will sit in his lap if that’s what it takes to get you all to  stand down .”

 Abruptly, I became  aware  of the fact that I was holding Zane’s hand, that I had taken it without his permission, and that the whole room was staring at us. I squeezed his hand tighter, not knowing how to get off this metaphorical dias.

 Zane squeezed back.

 “It’d be almost worth it to call your bluff,” he muttered, but then said to the larger group, “Is there something we can do to help make you all more comfortable? Among my people, we have elaborate rules and traditions for guests, and I do consider you all my guests, even as I consider myself yours. In my house, I would offer you food and drink, and you would know that no harm would come to you unless violence was offered. What is the way of it in the Keep?”

 In the Keep, violence was absolutely unheard enough. We had enough of that on the fields, on the training grounds. There was no violence in the Keep because it was our refuge from such things.But that wouldn’t help us here.

 “We are held by our word,” Raymond said. I startled, almost having forgotten the quiet raven in the press of so many louder personalities. “Words spoken by or to the Tuuli Thea have power, real power, especially in the halls of our Keep. I do not know how such oaths would hold you, but it is what we would do, if we felt the need.”

 Zane nodded. “We have our own words, codes of conduct, contracts.” He turned to me, pulling our hands closer to our chests.

The Ties That Bind Tag list: @thehellinsideyourhead @therecouldbecolorsandlove @adventuresofacreesty @writing-with-melon @rainydaydarling

Raev’s Gen Tag List (should I tag you guys in this? It IS a thing I wrote. I’m gonna say yes unless you guys are like “no of course not we’re sick of hearing about your stupid fic for a twenty year old book XD)

No one has complained yet so yall gonna keep getting tagged :P

List is currently: @lordkingsmith @writinglyra @drbibliophile @mperialscribe @adie-dee @adie-dee @lexiklecksi @writinginslowmotion @raenawrites @apollon-arium @anika-writes

[the-lupine-sojourner]

The Tale of Astoria Kenobi [Chapter 2] [Obitine and Anidala Featured] [Dad!Obi-Wan/Daughter!OC]

Sorry I forgot this last night! Anyway, here it is! 

Y’all have @sunshineisdelightful​ to thank for, honestly, pretty much all the scenes in this chapter lol. 

Sunshine (apt username cus they’re so sweet!) mentioned some fantastic ideas and I ended up using about all of them in this chapter. XD 

So next chapter will skip to her Gathering and then it’ll be her hearing about Obi-Wan and Anakin’s adventures protecting Amidala and she really wants to go to Kamino with her ‘uncle’ but she can’t. 

And then Plo Koon is like ‘wanna be my Padawan?’ and Astoria’s like ‘yes please!’ and is so thrilled that such a wise, powerful Counsel Member would offer to train her in the Jedi Arts. 

Anyway! Tag list! :) A huge thank you to all of these people! @elite-guard-hardygal, @forcearama, Sunshine, who I tagged already, @fwtcanimelover​, and @babycollectiondragon135 (I can’t tag you! TT^TT) are all amazing people! If you want to be included in the taglist please just let me know! 

Last thing is Links. Chapter 1 Link and the Prologue Link

Now, let’s get to the chapter!

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

I’ve been here at the Temple five years now, and I still haven’t managed to quite master meditation. 

I try my best, but though I make some progress, I never get to the point the instructor describes. I’ve never felt the Force around me like he says I should. 

It’s embarrassing and no amount of tutoring by Uncle Obi seems to be helping.

Try as I currently might, the end result is failure.

“I just don’t get it!” I groan, flopping on the ground in frustration. 

I was trying yet again to understand what Uncle Obi was talking about, but nothing helps. 

“Astoria, flopping around and getting frustrated isn’t helping.” 

“If you say I need to ‘clear my mind and let my emotions go’ one more time, I’m going to smack you.” I grumble without thinking, sitting up and crossing my arms grumpily. 

“I should like to see that.” He teases, chuckling.

“Sorry, Uncle Obi.” I murmur, sobering. “I just...it’s frustrating I still can’t get this.” 

Obi-Wan sits beside me, chuckling and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “You want to know something?” He asks. 

“What?” 

“When I look into your connection to the Force, and follow it into your core, I see a bright ball of energy, giving off wild, unfocused waves of light. It’s almost stronger than the connection I see in Anakin.” 

“Really?” 

“Almost.” He scoots me around to face him. “I want to help you, Astoria, believe me. In fact, I could calm your mind myself so your connection to the Force will be clearer. But, if I do that, I risk hurting you and your connection to the Force, and that I will not do. So, we have to take the long way, but we’ll get there.” 

I manage a smile. “Thanks, Uncle Obi.” 

“Now, shall we try one more time before bed?” 

I sigh. “Yeah, just once more.” 

This was one of my favorite times of the day, when my adopted uncle and I can just talk and enjoy each other’s company, even though in the presence of other Jedi I have to call him Master Kenobi. 

For the first year, I was allowed an adjustment period where the Counsel let some things slide, like informal names and my energy, but after the year ended, they then began to curb those habits and hold me to the standards of the other Younglings. 

I was grateful for the adjustment period and am doing my best to live up to the expectations of the Counsel, which made it all the more frustrating that I couldn’t grasp meditation yet.

=#=#=#=#=

“Oh, sorry Master Windu!” I mumble, scooting out of his way after nearly running into him rounding a corner. 

“Eyes forward, Youngling.” He replies, not unkindly. 

“Yes, Master.” I intone respectfully. He surprises me by turning back curiously. 

“Were you headed to meditation?” He asks. 

I shift sheepishly. “I’ve got a private lesson from Master Yoda. Seems he’s noticed my repeated failures.” 

“Way I see it, the only thing he sees is your potential. Don’t be harsher on yourself than those around you, young one.” He says, surprising me with his gentle tone.

I nod, feeling better. “Thank you, Master Windu.” He nods and I bow my head in farewell. “I’ll be off now.” 

“May the Force be with you, Astoria.” He says and I’m shocked he remembers my name. 

A very high-ranking Jedi master remembered my name! 

I walk down the hall, giddy. 

“Something to celebrate, hmm?” Yoda asks, amused, when I walk into the meditation room he was in, noticing my wide smile. 

I sit across from him. “Well, it’s just...it’s silly. Let’s start.” 

“Meditation, you will not learn if clouded your mind is, little one.” Yoda replies, smiling and tilting his head. “What distracts you, hmm?” 

“I almost ran into Master Windu. He gave me a bit of advice and remembered my name. I shouldn’t have let it distract me, Master. I’m sorry.” 

“No error it is to find pleasure in small matters, but distractions, they should not become. Now, begin, we can, hmm?” 

“Yes, Master Yoda.” Together, we begin to breathe deep and quiet our minds (or try to, in my case). 

“Your mother, cloud your thoughts, she does.” Yoda muses. 

“Well...she seems stressed lately. Worried about something. She never talks about what’s really going on on Mandalore. I can’t help being curious.” I reply, feeling childish. 

“Allowed contact with their families Jedi are, but one must learn balance. Detach yourself from your training, you cannot.”

I flinch subtly, biting my lip. “I won’t, Master. I’m sorry I’ve been a bit distracted lately.” 

The meditation practice had dissolved into a lecture. 

Great. Master Windu was wrong; Yoda only wanted to scold a failing Youngling.

“Failing, you are not. Succeeding, you are not. Only trying, you are.” Yoda says as if he had read my thoughts.

For all I knew, he had read them like a book.

I frown. “What does that mean, Master?” I ask. 

“Do or do not, young Astoria. There is no try.” 

“Master, I’m just not getting meditation.” I point out. “I’ve been going to classes and practicing with Master Kenobi when he can help me, but nothing’s working.” 

“Clouded and stormy your emotions are. Never learn meditation you will, if these emotions, settled they are not.” 

“Yes, Master.” I bite my lip. “It’s just...I guess I’m not sure how to settle my emotions.” I confess. 

Something about Master Yoda made me want to truly open up to him. So I did. 

“Learn to let go you must.” Is his calm, enigmatic reply.

“What do you mean?” I ask, not understanding. 

“Means do not concern yourself with things you cannot change, it does. Relax your mind and it will become calm and clear.” 

And so Yoda and I begin trying to calm my emotions. 

It sorta works, and soon enough I’m released to combat class. 

My favorite! I’m ahead of the Younglings in my group in combat, actually. 

I try not to let myself be too aggressive and competitive, but it’s really hard. 

I wish they’d let us fight with actual lightsabers, not the low-powered youngling sabers we use, but I suppose that’s too dangerous right now. 

I can’t wait to get my lightsaber crystal and make my hilt! 

=#=#=#=#=

“Little Astoria, that move was rather reckless.” Plo Koon calls from the sidelines of the class. 

He sometimes oversaw training from the sides and would call out advice to any struggling Youngling. 

“Sorry, Master!” I call back, blocking a swing and swinging my leg to trip my opponent up. I then point my practice saber at the boy I was dueling. I think his name is Roman, but I can’t remember.

“I yield.” He says, annoyed that he lost...again. I turn off my blade and extend a friendly hand. 

“You’re improving.” I note as I help him up. 

“How are you so good at this?” He asks. 

I shrug. “I’m not sure. I just...know what to do.” 

Plo Koon strides over as the instructor dismisses the class. “In some ways, Astoria, your connection to the Force is instinctive and clear, but in others...you lack discipline and focus.” 

I shuffle my feet as Roman awkwardly walks off. “I know, Master Plo, but...I just can’t seem to understand meditation like I can combat.” 

“One day this mystery will be solved, young one, but you must continue practicing and learning what you can from your lessons. Never give up when the path before you becomes uncertain.” 

“Yes, Master.” I reply. “I am trying.” He puts a hand on my shoulder and I think, if I could see his whole face, I’d see a smile.

“I know you are, and one day you will master it. Astoria, I believe that when you master your connection to the Force, you will become quite an impressive Jedi Knight.” 

I grin and automatically hug him. “Thank you, Master Plo!” I cheer. The Jedi were getting used to my hugs by now and Plo Koon even returns the hug with one arm before gently peeling me off.

“Come along, young one, or we’ll miss our lunch.” I nod and skip down to lunch. 

I may dislike the food, but I’ve learned ways of coping with that. 

Every once in a while, when a Jedi went out to do a bit of shopping for basic essentials, I would ask to go with them. 

Usually, that meant a pleasant trip with Master Kenobi as he shopped for things like soap and toiletries and I got to get some fruit and actually flavorful food. 

I’d also grab a few spices like salt and pepper to liven up the bland food they serve at the Temple. 

That food was grating on my nerves, but at least I had some ways to combat the lack of flavor. 

In fact, Master Fisto needed to pick up some special lotion or something so his skin doesn’t get too dry being out of water for so long. We had pools and things in the Temple, but he couldn’t be in them as much as he’d like. I’ll ask if I can go with him after lunch. 

=#=#=#=#=

“Master Fisto, may I have a word?” I ask, jogging to catch up to him. 

He turns with his trademark broad smile, even crouching a little to be at my eye level. “Of course, my little friend.” He replies. “What can I help you with?” 

“I was wondering if I could go with you to the marketplace today. I know you need lotion and I would like to get some more salt and pepper.” 

“The food is not to your tastes, I take it?” He teases with a smirk. 

“Well, not exactly. The food’s alright, but with salt and other spices, it’s a bit better.” 

He laughs, patting my back cheerily and nearly making me fall over. “I feel the same way, young one. I’ll let you come.” 

“Yay! Thank you, Master” I cheer, jogging to my room to grab the tiny allowance Younglings were given each month for whatever basics they needed. 

Master Fisto and I leave side by side. “It’s always refreshing to step out of the Temple, is it not?” He asks. 

I nod. “Yeah. I like it here, believe me, but it is also nice to get out every once in a while.” 

“Come, let us get to business.” He calls, walking toward the small speeder that would take us to the marketplace. 

“If I may, why don’t you spend more time in the pools and gardens if you’re from an aquatic planet?” I ask tentatively, coming to stand beside the Jedi Master. 

“Well, I am a member of the Council. I have many duties that require my attention.” 

“Oh.” I reply. “I was just curious.” 

“Never let yourself feel bad for merely asking a question, Astoria.” He says gently. “Curiosity has led to many, many great inventions and discoveries.” 

I nod. “Thanks, Master Fisto.”

“Of course, Astoria. Ah, here we are!” He cheers when we arrive at the marketplace. “You typically come with...Master Kenobi, that right?” He asks. 

I nod. “Yes. He’s close friends with my mother, and I enjoy his company as well.” I reply carefully, not understanding why he was asking or smiling so broadly. 

“I see. No shame in that. Come, we’ll hurry along and be back in time for your meditation lesson.” 

I groan. “Yes, Master.” 

“Do not think of this as punishment, Astoria. We are merely trying to help.” 

“I know, Master, but I’m just not getting it!” 

“That right there is why you fail.” 

“I don’t understand.” I confess. 

“Astoria, you view meditation as a block on your path that you cannot get past. That is why you fail.” My frown remains. I had no idea what he meant. “You need to start looking at it as a challenge to overcome, that can be overcome. If you look at it like that, you will be able to reach your potential that much sooner.” 

I hum in thought then sigh. “Why is it I can rise in combat so easily, but stumble at meditation?” I ask. 

“That, only you can answer, Astoria. But think on my words and the path forward will become clear.” I nod, absently side-hugging him as we near the spice store. 

“Thank you again, Master.” I say, then wave to him as we go separate ways to gather our supplies. 

“I’ll meet you at the transport in twenty minutes.” 

I nod and enter the store. 

“Ah, Astoria, my favorite little customer.” The store clerk greets. He was a human, like me, I think from the same planet as Uncle Obi, But I can’t remember for sure. 

“Hello, Gastor.” I reply, walking automatically to the salt section. 

“Ah, those are brand-new. Put ‘em out this morning.” He says when I grab a small container of a spice mix. It held a lot of good spices with the salt as the main component. I like the look of it, but it’s fairly expensive, so I reluctantly put it back. “I could cut you a deal since you come in so frequently.” Gastor muses idly, noting my interest before I put it back. 

“No, but thank you, Gastor. I might be back for it later, but for now I must say goodbye.” I retort lightly, pretending to be emotional. 

“Trust you to get attached to spices.” Gastor fires back and I pretend to be insulted, hand over my heart as I move further back toward the other spices. 

I hear other customers come in, and feel something...unsettling. I don’t know what, but I know something’s amiss. 

“Hello, Gastor.” Somes a slithery voice I immediately distrust. I sneak a little closer and see a tough-looking Twi’lek man and a few other thugs I can’t place. 

“Look, I’m just waiting on one last shipment, then your order will be ready.” Gastor pleads, and I instantly am on guard, creeping nearer. I still had time to deal with these goons, buy the spices, and maybe even pick up some shampoo and conditioner as well before meeting Master Fisto at the speeder. 

Taking a breath, grabbing a container of standard salt and pepper with granulated garlic and onion mixed in, I walk toward the counter. 

“Ah, are you, er, ready to check out, miss?” Gastor says, and it’s clear he is uneasy, sweating as he glances between the thugs and me anxiously. 

“Oi! We were here first!” The Twi’lek growls. 

I notice a small blaster in his hand and a knife in the other. 

“I’m sorry, but as your order is not yet ready- -” Gastor says placatingly.

“Get it ready!” The man interrupts angrily. 

“Sir, he said it’s not ready. That’s it. Check back later. I’ve gotta get- -” I’m suddenly grabbed by one of the other thugs (maybe a man from Florum, but maybe not), fingers tight around my throat, and hauled into the air. 

As I choke, I begin to feel something pooling in my gut, in my core, even, like a coiled spring. 

I instinctively trigger it and find myself suddenly sure of what to do. 

I feel a wave begin at my core, expanding outward and suddenly I am let go and the thugs, as well as Gastor, are pressed against the wall. 

I take a breath and release the wave and they fall. 

Despite being excited by what I had just done (wasn’t that the Force I just used to push these thugs back?), I walk calmly forward. I wasn’t quite done with them. “Gastor here said your order wasn’t finished.” I begin. “So you will return home to wait patiently for it and return when he tells you it is ready. I hear of you bothering him again, and I will not hesitate to return.” 

The thugs cower away from me. “What’re the Jedi doing here?” I hear one whimper as they take off running, bumping into each other trying to get out of the door. 

“You’re training to be a Jedi?” Gastor asks, breathless in shock. 

I nod. He’d never asked and I never volunteered that information. 

Uncle Obi says it’s not the Jedi way to broadcast who we are. We are humble servants of the Republic and peacekeepers. That is all. 

“Sorry I didn’t tell you. We’re not supposed to broadcast it.” I explain and hand him the credits needed for the seasonings. 

“That’s alright. I should have guessed. You’re wearing Jedi robes, after all.” 

I chuckle. “Assumptions often lead us astray, Gastor. Anyway, thanks for the seasonings. I use it on my food at the Temple.” I lean in conspiratorially. “They don’t season their food at all. It tastes so bland!” 

Gastor laughs and shoos me away. “Well, don’t let me keep you away from the Temple any longer. And thank you for your assistance with those pests. They come in demanding cheap spices in bulk. I can’t keep this up.” 

I sigh. “They should leave you alone, but tell me if they come back when I restock.” I call over my shoulder and wave as I leave. 

I spot Master Fisto a ways away. The shop with the lotion was the same shop I got my shampoo and conditioner, so I walk over to him. 

“There you are. Did you find suitable spices?” He asks. 

“Yes, I did.” I reply. I felt the news of my use of the Force bubbling up, but something told me it might be better to wait til we were back at the Temple. 

“Good. We’ll pick up the last things we require and return before we’re missed.” Fisto says and I jog lightly over to the bottles of hair products, grabbing the ones I typically use. It was nothing fancy, just cheap products to serve their purpose. Plus, they were very cheap. 

Once Master Fisto and I are through with our purchases, we walk together toward our transport. “There’s something you want to tell me.” Mastesr Fisto muses, chuckling. “What happened in the spice shop?” Somehow it doesn’t surprise me that he already knew something happened in the spice shop. “I saw a few men running from there in terror. Did you see something that happened?” It’s clear he’s teasing, but I humor him. 

“A Jedi stopped them harassing the shop owner, apparently,” I reply. “but I didn’t see them.” 

Fisto laughs, dropping the facade. “Well done, Astoria. It seems you finally unlocked another aspect of your connection to the Force.” 

I nod. “Thank you, Master. They were demanding spice for far cheaper than the owner was selling. I convinced them that wasn’t a good idea. I...don’t know how it happened, but I was able to stop them choking me with the Force.” I explain. “It felt...incredible!” 

“Don’t abuse that power, Astoria.” Fisto cautions. “Practice restraint and only use that power when needed, and you will find yourself the better for it.” 

I nod. “Yes, Master.” 

The transport arrives at the Temple and we walk together, back to our rooms to put our purchased items away. 

Once that’s done, it’s off to another session with Master Yoda. 

This time, however, it seems to go smoother than previous sessions. Whatever I unlocked in the spice shop eases the path toward understanding meditation and using the Force as the instructor says we should be able to. 

Now, I just need practice and I’ll soon be able to manipulate the Force and calm my mind on command. This is amazing! 

“Learned something you have, hmm?” Master Yoda asks, smiling. 

“Yes, Master, I think I have. I went out with Master Fisto to pick up more shampoo and conditioner, among other things, and I ran into some unsavory characters. They were threatening me, even had me by the throat, then something...happened, inside me, and I was able to use the Force to push them back. They ran off once they knew I was in the Jedi Order.” I explain briefly. 

“Good, good, young one. Great strides in your training, you are making.” 

“Thank you, Master Yoda.” 

“Now, perhaps, meditation you can learn, hmm?” 

I chuckle. “I hope so, Master.” I get into position and begin trying to calm my mind and focus on my connection to the force. True to Uncle Obi’s words, it was like a ball of energy, wild and untamed. Reaching out and feeling that same coil in my core that I’d felt in the spice shop, I begin to see the waves of energy focus into beams that lead off into the vastness of the Force. 

I breathe deeply and try to see if I can find other people’s connections. 

Right in front of me, of course, is Master Yoda’s connection. His energy ball was bigger than mine, shining out like a sun with beams also leading out in every direction. 

“Yes, Astoria. These connections you feel, see all of them, you can. With training, see distant places and future events you can.” 

I release my concentration and open my eyes. “Really?” 

“Yes, Astoria, you can. If wills it, the Force does.” 

[msjr0119]

The Greatest Show

“The Other Side.”

A new 9 part series- all chapters are based on each song from ‘The Greatest Showman’

Characters belong to Pixelberry except MC - Amber Smith-Beaumont

Warnings: Swearing, sarcasm, stubborn Dramber

Tags - using combined tagged list, if you want to be removed please let me know 👍🏼

Catch up on the previous chapter here

@annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @beardedoafdonutwagon @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @indiacater @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desiree-0816

I was going to do the songs in chronological order, however this song is apt for this chapter.🙌🏼

******

Amber woke up with a slight headache- not knowing if it was due to the jet lag or the full bottle of whiskey she had downed with Drake in such a short time the previous night.

Wrapping herself up in the luxurious duvet, waves of nausea suddenly hit- adding to her misery regarding being here ‘against her own free will.” Amber turned her phone on, as it ‘pinged’ with message after message, notification after notification- she regretted turning it on in the first place. Brett. Brett and his usual abusive threats were many of the messages. After no response from her, the usual apologies began- ‘Baby I’m sorry. I love you, just let me know that you are alright?’ The room began spinning, dehydration was now too obvious to ignore- grabbing a glass of water and painkillers, she had hoped that she would recover even the slightest before seeing Bertrand.

Quickly getting showered and dressing in comfy clothes- she had decided to go for a wander around her new home for the next month or so. Knowing that it was the Derby later on today and that Maxwell had already prepped her outfit, she knew she had time before needing to get ready. Leaving her phone, she text Brett lying saying signal was rubbish.

*****

Maxwell and Bertrand woke up and immediately headed towards Amber’s room. Bertrand had decided to give her a quick refresher lesson to help her ‘fit in’.

Opening the door, she wasn’t there. Bertrand became panic stricken mainly due to his house’s reputation, Maxwell was the opposite- assuming it was due to Brett.

“Where the hell is she? Was she okay when Drake saw her?”

“Yes! He said ‘She’s fine, no need for babysitting. I’ve left her now. See ya tomorrow Beaumont.’ I know Drake is miserable and seems not caring. But he wouldn’t leave anyone alone if they weren’t fine. Well...he may do that to Madeleine or Olivia- but with other people he has a heart under that gruff interior.” Heading two doors down, they knocked on Drakes door- hoping he would give any indication regarding Amber’s state of mind. Opening the door in response to the loud banging, he would berate whoever created this rude awakening.

“Do you know what time it is?” Drake snapped, whilst yawning.

“Yes 7.30. It’s late for me! I’m like the walking and talking alarm clock. Have you heard from Amber?”

“No why would I hear from her?”

“Well you probably have spoken to her more than anyone here. She’s not in her room. I’m worried that she’s runaway to go back to that arsehole.”

“She was fine when I left. We spoke about the states, realised we have a few things in common. One of those things was riding- I said I’d take her for a ride one day. I wouldn’t have left her if she wasn’t okay- mainly due to you two possibly murdering me.” Mainly due to me falling fast for her. I wouldn’t want to see her hurt. “What’s this arsehole done to her anyway? Cheated on her?”

“I wish! No I don’t mean it like that, I meant I wish that was the only thing he has done to her. Do you remember us sneaking off to New York a lot? That’s the reason why- she’d insist to not come but she’s family.”

“Many times myself and Maxwell had tried to convince her to come back. She’s afraid of what he may do next, what more he is capable of. I’m surprised that she’s here now. Maybe if she feels safe here she may stay?”

“I’ll use my persistent charm to convince her.” Maxwell winked at them both.

“I’ll go and look for her. You two look for her as well.” Bertrand exited the room, Drake’s mind was racing - wondering if the two brothers were over exaggerating the facts regarding Amber’s boyfriend.

“What has he done to her Max? She didn’t explain anything to me. I know it’s none of my business and that’s probably why.”

“Black eyes, bruises, broken arm, skull fracture. There’s no getting through to her buddy. I just wish she would find someone who would love her and that would treat her like a princess. I know she’s sarcastic, a bit dim at times- but she’s an amazing girl.” I know Max, she is amazing. That bastard, she doesn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. I’d treat her well. I’d take her on dates, spoil her, love her. She won’t see you in that way Drake, she’s far too good for you- so stop thinking like that. Brett is her boyfriend, and she’s Liam’s suitor. The prince could sway away from Liv, I mean Amber seems so much better than the ice queen. Shaking his head, he left his thoughts locked away- for the mean time.

“Let’s hope she enjoys her time here then, and that you can convince her to stay. Keep her safe. Does he know where you two are from?”

“No. He doesn’t know we are noble. Good job really.”

*****

Amber was in a gaze, walking through the courtyard lost in thought.

“Lady Amber are you lost?”

“Hey ‘Zimmer’. No. Well yes. I just needed some air - to clear my mind. I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone.”

“Remember what I threatened you with ‘suture’. Well if you insist. I’m sure the Beaumont’s are panicking about your whereabouts, Bertrand had a face like thunder.”

“Shit! He’s going to kill me. He’s going to yell at me. I better go back in.”

“And where the hell have you been?” Clearing his throat after seeing Leo, he returned to his usual manners by bowing to the prince. “Your highness.”

“Bertrand for fuck sake just call me Leo.”

“As you wish. Amber you look a mess, you’re one of Liam’s suitors. Get inside now and get ready! I’ll bring you some breakfast up to your room. We don’t have time to dilly dally. You’re a Beaumont act like one!”

Amber mouthed told you to Leo who just laughed. Storming through the doors with Bertrand high on her heels, Maxwell and Drake were waiting in her room after not finding her themselves.

“What are you two doing here?”

“Where have you been?”

“I went for a walk, I’ve got a banging headache- a hangover because of him.” Pointing to Drake, his face dropped knowing he would be in the doghouse with the brothers.

“Hey! I didn’t force you to drink the whiskey. It’s not my fault.” Amber laughed, then the both of them averted their gaze. Maxwell noticed the two of them blushing. Wondering what exactly happened last night between them both. He had noticed that Drake hadn’t been as withdrawn as he usually is since Amber had been there. Believing he was overthinking the situation- he did need to mention something important.

“Amber, he’s been ringing you whilst we’ve waiting here. What’s up?”

“Oh the usual threats. I made my bed Max so I’ll lay in it. Anyway- get out I need to get dressed, I don’t want to give Drake another heart attack. Then we have a Beaumont meeting downstairs, Bertrand is waiting for us.” Using the ‘finger gun’ gesture mimicking a handgun, he knew it was important to get to Bertrand quickly- the sooner this ‘meeting’ was over the better.

*****

Pacing the room, Bertrand was impatiently waiting for his family members to attend. He had spoken to Liam prior, to ask that no one disturbs them.

“Lord Beaumont. Lady Amber. About time that you both arrived. You both need to be punctual with court events. Now we have around an hour before we have to head to the Derby.” Amber rolled her eyes back, whilst Max sniggered- knowing she really didn’t give two damns.

“Bertrand. I know how to be noble. I spent all my childhood summers surrounded by you guys. I’m a good actress don’t worry.”

“Right here, right now. I put the offer out,I don't want to chase you down. I know you see it. You run with me and I can cut you free. Out of the drudgery and walls you keep in.”

“What the hell is that meant to mean?”

“That you can stay here with us, not go back to your hard boring life in New York. So trade that typical for something colorful. And if it's crazy, live a little crazy.... you can risk it all and see”

“Don't you wanna get away from the same old part you gotta play 'Cause I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride. It'll take you to the other side” Max butt in, hoping that she would listen to their plea to stay.

“Okay, my friend, you want to cut me in. Making me a fake princess, a noble. Well I hate to tell you, but it just won't happen. So thanks, but no I think I'm good to go. ‘Cause I quite enjoy the life you say I'm trapped in. Now I admire you, and that whole courtly show you do. You're onto something, really it's something....I got what I need and I don't want to take the ride. I don't need to see the other side. So go and do like you do. I'm good to do like me. Oh, damn! Can't you see I'm doing fine. I don't need to see the other side”

“Now is this really how you like to spend your days? Whiskey and misery, and parties and plays?”

“If I were mixed up with you, I'd be the talk of the town. Disgraced and disowned, another one of the clowns.”

“But you would finally live a little, finally laugh a little. Just let me give you the freedom to dream. And it'll wake you up and cure your aching. Take your walls and start 'em breaking. Now that's a deal that seems worth taking. But I guess I'll leave that up to you...” Hoping she would listen to their words, she didn’t need to become a full Beaumont- a lady of their house, but if she moved to Cordonia full time they knew she would be safe- and have a better future. Amber remained silent, not knowing how to respond. Obviously leaving Brett would cure all the heartache she had gained in New York. But she knew of how vicious court could be especially with her being ‘common’.

“We’re going to the other side, as a team. Until the Coronation- then I’ll consider my options. And for your information I enjoy whiskey and misery! And parties. Does this social season include an infamous Beaumont Bash?” The two brothers smiled at each other, knowing she would possibly consider staying. Not wanting to push it any further, they had decided to continue with the noble refresher course. Bertrand went through things such as how to use cutlery correctly, whilst Maxwell helped her with the Cordonian waltz.

“I know you don’t want to be here, but make an effort with Liam. Especially if Connie is watching. I heard that Drake that offered to take you for a ride. What kind of ride did he mean?”

“Horse ride. Dur! What other kind of ride?”

“Ohh you were both blushing before.”

“So?”

“Well he’s your type, tall dark handsome.”

“He is not my type! My type are arseholes. And he isn’t an arsehole.”

“But his looks are your type.” Amber knew she couldn’t lie- especially to Max. When they were younger, they would tell each other their deepest, darkest secrets.

“You two! Concentrate! I know I said you could live a little- but we need to get this right before the next ball.” The two of them danced, Maxwell didn’t see the point- he knew that Amber was an elegant dancer anyway. Picking up the moves straight away he knew she would piss the social season without even trying. Bertrand was impressed with the progress that they had completed in such a short time. There was a hesitant knock at the door- Liam, Leo and Drake wondered if they were all ready to go to the derby. Whilst Bertrand spoke to the Princes- Drake went over towards Maxwell and Amber.

“How’s the hangover m’lady?” Drake asked sarcastically.

“It was better until Bertrand forced us to dance- giving me more of a headache. I’m not noble but I know how to dance. My forte is the slut drop back home- but I don’t think they’d all appreciate me doing that here?”

“Hey, seen as though you’re such a good dancer- why don’t you teach grumpy here? He’s useless with those things.”

“Beaumont! I’m not useless- I just choose not to involve myself with shit like that.”

“Come On Drake, you’ve lived here your whole life and you’ve never once danced with a lady here. Even when Kiara tried to force you.” Kiara, she’s the intellectual one apparently- why would he refuse to dance with her?

“I would dance with anyone but her. I’d even dance with you Max over her.”

“So dance with Amber now then. She needs as much practice as possible.”

“I don’t need anymore practice thank you, MAX.” Why am I refusing to dance with him? It’s just Drake, my cousins friend.

“You heard the lady.” Drake stated before Bertrand came over, wondering what all the commotion was about.

“What’s the matter?”

“I suggested that Drake and Amber should dance together. To get more practice for her. But they are both being stubborn.”

“I think it’s a splendid idea. Maxwell, Liam wanted a word with us anyway. We will be back in five minutes.”

*****

“How about we just not dance. I can tell that you feel uncomfortable about it. What they don’t know won’t hurt. We could just lie, I’ll say I couldn’t teach you because you’re a rubbish student.” Smirking at him, she had hoped that he knew she was joking.

“I don’t actually know how to waltz, I’ve never been interested and I never will be, especially dancing with some noble girl who drools all over me at any given opportunity.” Amber bit her lip, attempting to prevent herself from laughing. “I know you’re trying not to laugh- but it’s true.”

“What the issue with Kiara? She’s beautiful, intelligent, from what they’ve said she’s nice enough.”

“She’s all that.”

“Well then. Maybe you should give her a chance- I’ll teach you to dance the waltz and then you can ask her for a dance.” For god sake Amber, I don’t want to dance with her. Maybe I would with you though.

“Fine. I’m going to lose this argument anyway aren’t I?”

“Yes. My family have a persistent side to us.” Getting into position, she could tell he was tense. Rubbing his arms, she had hoped to loosen him up a bit.

“Do not tell anyone about this.” Drake begged, putting all his trust into a woman he had known for all of two seconds. In the back of his mind he was hoping that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.

“Don’t worry, you’re secrets save with me. I accept bribery in the form of whiskey.”

“That’s my girl.” Realising what he said, he immediately regretted it. “I didn’t mean it like that... I meant... because you like whiskey... oh just ignore me... I’ll buy you some whiskey to keep my secret safe.”

“That’s my man.” She winked, mimicking him. Taking one of Drake’s hands, she guided it around her waist, before putting her hand on his shoulder gently. Placing her spare hand into his- she noticed that it was slightly clammy. Looking into his eyes, she smiled softly- reassuring him that it would be fine. Shit I can’t do this, that wank last night was a one off- but having her this close to me is making me want more. Think that you’re dancing with Maxwell instead. After a while, Drake glided through the steps effortlessly, keeping his arms and chest out.

“Hold your hand up, and I’ll spin underneath it.” Finishing the spin, he held her close- both just staring at each other. Their chests rising in unison, Amber averted her gaze, and removed herself from his embrace.

“That’s it. You’ve done the Cordonian Waltz. I’ll buy you a medal. See, dancing isn’t that bad.” Maybe not with you in my arms- shit. Stop thinking about her like that.

“Maybe not. I don’t need a medal, I’m not a kid. I’ll share that whiskey I owe you instead.”

“It’s a date. Come on. Let’s go and find the others.” Drake blushed, knowing the word ‘date’ didn’t mean anything. But how he wished it did, he wouldn’t admit that to anyone.

*****

After finding the others, they headed towards Honeyhill Downs. The suitors all gathered in the tents. Amber kept herself to herself- not really wanting to form any friendships until she knew what her future held. Olivia abruptly dragged her to the side, out of view from the others.

“So Amber, Liam told me about your little plan.”

“With all due respect your grace, it’s not a plan. It’s what Prince Liam will be doing. He wants you to become his wife- so what’s stopping him just following his heart?”

“But the King said....”

“What the King said is something he hopes for. Doesn’t mean it will become a reality - he shouldn’t control Liam’s mind. Liam is the future king.”

“So you don’t find the Prince attractive? You wouldn’t want to be future Queen yourself?”

“Fuck no!” Composing herself, she coughed before acting more ‘lady like’. “What I mean is no, I do not want to be Queen. Not now. Not ever. He’s all yours, don’t worry your grace. The only time I will spend with Liam will be an act. He’s not my type anyway.”

“What is your type then?”

“Someone who’s tall dark and handsome. And someone who is usually an arsehole. Liam has lovely baby blues, but I prefer dark eyes.” Olivia laughed, knowing who her perfect man would be- unaware that Amber was already in a relationship.

“Oh someone like Drake Walker then?” Blushing, she needed to think of an excuse to avoid people realising she had a slight crush on the commoner.

“Drake, is a lovely guy. The only love we will share is for whiskey.”

“If you say so Amber. I’m starting to like you. Stay in my good books or I may threaten you with a dagger.”

*****

Liam, Leo and Drake sat in the royal tent- all scrutinising the suitors tent from a distance. Whilst the two brothers compared the suitors, they noticed Drake in a trance- his eyes following every move that a certain lady made.

“Earth to Drake?” Liam said in a concerned voice, whilst shaking Drake.

“Sorry, what’s up?”

“Why are you gawking at Amber?” Shit!

“I’m not, I’m looking at them all- wondering why the hell liam is still insistent on choosing Olivia.”

“Now I know you’re lying Walker. You wouldn’t look at Kiara like that. You hate her.” Leo raised his eyebrows, waiting for Drake to lie through his teeth.

“I think Amber is a lovely girl, she’s got a great sense of humour. That is all.”

“Dude, you need to tell her how you feel.”

“For fuck sake Leo, I don’t know the girl. There’s nothing to tell her. I’ll go and grab some more drinks.” The two brothers laughed, both knowing Drake was hiding his true feelings.

“Do you think he will ever confess to her?”

“No.”

*****

Walking over to the bar, Drake thought about leaving Cordonia for a while to convince himself that he wasn’t falling for the new girl. If it was that obvious that both the princes knew, who else knew? How long would it be before Amber knew?

“I’ll have a whiskey if you’re buying. You owe me remember- or I may just spill your little secret.” Turning around, he couldn’t get away from her- not that he wanted to.

“I have many secrets, I suppose that one isn’t one of the worse for you to spill. Are you enjoying the Derby?”

“Ohh there’s more secrets? You have to tell me now, I’ll pinky promise that I won’t tell anyone. About this Derby- I’d rather be riding, but hey this is all just for show. In a month I’ll be out of here, living my old life.” Drakes heart sunk, now he knew that he needed to prevent his premature feelings from growing.

“I don’t trust anyone, so I wouldnt trust you with all my secrets.” One secret being that I like you more than I should. “I don’t blame you for wanting to escape. I’d be doing the same if it wasn’t for Liam.”

“I’m hurt that you don’t trust me- I’m joking. Are you sure you’re not a closet gay?”

“I’m positive! I meant Liam has always had my back. Even when my dad died, and my mom left us- the royal family took us in and made us part of the family. Most nobles were ready to cast us out.” Placing a comforting hand on his arm, she felt guilty.

“I’m sorry Drake. I didn’t know. I was only joking you know? I better get back. Thank you for the drink.”

“No problem. Your round next time though.”

“Definitely. By the way, I’m glad you’re not a closet gay. That would just be a waste- you’re too handsome. See ya.” Shit why would I call him handsome? I mean he is, but I shouldn’t have said that. Why is it that I’d prefer to hang out with him over the women? I need to go back to New York as soon as possible- I’m damaged goods, he wouldn’t like me in that way.

Too handsome? She’s just being polite. Don’t think too much into it. You’re just a commoner. Once this event is over, I need to book a flight to Texas- I can’t fall for a girl who will never return the feelings.

[veridium]

oc interview - olivia

tagged by the terrific @heraldofwho​ to have my oc do an interview! thank you again for the tag!

tagging @dickeybbqpit​, @avaquet​, @bitchesofostwick​, @cullenvhenan​, and @star--nymph​ if they have not done one already, or would like to do one for another oc!

name ➔ “Olivia Sinclair is my full name, though people hardly know it on account of my title. I know you have likely been asked to adhere to that, but please, call me Olivia.” are you single ➔ “I...” She grins tensely, and looks off to the nearest window. “I have a troublesome history with that word. I never consider myself “taken” or “spoken for.” I am never spoken for. But I admit I have a fondness for someone. That is all I will admit.” are you happy ➔ She smirks and shakes her head. “Happiness is a distracting goal. I have not been happy as people would call it in many years. Do I have moments of happiness? Yes. Do I hunger for it? Yes. But someone like me, the world does not encourage happiness.”  are you angry ➔ “Yes, always. I just hide it well, and choose to laugh whenever I have that choice.” are your parents still married ➔ “They were until my Father passed away when I was seventeen. As far as I know, my Mother never remarried. I would not care, truly, if she did. I wouldn’t be surprised, either. Their marriage was far from perfect or lovely.”

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔ “I was born at my family’s home just north of Val Royeaux. Normally I just say the Capitol, since it is close enough.” hair color ➔ “Blonde, fair, bright, whatever you would call it. The Bard in the tavern, Maryden, teases me by singing of it as spun gold. She knows I scowl at the idea of being talked about like I am some pristine art fixture.” eye color ➔ “That changes rather famously. When I am at rest they are hazel, but I am never at rest. They glow a little of gold and sometimes red. Mages can have very expressive eyes, and if they choose not to control it, it can be rather sinister looking.” She pauses, and a wry smile grows on her lips. “I like it like that.” birthday ➔ “The 7th of Drakonis, in the year 9:15.”  mood ➔  “My mood? Hah,” she crosses her arms, “depends on who you ask. I would say quite friendly. Varric would agree. The Seeker would not.” gender ➔ “I am a woman.” summer or winter ➔  “Summer. Though, I have become used to the eternal snow and chill of the Frostbacks. It isn’t always a treat. Summer and Spring are my favorite seasons because of the warmth and liveliness of the country. My Father used to hunt and host gatherings celebrating the open season. Everything felt much more bearable and beautiful.”

morning or afternoon ➔ “Mornings. I do not sleep very well, so mornings are my most productive. As soon as the sun rises, I do. I absolutely detest getting a late start to my day.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ “You would never have me admit in open air if I was. Sorry, but I learned far before I ever had the chance to decide for myself, that wearing my heart on my sleeve is nothing but a liability. It is a hard habit to unlearn.” do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “I believe in infatuation as well as obsession. I believe we can use people as escapes from our own concerns. All-too-often we use these hungers as excuses to call it love. As for the real thing, perhaps I am unfamiliar with it and that has made me a skeptic. I cannot be blamed, no? After all, what have been my examples of it? Nothing worth recreating or venerating, I can tell you that much.”

who ended your last relationship ➔ “I did not have relationships, I had encounters. They ended as anomalously as they began. I do not start things with people that would cause me too much grief to finish.” have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “Yes...and their skulls...and their arms...well, I should clarify that it was not a lover’s quarrel or honest tryst. I would never do that to someone I was sincerely fond of. Where do you think I got my alias as the Black Dove, anyway? There is a reason no one has yet ventured to court me.” are you afraid of commitments ➔ “My friends would say yes. I would say yes if it means I know the perils of “belonging” to someone.” She says it with an ache in her voice, like she only half-agrees with what she is saying. She crosses one leg over the other and shakes herself of the melancholy. “I think it is even worse when the commitment is genuine. You cannot avoid it or dissuade yourself. It just becomes this affliction you have to wash yourself of.”

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Yes! Of course! My friends, my Ambassador. She used to have such an odd look on her face when I did it in the beginning, she is such a stickler for decorum. We only ever do it in private because of it. She has been won over, though, I am pleased to say.” have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “In all likelihood, yes. When people first meet me it is all about how pretty and petite I am. Naomi said once that I am honey on the eyes but spice on the tongue. I do not disagree,” she snickers a bit. have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ She opens her mouth quickly, but catches herself from responding. She chuckles a bit anxiously, and runs a hand up around the side of her neck. “I have, and I do. But that is our little secret -- I cannot have people thinking I am so sentimental.”

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ “Love is a fanciful ideal. Lust is a human craving that I am much more sympathetic of, and I know that sounds rather careless, but it is the truth. When we are honest about what is lust and what is love, I think we find lust is the most apt descriptor for the needs we act on. Love, however, takes many shapes. I love my people, I love my allies, and I love my cause. I am a human who lusts for intimacy and gratification. These do not have to exclude each other.” lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Oh sweet Maker, who would drink lemonade? Tea, tea, nothing but tea. Though I will admit I like it better hot.” cats or dogs ➔ “I do not have a preference for either. Cullen will talk for hours about dogs and I only pay attention to the first sentence and last -- shit, don’t tell him that, he will only want to rant more. Cats are fine as well. My favorite animals tend to be much larger, and with hooves and muzzles,” she says with a fiendish smile, knee jerking to show off her calf-high riding boots still on her feet. 

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “A few very close friends is always worth more than a legion of accolades. I will never not say so. I will admit however that my inclusion of people into that category has grown bigger since the Inquisition began.”  wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Romantic, you say? So, me alone with books, candles, and a cup of something strong? I will take that over a night out. At the risk of being accused of lies, I will say I do not hate being out with good company. I am good at being sociable! Does not mean I wholeheartedly enjoy it.” day or night ➔ “Day for the struggle, night for the trouble, as my dear friend Roslyn would say. I will leave it at that,” she says tilting her head and chuckling again. 

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ “Yes. As a child I would always want to stay up late like my Father did. Sometimes I could make it from where my room was on my Mother’s side of the home to my Father’s and find him still sitting by his fire, smoking a pipe or drinking his brandy. When I was sent to the Circle such things were much more dangerous to do, but I still sometimes broke the Templar’s curfew for certain...reasons. Understandably, nowadays I do not run into such authorities.”

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Uh...hm, well,” she scrunched her lips to one side of her face. “I am afraid both. I am...or, was, quite clumsy. Funny, considering I was a dancer in my childhood. We cannot outrun all of our imperfections, no?” wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ "Yes, so many things. So many opportunities I have chased and craved for years. It is at the very heart of who I am. As for people...that is a much more sordid answer.” wanted to disappear ➔ “If it meant defying a Templar’s vigilance, yes. Completely. Growing up I would have given anything to just be what I thought was a regular, more liberated person -- someone not born to privilege which I saw as a cage. I have since learned it was a child of wealth’s romanticization of poverty. I had many troubles, yes, but none of them were insecurity with food, shelter, or protection. What I truly wanted was to be treated with respect and love. That standard should not depend on class.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ “Eyes! Eyes are projections of the spirit. I fall for--I mean, ahah, I get to know someone a great deal through the way their eyes and faces change in different moods.” shorter or taller ➔ “With my height, it is rather easy to elect for taller.” intelligence or attraction ➔ “Both, yes? You need both to a degree. Minds in tandem with one another add the fire to any bond.” hook-up or relationship ➔ She gives a knowing look, brow raised and grin crooked, indicating to move on to the next question. 

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ She only chuckles and rolls her eyes.  would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “I grew up in a deeply distorted and toxic culture. I was sent to the Circle which oppressed Mages for being who they are. My friends and I broke free and I landed here, somehow, with an anchor in my hand and a title before my name. I have suffered but I have survived. A lot of people would say the same having faced dangers I never had to.” have you ever ran away from home ➔ ”No, but then again, eventually I did not have to.” have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “I believe that is what one might say into describe my being sent to the Circle, so, yes?”

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Secretly? No! Veronica knows I revile her.” She tries to maintain a straight face, but she cannot help but crack another smile.  do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “Yes, of course. They are the noblest, kindest, and most worthy people I know. We grew up together. As for my friends in the Inquisition, I know better than to believe our relationships indivisible. We all have arrived from different places and positions in the world. If this fight ever ends, I imagine those positions will pull us into new and old directions. All this said, I wish to believe that our bonds have a sincerity to them.” who is your best friend ➔ “I could never say I have just one. I have a few. When we have different concerns and needs, we go to each other. It is as it should be.” who knows everything about you ➔ “Me as a person behind the leadership role? One of the girls could probably answer that. Me as both leader and person? Leliana and Josephine, of course. Cassandra would...she would, too.” She blinks, and shakes her head suddenly. “I mean, of course she would. That woman has dragged me everywhere. Insufferable.”

[fanficsaremylifeline]

Bodyswap

On AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21891229

*****

Something on this last mission went horribly wrong. Tony hadn't even opened his eyes yet, but he could feel it; something was not right. There was nothing too unusual, when he eventually glinted through his eyes and looked around the quinjet. The mission went by relatively quickly; SHIELD called them to the Andes, where some Alien was literally breaking mountains apart. Tony had thought it an exaggeration, until he and the Avengers stood in front of the giant creature next to which even Hulk looked small. As much as Tony hated it, but the most apt comparison was a kind of humanoid centipede. There were a lot of arms and legs, too many for Tony's liking. The creature did use it's limbs to beat the Avengers up; he did get quite a few ugly blows in, Tony had to hand it that. His preferred method of fighting was a sort of purple glittery gel that it spewed at the six heroes; by the end of the fight they were covered from head to toe in that disgusting goo. Thank the heavens, it didn't smell.

But by now they were on the helicarrier, more or less cleaned up; SHIELD had the thing under lock and key. How they got the thing on the ship, Tony didn't know. And if he weren't that exhausted after the fight, he'd really would have liked to find out. All of them were unusually exhausted and they all had dozed off within minutes of taking flight. But, except for the last bit of goo dripping off them, everything seemed to be as it always was. Nat and Clint were lying half on top of each other as usual; Thor was sprawled out on a chair; Tony snored softly with his feet on Bruce's armrest.

Wait.

WHAT?

Tony still had to be dreaming, that was the only explanation for him to see himself on the other side of the room, while Tony looked like... Oh, they had to be fucking kidding him! As he looked down himself, he saw the red, white and blue suit of Captain America. And sure enough, there was the shield, propped up against his chair, covered in gel.

Tony repeatedly pinched himself, but sure enough, he was still stuck in this weird bizarro world.

“Jarvis?”

“How can I help you?”

Well, here goes nothing. “Who am I?”

“You are Steven Grant Rogers, better known as Captain America, born on the fourth of July 1918 in...”

Tony waved him off. Not even his own AI could recognize him... Whatever this was, it had to stop right fucking now.

“Up and at 'em”, he yelled, “CODE RED!”

Everybody stirred; Nat and Thor jumped up at Tony's  call looking ready and wide awake. Clint and that Tony-clone stirred a little slower, but they were also almost immediately alert clearly awaiting a mission report and orders. Steve was the captain after all, and with Tony apparently wearing his face... Bruce was the only one not waking up; but after hulking out that wasn't anything too unusual.

“WHAT? Who are you and why do you look like me?”, Nat cried out and took two steps towards Tony; well, tried to. Her staggering was about as graceful as a newborn deer on ice and after she had found her balance again she looked down herself and turned beet-red immediately. “Oh my god”, prompting a round of curses as everyone found themselves no longer inhabiting their own bodies.

“Guys. GUYS!”, Tony cried to get everybody's attention. “Guess I'm not the only one in the wrong skin. Let's do inventory. Tony here.”

“Clint.” The other Tony raised his hand and Tony could only groan that Katniss was in charge of his body.

“Nat”, came Thor's booming voice.

“And I'm Bruce”, Clint waved.

“Which'd make you Cap or Thor.” Tony turned to the still beet-red Natasha; from the level of apparent embarrassment, it was probably Rogers.

“Steve.” It was absolutely hilarious that Steve never-been-with-a-girl Rogers was now sporting Nat's body; thank the god of irony!

“That'd make me, well him, Thor”, Clint!Bruce pointed at his body.

“What the absolute fuck happened?”, Thor!Nat asked.

“No idea, but it's very weird to hear Thor swear”, Clint!Bruce observed.

“Weirder than Steve having boobs?”, Tony!Clint laughed and was promptly hit on the arm by Thor!Nat.

“HEY!”, Clint and Tony called out in unison. “Don't you dare bruise my body!”, the real Tony made clear, while the fake Tony rubbed his arm.

“I'm really sorry, Nat”, Nat!Steve apologized over and over again and crossed their arms tightly in front of their chest to cover as much as possible.

“Cap, we all know you've never been inside a woman before, but we have more urgent issues right now”, Tony shot over and turned to Clint. “You're Bruce, right?”

“Yes”, he nodded wide-eyed.

“Well, in your expert medical opinion, do you agree that this slime needs to be examined asap?”

“I do. My best guess would be maybe some psychic properties... Not quite sure. We need to talk to that... thing.”

“Yeah, I'll get right on that.”

“Why you?”, Nat!Steve asked.

“Because we all know that Fury trusts Cap more than anyone else”, Tony shot back with a shrug.

“Wait”, Tony!Clint interrupted. “You don't want to tell Fury what's going on here?”

“If we do that, we'll be SHIELD's guinea pigs”, Thor!Nat agreed with Tony. “Do you want to be locked in a lab, while they experiment on us?”

“Good point. So, I'll just be Tony then?”, he asked, and Tony didn't like that grin one bit.

“You couldn't be me in a million years”, he scoffed at his body.

“You wanna bet?”

“You're both pretty”, Thor!Nat interrupted the bickering, no time to soon, as the door opened and Fury walked in.

“Good you're up. You guys feeling alright?”

“Yeah”, Tony nodded, “just a bit banged up, but we're fine.”

“Good. So, slight change of plans”, he announced. “We'll drop you of in New York, before heading to SHIELD HQ with our special guest.”

“Do you mind if we tag along? I'd like to question that thing.”

“You've done your job, Cap, now SHIELD will do ours; we got it handled. Besides, you're under medical lockdown; Helen Cho is already informed that you guys came into contact with some unknown alien substance and that she needs to keep an eye on you. So far all our tests read it as not dangerous, but just to be sure.”

That would not do. “I'm fine”, Tony stated and promptly tripped over Roger's damn long legs. Fine, at first it might have felt not too bad in this body, with it being a super soldier one; or maybe because this body was 15 years younger than Tony's. But there was so much more body, especially height, to carry around...

“Yeah, I can see that”, Fury deadpanned. ”Still no. Until Cho clears any and all of you, you stay away from SHIELD or any other type of action. And that's an order.”

Damnit. Tony was dying to keep talking and bothering Fury until he got what he wanted. But he was Captain America right now and to not alert Fury, he should probably stand down. Fuck. “Yes, sir.” Ugh, Tony hated that. The other Avengers shot him wide looks, apparently just as surprised as Tony was about being able to take the command without bitching and arguing first. Tony still hated it.

“Good. We'll keep you in the loop”, Fury promised, as the carrier touched down at the Avenger's. “And don't forget Banner”, he added with a nod to Bruce!Thor, who was balled on the ground, fast asleep.

“Yeah, I'm... I mean he's just exhausted from hulking out”, Clint!Bruce explained.

“Right, Barton our resident Hulk expert”, Nick remarked drily. “Off you go and rest.”

Tony caught himself just in time before moaning something along the lines of “yes, mum”, but that would not be very Cap-like. But, in a rare moment of clarity, Barton rolled his eyes at Fury before groaning: “you're not my real Mum!” It was definitely something Tony would have said, but it was just so weird to see it himself talk, without being the one talking...

“Just get out, Stark.”

That he would. Tony!Clint strutted out, followed by Nat!Steve, Clint!Bruce, Thor!Nat carrying the unconscious Bruce!Thor and Tony, who was the last to step out, after nodding at Fury, before he followed the others into the common room. Nat put Thor down on the couch, gently putting a pillow under his head and a blanket over him.

“Should we leave him be?”, Steve whispered and Bruce just shook his head. “I... He is out like a light. Hulking out... Not even a bomb going off would wake me... I mean him.”

“Right.” Tony clapped his hands together. “First things first. I'm starving.”

“Yeah, that'd be the super metabolism”, Steve explained. No idea how to handle his female body, he changed the way he was sitting for the fifth time in the last thirty seconds.

“I swear to god, just sit alright?”, Nat growled at him. “You are driving me insane!”

“I'm sorry, I... I just don't want to be disrespectful.”

“So just sit your... my... ass down!”

As amusing as it was to watch, Tony had a very grumbly stomach to deal with. “JARVIS, order food please. I don't care what it is, as long as it's here quickly.”

“Of course Captain, your order has been placed.”

Ugh. It's been not even half an hour and Tony was already sick and tired of being called Cap.

But it was about to get so much worse.

The door opened and Pepper hurried inside. Tony already felt so much better as she smiled across the room and he was just about to walk up to her, when she took three big strides right into Barton's arms. “I'm so glad you're alright”, Pepper sighed, cupped his face and kissed him. Actually kissed him.

“What the FUCK?”, Tony yelled, staring at them with wide eyes.

“Hello Steve”, she greeted him, looking quite confused at his sudden outburst of emotion and swearing. “Since when do you mind a bit of PDA between a loving couple?”

“Oh god... That's not me, I am!”, he tried to explain the situation, but only helped to further the confusion. Pepper just looked at Clint who stared back with wide unblinking eyes, frozen to the spot and still in her embrace.

“Oh, for fucks sake!”, Tony groaned, “Barton. Let go of my girlfriend!”

Finally Clint moved, backed away from Pepper.

“What is going on?”, she demanded to know, looking from one Avenger to the next.

“No clue, hadn't have the chance o figure it out yet. We just woke up to some Freaky Friday type situation”, Tony explained.

“So... Who I just kissed was not...”

“That was Clint in my body, yeah.”

“So you're...” Pepper took a few careful steps towards Tony but stopped just before she could reach him.

“Yeah, it's me Pep.” Tony shot her a skew grin and would just die to take that last step towards her and give her a proper kiss. This whole situation probably gave enough cause for couples therapy without someone looking and sounding like Rogers kissing her though.

“Huh. Steve?”

“Here.” He raised his hand, waving shyly.

“Oh wow...”

“Tell me about it”, Thor's voice echoed through the room.

“Natasha?”

“Yeah... Thor's in Bruce and Bruce is in Clint.”

“Hi Pepper”, Bruce smiled over.

“I...” Seeing Pepper speechless was a unusually scary sight. Until she started laughing, loud and heartedly. As much as Tony loved that sound, right now he couldn't really enjoy it.

“I'm glad you're enjoying this”, Tony deadpanned.

“Sorry”, she chuckled. “I guess we can't celebrate the victory just yet?”

“I definitely don't want you to celebrate with this body.”

“And not with yours either, I suppose”, she smirked.

“Well”, Tony mused, “if you did, I believe I'd have earned the right to do Natasha-Steve over there...”

“Oh fuck no!”, Nat called out in Thor's booming voice. “Besides the obvious, Steve is already way to overwhelmed with my body.”

And cue Steve blushing so hard he matched his new hair colour.

“Right then. What did SHIELD say, do they have any idea how to reverse this?”

“We didn't tell them”, Tony admitted.

“What the hell, Tony. You kept all this”, Pepper gestures around the room, “from Fury?”

“If I told him, SHIELD would lock us up and... I don't know experiment on us and shit. We've got more than enough brainpower to figure something out.”

Pepper took a deep breath, before locking eyes with Tony again “Alright. If there's one thing I can trust it's your brain and that your batshit crazy ideas somehow seem to work out.”

“Yeah, I promise. We all want to get into our own bodies as quickly as we can.”

Jarvis interrupted them as he announced: “Food has arrived.”

“Oh thank god”, Tony sighed.

“Right. Dig in, make a plan and I'll be right here if you need me.”

“Thanks. I love you.”

Pepper just pulled her face into a grimace. “I know it's coming from you, but it's really weird hearing it from Steve.”

“I bet”, Tony chuckled. “Under these circumstances I'd be fine with you saying it back to Steve's face.”

“I love you too, Tony”, she smiled, stressing the Tony, and brushed his shoulder as she walked past him and out of the room. And Tony could only stare after her, quite aware of the dopey lovestruck grin on his face, but didn't care who saw it.

“Ehem.” A collective harrumph brought Tony back into a reality where he was still stuck inside Capsicle's body, while Clint inhabited his.

“Right then...” Tony cleared his throat and turned to himself. “Since you're me, you get to pay. Don't fight it”, he shot back as Clint motioned to argue. “I'm being merciful here after watching you kiss Pepper. So, get the food, pronto.”

“Yes, Captain”, Barton shot back and headed for the door.

“Right and we should figured out whether we'll be honest with Cho, because I imagine she'll drag our asses to the infirmary any moment now”, Nat threw in, before glaring menacingly at Steve, who once again shifted in his seat, but stilled as soon as he saw her stare.

“I vote yes”, Banner suggested. “We could use another doctor and I'm sure she would be confused as to why Clint and Steve worked in the lab with her.”

“Good point”, Steve nodded. “I still feel wrong lying to Fury...”

“Only until we've figured out what's wrong. We need to head to DC asap anyway to talk to that alien; by then we'll hopefully know what we're dealing with”, Tony shrugged and gratefully took a pizza box out of Clint's arm as he walked back in. “Agree?”, he asked, already half a slice of pepperoni pizza in his mouth.

“Agree”, Steve nodded. “I really don't mean any disrespect but I'm very much uncomfortable in this body...”

Before Tony or Clint could make some more comments, Helen walked into the room. “Hey, I thought Fury told you to come straight to the medbay!”

“Hello Helen”, Tony greeted her with his mouth full of pizza, “we were gonna come down right after dinner.”

“Tony, please don't talk with your mouth full, especially with a lady”, Steve reprimanded him, before turning to Cho. “I'm sorry, we're still practising manners.”

“Alright, but why call him Tony? And since when do you care about that?” Helen looked from Tony to Steve, the questionmark on her face growing.

“Because I'm Tony”, he answered.

“And I'm Steve. And they're all jumbled up as well.”

“You don't expect me to believe that, do you?” Cho looked like every teacher Tony ever had, who got to listen to his excuses. He used to be quite creative with that, but body swap never occurred to him...

“The first time we met, you stitched up a cut on my leg I got in a knife fight with a perv who thought he could have his way with me”, Nat recalled to prove her identity.

“Natasha?” Her jaw was on the ground as she looked at Thor!Nat with wide eyes.

“Hi Helen...”

“Why the fuck didn't Fury tell me about this?”

“Because we didn't tell him”, Bruce admittedly meekly as he took a few careful steps towards her. “I'm Bruce, by the way.”

“And why the fuck wouldn't you tell him?”

“Because we don't want to end up locked up in a SHIELD lab, where they treat us like guinea pigs. With Tony, me and you, we can run all the tests on us, this weird goo and figure out a way to reverse this.”

“So you want me to lie to Fury.”

“It's just... We're going through enough shit as it is”, Tony explained. “I just got to watch my girlfriend kiss Clint and we have the thundering, blundering Thor inside Bruce, which just screams constant hulk-outs. Locking us up at SHIELD won't help anybody, especially not us.”

Silence fell over the room as Helen looked from Avenger to Avenger. “Fine”, she sighed eventually and exasperated threw her hands up in the air. “Just don't get me fired.”

“Not gonna happen, I promise. Thank you, so, so much! It's all gonna be fine, promise.”

“I'll hold you to that”, Helen made clear and pointed at Tony, “and trust me, you don't want to piss me off.”

“Yeah”, Tony gulped, taking a timid step back, “I got it.”

“Good. To the lab then.”

“But... pizza!” Tony had basically inhaled half a pizza already, but he still felt like he was starving.

“Supermetabolism”, Steve explained.

“Ah”, she nodded. “Fine. Then everybody who's not starving with me.” And, with Steve, Bruce and Clint on her heel, Helen waltzed off, leaving Thor passed out on the couch and Tony and Nat gorging themselves on pizzas. At least Nat felt like he did, with a supermetabolized body.

.

“You guys can shower first”, Helen greeted them as they staggered in, carrying the unconscious Thor while trying not to trip over the annoyingly long legs of their new bodies. Tony had to admit, Natasha handled that giant mountain of muscles a lot more graceful that Tony did... “I got enough samples of the goo for plenty of testing.”

The others had already showered, sitting in jogging trousers and SI sweatshirts on the patient beds. Steve had wrapped himself up completely, hiding all of Nat's curves. Bruce was bent over a microscope, already having started the first tests and Clint had his feet propped up against the wall, reading a magazine.

“Right then”, Tony nodded and carefully, as to not trip too much, he made for the bathroom.

“DON'T LOOK!”, Steve yelled and Tony couldn't help his snorted laugh. “Trust me, I wasn't planning on it.” With that, he disappeared in a shower stall.

.-.-.-.-.

“So”, Helen stated, as she glanced over all the test results. “I can't tell you anything about the glibber yet, but all the tests I ran on you guys... Well, they're spectacularly unspectacular. Your results are in accordance with the body you're inhabiting.”

“Well, nice to know that my body is at least healthy, even though Legolas is running it.”

“You kidding me? I love being in a body that can hear!”, Clint grinned back. “No more hearing aids!”

To stop them from starting a fight, Nat just growled at them and they were quiet. Even though she would probably be respected a lot more in this body, it was nice to know that those two were afraid of Natasha, not Thor's body.

“Thanks for the hint”, Bruce smiled over, reached to his ear and shut off the aids.

And Nat just burst out laughing. She couldn't blame him; those guys were just so damn whiny; if she had the possibility to switch off any hearing, she'd do the same. Huh, she never asked, if Banner knew ASL... “You alright?”, she signed and he smiled back with a nod.

“Sick of the whining.”

“Tell me about it. Lucky you for Clint's body then!” She grinned and Bruce just started laughing.

“At least this one is only 7 years older than mine, not 1500.”

“I don't mind that so much, but it's so damn big and different. Not gonna lie, bathroom was a little tricky earlier.”

“Come on, you got it so much harder when you're not in the wrong skin.”

“Guys, don't discriminate us”, Tony moped, looking from Nat to Bruce.

Clint was still sprawled out on one bed, nose in a magazine. “They're just saying that my body is better than Thor's or Nat's”, he commented, barely looking up at them.

Steve looked over at Tony. “We should probably learn ASL...”

“What's going on?” Bruce locked eyes with Nat.

“More whining”, she grinned back and with a chuckle, Bruce went back to his microscope.

“So, physically everything is normal?”, Steve asked again as he turned to Cho.

“Yeah, why? Something wrong?”

He just shrugged. “I feel kinda weird.”

“The results are all perfectly normal for Natasha”, Helen explained, after double checking her notes. “You do have a bunch of new body parts, maybe you just need to get used to that. If you're still not well by tomorrow or it gets worse, I'll check you again, alright?”

“Sure thing”, he nodded and wrapped the blanket a little tighter around himself.

“Natasha, please tell Bruce to switch the aids on again, I'll need his help to hook you guys up to the computers, so I can run tests on your brainwaves.”

She signed at him and Bruce went back to hearing and to work and in no time, Nat and the guys had all sorts of cables stuck to their heads. And the biologists went nuts over their results, comparing data and throwing technical terms around. All that wouldn't be that unusual, if it weren't all coming from Clint's mouth.

“Dude, this is so bizarre”, Clint whispered over. “I mean, I know it's not me, but...”

“But it sounds and looks like you”, Nat finished his sentence.

“I know how you feel, Barton”, Steve threw over, nodding at his body, discussing something or other with Cho. “Bizarre doesn't even begin to cover all this.”

“How are you guys doing?” Nat didn't even hear the door opening, until Pepper walked up to them and sat herself on Nat's bed.

“The bodies are healthy”, she recapped, “the nerds are currently trying to decipher our brainwaves.”

“I might be slightly biased, but you are in quite capable hands with those three”, Pepper smiled.

“No bias, very true facts”, Steve agreed.

“Well, Clint.” She turned to him and Nat could see how much she was weirded out by her boyfriend's body keeping its distance. “I believe I owe you an apology for me throwing myself at you earlier.”

“There's no need to apologize, how were you supposed to know that it wasn't Tony... Still, in the fear of crossing a line here, Tony is a lucky guy”, he grinned, blushing just the slightest bit.

“I think I can appreciate that compliment.”

“Hi Pepper.” Tony turned around and smiled widely at her, all dopey and lovestruck, a look Nat did not remember ever seeing on Cap's face.

“Tony”, she smiled back, “you're making progress?”

“Not really”, he admitted. “this is gonna take a while...”

“Alright, that means that Clint and you are in a bit of a pickle.”

“Why?”

“Because you, dear, have a presentation.”

“Can't you reschedule?”

“I tried, all day but nope. You'll have to go through that...”

Bruce waved over. “I have a lecture in three days.”

“And I have an appointment at the Department of Education”, Steve finished summing up all the impeding appointments.

“So, me and Bruce are fucked”, Tony summarized.

“Hey, I can do a great you”, Clint shot back.

“And I don't know that you'd be that convincing a Cap”, Steve added.

“I already fooled Fury.”

Once again, Nat got them to shut up with a nice, thunder-godly growl, before smiling back at Pepper. “We're gonna get these guys into shape, don't worry about that.”

“If I didn't have you”, she beamed and put her hand over her heart.

“Us girls just got each other's back”, Nat chuckled, aware how weirdly bizarre that must sound in Thor's deep voice.

“Wait”, Tony interrupted the women. “Cap, your Department of Education appointment... It doesn't happen to be in DC, does it?”

“It is”, Steve nodded. “Day after tomorrow.”

“Perfect”, Nat grinned, “you can go to SHIELD!”

“I don't suppose Fury'll let you measure that thing's brainwaves...”

“He will most probably not”, Tony agreed with Bruce and went back into technical terms and Natasha didn't even bother trying to follow what they were coming up with. Instead she shot Pepper another smile and leaned back on her bed.

If everything went completely perfect, she'd be back in her own body in two days time, on Thursday. And no time to soon; Steve really didn't look all that hot... He hadn't said it, but Nat knew her body well enough to recognize all the little signs that he was not only uncomfortable in the female skin but in pain as well. And, doing the Math, it was that time a month...

“Helen?”, Nat called over, interrupting the scientists. “Got a hot water bottle and some painmeds?”

“Of course, what's wrong, Natasha?”

“It's not for me”, she assured Helen and nodded over at her body. “Cramps.”

“Yeah, of course.” Cho started rummaging through a drawer, as Steve looked over at Nat, moving to ask the obvious question.

“I know my body”, she answered pre-emptively.

“Right”, he nodded and stopped the fight against giving in to the pain. “But I thought nothing's wrong with this body?”

“You're not gonna like this”, Pepper shrugged, “but the body is working like it's supposed to.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Omigod.” Tony looked from Pepper to Nat, who both decided to ignore him in favour of the super soldier, who still hadn't gotten that he was on his period.

“It means that you picked a hell of a week for this body swap”, Helen chuckled.

“What do you... Oh.” The penny seemed to have dropped as his eyes went wide and he blushed even more than Nat knew her body could blush.

Steve ignored everybody staring at him and grabbed the hot bottle Helen held out to him. “Thanks.”

“Of course”, she smiled. “I also got some pads down here.”

“Those aren't the things that go inside...”

“No”, Nat interrupted him, “just the underwear. And you'll wear them, or you get to buy me a whole new wardrobe”, she added with the fake-sweetest grin.

“Cap. You don't have to answer if you don't want to”, Tony asked. “But... Did they teach sex-ed back in the day?”

“Tony, they didn't teach sex-ed when we were in school, hell, in many schools they don't even teach it today”, Bruce answered in Steve's place.

“Good point”, Tony nodded.

“You guys gonna teach Steve about what it's like to menstruate, right?”, Nat shot back and was happy to see Helen and Pepper with similarly pissed off expressions on their faces, at which the guys shied back. “Thought so”, she grumbled before turning to Steve. “Pain, moodiness and cravings, that's pretty much what you can expect. You're lucky, my cramps normally don't get that bad, so you'll be alright.”

“Not that bad?”, Steve cried out. “You mean this could get worse?”

“Oh, honey”, the three women answered in unison and just shook their heads.

“Would you like me to explain to you what is currently happening to your body?”, Helen asked with the fakest smile.

“It feels like my innards are liquidizing themselves.”

“That's pretty much what's happening”, Pepper nodded.

“How do you do this every month?”, he moaned and winced, clutching his stomach.

“You know it's just starting, right?”

“If I ever spoke bad about women, I take it all back and I am eternally sorry.”

“We are all so grateful”, Nat deadpanned and looked back at Cho. “Fun week ahead of us.”

“I'm a bit scared to interrupt”, Bruce threw in, “but it looks like my body is waking up...” He pointed over at the bed Thor occupied and man, was that necessary right now? Was one overemotional superhuman not enough?

“He's on you”, she made clear, “I already got my hands full with that”, she added with a nod to the curled up Steve.

“Fair enough”, he shrugged and walked up to Thor, who groggily opened his eyes.

“Clint, friend, what happened?”, he asked in his dazed confusion.

“Thor, I need you to just stay calm. Do you remember the fight?”

“I do.”

“Well, something happened to us, we don't know what yet, but we all woke up in the wrong body.”

“This is preposterous”, Thor answered. His authoritative and confident tone was definitely unusual look for Bruce's usually so restraint and quiet self.

“You are currently inhabiting the body of me, of Bruce Banner. Which is why I need you to stay calm as to not hulk out on us”, he explained and slowly it seemed to dawn on the god. He looked down himself, down the much smaller body and shit, as realization hit him, a slight green shimmer flickered on his face.

“Buddy, everything's alright”, Bruce kept on repeating and shooting Thor a warm and reassuring smile. “We're at the tower, Helen already made sure that we're not hurt and we have everything we need to find a cure. And that is a promise”, he added emphatically.

“I trust you, friend”, Thor eventually got out and his skin went back to its normal hue.

“Thanks”, Bruce smiled.

“Though I am starving”, he remarked.

“Yeah, that's from hulking out.”

“It is truly a weird sensation...”

“It is just as truly a weird sensation to hear Bruce talk like that”, Clint chuckled, prompting Thor to turn around to the Avengers.

“That's Clint”, Bruce explained, “Tony is in Steve, Steve in Nat and Natasha is currently inhabiting your body.”

“That is... confusing”, Thor goggled, eyeing his body curiously.

“I know”, Nat agreed.

Thor's face just broke into a wide smile. “I am glad then, that a warrior of fierceness, swiftness and strength such as you, Natasha, is taking care of my body. It is an honour”, he added and Nat couldn't help the proud smile spreading over her face.

“Thank you, Thor. I will do my best to honour your being.”

“I have not a single doubt. I propose further convening after dinner, though.”

“Sure. If the doc's ok with it, us non-sciency Avengers can scour the kitchen.”

“Yes”, Helen nodded, “get Thor something to eat and we'll do our job.”

“Thank you, doctor”, Thor smiled as he got off the bed. “This body is slightly smaller than what I am used to”, he remarked after catching his balance again.

“Don't worry”, Bruce laughed, “you'll get used to it.”

.

After dinner, Thor retired rather quickly to his room, being still exhausted from hulking out. Clint was busy texting with Laura, explaining why he wouldn't call or come home these next few days.

Sitting by herself wasn't something Nat was keen on right now, though. Yes, she was used to being isolated, being on her own but ever since she joined SHIELD and now the Avengers, she got used to enjoy having people by her side.

So she went down to the lab, where Bruce was typing around on a keyboard. Steve was still curled up on the bed; he had refused to move earlier and Nat had just managed to catch herself before calling him a wuss. By now he was fast asleep though and Bruce was working by himself. He seemed to have switch the aids off again, he didn't hear Nat walking in and jumped as she suddenly stood in front of him.

“Sorry, I didn't want to scare you.”, Nat apologized and sat down on a chair on the other side of the experimenting table.

“That's alright”, he smiled, “I just prefer to work in silence.”

“Can't blame you... Where are Tony and Helen?”

“Tony went to get some supplies from his labs for the brain wave scanner he's building and Cho has an appointment tonight.”

“And how are you?”

He smiled tiredly. “No idea. I'm comparing brain waves and feel like screaming in frustration, but I don't want to wake Steve. What about you?”

“Just wanted to check on you. You do look like you could do with a break.”

“Yeah, well I feel like I could do with my own body”, he retorted.

“Yeah... Watching Steve like this”, she halfheartedly nodded at him, “is really unnerving...”

“In a weird way I know how you feel... Watching Thor almost hulk out earlier was strange to say the least.”

Nat couldn't help but laugh at them bonding over their bodies being unpredictable wrecks and the guys going through all that, infecting Bruce.

“Listen”, he signed after a while, looking all sombre and earnest. “I still owe you an apology and somehow it feels easiest to do that without talking and while you don't look like yourself... Probably I'm just a coward.”

What was he talking about? “First of all I don't think you're a coward, and secondly I have no idea what you want to apologize for. But, if it'd make you feel better, you can apologize to me again when we're wearing our proper skins.”

“I might just do that”, Bruce smiled. “But still. I don't think I ever apologized for Hulk almost killing you, back when we had Loki on the ship.”

Bruce had not. And Natasha didn't want him to; she did her all to forget that day being dragged across the helicarrier to her certain death, if it hadn't been for Clint... As sure as Natasha was that she wanted to get back into her body, she knew that she wanted nothing less than talking about that.

“I'm so sorry, Natasha, I can't even...”

“Please don't”, she interrupted, “please just... don't.” Ugh, Natasha hated feeling and sounding weak, maybe even more now that she was in a skin embodying strength and power. But if they started talking about that, she'd probably just break down and that was something she needed even less than this blond mess on her head.

Bruce was silent, looking at her with wide eyes. With Clint's wide eyes; the face she couldn't lie to.

“Can we please not talk about that? I appreciate what you're trying to do, but please no.”

Bruce nodded, still looking like a kid that just witnessed their parents fight for the first time.

Just as he motioned to answer, Tony walked back in, his arm full of tools and wires and shit. “Romanoff, you wanna help out?”

“Sure thing”, she forced herself to grin at him, just catching Bruce's face falling before he, too, forced a smile. Tony didn't seem to notice anything; Nat ran into him in his mechanic-moods often enough to know that all Tony managed to focus on was the project on hand and his coffein intake.

“I'll leave you to your work”, she signed to Bruce, Tony probably already forgot she was there, buried between wrenches and screws and cables. She wouldn't even put it past him to have forgotten he was in the wrong body. There was no malice, his brain was just focused on his work right now.

“Sure thing”, Bruce answered, “talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah”, she nodded and the smile she shot him as she walked past wasn't even all that forced.

“Yo”, she patted her body on the shoulder. “Rogers, wake up.”

“What's happening?” He almost immediately sat up and cased his surroundings, only relaxing when he realized where exactly he was. “Hey. I assume I didn't dream all this confusion up and you're actually Natasha.”

“Yup”, she nodded and helped Steve on his feet. “Come on, let the nerds do their job and I'm sure you'll sleep better in your bed.”

“Sounds right”, he agreed as they walked back upstairs together, but he stopped awkwardly before heading to his room.

“What's wrong?”

“I don't want to sound like a stereotype but I really feel like chocolate or something...”, he admitted with a nervous blush.

“Right. Hunk-a-hulk-a-burning-fudge is my go-to craving-remedy.”

“Sounds good to me”, he agreed and a few moments later they sat criss cross on a couch, a container of ice cream between them, the only sound being the clinking of spoons for a while until Steve's snorted laughter broke the silence. “This is so fucked up.”

“Steve!” Nat could not remember ever hearing Steve swear, let alone use the F-word!

“I can't in good conscience let Natasha Romanoff go for that long without swearing”, he grinned back and gobbled up another spoon of ice cream.

“Aw, Steve”, she cooed, “ that is so sweet of you! Unfortunately, I believe your body has sworn more in the last six hours than it did in the last six months...”

“Probably”, he laughed, “but Stark deserves it. I mean he, Helen and Bruce are the ones to get us out of this mess, so if it helps his genius-process, let him swear away.”

Nat chuckled and enjoyed some more of the ice cream and took the chance to really take herself in. When would she ever get the chance to properly inspect her body like that?

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“You got my face there”, she shrugged. “And I don't know, it's interesting to see myself from the outside.”

“I get that appeal, though I assume for an outsider it looks like Thor's oggling Natasha”, Steve shot back with a skew grin.

“Can't blame him”, Nat snickered, “I look good.”

“I feel compelled to thank you for that compliment...”

“You really never looked better.”

.-.-.-.-.

“CODE GREEN!”

Alarms going off all around ripped Bruce out of uneasy dreams. He never heard that one before; and after having fallen asleep crouched over his desk, his brain took a moment longer than usual to start.

“SHIT!” Tony was quicker to react, from the looks of it he probably hadn't gotten even five minutes of sleep. “JARVIS, Hulkbuster!”

Oh. Well, made that made sense given that it was called 'Code Green' and that Bruce had never heard of it; with him usually being the one causing the alarm... He hurried after Tony, and not even Clint's much fitter body managed to keep up with Steve's long legs. They were barely up the stairs, when Bruce heard the growls and screams he only knew from recordings, videos and his nightmares.

To see Hulk – himself – like that was so much worse than he'd hoped it be. Pure rage and hatred emanated from Hulk as he smashed his way around the giant living room.

That was him; that was Bruce right there. He felt all the colour draining from his face and if he didn't have a wall right behind him to lean on, he'd probably have dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Bruce could only stare with wide eyes, as the Iron Legion cornered Hulk, making it all a million times worse.

It took a couch crashing against the wall just beside  him to get Bruce out of his trance. Right. Bruce had caused the Hulk, maybe he could just calm Thor.

“Hey buddy”, he tried to smile as he walked up to Hulk, doing all he could to ignore the jelly-like feel of his knees.

“Bruce”, Tony whispered, “do you really thing this is a good idea?”

“Yes, please don't get my body broken”, Clint hissed, but Bruce decided to ignore them both; except for motioning for Tony to get the Legion out the way.

“Thor, I know it's weird to be in this body. And I know it's terrifying.” He walked up to him with his palms out and locked eyes. “But that's alright. We're all terrified, but at least we are all in this together. So please, my friend. I'm asking you to trust me.” With that he held out his hand and either he'd be smashed or they'd get Thor back. If Bruce was being honest,  he wouldn't mind either option.

But doubt came over Hulk's face and Bruce could watch the rage slowly dropping as Hulk looked down on Bruce's (well, Clint's) hands. “It's alright, buddy”, he assured him again with a smile, that wasn't even forced.

And the giant green hand came down. Not in a fast punch, but gently, Hulk put his hands in Bruce's, and the green colour started to fade. “Listen, I know you're gonna feel bad now, but I'm here. I got you, I promise.” And the transformation started. This was gonna be a bad thing and definitely not pretty. Bruce barely remembered turning back; often he just came to again in ripped or – mostly – no clothes, in a usually smashed building and no recollection of the last how ever long it was that he had been terrorizing people around him.

Hulk – or was it Thor already? - began to scream and buck, as every muscle in his body spasmed. His skin flashed between deep green and Bruce's normal less than white skin colour, as he curled himself together and shrunk down. “I'm right here, you're gonna be alright”, Bruce kept on reassuring Thor, who was going through some pretty painful shit right now. He knelt by his side and kept his hand on Thor's shoulder who did look almost completely human by now. Looking over at Bruce with wide eyes, there was only a last glimmer of green flickering over his skin, which too, quickly faded away.

“Friend, what happened?” It was barely a hoarse whisper, but more than Bruce usually managed to get out after hulking out.

“You just hulked out on us”, he explained, “but everything is alright again.”

“I am so sorry!”, Thor apologized over and over again, “I truly am.”

“Don't worry about it. Happens to the best of us”, Bruce added with a grin, before he turned to the Avengers. “Can someone get some clothes for the god of thunder?”

Only now Thor realized that Bruce's pyjamas he had borrowed did not survive the hulking activities and blushed immensely. “My apologies, dear friend, for bringing your body into such improper circumstances.”

“Please, nothing I haven't seen yet”, Bruce chuckled, before Clint threw bunch of clothes in their directions, which Thor gratefully took.

“Gotta say”, Tony nodded and patted Bruce's shoulder as Thor dressed himself, “could use you around for every unplanned hulk out.”

“Uh yeah...”

“Friend Stark is right”, Thor smiled, dressed again and most his wits collected. “Thank you, from the bottom of my... well, your heart”, he added with a chuckle.

“Of course”, Bruce smiled back, well, tried to smile back. All that just happened hit him like a wrecking ball and as grateful as he was about Thor being – more or less – himself again, a part of Bruce wished he'd never seen this. Yes, Hulk never had been some purely theoretical being that just took over every time Bruce blacked out, all the pain and destruction was very real, but being face to face with this rage, this monster; this monster that was him...

“Get him something to eat, as much calories and sugar as you can get; Thor's gonna need that”, Bruce instructed. “And you need to rest”, he added in Thor's direction. He could barely look at the tired and exhausted face smiling over at him; the face of the deadly killing machine that caused so much harm.

Bruce had to get out of there, needed a place where he could break down in private, and that as quickly as possible.

Fussing over Thor, nobody seemed to notice him slipping out. He made for upstairs, for the roof; fresh air was what he needed, and maybe no one would go looking for him there. Though it was more staggering than anything else, Bruce made it up, stumbling out the roof door and all but collapsed on the cement floor.

But not even out here, with all that fresh air, he could breathe. It felt like someone kept on tightening a vice around his chest, constricting, squashing his innards... Being out of breath was the only thing keeping him from screaming his lungs out, cry out all that anger, fear, the pain, especially that shame and self-loathing.

Slowly Bruce crawled forward; blinded by emotions he wasn't even sure where he went, but maybe, if he moved, his body would go back to listening to him... Who was he kidding, this wasn't even his body! It wasn't his body that scraped itself bloody on the rough concrete, it wasn't his body that felt sick with hatred and hurt; it wasn't his body that just wouldn't let him die...

Oh.

Bruce could die in this body; he could actually die... And there would be nothing; no pain, no Hulk, no hatred...

Somehow he got to a wall, leaned against it and just let all the thoughts and feelings flow; he had no strength in him to fight all that; what little strength he had left Bruce had to focus into not suffocating and not throwing up. He wouldn't fight the tears any more, that was a lost cause so he let the tears roll off his cheek and took a deep breath.

He could die. But he'd also kill Clint's ride in the process. Clint didn't seemed to be bothered by a different skin that much though... He just was that type of person that rolled with the punches and made the best out of a bad situation. And besides, he'd keep all his skills with bow and arrows, he could be the shooting Ironman or something...

Yes, Hulk would still be around, but it wouldn't be Bruce's problem. If his conscience would let him get through with that though... Who cared, Bruce'd be dead, he wouldn't have a conscience any more!

“Penny for your thoughts?” Blinded by his tears, Bruce didn't even bother to look up at who walked up to him. He didn't need to; Thor's booming voice was unmistakeable. Of course, Natasha had followed him up here. She knew Clint after all, better than anybody else did. All the little tells, they were as obvious to her as a neon sign.

“I'm not that cheap.”

“Good”, she chuckled, “don't sell yourself short.”

Bruce was not in the mood for small talk, he just wanted to be left alone. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying the view”, she shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “And you?”

“Take a wild guess.” Balled on the ground, with tears running down his cheeks and his knees and hands scratched and bloody, it really wasn't that hard a conclusion.

“You want to talk about it?”

Bruce just shook his head. He got it now; he got why Nat wouldn't accept his apologies, wouldn't want to talk about Hulk. That face... His face was just such a hate-filled grimace, no signs of humanity, not even the slightest bit. Bruce was pretty sure that the only reason he had managed to calm Hulk down earlier was because he had Thor inside. As quick as Thor was to anger, he was even faster to calm and trust those he held close. If Bruce had been in there... It would have been a very different story.

“Listen”, Nat continued, “I know I said I didn't want to talk about it. But I also know that you're hurting and... I don't know, man, I'm just worried about you.”

“Why? Cause I got to see what kind of killing machine I really am?”, he shot back and looked up at her. “Cause I had to once experience what you live through every time the big guy's around?”

“Is that what's going through your head right now?”

Screw this. “You were right, about not wanting to talk about it”, Bruce scoffed, letting all the bitterness sound through. He was still a little weary on his knees as he got up and walked past her to the door. Well, maybe she did deserve to know what he was thinking, if only for him to be affronting. So, before the door closed behind him, he turned around one more time and locked eyes with her. “What's actually going through my head, is that in Clint's body, I could actually die”, he stated honestly, turned around and behind him the heavy door closed with a loud echoing bang.

.-.-.-.-.

“Boss.” JARVIS' voice ripped Tony away from his work. And he hated nothing more than being interrupted whilst mid-project

“What?”, he grunted, barely looking up from the circuitry.

“Your phone has been ringing for the last ten minutes.”

“Huh?” Properly looking up and even putting his screwdriver down, he heard the repeated beeping of his phone.

“It is Colonel Rhodes”, J informed him.

Well, he wouldn't want to let his Platypus wait! “Put him through, then.”

“Finally”, Rhodey's voice echoed through the lab, “I know you love watching the line blink but I might just take this personally.”

“Darling, you know I love you more than any blinking line”, Tony grinned back, “I'm just busy in the lab, is all.”

“And why do you sound like Steve?”

“As if you don't know”, he scoffed back and was a little miffed that he couldn't shoot his friend the death glare through a voice call, especially when Rhodey started laughing only moments later. “Well, happy you're having fun with this bullshit.”

“Sorry”, he chuckled, “I really am. Yes, Pepper told me and maybe, just maybe, I am kicking myself for being on a business trip right now. I don't suppose you'll still be sporting the latest Super-Soldier-body next week?”

“Not if I've got anything to do with it”, Tony made clear. “I get to interview that thing Thursday, building a brainwave reader right now. And then we'll see.”

“Sounds like a plan. So, how are you doing?” And like that, Rhodey's voice went from totally amused and a little bit mocking to supportive and understanding.

“Well, I already got to watch as Pepper kissed my body, even though Barton was inside and I'm wearing the skin of the man that fucked up my childhood. How do you think I'm doing?”

Rhodey was besides Pepper the only person, Tony didn't even think before speaking; not telling the truth didn't even occur to him when talking to his honeybear.

“I get that... Maybe you should talk to Steve, let him know.”

“Well, he's definitely got bigger problems than my unresolved daddy issues, which aren't his fault. He was dead then, there's nothing he can do”, Tony sighed. It was a little unfair of him to hate Steve the way he did. Well, it probably wasn't hatred any more, but still.

“Do you want me to come home?”

What now? “Rhodey, I'm a grown man. I'm not some fifteen year old college student any more.”

“My duty of care did not end the day you turned 18, or 21. That duty will extend to the day either of us bow out. Well, until you do. Because rest assured if I die before you – and that's a big if – you can bet your pretty ass I'll haunt you if you don't look after yourself, so let me ask again: do you need me to come home?”

“Oh, honeybear!”, Tony cooed and he was admittedly a little lost for words and tearing up just a little bit, which he would vehemently deny if accused of that. “You don't. But I can't even tell you how much I love you for offering just that.”

“I love you, too. There's just one concern...”

“Yes?”

“Just because this body you're having now is young and enhanced, it doesn't mean you can work for 72 hours straight.”

Man, Rhodey just knew him too well, which was an amazing thing, of course. “Well, you'll be happy to know that I am only on hour... JARVIS, when did we get back from South America?”

“27 hours ago.”

“And two of those 27 hours I was being treated by Helen and shit, so I'm only on hour 25.”

“JARVIS”, Rhodey sighed, and Tony could see him shaking his head at that. “If he reaches 36 hours without sleep, you are hereby authorized to cut all the power to the lab.”

“Yes, I will”, JARVIS confirmed and Tony could only groan.

“J, you're my AI, not his.”

“As your AI, that is named and created after the person responsible to look after you, it is my foremost task to keep you as safe as I can”, he stated simply and Tony swore, he saw Jarvis, the human Jarvis, standing in the corner, his arms crossed and shaking his head at Tony.

“Fine”, he groaned. “Just remember: I built the first Ironmansuit in a cave in the desert in Afghanistan.”

“Tones, we're fucking worried about you”, Rhodey cried out. “You little shit are important to me, to Pepper, to JARVIS, so I don't give a fuck if you don't care about your life, because I do. How do you think I'll feel if you work yourself to death? So don't even think I'll apologize for having you locked out of the lab.”

Woah. That went a lot deeper than Tony had anticipated. Feeling a blush creeping up his face, he looked down, unsure of what he should say.

“I'm sorry”, he eventually mumbled, feeling like his 10 year old self being reprimanded by Aunt Peggy.

“I know you are. Just behave yourself and I don't have to feel like I'm mothering you.”

“Please, you love mothering me”, Tony shot back smirking.

“I shall neither confirm nor deny these accusations.” As stern as he tried to sound, Tony knew Rhodey was fighting hard to keep the grin down. “Listen, Ross is calling, I need to get back to work.”

“Do you need a rescue call in like half an hour?”, Tony laughed and delighted when Rhodey joined in.

“Ross already can't stand you, do you really want to push it?”

“Remember, I'm Steve right now. I can pull a lot of strings with the US army.”

“Tempting, very tempting”, Rhodey chuckled. “But as long as you are alright enough to do your job, I'll do mine. And talk to you soon, alright?”

“Yeah. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Tones.”

.-.-.-.-.

It was no surprise to Thor that he'd find Banner in the labs. He, Tony and Helen had barely left their microscopes, computers and machinery behind, working overtime to fix their unfortunate situation.

So focused on his work, Bruce didn't even seem to notice Thor calling out for him, not until he was right in front of the scientist.

“Thor, sorry, I didn't hear you”, he apologized and reached up to his ear. “Some of the machines are really loud and I prefer to work in quiet, so I switched the hearing aids off.”

“That I can understand”, Thor smiled and sat himself opposite Bruce.

“How can I help you then?”

“I have been informed that there is a presentation Bruce has to do, and I thought it prudent to ask you about the contents, so I might be a convincing Dr Banner.”

“Oh, that... You don't have to worry about that”, Bruce smiled, “I cancelled the lecture.”

“Oh.” Huh. Did he not think Thor capable enough? His hurt must have shown on his face, Bruce was quick to explain his reasoning. “This has nothing to do with you. But it's not just a presentation, it's a discussion panel and I can't teach you everything by tomorrow. Even if I could, I think it would help all of us so much more if I focused on reversing this.” He gestured between him and Thor.

“Right.” Thor still didn't fully buy what Bruce sold. Especially one little doubt was nagging in the back of his head. “Is it because of yesterday morning, when I hulked out on...”

“No, it's not”, Bruce interrupted. “You don't have to feel bad about that. Nobody is blaming you, least of all me”, he added with a smile. “It wasn't your fault.”

“I still feel guilty”, he admitted. He had destroyed so much property in only a few short minutes; if Bruce hadn't managed to calm him again... Thor truly did not want to know what would have happened, what he would have done to his friends. “If it weren't for my temper...”

“Buddy, I know exactly how you feel. And that's why you can believe when I say that it's alright.”

“Though I am aware that there is no reason to doubt your word, I still feel responsible and in all honesty, afraid.” It was true, Thor was scared to even raise his voice, out of fear he'd turn into that creature. Ever since yesterday's incident he had hidden himself away in his room, barely leaving it. He hated it with a passion, hated weakness and fear. He hated it almost as much as admitting to it. But if there was one person in this situation he could trust, it was Banner. “How are you not terrified?”

Bruce got off his chair and sat next to Thor on the bench. “I'm not scared of you. Why should I, as boisterous as you might be, you are even more loyal and trustworthy. Yesterday, when I talked Hulk down... I was only able to do that because you trusted me enough to let go of the fear. If it would have been anybody else, I don't know they would have been so quick to trust.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

“I do”, Bruce nodded and locked eyes with Thor. “A good man might not be able to keep from hulking out, but he might be strong enough to trust to let go of Hulk.”

“Wow”, Thor smiled, “nicely said. And a very empowering philosophy.” If his friend understood it that way, then why shouldn't Thor? And if his friend truly believed him to be a good man, then there was no need for him to be afraid, was there? “It pains me to say this, but that would make you, my friend, the strongest Avenger...”

“Well”, Bruce laughed, “Hulk can't be killed, so this is sort of not that big an accomplishment...”

“I am not talking about Hulk”, Thor clarified. “I am talking about you, Bruce Banner and your strength. It is formidable, awe-inspiring to say the least.”

“Wait.” Bruce's expression changed into something somewhat annoyed, almost angry. “Did you talk with Natasha?”

“I have not”, he answered truthfully, confused as to what the doctor was insinuating. “Why?”

“Nothing”, Bruce quickly waved it off, but Thor could recognize the force behind his smile. “Thank you, for the compliment”, he got back on topic. “I'm not sure I believe it just yet, but thank you, nonetheless.”

“I speak only the truth.”

“I appreciate it.” The doctor flushed ever so slightly, and turned his face downwards, trying to hide his blush. It seemed, that Thor should not keep on praising the rather shy and restrained scientist; during his time on earth he has learned that, unlike Asgardians, many earthlings, like Banner, didn't like to boast with their accomplishments.

“So, it seems then that you shall not teach me about earthly physics”, Thor changed the topic and Bruce seemed to be grateful.

“You're welcome to stay, I could use another set of hands; Tony is so busy working on his scanner project, he's practically useless to me.”

“Huh?” Thor hadn't even realized that Stark, who now resurfaced between metal scraps and cables, was in the laboratory. “Heard my name. Oh, hi Thor. When did you get here?”

“Ignore him”, Bruce advised Thor, before waving Tony off. “Nevermind, get back to work.” With a grin and a shrug, Stark disappeared again.

“You don't have to stay, though”, Bruce turned back to Thor. “I'm sure there are more entertaining things to be done than comparing brainwave data.”

“Actually, I would like to see the work process”, Thor smiled enthusiastically. He truly was interested and had already been looking forward to learn from the doctor. And, even though it wasn't gamma radiation, brain activity was just as interesting a subject to study. “And if I can be of any help, I'll gladly support you.”

“Right then, let me show you what I'm doing.” Bruce motioned for Thor to join him in front of a big monitor, over which waves of different heights, widths and colours danced. “Those are our results, these here are yours.” He pointed at a yellow line. “Now I'm just trying to find where our waves overlap with the electrical current of the goo. That's the brown one.”

“What do you hope to achieve?”

“I hope to find the points of overlapping activity to see which points of our brains it's attacking.”

“Ah, I see”, Thor nodded, “if we know where our psyche is being attacked, we know where to inhibit it's influence on us.”

“Exactly”, Bruce smiled. “Well, let's get to it, then.”

.

“Hey, I've been missing you all afternoon”, Natasha smiled at Thor, as he made his way into the common room.

“I have been in the laboratories with Bruce, deciphering our brainwaves. And now I see colourful wavey lines dancing in front of my eyes”, he reported, before sitting down on the couch opposite her and Captain Rogers. As interesting as it had been to work with Banner, it was incredibly taxing on Thor's brain. He truly had no idea how the scientist Avengers worked on things like that for hours, no, for days on end.

“Impressive”, Nat praised him. “I've been looking after this one all day.” She nodded at Steve, who had a container of Hunk-a-hulk-a-burning-fudge in his hands.

“I'm a disaster”, he explained, sniffling ever so slightly.

“Captain, don't be saddened! We all have challenges in our new bodies, there is no need to be melancholic.”

“He's not”, Natasha explained, “he's hormonal and has no clue how to handle that.”

“Oh. I see”, he nodded. Natasha's body seemed to be even more of a challenge than Bruce's was for Thor... “I already praised Banner for being the strongest of us all, with him having to deal with the Hulk, but I assume that you, Natasha, and all the other women, are just as strong, if not more, having to deal daily with difficulties that have even the strongest warriors crying and in pain.”

“Thank you, Thor”, she smiled.

“I completely agree”, Steve nodded. “Women are fierce!”

.-.-.-.-.

“Hi Pepper!” Tony's voice ripped her away from her paperwork. Right, it wasn't Tony, it was Clint, who now sat down opposite her.

“Clint, great. I tried everything to cancel that presentation that Tony has tomorrow, but no chance. You'll have to get through that.”

“As long as you tell me what I need to say, I should do just fine.”

“It's not just that though.” The real Tony strutted into Pepper's office and smiled at her with wide beaming eyes, before turning Clint. “You gotta be me. Attitude and all.”

“Please”, Clint scoffed, “if you can be demure and shit like Rogers, I can be like you.”

“Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it”, Tony waved him off, but didn't grace him with too much of a side glance. Instead he didn't break eye contact with Pepper. And it was so weird.

Pepper had to repeatedly tell herself that it was not Steve that shot her these heart eyes and that it was not Tony that tried to avoid looking at her.

“Ok, we need to get you guys back into your skin”, she just shook her head after a while.

“No arguments from me”, Clint grinned. “Let's get through this one first, though.”

“Good idea”, Pepper nodded, broke away from Tony's look and turned to Clint. “It's not too difficult though, you got the entire talk on these index cards.” She put them down in front of Clint and he leafed through them, before looking back up at her.

“So, I need to be trained in 'How To Be Tony Stark?' I mean, I've seen how you act in front of a camera for years on end. Be dangerously self-confident, insolent and don't give two shits about authorities.”

“That sums it up nicely”, Pepper chuckled.

“Right”, Tony grumbled, “the magic is doing all that and still being a beloved public figure.”

“I thought all those investor-dudes can't stand the sight of you”, Clint shot back with a smirk.

“Yeah, I guess they don't”, Tony shrugged.

“There will be press though”, Pepper threw in, before Tony could make some comment about Clint not needing to give a shit about the presentation. “And it's not investors; you don't want their money. You will present the newest arc-reactor upgrades to SI shareholders, a bunch of scientists and therefore you might not want to make them hate you, or well, Tony. At least not any more than they already do.”

“I think I can do that”, he nodded, adding with a grin: “I'm a charming person.”

“Tony tells me that every time I brief him on his presentations. And well, you know how that usually plays out.”

“Hey!”, Tony protested, “I'm a charming person to be around!”

“No, you're not”, Pepper and Clint agreed. “I still love you, though”, she added and Tony was once again all smiles.

“That's honestly all that matters”, he beamed.

“So”, Clint interrupted their romantic eye contact, “you regularly tell Tony what you're telling me today?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Pepper turned to Clint with a shrug. “Unless it's about his iron suits, Tony's got the attention span of a gold fish. And like you so nicely said, he can't be bothered to give two shits not only about authority, but also PR. Making my life so much harder”, she sighed.

“You still fell in love with me”, Tony grinned, leaning back in the chair.

“Alright.” Clint cleared his throat. “I'm gonna leave you two alone and read through this.” He waved with the index cards and awkwardly got up.

“Thank you, Barton.”

“Yeah, least I can do since you're working to get us out of this shit”, Clint grinned and, with a last wave, he left Pepper's office.

“Yeah”, Tony cleared his throat, “I'd better get back on that. Before this”, he gestured between them, “gets any worse. Who am I kidding”, he snorted a laugh, “we probably got enough cause for couple's therapy as it is, without Steve wanting to be with you...”

Tony definitely had a point. “Agreed”, she nodded. “Though I might just be 12% attracted to Steve...”

“Alright”, he laughed and got up. “Will that be all Ms Potts?”

“Yes”, she beamed up, “that'll be all.”

.-.-.-.-.

After going through the presentation index cards for the third time, Clint could have sworn his brain had turned to goo. He let the cards drop and sprawled himself out, resting his head in Nat's, well, Thor's lap.

“Sounds like the genius IQ was not transferred with Stark's body”, she remarked, not looking up from her book though.

“I mean, can you lift the hammer?”, he shot back.

Tasha stilled for a moment, but barely long enough to recognize it. At least if you didn't know her like Clint did. “We both know I'm not worthy”, she eventually shrugged.

“Maybe it's better that way”, he grinned up at her and finally she glanced down and locked eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“That I would hate if you had to move to another planet to rule it. I mean, that'd be one sucky commute.”

“Yes, it would be”, she chuckled, before giving her attention back to the story she was reading.

Unsure what else to do, Clint grabbed his phone, intent on daddling around a bit. But his lockscreen picture had him stop: It was taken only a few weeks ago, by Nat actually. Cooper was climbing up Clint's back, grinning cheekily over his shoulder; Laura leaned against his chest, cradling Lila.

Clint just had to talk to his wife. They had only messaged so far, to keep the confusion as minimal as possible, but that just wouldn't do any more. So, consequences be damned, he pressed the call button and only three beeps later, Laura picked up.

“Clint? Is it you?”

“Hey honey”, he sighed, feeling so much better for hearing her voice. “yeah. I know I sound like Stark but it's me.”

“I think I might be able to get over that”, she chuckled. “How are you doing?”

“So good now that we're talking. How are you and the kids?”

“We're alright. You are dearly missed, though.”

“I miss you guys, too.” Clint could start crying any moment now, this sucked majorly. She didn't look down, but a hand came down, gently patting his head. Tasha just was the best friend anybody could ever ask for...

“Are things moving forward at least?”

“No idea, honestly... For now I need to officially be Tony Stark, got to do a presentation about the arc reactor...”

“Oh my”, Laura laughed, the most heavenly sound he had ever heard. “You're gonna do a scientific presentation?”

“Hey!”, he protested, “not fair! I'm smart...”

“Sorry, honey”, she chuckled, “I know you are. You're the smartest husband I've ever had.”

“Haha”, he deadpanned, before he couldn't keep the chuckles down any more.

“You're gonna do just well, I completely believe in you.”

“Thanks. Oh by the way, Nat says hi.”

“Who is she again? Will I have an eternal shock when I say hi to her?”

“Probably”, he chuckled and handed the phone over to Nat. “Laura wants to talk to you.”

“Alright. Hey, Laura. Yes, I am Thor. I'm glad you're enjoying this”, she deadpanned and switched on the speaker. Laura's laughter filled the room, and Clint couldn't help but chuckle along to this most heavenly sound.

“The only thing better than that is that Steve is in Tasha's body, menstruating at the moment”, he laughed.

“Oh, that poor guy. Clint, you don't get to make fun of somebody's period.”

“Thank you, Laura, I've been telling him that all week.”

“Good. It's not like you need my permission, but if you deem it necessary go all god of thunder on his ass.”

“Permission appreciated.”

“Uhm, no?”, Clint threw in, “definitely not appreciated!”

“You're right”, Laura nodded, “Nat doesn't need to be a Norse god to kick your behind from here to Budapest.”

“That's true”, he admitted, looking up at his friend. “I'm definitely more afraid of the ginger Russian than blondie from the Maybelline poster.”

“That's because you're smart”, Tasha grinned.

“And that is smart enough to absolutely rock that presentation tomorrow.”

“Thanks, honey”, Clint grinned.

“So, it sounds like Lila is up. I'll go check on her, you get enough rest and call me after the presentation to tell me how great you did, ok?”

“Promise. Tell Lila and Cooper that their dad loves them so much and will soon be home again.”

“Same goes for Auntie Nat.”

“I'll tell them. The three of us love you, too.”

“Him or me?”, Tasha grinned.

“Nat, you know you'll always be the love of my life”, Laura chuckled. “But Clint, I love you, too.”

“Wow”, he deadpanned and met Nat's smirk head on. “Well, I got to kiss Pepper.”

“Excuse me, you did what?”

“Isn't Lila calling?”, Clint shot back instead.

“Right then. I still love you.”

“I love you, too.”

.

“Alright, Clint.” Pepper patted his shoulder with a reassuring smile. “You're gonna do just fine. You got the notes, be a little overconfident and nothing can go wrong.”

Right. He could do this. He could be Tony Stark, no problems. He gave Pepper the thumbs up and she gently pushed him towards the stage entrance. Shoulders squared, he strutted out on the stage. Luckily there were so many lights on him that he couldn't see how full the audience was.

“Good evening and hello”, he greeted everybody. “I'm assuming you all know who I am, otherwise you wouldn't be here.” That got him a chuckle and it seemed like everything was off to a good start.

He leaned against the lectern and, in the most Tony Stark-like fashion he could, he glanced over his glasses into the room, before taking a first look at his index cards. “Since not everybody might be caught up on what keeps me alive, let me give you a crash course in my magnetically powered heart.”

All night long, Clint had studied what was on these cards, so he could speak as freely as possible about something that, according to everybody in this room, was the one thing he knew more about than anything else.

It wasn't like he understood what any of these cards said, Clint wasn't even sure all of it was English, but as long as he only had to read them out, he'd be alright.

It was admittedly a lot of fun. Clint wasn't exactly the most boisterous person on the planet, but somehow that just came with the body and soon enough, he could just pepper in a few jokes here and there.

“The following I will keep to myself, because, well, if you knew, you might be able to give me a heart attack and I just know that there are a handful of investors and members on my board that can't wait for that to happen to me. Yes, I see you, Justin Hammer”, he winked and a laugh went through the room. The more his jokes landed, the cockier he got, he had to admit that. But the time flew by, and Clint didn't realize how far through the presentation they were, until he got to the last index card.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you know that I am smarter than you. Thanks for listening and until next time!”

After a few exaggerated bows, Clint walked off stage, where Pepper was already waiting with a proud smile. “Fantastic job, Clint.”

“Really?”

“Yes”, she nodded. “You were almost as obnoxious as Tony, read through all the information perfectly and your stand-up isn't half bad.”

“Thanks”, he grinned back, feeling his cheeks blushing. “It was actually a lot of fun.”

“It did look like it was. You can be proud, you were fantastic up there.”

“Well, I assume it's safe to say that you're slightly biased there...”

“No, because Tony wasn't up on that stage there, that was a lot of work that you put into this presentation, more than Tony ever did. Maybe you should stick like that, it would make at least my job a lot easier.”

No, he needed to be Clint again, asap. He wanted to go home, wanted to kiss his wife, hug his children and never ever talk about arc-reactors and shit again. “I appreciate the compliment, but I think we're all better fitted where we belong.”

“Also true. Right then, I need to take care of everything here, you're free to get back to the tower and join Natasha in looking after Steve, stress on looking after, not teasing”, she added.

“Don't worry, I won't”, he nodded, “promise.”

“Off you go then. And thank you, so, so much! Saved us all a world of pain.”

Clint tipped his imaginary hat, turned around, where Nat was already standing. “What are you doing here?”

“I watched you presentation, you doofus.” She boxed his arm and motioned for them to walk back together. “You did good. Very Stark-like.”

“Thanks. All the cameras, lights and attention kinda goes straight to your head, it's incredible.”

“You gonna get a big head now?”

“Yes”, he deadpanned. “I'm gonna be the next genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”

“Remember, I have your wife's approval to go all god of thunder on your ass”, Nat reminded him.

“I know you do. And I would like to leave you be right now and call that same wife and tell her how awesome and smart her husband is.” He shot Nat a grin and headed straight for the privacy of his room and the wonderfulness that was hearing Laura's voice.

.-.-.-.-.

This was ridiculous. Steve felt like a caricature come to life, as he gobbled up chocolate ice cream, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket on the couch. He had actually bawled his eyes out, when they watched some cartoon movie about lions last night. Shit, he felt himself already tearing up again, when he thought about Simba, mourning his dad... Thankfully, Tony barged in, before Steve could lose himself some more in all these freaking hormones and emotions.

“Rogers, lets make this quick so I can get back into the lab and finish my work before heading to DC tomorrow.” He dropped opposite of Steve on the couch, and looked at him expectantly. “What's gonna happen to me there?”

“No idea, actually”, he shrugged and put the container down. “They never tell me what exactly they want to do. Sometimes it's just a photo-op, recording a PSA or something...”

“PSAs? Really?”

“Yeah”, Steve shrugged. “They're admittedly super cheesy.” Embarrassingly so, actually... Steve felt himself blushing.

“What kind of contract do you have there?”

“They approached me shortly after I thawed out and asked me if I was willing to use my celebrity status as an educational figure, PBS style. I'm basically their Elmo.”

“That is kinda depressing”, Tony stated after a moment. “They tell you jump and you ask how high?”

“I guess... But helping out teachers and students isn't a bad thing and that's why I accepted.”

“That's noble”, Tony nodded.

Steve didn't buy that. Tony was the exact opposite of what this campaign stood for! “You don't think it's noble, you think it's boring.”

“It can be both”, Tony grinned back.

“Oh really? How do you think you can properly sell this, while thinking you're above all that?” Steve felt his voice (well, Nat's voice) pitch higher, but he didn't care, he was angry at Tony. Why wouldn't he be, Steve was building up his life again in a world so foreign to him, and Tony ridiculed it all!

“Steve”, Tony held his hands out, “I seriously think it's great what you're doing for students all over the country.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course”, Tony nodded with a wide smile. “I do. And I'll do my best tomorrow, I promise.”

“Thank you”, Steve smiled and his chest felt all warm and fluffy. He was so touched that Tony would take this so seriously. “It means everything to me.”

“Yeah, alright”, Tony nodded and moved to leave for, probably the lab, again.

“Are you?”

“What?” He paused and turned back to Steve.

“Are you alright?”, he repeated his question. Something felt weirdly off, and he didn't mean his horrible mood swings.

“I'm just stressed, is all”, he shrugged it off, but Steve didn't buy it.

“You sure?”

“Rogers”, Tony groaned and crossed his arms. “Don't start something you don't want to.”

“I don't want to force you to talk”, Steve shrugged. “But if you have an issue with me or my body, I'd like to help out any way I can to make it better.”

“Nice offer, but I don't think you can. So, unless you have anything against that, I'd like to get back to my lab and into my body, before Pepper has to fall in love with you, too.”

“Too?”

“Fuck”, he sighed and stopped. Still had his back turned to Steve, but he didn't motion to storm off anymore. “My Dad.”

It was a quiet mumble, but Steve was sure he didn't mishear him. “Howard?”

Tony turned to Steve, his face as rigid as that of a statue and a hard expression. “My entire childhood I got to compete with you, a then still dead guy, for my Dad's attention. I lost. Whatever I did, it couldn't compare to the Amazing Captain America, Howard's greatest ever creation. But hey, all in the past”, he scoffed with a shrug.

“Oh, Tony... I'm so sorry!” Steve felt the tears rising in his eyes, but that didn't matter. How the hell could any father do that to their son?

“Yeah, whatever”, Tony waved it off.

“No, not whatever”, Steve made clear and walked up to him. “I am really sorry and I can't even imagine how much you must have hated me. And I can't even fault you, if you still do.”

“Well, it's not hatred anymore.” Tony offered Steve a half-hearted smile. “I did however spend the last few days cursing that fucking Alien. Even though your body is younger and enhanced”, he added with a scoff.

“If it makes you feel any better, the last few days I've been feeling similarly horrible as before the serum.”

“It does a bit”, Tony admitted with a grin.

“Good. I don't know if there's anything I can do to help you to feel better around me, and if it is to punch me in the face, I'll be happy to let you do that. But, knowing both you and Howard, I can definitely say that you're the way better man by far.”

“Thanks”, Tony smiled, and it looked like a real smile, “that means a lot.”

“Good. Now I have this urge to hug you, even if it might be weird to hug my own body”, he grinned.

“Yeah, no”, he shook his head. “Let's not push it.”

“Of course”, Steve nodded and sat himself back on the couch, where the hot water bottle and the ice cream already waited for him. “Thank you, though. For being honest with me. Means everything.”

“Right.” Tony clearly was not used to this sort of compliment and he looked a little awkwardly, before nodding at him again and walking out of the common room.

Huh. This whole body swap was really a lot more taxing on everybody's psyche, issues and their relationships than Steve would have ever imagined... Well, at least these things were out in the open now. And maybe, one day, they'd get this sorted out.

.-.-.-.-.

“Mr Rogers!” Tony was greeted by a young woman with a wide beaming smile. “I'm so sorry, I know you usually deal with Mrs Carrigan, but she has an urgent appointment out of town and can't be with us today. I am Cecily Myers and I hope you don't mind working with me for the day.”

“Of course not, it is wonderful to meet you. And of course I understand, Mrs Carrigan” - whoever that was - “is a busy woman.”

“Thank you, for your understanding. So, if you would follow me, Mr Rogers.”

“Please, call me Steve”, Tony 'corrected' her and shot her a warm smile.

“Right then Steve. Shall we?”

They went up an elevator and along a wide, light filled corridor, until they reached what looked like a makeshift movie set.

“Steve, you can change into your suit in the room over there”, Cecily explained. “In the meantime we'll set everything up. Oh, I'm so sorry for not asking before hand, but can I offer you something? A coffee, maybe?”

“That would be very kind, thank you.”

“I'll get right on that, then.” With a last smile, she hurried off, disappearing in the masses of people, who all turned around to Tony with varying degrees of starstruckness, greeting and waving excitedly.

That, Tony was used to and he waved back, all smiles with every shy greeting he got, as he made his way to the room, Cecily had pointed out to him. Tony had no idea what he was about to do here, it looked like they were going to shoot a video. But Tony was just gonna let all that come at him. He was already in the wrong fucking skin, what else could they throw at him?

“Mr Rog... Steve, everything alright?” Cecily knocked at the door.

Well, Cap's suit was definitely harder to put on than his Ironsuit, and he could definitely use a hand. But he shouldn't ask the girl out there, she already seemed to be in way over her head and a shirtless Captain America was not gonna help the situation. “I'll only be a moment”, he called back and squeezed into the tight leather.

When he finally managed to get out, she awaited him with a cup of steaming coffee and a wide smile.

“Thank you, Cecily”, he smiled and gratefully took the cup. “It's delicious”, Tony lied after taking two or three sips and forced the disgusted expression down.

“Then I'm glad.” She directed Tony towards two chairs and motioned for him to sit down. “While they finish setting everything up, I'm going to brief you on today's mission”, she grinned.

“Wow, you know the lingo”, Tony chuckled, and the girl blushed slightly.

It was almost adorable, well it would be, if she wasn't fangirling about Cap right now. He wasn't as bad as Tony had always thought he was, though he still forced himself to not like Howard's idol. Sure, he got the appeal, if only the idolization of Captain America, the US' most beloved and decorated war hero...

“Anyways”, she cleared her throat. “We want to shoot three more PSAs with you today. The ones we have recorded already played in schools all over the country and the reception was quite positive. So much so, that teachers have submitted topics they think important and necessary. Those are profanity, healthy sleeping patterns and substance abuse.”

Oh, they had to be fucking kidding him! Tony, recording PSAs about not swearing, not staying up for 36 hours at a time and fucking doing drugs? The god of irony really had it out for them these last few days...

“Sure”, he forced himself to stay calm and collected and not snort out at the idea of him telling kids not to say fuck. “Our teachers know best what their students' issues are and I can see those things negatively affecting children.” I also know from personal experience that all that makes for a mind-numbingly boring existence. Fine, Tony was aware that his lifestyle wasn't healthy, but there was a reason they asked Cap to do this, and not Ironman.

“Exactly. We really appreciate the schools' feedback and of course strife to make their jobs the easiest we can.”

Wow, that sounded like it was verbatim taken from the Department of Education's website. It probably was; that girl wasn't older than 25 and looked like she never had to do more than get somebody a coffee. And now, being in charge of a widely known and popular figure, she had to give it her all to sound convincing and as if she had done this all her life.

“Yeah... Listen.” He lowered his voice and leaned a bit closer in, trying to get her to open up to him, to loosen up. “I know I've done this a few times, but I think I might be a little nervous...”

“Really?”

No, not at all.

“I don't know, I just... I'm not used to all this”, he gestured vaguely around the room, at the cameras. “I'm a soldier”, he shrugged. “All the cameras and interviews and things... Besides all that modern technology I don't really understand... It feels like I'm a fish on dry land.”

“I didn't expect that at all, if I'm being honest.”

How much further should Tony go until he was laying it on too thick? “It's just... Mrs Carrigan can be quite scary”, he whispered, hoping to God that this woman he had never met and never even heard of was not a nice and gentle lady.

“Yeah, she can get intense”, Cecily chuckled and Tony was very glad that his bluff didn't just blow up. “As her PA I know that better than anybody...”

“Of course”, he smiled. “Well, I just get the feeling you and I will work wonderfully together, without her.”

“Yeah”, she agreed with a beaming smile. “I do, too.”

“We're ready!”, one of the camera guys called and Tony gulped down the last bit of this disgusting coffee and took his stance by the chair, they had propped up in the middle of the makeshift stage, in front of a green screen.

“For this one we'll digitally add a classroom into the background, so if you'd just sit on the chair, and read out the cards we have here, that'd be perfect”, some guy who hadn't introduced himself but Tony assumed to be the director, gestured wildly around. Tony wasn't exactly sure what that guy tried to communicate with his waving, but it'd be best to just smile and nod along. And the sooner he'd get through this, the sooner he could get to SHIELD and find out what he came to DC for.

Tony gave him the thumbs up and sat himself down, trying to look as authoritative and stern as he could.

“That's perfect. And please in three, two one...” With a wave, the director motioned for Tony that the recording started and Tony read out what was on the poster in front of him.

“Hi, I'm Captain America. And today I'd like to talk to you about an enemy that has forced it's way into our classrooms, our society, and is intent on breaking our proper American values. Yes, I'm talking about swearing.” Oh fuck, this was so cheesy! “You might think it's cool, but what you see as edgy, comes across as hurtful, disrespectful or offensive. So, take it from a soldier that even on the front lines, respect is the one thing that keeps us united.” And that straight up did not make any sense.

“And cut!”, the director yelled. “Good job, Cap”, he called out in Tony's direction, didn't take his eyes off the screen in front of him, though. “Give us a moment and we'll continue with the next one.”

Tony was ushered off the set and some furniture and some lamps were moved around.

“That was pretty good”, Cecily praised him, coming up to his side.

“Thank you. It's not as bad as I remembered it”, he smiled.

“And that's all I can hope for. Looks like they're ready for you again.” She nodded towards the set and gave him an encouraging nudge to the shoulder. Confiding in her had really helped her and she looked so much more confident than she had barely thirty minutes ago. That was something Tony was already more proud of than all the horrible videos they were shooting.

This time, he was directed to lean against a table, and once again look straight at the camera as he read out: “Hi, I'm Captain America. As someone who has been asleep for 65 years, I know how important a regular sleeping pattern is. Your brain and body need their time to rest and to recharge. Eight hours every night make for a fit, healthy and smart student. And a tired zombie won't do you any good on the battlefield or the classroom, trust me; I've had my fair share of those.”

“And cut!”

Tony couldn't even remember the last time he had slept eight hours consecutively... He probably didn't even get to eight if he added the last few days up... But there was no time for Tony to dwell on it, they almost immediately had him propping his foot up on a chair, holding the shield into the camera and reading out:

“Hi, I'm Captain America. And today, I would like to talk to you about drugs. You might have seen a lot about using on television, maybe even some of your friends tried to tell you how cool it is to smoke weed. But take it from someone who has been frozen for 65 years: drugs aren't cool. Drugs attack your neural system and can fundamentally change and screw up your body's chemistry. It is about as cool as flying an airplane into the Arctic Ocean. It's not. So, be cool about it and don't do drugs.”

“And cut! Thank you, that's a wrap on Captain America!”

Everybody in the room started clapping and for a short moment, Tony was tempted to bask in the praise, until he remembered that Steve wasn't that big on attention. Which was a contradiction in itself: why then would he run around in a bright red, white and blue leather suit?

“Thank you”, he smiled around the clapping people and made straight for Cecily who greeted him with a wide and warm smile.

“Great job, Steve.” She patted his shoulder and the praise made Tony flush a little bit.

“Thank you”, he smiled back, “couldn't have done it without you.”

“Of course you could have”, she shook her head and turned it ever so slightly, so Tony wouldn't catch her blushing. “Right, you can change back into your normal clothes if you'd like.”

Tony very much would like to do that; as good as the tight suit looked on him, he just had that thing about leather and was happy to get back into simple jeans and a shirt. Although... Properly inspecting himself in the mirror like that, maybe, just maybe, Tony would need to make a few tweaks on the suit, once Steve had his body back. Because that suit right here? Did nothing for his ass. Nothing at all. And hey, if you got it, flaunt it, right?

It wasn't too much later, when Cecily escorted Tony back to the parking lot, where he had parked Steve's motorbike.

“Thank you again for your time and for loaning us your face”, she chuckled.

“If it helps keeping America's kids on the right path, then that's all the thanks I need.” Wow, Stark, putting it on a bit thick here.

“That is all we can hope for.”

“Well, I for one believe that our children are in good hands.” With a wide smile, he held his hand out to her. “Thank you for your support. And next time you need my face...”

“We won't hesitate to call”, she grinned back and shook Tony's hand.

“That, and I also expect the title of PA only to be left on your resumée. You're too good for just making coffee”, he assured her as she motioned to argue. “Anyways, I'll hope to see you here next time.”

“Thank you, Steve”, she smiled and this time didn't even bother to hide her blushed face. “I'm already looking forward.”

.

“Cap, what the hell are you doing here?”, Fury demanded to know. “You're still under medical lockdown!”

Alright, time to be the most convincing Steve Tony could be. “Cho cleared me for my appointment at the department of education and to come here. But I'm sure you already knew that.”

“Come on, then.” Tony could have sworn he saw a hint of a grin on Fury's face, before he turned and led Tony through the corridors. “We've been trying for the last two days to crack this thing, get it to talk, but to no avail. Maybe you're luckier.”

“I don't believe it has anything to do with luck...” That was as snarky a retort as Tony dared to go without blowing his cover.

“Oh is that so?” Fury stopped and looked him dead in the eye. “Then pray tell, what does the amazing Captain America have that SHIELD doesn't?”

For starters a brainwave reader, able to compare the Avenger's data with whatever that thing might omit. Furthermore, Tony's brainpower. “Two days of rest”, he answered instead.

“Good point.” And silently they continued on their way.

Somehow this was weird. Even weirder than the last few days have been already. And it wasn't just that Tony, who had never really been at SHIELD's HQ, was now supposed to be a person regularly going in and out here; Tony had more than enough confidence to pull this off. But Fury... he seemed off. Maybe the Avengers weren't the only affected ones. Or somebody was playing some giant fucked-up trick on Tony. Well, there was an easy way to find out the truth...

“Listen Fury, I feel like I need to apologize for Stark's...”

“Insolence? Impossibility?”, Fury suggested and Tony did not appreciate that. Fine, he didn't really give two fucks about chains of command or authority, but still...

“I was gonna say antics. He told me about you, trying to get him to join the Avengers, but first had to bribe him to get down from that giant decorative hot dog.”

“Yeah, that was something...” Fury just rolled his eyes. Or whoever pretended to be Fury.

Right now it was perfect to be in a body was strong enough to pin Fury against a wall. Tony might have managed to do that in his own body, but Steve was strong enough to actually keep the man in place. “Who are you? And where's Fury?”, he hissed.

“Counterquestion: Who are you and where is Cap?”, he shot back, completely calm, not the slightest waver of confusion or annoyance in his voice.

“What?” Tony was just about to lose himself in the spiral of being caught and about to be locked up, when he realized something. Fury hadn't denied his accusation. “I asked first.”

“Rogers, let go.” Hill came up behind him, shaking her head.

“Not until I know who this is, because it for sure ain't Fury.” Wow, being Cap didn't necessarily come with respect for authority...

“It's not. It's Maria. I'm Fury”, she answered instead. “And she now owes me ten bucks.”

“You were switched, too.” Tony wasn't sure whether it was a question or a statement, but he let go of Maria and took two steps back.

“You guys weren't the only ones that got doused in that glibber”, Maria explained, got a bank note out of her pocket and handed it over to Fury with a groan and an eye roll. “We had a bet, whether you'll see through it or not. And you're Stark, aren't you?”

Tony nodded. “Yeah. What gave me away?”

“The story about the hot dog. I assume it was a test, and I failed it.”

“Yeah”, Tony chuckled. “Had my suspicions, needed them confirmed.”

“Good for you”, Fury interrupted, before waving at them, “after me”, and disappeared into an office two doors over. “Here we can properly talk in private without anybody listening in”, he explained, once Maria had closed the door behind her. Even though he was in a much smaller body, Fury didn't exude any less confidence and he had that authoritative aura; even though Maria's body almost disappeared in the giant chair and desk, Nick still owned the room.

“So, first things first. Who is who?”, he asked.

“Well, I'm in Cap, Cap's in Natasha, Natasha is in Thor, Thor is in Bruce, Bruce is in Clint and Clint's in my body”, Tony summarized, before making himself comfortable on one of the chairs. “Next question: why didn't you say anything on the helicarrier?”

“I could ask you the same thing”, Maria answered, crossing her arms in front of her chest and Tony had to say in all honesty that, like with Nat in Thor's body, the new massive, muscular bulk of a man was not what intimidated Tony, it was very much the woman inside that was scary.

“I asked first”, he grinned back.

“Stark, please. You're in our house”, Fury made clear, not really leaving room for that much of an argument.

“Fine... We very simply didn't want to be SHIELD's lab rats, being probed and tested and shit and – no offence – me, Bruce and Helen are smarter than your guys.” Ok, maybe a little offence... “And you?”

“We didn't tell anybody here for the same reason”, Hill explained. “And we didn't tell you guys, because, well, you definitely do not work well under supervision.”

“What, so you just let us do all the hard work and piggyback off our results?” Tony was almost insulted; though they weren't wrong. But still. “Dance, monkey, dance, huh?”, he scoffed.

“No”, Maria made clear. “When I came over to you guys on the heli, I was intend on telling you, so we could work together and figure something out. And you were so clearly switched too; I mean, Matt Murdock could have seen that. But you didn't say anything, didn't trust me, well Fury. So I didn't say anything either”, she shrugged.

“Oh... Yeah, sorry about that then...”

“Let's leave the past in the past.” Fury leaned over on his desk. “I assume you got something, or you wouldn't have come.”

“Yeah, we think we might...” Tony put his bag on the table, and go out the device they had worked up. “We measured all our brainwaves and Cho and Banner, with Thor's help, found a few interesting things in there that didn't make a lot of sense to them. So, we built this little machine that would be able to, well not measure per se, but receive enough of that thing's brainwaves for us to do a comparison on. If we have that, we can put the goo in the mix and hopefully reverse engineer this psycho-switch.”

“Damn”, Fury nodded after a few moments of pensive silence. “That is impressive. Alright then, I can arrange you having some alone time with it. How long do you suppose you'll need?”

“I take as much as I can get. Ten minutes at least.”

Fury and Hill exchanged a few glances; Tony didn't know them well enough to encode their nonverbal communication. “Fifteen minutes should be doable”, Hill eventually nodded.

“Great! Let's get going, then!”

.

With a loud bang, the heavy door closed behind Tony and brought him face to face with the... thing. Well, almost. There was a glass wall separating them, which probably wasn't the worst idea; Tony really wasn't in the mood for being slimed again.

“I have been waiting for you.”

Uhm, what the fuck? Didn't Fury just say that thing didn't speak?

“And I don't speak, Fury didn't lie to you.”

Fuck, it was in Tony's head... Ugh.

“Don't be so disgusted, you're one of mine now.” Wow, it sounded almost hurt.

Well, if it read Tony's mind... “What's your name?”

“You can call me Tohu.”

“As in wabohu?”

“Exactly!”, it laughed. “Tohuwabohu, I bring confusion and chaos to all that dare to stand in my way.”

“I wouldn't say we stood in your way, you were destroying our planet”, Tony made clear and switched on his device.

“Same difference... Ah, you are trying to measure me, aren't you?”

It really sucked trying to be sneaky with a mind reader... Tony just went ahead about his business. “Where you from?”

“Fine, stick with the small talk, science boy... If you're hoping for me to name a planet, you're wishing in vain. I'm a nomad, travelling the universe, always on the lookout for shelter.”

“Well, there's no shelter for you on this planet.”

Damnit, the sensors didn't pick anything up. Where the fuck did they go wrong? They synced it perfectly with the goo's resonance!

“Your little machine isn't working I see... But don't hesitate to ask away and I will not lie to you.”

Yeah, it didn't expect Tony to buy that, did it?

“Of course you have doubts. But what do you have to lose?”

Damnit, it had a point. Well, here goes nothing... “Fine. What's the deal with the goo?”

“It contains my specific genetically coded psyche, allowing me access to anybody I choose to.”

That made sense and was pretty much what Tony had expected. “Why swap us all, put us in the wrong bodies? We still overpowered and locked you up, so what good did it do you?”

“Tony, Tony... there is such a big brain in that head of yours... I'm sure you can figure it out by yourself.”

Right then. Tony was nothing if not smart and he was definitely not one to back down from a challenge. So, the Avengers were linked genetically to that thing's psyche, with which it like to reek havoc and chaos. The closer Tony got to that thing, the more potent its control became; now that they were only a few metres apart from each other, they could actually communicate telepathically.

Oh shit.

“Ah, it seems you got it.”

“We're your leverage.”

“And the winner is Tony Stark! You do realize what that means, don't you?”

Tony did. In order to break free from its psychic field, they had to let it go.

“Exactly!”, it laughed. “Once I've left this realm, all psychic ties will be broken. And, before you get all sorts of funny ideas about inhibiting my connections or killing me, you wouldn't be the first that tried it. There were civilizations, far more advanced than your little dirty rock, that had to let me go.”

The so far unmoving creature turned and locked eyes with Tony. “Seems like you have a choice to make.”

Fuck. Tony turned to walk away. Just before the door closed, separating him from the creepy voice in his head, he heard it call out one more time: “I'll be waiting for you.”

.

“Why in the everloving fuck wouldn't you tell me that that thing is fucking psychic?”, Tony raged, as he stormed back into Fury's office.

“What do you mean?” Instead of an explanation, Tony was met with confusion.

“I mean fucking psychic!” He fell down on one of the chairs stared straight at Fury. “That thing could read my mind and I heard it. In here...” He gestured at his head. “Would have been really nice to know beforehand.”

“It would have been really nice to know, period!” Maria looked at him with big eyes (well, one big eye). “It never spoke to either of us.”

“Then why did it talk to me?”

“That's something we can figure out later. For now I'm more interested in what it did have to say.”

“Right.” Tony quickly recapped the short conversation he had with Tohu. “So, that's our choice”, he summarized. “Either we stay in this bizarro world until that thing undoubtedly outlives us all, or we let it go.”

“Fuck.”

“That's just as apt a comparison”, Tony scoffed. “So, I assume you two'll join me in my travel back to NY, where we can make a decision.”

“Stark, a teamplayer after all?”, Fury wondered with the hint of a grin.

Tony just decided to ignore the sassy undertone and got up instead. “I would love to just roll my eyes and strut out here, but I would probably get lost. I also assume you have a quinjet at your disposal, which would be so much more comfortable and quicker than Cap's motorbike.”

“That would be a correct assumption”, Hill nodded. “Follow me, and we'll be back in NYC in no time.”

.-.-.-.-.

It was a pitiful sight. Curled in himself with a hot bottle on his stomach, Steve was on the couch and watching some kitschy romcom.

“You really are a walking stereotype”, Nat scoffed and held a chocolate bar out to him.

“I'm so sorry”, he whimpered, “I really am.” He took the bar but put it down next to him on the table. “Thanks. I'll have it later when I don't feel so sick.”

“Sure thing.” She just caught herself before rolling her eyes and instead shot him a smile. “So, how're you doing?”

“How do you think I'm doing?”, he shot back.

“Wow, the hormones are working out for ya, huh?”

“And what would you know about how I'm feeling?”, he hissed and that was it for Nat.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Rogers?” Fuck being nice and supportive. “You do realize this is my body, right? And you do also realize that I have been doing that every month since I was thirteen, including the last few months that we've been living under the same roof. But right, you wouldn't know that because I'm not a whiny crybaby, and neither are Helen, Pepper, Maria or any other woman on this fucking planet!”

Woah. That felt good. The message was clearly received, Steve looked up at her with wide eyes and turned beet red.

“Sorry Nat”, he mumbled and disappeared back under a blanket.

“I know you are. That being said, you're allowed to be in pain and moody and bitchy and shit. Just don't dare taking all that out on me, or I'll go all god of thunder on your ass.”

“I promise!”, he nodded eagerly and shot her a small smile.

“Avengers, assemble in the common room!” JARVIS announced.

“Sounds like Stark is back from DC”, Nat smiled back, “maybe you'll get out of this skin soon, then.” He pulled his feet up, allowing Nat to sit next to him on the couch.

“That would mean that you'd be back in pain and stuff...”

“Yeah, but I'm used to it.”

“Hey, you know what's going on?” Clint waltzed in, in all the Tony Stark fashion they were used to, and dropped down opposite them.

“Tony just got back from DC”, Helen explained, Bruce shuffling inside behind her.

He avoided all eye contact, especially with Nat and cowered in a chair. Fuck. What could she say or do to keep Bruce from doing something stupid? What else could she do? Nat was pretty sure he didn't know that she had tasked JARVIS to keep an extra close eye on the doctor, though he was smart enough to guess that she had done something like that.

“My friends, excuse my tardiness”, Thor apologized and it was so weird to see Bruce, the timid and introverted scientist that open and boisterous.

“You're just in time.” Tony walked in, with Fury and Maria on his heel. Well, this was not going to be what Nat had expected or hoped for.

“No need to talk around it”, Maria said, “we know you're in the wrong body. So are we.” She gestured between her and Fury, who waved at the assembled Avengers.

Nat had no more energy left to be surprised or anything like that and just smiled at them.

The others seemed to feel like she did. “Great, so we're all in the same boat. Did you find anything out?”, Clint asked Tony, not even bothering with giving Fury or Maria a second glance.

“Yeah... You're not gonna like it.”

“Tony, I don't like menstruating, just out with it”, Steve groaned.

“Long story short, we're its hostages. We need to let it go, to sever the psychic connection it has to us.”

“So? Let's do it”, Nat shrugged. “Let it roam the galaxy or whatever.”

“What? And let it terrorize other planets?”, Steve threw in. “We can't let it do that.”

“Yeah, but I assume we're not the first planet it has graced with its presence”, she shrugged.

“We haven't”, Tony agreed with her. “It calls itself Tohuwabohu, a nomad, causing chaos wherever he goes.”

“Wow, it's not conceited at all, is it”, Clint scoffed and begrudgingly made room for Maria on the couch he had been sprawled out on. “But it does sound like our conscience shouldn't have to get in the way and let it go.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Bruce jump a little. Conscience was probably the only reason he hadn't jumped off the tower. It was the same situation, though: Should the Avengers make it easy for themselves and doom another culture to suffer like that or should they just stick it out, get used to the new skin and keep that thing from torturing others? If Bruce were less polite, he would have probably walked out already; it was clearly written all over his face, Clint's face. She couldn't read Bruce Banner all that well yet; he was closed off and they hadn't been living together long enough for Nat to be able to properly read him. Clint was a different story, though. She knew his tells better than Clint knew them himself.

“I do have some readings it's not a lot but we can put our minds together and see what we come up with”, Tony suggested, “and if we still come up empty, we can have this discussion.”

He didn't sound very hopeful; being the one who had actually spoken to Tohuwabohu, he had a better read on the situation than anyone else.

“Are we in agreement?”

Solemn nods went through the round, at which Tony clapped his hands together. “Alrighty then. Before we get to that, though, I need to make fun of Cap.”

“Don't you dare laugh about my period”, Nat made clear and Tony's hands went up defensively.

“I would never”, he asserted. “No, it's more the appointment I had today.”

Steve turned red and put his head in his hands. “So I guess it was...”

“Oh yes, it was”, Tony grinned. Before anybody could urge him to satisfy their curiosity, Tony continued: “Our Captain here has been doing PSAs for high schools, leading to me recording a PSA about profanity, healthy sleeping patterns and drug abuse. Find the irony”, he added deadpan.

“That is gold!”, Clint wheezed.

“Please tell me they are super cheesy”, Nat laughed along.

“Any lactose-intolerant's nightmare.” Tony walked over and patted Steve's shoulder. “Before you try and weasel out of that Sesame Street contract though, you gotta get some girl a promotion.”

“Aha?”

“Mrs Carrigan, whoever that is, was not in today and her PA, Cecily Myers, took care of me.”

“Oh, I know who you mean”, Steve recalled, “she seems very friendly.”

“That she is. And definitely to good to be a PA.”

“Alright, I'll pull some strings once I'm me again.”

“Why don't you just do that?”, Nat asked Tony. He was influential enough, more so than any other Avenger.

“Because I don't know shit about the Department of Education and the people working there”, Tony explained. “Right then, Bruce. Let's get back to it, then.” He gestured for Bruce who silently followed him and once again ignored everybody.

Fuck.

As one after the other filed out of the room, all it took was for her to shoot Clint a look for him to hang back. At least their non-verbal communication worked well enough for him to read Thor's expressions.

“What's up?”

“I think you might need to talk to Bruce”, she explained once they had enough privacy.

“Alright... Some issues with my body or what?”

“You could say that...” She took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. “He's suicidal, but up until a few days ago he was in an unkillable body. He no longer is...”

“What?” Clint's eyes went wide as his jaw dropped. “Why the hell would he want to kill himself? He's one of the most renowned scientists!”

“And also the Hulk”, Nat continued. “I've never seen your face so filled with self-hatred as I have the last few days. I already told JARVIS to keep an eye on him, but I don't think that's enough. I also don't think we should tell everybody, because then he'll jump off the tower for good.”

“Fuck.” Clint looked up at her, somewhere between worry and fear. “Yeah, I'll get right on that.”

“Just don't make it worse, alright?”

“Doesn't seem to be possible.”

.-.-.-.-.

“Hey buddy”, Clint called out and grinned widely at Bruce. “How you doing?”

Bruce didn't even bother looking up at him. “You talked to Nat, huh?”

“Just a bit”, he admitted.

“Right then.” Bruce was not in the mood for this. He reached up and switched off the hearing aids, before diving back into the accumulated brainwave data.

From the corner of his eye he saw Clint furiously signing at him, to get Bruce's attention Damnit. If there was one thing he had learned about Clint was that he was persistent. Maybe even more so, now that he was inside Tony, if that was even possible. Fine. The quicker Bruce would get through this, the sooner he could go back to his work and wallowing in his feelings.

“What?”, he signed back.

“Please don't kill my body.”

“Nice to know where your priorities are at.” Bruce just rolled his eyes and, as Clint motioned to sign his apologies, he just waved him off. “Why though? Tony's body is younger, can hear and is filthy rich.”

Pleadingly, Clint locked eyes with Bruce. “But Clint has a wife and kids.”

Oh. That was news to Bruce... He wasn't sure what to say, but didn't have to.

“I know I never told anybody. Only Nat and Fury know. Nick helped me get them off the grid, where I'd like them to stay. I... I couldn't even call my son, tell him the mission went well. Or my daughter and listen to her toddler-babble...”

Clint's eyes teared up and he turned his head, somehow not wanting Bruce to see that he was emotional about missing his family. Which he deserved to do, of course.

But that shit just wasn't fair.

“I'm happy for you, I really am. But this whole game is rigged, isn't it? Thor goes back, he's the prince of Asgard. Tony goes back, he's the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. What do I get? A life of hiding away, of fear with no sign of it all ending.”

He banged his hand on the table, apparently quite loud, judging from Clint jumping.

“Just leave me be”, he whispered and turned his back on his friend.

.-.-.-.-.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! They couldn't do anything. Nothing, absolutely nothing to stop Tohuwabohu from fucking up their life any more. To keep from letting his frustrations out from Bruce and Helen, Tony went up to the penthouse. There were less tools he could throw around, but he had almost finished this bottle of whiskey and that was good enough.

And one big swig later, Tony could properly chuck it across the room and contently watch as it shattered into hundreds of tiny shards in a wonderful loud bang.

“You feel better now?” Pepper stood in the door, shooting him a small smile.

“Hey Pep”, he smiled back and, for a short glorious moment, he forgot everything about his current situation.

“I take it, things don't look too rosy...”

“They do not. If we want to get back, we need to let the Alien go again.”

“Oh.” She sat down next to Tony and looked over. “What do you want to do?”

“Currently I want to either kiss you or at least lie in your arms”, he grinned.

“I'd like that, too”. Pepper smiled back and leaned over. “I'll just keep my eyes closed”, she giggled, before pressing her lips against Tony's, well, Steve's.

And Tony just exploded in joy and love and his face beamed probably brighter than his arc reactor heart. “Oh, that was... I really missed that.”

“Yeah...” She leaned back and grinned up at him. “I do prefer your own lips, though.”

“I should hope so... But...”

“But I might have to get used to this body”, she finished his train of thought.

“I... I just don't know what to do.”

“Come here.” Pepper pulled his head into her lap and started to stroke his hair; the most calming and reassuring touch Tony had ever felt. “I can't tell you what to do. And I don't want to either. Just remember, I fell in love with you, not with your body.”

“I do look so much better than Cap though... I mean, I can appreciate his body, and that is one nice ass...”

When the hand stopped moving, Tony glanced through one eye to find her having an eyebrow raised. “Not sure I got this right: do you want to keep this behind or, once you got your own back, want to be with this behind instead?”

“I mean, maybe as a rebound, if I ever fuck this up”, he shrugged with a grin. “I don't plan on doing that, though.”

“You just assume that you'd get Cap in case we break up?”, Pepper shot back. “Maybe I like this body, too?”

“If you want to give it a test ride...”, he smirked, but the laugh bubbled through. “Maybe not though, this is a young, enhanced body, don't know if my body – in case of getting back - can keep up with that... Although I'm sure the real Steve'd be really grateful and a giver...”

“Tony”, Pepper interrupted him.

Probably a good idea, otherwise he would have probably gone into some very uncomfortable areas of Steve's sex life (or lack thereof). “Sorry. Back on topic... I don't know what's gonna happen... We're pretty divided. Nat and Clint campaign for letting that thing go, Fury, Hill and Steve want to keep working on a different solution, which is pretty useless if you ask me, Thor is just happy to be here, Bruce has been scary quiet on the whole thing and I just don't know anymore what's wrong or right.”

“What does Helen say?”

“She agrees that there's nothing we can do. The alien told me that there was nothing we could do and that fucker was right. We can't kill it; it's skin is tougher than Cap's shield. We can't inhibit it's psychic connection; we can't even properly compute its brainwaves! That goo is about as useful in our research as that glibber from Nickelodeon... It'd be easier to physically explain Thor's power than to get an upper hand on that thing!”

“Then that's what you need to make Steve, Maria and Nick understand.”

“And then?” Tony had no idea how all this could end.

“One thing at a time.” She went back to tousling his hair and Tony just leaned into the touch that somehow made him feel like everything's gonna be alright.

“Ok”, he nodded.

“Just like that you agree?”, she chuckled.

“You're the smart one in this relationship”, he shrugged and grinned up at her.

“Yeah, that's true”, she agreed and leaned down one more time and put a soft kiss on his forehead.

.

“So, listen up”, Tony announced, after all the Avengers had assembled in the common room. “We can't beat this thing. There is no scientific way to circumvent Tohu's psychic influence on us. There is also no way to kill it. Yes, me, Helen and Bruce are sure about that. We tried everything and there is nothing to argue about, we can't. We have two options: either we let it go or we just stay where we are; in the wrong body.”

“Are you sure...”

“Yes, Steve”, Tony interrupted him and just managed to keep at least mostly calm. “I would bet Pepper's life on that. There's nothing, absolutely nothing. You got that now?”

Steve nodded and silently went back to hugging his hot water bottle.

“Right then”, Fury took over. “Tony, what's your take?”

“I'm ready to be convinced either way”, he answered honestly.

“Fine. Who's got a proper opinion?”

“I do”, Nat made clear. “We do it. We let it go. Evolution has its reasons that we might not understand, but it survives this way.”

“Besides”, Clint continued, “the longer we leave it locked up a SHIELD, the more chances are there for it to spread throughout the institution.”

“And, if we let it go, there is no harm done to our world”, Nat finished their statement.

“But to others”, Steve countered.

“There are plenty of uninhabited planets for Tohuwabohu to settle on”, Thor explained. “Chance that he might find one of those is greater than to find a peopled world.”

“Is this really a chance we can take?”

“Yes”, Nat made very clear, and Tony could have sworn he heard thunder going off in the distance as she all but banged her fist on the table and stared Steve down. “Let's just let go of this fucker before bad things happen we can never undo.”

“You know something we don't?” All eyes were on Natasha, who didn't seem to give two shits about the attention on her outburst.

“As a rule, yes I do”, she shot back.

“Anything we need to know?”, Tony tried again, but was met with silence. He didn't have the strength to try and – speaking from experience – fail at getting information out of her, so he just turned back to Fury. “Alright, I'm convinced, let it go.”

“I guess I could learn to live with it, too”, Steve mumbled, looking anything but happy about it, though.

“Bruce, what about you?”

Even more so than usually, Bruce was quiet and withdrawn. Something must have happened that Tony didn't know about, probably something to do with Natasha pushing to release Tohu to the wide unknown.

“I don't want to go back into my body”, he made clear and looking over at Clint, Tony saw his own face dropping. “But”, the doc continued, “I can't keep Clint away from his. So fine.”

“Fine? You're with us?”, Natasha inquired, looking almost afraid of his answer.

“What's going on?”, Tony demanded to know and looked from Bruce to Clint to Natasha.

“Nothing”, Bruce clearly lied, before looking back at Natasha. “Yes.”

“Good”, she smiled, looking more than relieved.

“So, we're in agreement. Right, then me and Hill need to get back to DC and figure out how to send that thing back into outer space.”

.-.-.-.-.

And there they came, crawling back to him, having failed in their mission, just as Tohu told them they would. And now Fury and Hill stood in his cage, begging to know how they had to let him go.

“I want everybody here”, he eventually communicated. By the way both of them jumped, it was clear to see that neither had expected him to talk to them. It was a little fair, he hadn't been keen on chatting with them so far; he never planned on attaching to them, it happened admittedly by accident. Besides, ever since he had connected to the Avengers, as they called themselves, he had recognized the intelligence of the ones called Stark and Banner plus the Asgardian prince and figured that they'd be the only ones worth talking to. But now that they were ready to let him go, he wanted them all here.

“Uhm, you mean everybody you switched?”

“Yes”, he nodded. “I want to see all of my children, before I leave them forever.”

“We're not your children”, Maria made clear.

“Is this this teenage rebellion I have heard of?”

Both just rolled their eyes and strutted out of the room, to call the rest of the group, undoubtedly.

There had been many that tried to stand in his way, to stop him. Many planets had their so-called heroes and self-proclaimed Defenders; none of which had ever managed to stand in his way.

It was almost adorable, the hubris in which they assumed themselves to be stronger or smarter than Tohuwabohu, as if he weren't older than most their civilizations. They still kept on trying, no matter what he told them, like little children that never listened and instead threw a temper tantrum, until they realized they couldn't do shit and came crawling back.

It didn't take too long, for his door to open again and all his children to strut into his cage.

“There you are”, he greeted them, “I have been looking forward to this moment all week.”

“Yeah, me too.” The woman in the Asgardian's body looked ready to strangle him on the spot, very unladylike. But, if her thoughts were anything to go by, ladylike wasn't an adjective to describe her. So many dark thoughts, memories and emotions. Especially about one of her teammates...

“Banner”, he called out, “your friend seems deeply worried about you. And it seems, for good reasons...” If Natasha had dark thoughts, then Bruce's were pitch black.

“Stay out of my head”, Banner answered but, unlike the rest of the group, he had shied back, keeping at the back and fidgeting nervously with his fingers.

And immediately all the thoughts turned to the doctor with the self-hatred. Somewhere between worry and confusion and maybe, just maybe, it would be best for them to have it all out in the open. And if it didn't help them, Tohu had more than enough drama and confusion to feast his eyes on.

“Bruce, your feelings are valid and understandable. I'm just glad I could offer you the possibility to confront them and maybe even a chance to get out.”

“Get out of what?”

The Avengers were no longer quiet and turned to their doctor.

“Don't listen to him”, Bruce shot back, “it's his shtick to create confusion.”

“Oh, you are a horrible liar”, Tohu chuckled. “But those weren't the only feelings to be searched, were they, Tony?”

Stark rolled his eyes and turned back to him. “What?”

“You had plenty of chances to do some soul-searching yourself, did you? Being the man your father idolized and ignored you in favour of...”

“That's enough”, Rogers called. “You are aware of our intentions so there is no need for further aggravation and instead tell us how you'll be able to leave the atmosphere.”

“My dear... There is no need to take your frustrations out on me. Just because you're still mourning the loss of the love of your life... At least Peggy is still alive...”

“Wait, Aunt Peggy isn't the love of your life?” Tony turned to Steve with wide eyes and the wonderfulness of the rising tension, plus the deep blush on Steve's face, send shivers all through Tohu's body. Now, who was next?

“Clint.” He turned to the archer next. “How was life in the limelights, after hiding everything and everyone away?”

“You fucker leave my wife and kids out of this”, Clint thought. At least he was smart enough not to voice it out loud, rather commendable, Tohu had to give him that.

“My apologies. At least one of you seems to have his anger under control, isn't that right, Thor, Son of Odin?”

“Do not speak of things you do not know about.”

“Oh, but I have been on Asgard once before. I believe it was many, many a century before you were born. It was not much to look at, but if the pictures in your mind are anything to go by, your planet and civilization has blossomed beautifully. Maybe I should visit it once more...”

“DON'T EVEN THINK TO GO NEAR MY PEOPLE!” As expected, the god of thunder lost it, and a beautifully green shine crossed his skin.

“Thor, buddy, trust me, please.” Bruce took his stance in front of Thor and put his hands on the god's shoulders. “You do trust me, don't you?”

“I shall not let this creature terrorize my kin”, he growled, a little calmer but still wonderfully close to hulking out.

“And he won't”, Bruce promised him. “But Hulk can't help right now, we need Thor and his knowledge of space to make sure that Asgard will be alright.”

“You're right.” With a sigh, Thor let his head drop. “I'm terribly sorry, my dear friends that my temper keeps on endangering us.”

“Like I said before”, Bruce smiled, “it's not your fault.”

“Aw, isn't this adorable! Can we expect a happy announcement soon? Oh please, invite me to your wedding!”

“Is this supposed to be insulting?” Thor and Bruce both turned to Tohu. “For Bruce is a formidable person, of incredible strength, knowledge and anybody should be lucky to have him by their side.”

“But Bruce doesn't believe that about himself, does he?”

“Alright, I've had it.”

The way the Avengers looked at Bruce with wide eyes, nobody seemed to expect the doctor's outburst. Banner didn't seem to care or notice their shock, as he walked all the way up to the glass separating them.

“So, you want to out all our secrets, hoping we'll jump at each other's throats? You didn't need to switch us for that, we've been pretty successful at that ourselves before you came and screwed everything up. I mean, look at us for heaven's sake. There's an obnoxious spoilt brat of a genius, a moralistic veteran from World War 2, the guy from Norse mythology, the scariest and toughest woman you'll ever meet, the world's best archer and I mean, I don't think I have to say anything about myself. And now you just want to out our secrets? I mean, come on”, he groaned with an exaggerated eyeroll. “They all know I'm suicidal, I've told them that before. We all know that Stark has daddy issues and that Clint, who makes his living as a spy, keeps secrets from us. And everybody who knows a bit about Captain America and has half a brain, realizes that the relationship he had with Sgt Barnes was straight-washed by historians. So, what the fuck do you think you could do to us that we don't already do to ourselves?”

Huh. Not the drama Tohu had expected to break out, apparently he had not estimated the Avengers relationships correctly. It was drama nonetheless, and enough for Tohu. “Well said, Banner”, he praised him. “I see that there is not much more dysfunctionality to be brought upon you.”

“Well, whoop-de-fucking-doo”, Bruce deadpanned. “So, how do we get rid of you?”

“Let me out of here and I'll fly off. You do realize that I have wings, right?”

Apparently they did not. But that was none of Tohu's problems, as soon as he will be under a clear sky he can go find another place to reek havoc.

“Go ahead, discuss how you'll smuggle me out of here without SHIELD noticing. I'm not going anywhere.”

As the Avengers filed out, there weren't too many exciting thoughts, mostly a bunch of very colourful and creative swearwords directed at Tohu. All he could hope was that they were just as creative when it came to escape plans and he would be out of this world in no time.

.-.-.-.-.

“Well, that went about as smooth as figure skating in the desert...”, Clint remarked as he made himself comfortable in Fury's office.

“What a wonderful picture”, Natasha deadpanned and leaned against the wall behind the archer. “But your lyrical abilities and some interpersonal shit aside, let's deal with that fucker over there for now. I don't assume that SHIELD would let it go if we told them to.”

“That is not going to happen”, Fury agreed, “which means we need to stage a break out.”

“Which isn't too hard”, Nat shrugged. “Stage a distraction, cap the security cams, open the doors and let the thing fly off.”

“Right, simple as that”, Fury scoffed. “May I remind you that your current body isn't all that equipped to sneaking around and being inconspicuous?”

“So? Steve has snuck into Hydra bases before, he can do that again.”

“You mean in a body that he can barely stand up straight in?”

“Then let Clint do it. He can sneak, can work Tony's body and cut the feed.”

“And what sort of distraction did you have in mind?” Ugh, Fury's pessimism was exhausting.

She just nodded at Thor

“Would you be alright with that?” Bruce turned to Thor, looking so much softer than only a few minutes ago while ranting at Tohuwabohu.

“I assume the plan is for me to hulk out, so the agents of SHIELD shall leave their posts.”

“That's the idea, yeah.”

“I am aware that it is our best shot, I am afraid of hurting you, though.”

“I trust you, remember?”, Bruce smiled.

“We all do”, Tony continued.

“Then I shall trust your trust.” Thor nodded and locked eyes with each of the assembled Avengers.

And that's what they did. Natasha and Bruce accompanied Thor to the far end of SHIELD HQ, while Maria took Clint to the security room and Tony, Steve and Fury headed to Tohu's cage to let him out.

“Well, Thor, now's your chance” Nat prompted him.

“I am not sure how to switch it on or off though.”

“Well you better”, Bruce shrugged, “otherwise Tohu might make his next stop on Asgard. Your parents might be safe, I'm not sure if they would be able to get to Loki in time, what with him being in the dungeons...”

“This creature shall not lay a hand on my brother!” Taking Bruce's bait, Thor started to turn green.

“What if he stayed on earth though and ran into Jane and Professor Selvig?”

Nat doubted it needed this last comment, but in any way it helped to push Thor over the edge and with a loud growl Bruce's clothes ripped and the damn rage monster was back.

Fuck.

“CODE GREEN!”, Bruce cried out and thankfully, some nearby soldiers pressed the panic button or something, Nat did not really pay it any attention, she had to focus on Hulk, on where he was and on how to best avoid being close to dying again...

In a matter of seconds, they were surrounded by agents, having their guns pointed at Thor, who growled loudly and punched at everything that came to him.

“DON'T CROWD HIM”, Nat called out.

“That only makes it worse”, Bruce continued.

Hopefully they were quick with letting that thing go, the longer Hulk raged around, the harder it'd be to turn him back.

It were two endlessly long seeming minutes, until a loud crashing sound even drowned out Hulk's growling. All eyes went over to where Tohu was once captive and before Nat knew what happened, everything went dark as the Alien took to the skies and blocked out the sun.

The tumult that broke out when Thor hulked out was nothing compared to what went  down now. All the agents seemed to have forgotten Hulk as they hurried around, trying to shoot the asshole down.

“Bruce, now”, she hissed over and the doc walked up to Hulk. Like the other day he had his hands held out as he carefully took step after step.

“Hey buddy”, he smiled, “you see, it's over.” He gestured towards Tohu, flying in circles above them, circling higher and higher. “Soon enough everything will be alright again, we'll get back to normal. Our plan worked.”

Thor just stared after the disappearing Alien, before looking down on Bruce.

“It's alright, buddy”, he assured him. “The sun's getting low.”

The big green hand slowly came down and Hulk put his hand in Bruce's. “Sun's getting real low, buddy.”

.

“Well, that was a success”, Fury commented, when about half an hour later everybody sat in his office again. Still in the wrong bodies, but Tohu probably wasn't far enough away yet. Or he tricked them all and they were doomed to remain in the wrong skin and had let their only chance for normalcy – at least their enhanced, super-human and alien normalcy – go. Nobody dared to voice this fear out loud, but Nat was sure they all thought it.

“Thor, you did perfectly”, Steve praised the god who was wrapped up in a blanket and more asleep than awake on one of the chairs.

“Thank you, dear friend”, he smiled back. “I hope it was not for nothing.”

“At least nobody will know it was us who let it go”, Clint shrugged, so apparently everything went well in the surveillance area.

“Well, me and Fury got a lot to deal with, so you six better head out before all hell breaks loose and all we can do is hope for the best.”

.-.-.-.-.

When Tony woke up it was still dark out. Groggily he glanced through an half-open eye to the moon shining in through the window. He had to fight to fully open his eyes and he sat up to look around the common room where he must have fallen asleep, as did the other Avengers.

Ugh, every of his joints creaked and cracked as he sat up. Wait, why would that be, if he was in Steve's 20-something year old enhanced body?

It could mean only one thing... He looked down and almost couldn't believe his eyes: blue light from the arc-reactor was lighting up his chest and yes, he was wearing an ACDC shirt, and no longer these horribly tight shirts Steve ran around in.

“JARVIS, who am I?” Last test.

“You are Anthony Edward Stark, born on...”

“Thanks J, that'll be all. YO, UP AND AT 'EM!”, he yelled at the Avengers around him.

“What is it now? Wait, my voice... OMIGOD, IT WORKED!”, Clint cried out and in joy jumped up on the couch, where Steve was patting his chest to make sure that he didn't have boobs anymore.

It was, weirdly enough, Thor, who motioned for them to quiet down. “Friends, do not disturb our doctor, he needs his rest.” He put the blanket, that had fallen off the couch, back over Bruce's torso.

“Right then.” Nat motioned for them to leave Bruce be and the Avengers assembled again in the kitchen. “Thor, don't take this personally, but fuck, I'm so glad to be myself again.”

“No offence taken”, Thor smiled back at her. “thank you for taking care of my body these last few days.”

“Yeah, Steve I'd like to say the same thing to you, but...”

Steve blushed and was about to apologize his ass off, before Nat continued. “I'm kidding. You did well, considering what you were up against.”

“Thanks... And Tony, I guess you made more than enough... Tony?” As they looked around, they realized them being one genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist short. “Where did he go?”

“Three guesses”, Nat shot back, pretty sure he had run off to Pepper, the second he saw he was himself again.

.

“PEPPER!” Only when Tony ran into the penthouse and was greeted by a very tired, still half-asleep looking Pepper, he bothered to check the time. 3.47am. Whoops. “Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, but...”

“Tony, is it you?”

“Yeah”, he beamed, “I'm me again!”

“Finally!”, she sighed and threw herself at him and pressed their lips together. If Tony didn't get to do anything else besides kissing Pepper for the rest of his life, he would be a-ok with that.

“I love you so, so, so much”, he sighed and melted into her touch.

“And I love you”, she smiled against his lips.

“So, I guess it wasn't really a perfect victory, but good enough to celebrate it, don't you think?”

“How subtle.” Pepper broke away from the kiss, giggling. “I'd love to celebrate with you”, she grinned and pulled him towards the bedroom. “The bed has been way to empty without you in it.”

.-.-.-.-.

“Hey Bruce, you busy?” Nat put her head through the lab door. Ever since they had woken up to their normal skins three days ago, she had kept her distance and Bruce had been waiting for her to show up.

“What's up?” He looked up from his microscope.

“I'm kidnapping you”, she smiled.

“Very funny.”

“But true. Come on.” She gestured for him to follow her.

“Fine...” Damnit. If Bruce didn't follow her right now, she would probably drag him to where ever by his ankles. “You gonna tell me where you're taking me?”, he asked as he hurried to catch up to her.

“We're gonna drive a bit”, was the only thing she told him direction wise and tossed a helmet at him. Great, per motorbike.

So, holding on to Nat's torso, they rode out of New York. Bruce wasn't gonna admit it, but it was actually really nice and a lot of fun. And Nat was a good driver. A little fast, but not dangerously so and Bruce just enjoyed the view as they drove past less and less houses and more and more greenery.

Until they reached a farmhouse, in front of which Nat stopped and motioned for Bruce to get off.

Before he could ask where they were and what they were doing here, the door opened and a small boy came running towards them. “AUNTIE NAT!”

“Cooper!”, she beamed and, once he jumped into her arms, whirled the boy through the air. “How're you doing?”

“So good! Daddy and I worked on the treehouse and Mummy just made dinner and you're just in time to eat.”

“Perfect, I'm starving”, Nat grinned, before she turned to Bruce, who so far had only stared at her with wide eyes. She was grinning, almost giggly. “That's Bruce. He's a friend of me and Daddy's.”

“Hi Bruce”, the kid smiled at him. “Are you also staying for dinner?”

“He is, yes”, Nat answered for Bruce, who was still a little overwhelmed at the sight of Natasha Romanoff of all people being cute and cuddly.

“Great.” The boy jumped out of Nat's arm and took each of the grown ups by their hands and pulled them after him towards the farmhouse, where they were greeted by a woman, around Natasha's age, with a little girl in her arm.

“NASHA!”, the girl giggled and stretched her little arms out towards her.

“Hey, Lila”, she cooed and took the girl in her arm. “Laura, it's so good to see you!”

“You too”, the woman smiled back and hugged Nat and the little girl. “And I assume you're Bruce”, she greeted him and held her hand out. “I'm Laura. That's Cooper and that's Lila.”

“It's so nice to meet you all”, he smiled, slightly overwhelmed at this little family and why exactly he was here.

“And to meet you, too. I guess you already know my husband”, she grinned and behind her, Clint appeared.

“Tasha, Bruce, good to see you.”

Of fucking course. This was Clint's family, the people Bruce was asked to keep Clint's body safe for.

“Auntie Nat said they stay for dinner.”

“Of course, we didn't drive all the way for nothing.”

.

“So, you looked after my Clint's body the last few days?”, Laura asked, as Clint and Nat put the kids to bed.

“You could say that”, he shrugged. “I feel like I should apologize, though, as I take it your existence is supposed to be a secret.”

“I believe a smart scientist like you can keep it”, she winked and handed him a cup of tea.

“Thanks.” Together they headed to the living room and made themselves comfortable. From a few rooms over, Bruce could hear giggling, as Nat and Clint told some dramatic bed time story. “I've never seen either of them like that”, he remarked.

“Yeah”, Laura nodded, and took a sip of tea. “Nat barely shows anybody a side that's not completely controlled and stoic. Same with Clint. I know he's not a serious guy, but Avenger's Clint is quite the burdened guy. Until he and Auntie Nat come home.”

“If I'm being honest, I never pictured him to be the family type”, Bruce admitted. “I mean, with his time at the circus, then SHIELD...”

“Yeah, he doesn't really fit the type... But he is an incredible dad and Nat is an amazing Auntie.”

“Well, this last week has certainly be informative”, Bruce eventually chuckled.

“That I believe... Listening to Thor and Tony Stark telling me they love me was a little weird to say the least.”

Bruce couldn't help but laugh. “That I believe. I think Tony and Pepper went through pretty much the same thing...”

“Yes, Clint mentioned something about kissing Pepper...”

“I think the word 'clusterfuck' perfectly summarized these last few days.”

“Well, if anybody gets through that, it's Earth Mightiest Heroes, isn't it?”, she grinned.

“We definitely create enough chaos being the six of us without needing some mind-reading Alien to do that for us.”

“But when you need each other you're there and get yourselves out of the messes, no matter whether created by an Alien or your own doing.”

“I guess...” From the kids' room, he heard Nat and Clint laughing and couldn't help the smile. “No idea, when or how it happened, but I guess we need each other...”

“Then I'm happy to lend you Clint every now and again”, she grinned and Bruce just smiled back.

“And I promise all of us will do everything in our power to always bring him back to you.”

Laura took Bruce's hands in hers and gently squeezed them. She didn't say anything, but didn't have to; Bruce clearly received all her gratefulness.

Sure, once the excitement of this body switch was over and Bruce was back in his lab, hiding behind science and his microscope, the fucked up feeling of his Hulk-sized depression would soon enough catch up with him again. But at least for right now he could appreciate being kept from doing something stupid and well, with Natasha, Clint, Thor, Tony and Steve caring about him like that, maybe the future wouldn't be too bad.

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

No Adulting Allowed_Part 1

For once it’s not a Killmonger fanfic!! W00t!!

I love him too, but we need more T’Challa and M’Baku stories, if you ask me. To that end, this is a multi-chapter T’ChallaX WifeReader fanfic! 

You can find the rest of the parts on my Black Panther Masterlist. 

Tagged: @chaneajoyyy

Part 1

“My love, I must ask…....is this really necessary?”

You gave an exaggerated sigh as you and T’Challa walked leisurely down the long hallway that early afternoon with two Dora trailing behind you. Both of you had just finished breakfast a little while ago.

It was T’Challa rare day off yet despite that he still woke up at his customary 5am in the morning. That wouldn't have been a problem but since it was your day off as well, he ended up waking you in the process. You had to remind him that it was his day off and he was to be in bed until at least 9am, preferably sleeping as you had planned to do.

Needless to say, while you went back to sleep, T’Challa laid awake. This might not have been a problem except for the fact that you swore that his thinking was loud enough to keep end up waking you back up. To combat this, you suggested that he read a book if he was going to be up, tossing him your book from your nightstand. Not wanting to disturb you, he apt to just lay there and try to doze and rest.

However then, he quickly became fidgety, used to being up and running at this time. So, in your desperation, you gave him your mp3 player and played something that was in the realm of a soothing lullaby (on repeat..). 

This worked as T’Challa may have gotten one or two naps between 5 and 9 actually stretching it so that he didn’t even wake back up until 10:30 when you were already up. 

Once T’Challa was up the two of you had breakfast. The poor King thought that he would have his usual day off so it surprised him when after breakfast he found himself walking down the hallway with your arm wrapped around his. He wasn’t quite sure where you were going although he knew that the royal garden was close by.

You didn’t answer him until you both arrived at the front of a door. He glanced at the closed door before looking at you, who released his arm and folded your own.

Looking up at him you asked, “Must you ask, again, my love? I didn’t not explain it adequately the first time?”

T’Challa rolled his eyes, “I understand that’s it’s my day off. What I don’t understand is why I cannot sit quietly in our room?”

That is what he usually did on his day off. Sitting quietly in the sitting room, attached to your bedroom. He didn’t do much but sit. Sometimes he tried to read and other times he tried to watch TV.

“T’Challa, I don’t know how much clearer this can be. You don’t sit quietly on your day off.”

T’Challa made a sound to refute you but you continued hurriedly, “Your brain still gets left in the throne room and you spend part of the day contemplating your duty. And once you’ve began to think about that then you spend the rest of the day talking about it. How is that sitting quietly? It’s very clear after several days off that you don’t unplug from work. You bring it home with you which I can understand but not on your day off. That defeats the purpose of a day off.”

T’Challa sighed. He didn't want to admit that you weren’t wrong, “Y/N, I can’t turn off completely. I’ve tried but it doesn’t work. I do worry about some things and I can’t help but to think about them.”

Your gentle touch on his arm made him look at you, “I know that…..” you murmured softly, “....Which is why I want to help you. What good is it to be physically off but not mentally? That still is not winding down as you need to. I just want to try this and see if it helps you. That’s all.”

T’Challa reluctantly nodded. At this point, he probably needed the help. He didn't want to admit that it got on his own nerves at time that he couldn’t seem to unplug. After awhile, he got used to it and accepted that it came with being a King.

“Good.” He could feel your fingers slowly inch down his arm, “Now, trust your lovely wife and give me this….” you reached down and tugged off his kimoyo beads in one fluid motion, so quick that he didn’t have time to react.

“Hold on!” T’Challa protested his eyes never leaving them as you handed them to a Dora.

“You are disconnected for the day.” you said batting his hand away that automatically reached out for the beads.

T’Challa looked back at you and crossed his arms, “We don’t have to be that disconnected”, he gripped.

“Look if anything pops off, these lovely ladies will alert us, isn’t that right?” you asked looking at the two of them.

“Of course, my Queen.” one Dora replied.

“We will be extra vigilant today, my King. Do not trouble yourself.” the other added.  

T’Challa looked between the two of them before looking back at you, “Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

“My King, what call are you expecting?” you asked, “Your mother thanked me for this idea and left you in my care. Shuri begged me to take you and Okoye didn’t say in so many words but she approved as well. The council knows you are gone for the day and wouldn’t contact you anyway. And anything short of a war happening in the next 30 seconds where everyone would know about anyway thus I shall repeat, what call are you expecting? And I’m here so I don’t need to use them to contact you from across the room.”

You lifted both wrists to punctuated the fact that you weren’t wearing yours either.

T’Challa cocked his head once and looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “It seems that you’ve planned all this to the nth degree.”

“Naturally, do you expect anything less?”

T’Challa still looked troubled though.

“My King….” a Dora spoke making T’Challa look at her, “.....on behalf of your kingdom, I implore you to get some rest today.”

The other Dora nodded, “Yes, please get some rest.” she paused and glanced at her partner before looking T’Challa in the eyes, “Okoye has told us to tell you that if you don’t…...you will have to deal with her.”

You snickered.

You knew exactly what Okoye would do. She would get T’Challa up early on his day off, earlier than normal. She would have him up at 4am and they would spar. She would wear him down so much that by noon at the latest he’d be out like a light for the rest of the day and night. Actually, Okoye already expressed to you that she would put her idea in action next should this fail. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that. But if you husband needed to be knocked out to get some rest, you weren’t above giving the order.

Apparently, T’Challa must have been able to read between the lines because he held up his hands in surrender, “No, no. I’m sure whatever my wife has planned will be sufficient.”

He had the highest respect for the general and he knew that if Okoye handled it he would be missing 24 hours of his life. That was not the kind of day off he would want.

You locked your hands behind your back and batted your eyelashes up at him, “Then you will listen to the words of your sweet wife?”

T’Challa mouth twitched as he replied gravely, “I will listen.”

You clapped your hands once and chirped, “Good! Close your eyes!”

T’Challa sighed once before obeying. He felt you take his hand and heard the door open. At your insistence, he kept them close allowing you to guide him. He turned his head a little when he heard the door shut behind him.

You glance around the room once as you grinned. You let go of his hand and cried, “Okay...open!!”

T’Challa obeyed and looked around.  He blinked. What he saw was a chaotic mess in his opinion. He realized now what room they were in as it was facing a section of the royal garden and had a larger window and door that you could go out of.  

However that sight wasn’t what he was trying to figure out. The large room was overrun by….paper and other things he was trying to make sense of. There were a bunch of big tables in a semi-circle with art supplies littering each one.

“This is not your studio. Did you move?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the tables.

“No, I didn’t move but I created art stations for you to try. We have paper and glue and scissors. You have markers and paint. You name it and it’s probably in here.”

“I see.” Sweeping his eyes around, he saw in a corner of the room were easels with blank canvases ready to go. He spotted clay set up and a table with beads which he assumed was to make jewelry. He still wasn’t sure why there was a table full of yarn.

You were an artist, he knew but he had no idea what was going on. Once he took it in the room, he finally turned and looked at you, his eyes full of questions, hands lock behind his back.

“Today, you and me…” you first pointed to yourself and then to him, “....are going to make stuff. I have literally everything you could need or want in this room.” you finished with a sweeping gesture of the room.

He could see your eyes light up and the excitement in them.  T’Challa was truly lost and but he didn’t want to hurt you feelings so he said as gently as he could, “My love, I am not an artist.”

You shrugged, “It’s not about being an artist. I don’t care if you paint or draw stick figures. Art is proven to help the brain wind down, take you away. I know that we won’t use everything in here but I didn’t know what you would like. So if you start something and you don’t like it move onto the next station. I am positive that somewhere in here is something that will help you relax.”

You struck a pose, pointing at the room, freezing in place for a moment. T’Challa gave a small laugh at your antics, although he was still dubious as his gaze sweep the room again, “You make it sound so simple.”

He felt you wrap your arms around his waist and he raised his arm to rest on your shoulders as you pleaded softly, “I just want you try. Please? If not for me, then for your kingdom. You’ve been stressed to the gills and even when we just sit around on your day off you are still back there. I just wanted to see if it helps you. If not, we will think of something else.”

T’Challa wraps his other arm around you and give you a brief hug before reaching under your chin and tilting it, “Forgive me for making you worry.” he murmured, “I will try for you. You will have to teach me though. I don’t know what to do...” He looked around the room. It seemed overwhelming to him.  

You smiled up at him before reaching up placing one hand on his cheek to turn his face for you to kiss briefly, “I’m not trying to make an artist out of you. That is not the point. For now...walk around see what catches your fancy…….it’s about play. Just do what you want to do or what you think you should. There is not right or wrong way.”

T’Challa kissed you back before straightening. He looked around, “Eh...where do I start?”

You gave a gentle smile before turning him to the side of the room, “Just start there and work your way around the room.”  You said pointing around in a circle.

T’Challa nodded and watched you sketch a soldier salute before bouncing off.  Finally he returned to staring at a mound of clay.  He stared for so long that it took him a moment before he realized that soft music was playing and looked up. Apparently you had turned some rather pleasant music, similar to the one you had him listen to earlier that morning before going to your workstation in the middle of the room facing the garden, your back to him.

T’Challa chuckled as he shook his head rather absently before focusing back on the mound of clay. He stepped towards it and cocked his head. After a moment, he gingerly reached out and poked it as if expecting the clay to fall over. He loved pottery and the works that people did having brought several pieces himself but he never had a desire to learn to do it himself.  

But thinking of you he did break off a piece of clay and formed it onto a ball in his hand. He played with it a moment or two but found he wasn’t really interested. So he placed it on the table and wiped his hands on the towel before moving on.

He was on his way to the next table when he realized that there were unopened cans of paint on the floor as well as plastic tarp. He kneeled down and looked at the paint. There were three cans of paint, a red, blue and yellow.

Standing up he stared down at the wall paint on the floor before looking up at the wall. He didn’t seriously think that you’d want him to paint on the wall did you?

T’Challa turned around needing clarification, “My love?” he called.

You looked up, swirling in your chair to face him, “You rang?”

T’Challa’s mouth twitched but he wasn’t going to get distracted. He wordlessly pointed at the wall and then the paint before going back to the wall, with an raise eyebrow.

You shrugged, “If throwing paint at a wall, helps you, then go for it. Queen Mother approves!”

T’Challa crinkled his nose, “That seems wasteful, no matter how I look at it.”

“Then move on….” you said swerving in your chair to face your work again.

The next table had a purple camera on it. With a chuckle he picked it up. It was obvious that it was old tech. 

Cute and functional but old. 

He knew that you used it sometimes and remembered how you operated it. Once he got it straight he looked around for something to photograph.

Naturally his eyes fell on you. 

You were coloring, your lips poked out in concentration, as you swayed lightly to the music, head bobbing at random times. Though occasionally you would pause to do a little dance or jiggle to the music that was playing.

With a smirk he raised the camera and took a photo. It came out the end and he pulled it out and looked at it. You were so adorable. He glanced at you. You didn’t even notice that he had taken a photo. He moved around a little to get a better angle before snapping again. It wasn’t until he was a little closer that you finally noticed and looked up.  

“T’Challa...what are you doing?” you asked with a raise eyebrow.

He laughed, “Can’t you tell? I’m taking photos….”

You gave him a stank face and before you could reply, T’Challa raised the camera snapped a shot of you. You shrieked and waved your arms, “Hey, I didn’t say for you to take photos of me. I’m not even properly dressed for this!”

Both of you were wearing matching comfortable clothes. 

 T’Challa shrugged, “So what? You are beautiful when you are in your natural habitat.” He gestured to the room.

He had seen similar set-up in your studio, though it didn’t have as much going on as this room did today. But he had frequently walked in to see that you were concentrating on doing something. In fact, he found it blissful to be in your studio watching you work. Most of the time he would bring some work that didn't require him to be on site in his own office. Rare times did he find himself reading a book for pleasure while you worked. The two of you had spent much time that way and he treasured those moments.

He continued with a wolfish grin, “Besides, what else in this room is there that is worth being immortalized on film?”

It took you a moment but when you did you began to sputter and flounder. T’Challa chuckled and took a photo of that as well, pulling it out and glancing at it. He found you were good for candid moments. You always had the best facial expressions.

You whined your husband’s name and folded your arms with a pout. T’Challa lifted the camera and took a photo of that as well. His eyes never moved from yours as he pulled out the photo and pocketed it with the rest. You watched, nothing moving but your eyes tracking his move as he walked over to you.

He placed the camera on the table as one hand came to rest back of your chair. His grinned as he leaned forward making you lean back, side-eyeing him.

“You are suppose to be helping me unwind mentally…….if I find you a worthy subject…..will you deny me? Surely you as a Queen you have a duty to fulfill, eh?”

You twitched. Did he serious resort to word games? You gazed at him a long moment before you finally gave a cheery response, “We aren’t royalty today, remember? King and Queen are on vacation and cannot be found, so sorry. Hang up and try again.”

In a flash, the hand from the back of your chair had come up to cup the back of your head. His lips came to hover over yours as he angled your head and you felt his hot breath, “And your husband? Would you deny your husband?”

Slowly he reached closed the space and right when he was about to kiss you, his lips smushed together making him blink as he realized that it was your palm.

He saw your laughing eyes as he pulled away smacking his lips together in annoyance.

“We ain’t gonna do that today.” you laughed.

T’Challa straightened, his shoulders sagging as he pouted, “What I can’t get a kiss today?”

“Don’t be melodramatic. I kissed you a bunch of times today but I know you. That was just a prelude.”

A slow grin formed on T’Challa’s face as he wagged his eyebrows, “Well, what if the epilogue is what I need to unwind?”

“You still trying to play?” You raised an eyebrow, “So your idea to unwind mentally is the tire yourself out physically? We could have just skipped to sparring sessions with Okoye if that was the case!”

T’Challa shook his head furiously, “No-no. Besides, it’s not the tiring out physically…..” Here he reached out and cupped your chin tilting it, “More...connecting…..I would say and it happens to be physically…..”

Your breath hitched as his voice dipped deeper and deeper with each word, “.....emotionally, psychology, spiritually…..” His thumb came up to swipe across your lips.

You were in a bit of a daze and T’Challa thought to seize this opportunity, going to lean down but you quickly swerved away from him and slid out the chair before turning it to point at him, your hands gripping the back of it.

You shook your head back and forth furiously, crouching a bit so that the chair would attempt to hide you, “I will not be apart of this conspiracy!!” you cried, “No. No and no. We will not have it. I’m more concerned about your brain right now not your libido. 

T’Challa shrugged as he picked up the camera, “Alright, fine. If that is what you wish.”

You hissed at him and he took a photo of that with a grin before walking off.

“Ya!” you snapped making him chuckle as he pulled out the photo.

“So cute, my love!” he waved the photo around, “My wife has a myriad of expressions. How can I not want to capture them? And I would love to capture other things as well if you wish to be my subject.”

You pouted as you settled in your chair, “Boy, are you still trying to play!”

“Rain check then?” T’Challa pressed.

He quite liked the idea he was developing in his head. Involving this camera and your bedroom. And that dress that was only for his eyes only….

You sighed resigned, “If I say yes, will you go away?”

T’Challa nodded like a little boy.  

“Yes, now…...go away...” You turned back to your work as it punctuated your words, effectively ending the conversation.    

T’Challa grinned, “I will hold you to that then.”

Camera in hand, T’Challa moved to the next table in line, which for the most part had piles of magazines. He saw a book and opened it realizing it was a blank sketchbook. Scissors and glue was also a part of this display. He also noticed that there was tape and paper with designs on them as well nice sizeable pieces of cardstock paper.  

“I’m not sure what is requires of this set-up….” he spoke out-loud.

You looked up at the table he was at this time, “Oh, scrapbooking, collaging. You take photos and pictures and arrange them in a book or a piece of paper. That’s the bare basics of it really. You can be as simple or complex as you like.”

“Hm.” T’Challa grunted to himself before pulling a magazine and opening it.

After a few minutes of silence you looked up to check on your husband to find that he has sat himself at the collage table and currently was playing with collaging. You noticed he was also playing with the photos that he had taken of you. You smiled happy to see such a sight before returning to your copic markers.

[redrosella]

Passion

Chapter 2 of 2  Part 1 Here 

Summary: An old photo in Patton’s room brings up new questions for Virgil. Who was Passion? Why had he never heard of him? Where is he now?

…Can Sides die?

Author’s Note: Here’s the second chapter! The whole thing is under the cut because the first line is a spoiler for the first part. Read part one above if you haven’t seen it! This part has grieving as a main topic, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please skip it. However, it’s all done healthily.

Tags: @whatevertheheckiwantthanks @nbpidgeon @musicwithalex @liz-a-bell @romanasanders @wisepuma23 @fandomsandanythingelse @pipedreamprayer

“You… You were both Passion?” Virgil stuttered out, trying to take in the story.

It was almost impossible to comprehend. Nothing the anxious side had ever heard pointed to the idea that sides could just split apart and become two different people. It wasn’t something he had ever thought of because it sounded just so ridiculous.

“Yes. I was Thomas’ more academic passions, Roman was Thomas’ creative passions. Although of course we were just one back then, there was no separation in our mind. We were just Passion,” Logan explained, like it was all logical and Virgil’s entire worldview wasn’t just shifted five degrees to the left.

“I... “ Virgil ran a hand through his hair. “What changed?”

Roman sighed. “Passion… He was always very conflicted, even before things started to pile up. For a side that emcompasses such a broad range from academic to creative, to everything in between, it can be tough to keep it together,” Roman explained, his usual flair more restrained. “The straw that broke the camel’s back, so to say, was just Thomas trying to figure out whether he wanted to spend more time on school or theatre. We were young, and weren’t really thinking about trying to find an inbetween, so there was a constant flipping back and forth that was too much to handle.”

“It’s a good thing it happened then and not any other time. If Passion was still there when Thomas was deciding between chemical engineering and his vine career, the consequences would have been drastic. Roman and I were already arguing like crazy when that happened; if we were still one side, Thomas’ mental state would have suffered greatly,” Logan said.

Alright. That was starting to make a bit more sense. It was still crazy to think sides could split like a fusion from Steven Universe, but even he could tell that Roman and Logan staying as one side would not be a good idea. They were practically made to be arguing with each other.

While putting this together, Virgil’s eyes darted towards Patton. The fatherly side seemed oddly subdued, his eyes averted and not really paying attention to the situation. Virgil could only imagine what that must have felt like, being there as his boyfriend split apart before his eyes-

And that was another thing. Boyfriend. Patton had been Passion’s partner, even though they were young and weren’t quite sure what that entailed yet. They were still together, and losing a friend like that must have been crushing.

He did still have Roman and Logan, though...

“So are you still dating?” Virgil tentatively asked.

Patton’s head shot up, eyes wide.

“Oh uh...” Logan looked similarly caught off guard. “No. No we aren’t.”

“I was with Pasha, not them, Virgil,” Patton spoke up. “It’s… not the same. I was in love with Passion, not Creativity or Logic.” Virgil could almost see the beginnings of tears in Patton’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light or not, but it didn’t really matter. It was clear that Patton was hurting, and there wasn’t much he could do. Virgil was still reeling, and this situation wasn’t really his place. He had just learned about it today, no words he could say would have any meaning.

Both Logan and Roman looked down as well, unsure what exactly to say.

It became abundantly clear to Virgil that this wasn’t something the three of them talked about often- if ever. The anxious side sympathized with that. Conversations about something like this would be nerve wracking and embarrassing and a huge mess, and if it happened to Virgil, he would want to be anywhere but there. But that’s because Virgil was anxiety, and that was kind of his M.O.. These three were supposed to be the more put together sides that didn’t just ignore their problems and hope they’d go away.

But they did, and here Virgil was, opening back up that wound.

Well, maybe that wasn’t the most apt analogy. It was more like a broken bone that had healed incorrectly and everyone was saying was healed, and Virgil had just re-broken it.

Patton stood up abruptly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Sorry kiddos, I… have to go.” He left without another word, walking up the stairs to his room. No one made any attempt to stop him, too caught up in their own worlds and unable to figure out what to do.

Virgil looked back at the other two sides, who both looked taken aback and remorseful.

“I’m sorry for bringing this up.” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. “And sorry for worrying you. I just didn’t know…”

“It’s okay, Virgil,” Logan started. “Curiosity is perfectly natural. You were just formulating a hypothesis with the data you were given, and it happened to lead to this. It’s not your fault. In all actuality, it’s our own fault for never telling you before.”

“Did you… not want to tell me?” Virgil asked. The idea that they didn’t trust him with that hurt, but...

“No, no,” Roman quickly said. “It’s just a… sensitive topic, as you can see. We never really thought to bring it up,” he clarified.

The anxious side nodded. “Alright. I’ll… talk to you guys later.” He was ready to slink back into his room and not think about this embarrassing misunderstanding of a situation for a long time, and readjust his entire concept of how sides worked in peace.

Maybe take a nice long nap and try not to think about death for a long, long time. Maybe try to figure out what he could possibly say to the side that was so much like a father to him, without it feeling worthless.

----

The next day, things were tense in the mindscape. Logan took to spending time in his own room away from the cacophony of emotions plaguing everyone, but of course he was once again dragged back out and into the fray.

“Roman?” Logan poked his head into the side’s room. He had gotten an odd text message from him asking to join him in his room- confusing because he could have just walked down and asked Logan to join him like usual- but he still obliged, because as sides communication was of the utmost importance.

Immediately he was taken aback as he came face to face with what wasn’t Roman’s room, but what looked like a miniature ballroom. Logan knew that Roman could change his room to look however he wanted it to, but he was not expecting… this sight to greet him.

In the middle of the room, Roman stood, looking incredibly extra. He was wearing what looked like a tuxedo and a dress combo, completely impractical and yet completely Roman.

“Logan.” The creative side smirked. “Would you care for a dance?”

Logan stayed put outside the door, blinking like it would change what was in front of him. “Are you trying to court me?” He raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m not sure this is the right way to go about it.”

Roman rolled his eyes with an exaggerated huff. “No! Ugh, just come here Logan.” He held out his hand. “Just dance with me. I want to test something.”

Logan finally walked into the room, taking an extra look around. “And this is how you chose to do it? Wouldn’t a normal room and normal clothes have sufficed?”

Roman scoffed. “I needed to set the mood! There’s a certain finesse to dance that must be achieved. Now dance with me, no more questions asked! There’s time for questions later.” He shook his hand out again, and Logan carefully took it.

“Alright. But-” There was no time for him to finished as the wind was taken out of him by a quick spin by Roman, who apparently couldn’t wait another second to dance.

They were swept into a quick dance that almost felt like a combination between ballroom dancing and tango, Roman taking the lead and deciding that, yeah, picking up Logan was a completely reasonable idea.

Logan was no novice at dancing, however. He could keep up with Princey’s footsteps quite accurately, owing the knowledge to Thomas’ own proclivities for theatrics and learning how to step in time. He was not prepared to being swept off his feet and dipped to the ground, however, and when Roman attempted to execute the last move, his center of gravity was set off and they ended up falling into a pile on the floor together.

“Ow,” Logan said blandly, rubbing his head and adjusting his skewed glasses. Thankfully they didn’t seem broken despite Roman elbowing them sideways in an effort to gain ahold of him before toppling down. “Well, that was a massive failure. I’m not sure what you were expecting there.”

Roman huffed. “Well maybe if you tried to actually dip with me rather than staying stiff as a board, we would have gotten somewhere. Do you have two left feet or something?”

“What are you trying to achieve, Roman?” Logan asked, deciding to ignore his provocative question.

The creative side looked away, his arms crossed and a blush dusting his cheeks. “I was just trying to test a theory…” He mumbled, trailing off.

“What kind of a theory involves dancing ourselves into a pile? And why could you have not asked Virgil or Patton?”

Roman mumbled something under his breath that Logan couldn’t catch.

“What?” Logan asked.

“I was… trying to fuse.”

----------------------

It was a stupid idea. A really, really, stupid idea. Roman knew it from the beginning. But a small part of his mind still thought that maybe, just maybe, because they weren’t real people, fusing like the gems in Steven Universe could work.

He knew it wouldn’t, and he knew Logan would have told him exactly that if he brought it up to him, but he just had to try it… He couldn’t keep going on without at least trying something.

“You’re… trying to bring back Passion?” Logan asked, looking caught completely off guard for once.

“No, I… Yes, but… I…” Roman stuttered out, running a hand through his hair haphazardly. “I don’t know. I just thought maybe if Passion was back even for a little bit, Patton would be happy. I don’t like seeing him so down.”

Logan sighed. “If Passion came back, Patton wouldn’t be happy, Roman. He’d have lost two of his close friends.”

“I know that! But… I don’t know- do you ever think that we would be better? If we were still Passion? If Thomas would be better?”

His voice cracked at the end. Ever since this whole problem was brought back up again, all he could think about was whether splitting up was the best thing. He thought it was, but these little doubts wouldn’t let go.

“Roman…” Logan sighed sadly. “Passion was never meant to stay forever. A passion is… not always stable. Usually they dry up after a time. Concert pianists tire of playing the same songs day and in and day out. Mathematicians get bored of doing the same calculations. Their passion is lessened. It can be rekindled, but there is no guarantee. Passion may seem like the most important thing in the world, but without substance it will never stay. It needs a strong foundation. WE are that foundation. Together we are passion. But we don’t have to be one to be it.

“In all honesty, Passion shouldn’t have even existed in the first place. He was too specific, and too broad at the same time. There are such a wide variety of passions one can take up, trying to fit them all into one side would just be pointless. But because passions have multiple facets to them, different ideas that fuel them, just passion alone was too specific. Roman, Passion was always going to split. It was inevitable.”

Roman hummed half heartedly in acknowledgement. He remembered the feeling of not being whole all too well. Passion always felt one second away from breaking in those later years. It was impossible to forget. But still...

“Did you enjoy it?” Roman asked. “Because I did. At least, I think I did. You probably did too, since we were the same. I don’t know, this probably doesn’t make sense.”

“The concept of one mind becoming two is incredibly complex, I doubt it makes sense to most,” Logan comforted him. “Even I have trouble sometimes with remembering that Passion wasn’t just me. And yes, I did enjoy it. Why wouldn’t I have?”

“I dunno. I guess I’m just feeling a little… less than confident right now.” Roman traced a line on the ground absentmindedly, not willing to look up at the other side.

“We did pretty much ignore it since it happened. This is the first real talk we’ve had about it in years. I thought we were just going to ignore it for the rest of our life.” Logan shrugged.

“Do you still love Patton?” Roman whispered under his breath, like it was forbidden to say. “I do, in a way. I still have memories of loving him, and I know that love didn’t just go away, even if it did for Patton since…” Roman trailed off.

“Patton loved Passion, but we’re not Passion,” Logan finished. “I don’t think I love him anymore- I see him as a close friend, and I would never want to risk losing that- but I know I did in the past, just like Pasha did. His feelings didn’t just instantly disappear. It’s tough to say, really.”

The hurtful truth was that even if Roman wanted something with Patton again, he’d always feel like he was trying to measure up to Pasha. He’d never be able to feel like his own side, rather just a byproduct of Passion. Not that he wanted to pursue anything- despite being the personification of romance, he couldn’t see Patton as much else than a dad anymore, but the feelings were still always there like an unforgotten memory. A memory that didn’t feel like his.

A lot of Pasha’s memories felt like that. Like slices of a life he lived, but also didn’t. It was weird to think about, and that’s why he often just pushed the memories away, deciding not to dwell on them. If he thought too much about it, he’d become like… this. Laying on a ballroom floor because of a stupid idea he thought might fix things but ended up failing. Thinking back on Passion would always bring out the worst- maybe that was indicative of the kind of side Passion was at the end, maybe it was just how Roman was as a side, too proactive and nitpicky, but it never led to anything good.

He really wished Virgil had never brought this up again. He hadn’t thought about the whole situation in a while, too busy with his creative endeavours, and he was doing just fine. He didn’t have to think about these complicated questions that inevitably sprung up whenever it was brought up. But he also didn’t blame Virgil. It was a big part of their lives, and Virgil was a part of their group. He deserved to know about the past- it wasn’t like it was a big secret or anything, there was nothing wrong with him knowing.

He just wished it didn’t end up hurting Patton so badly.

Because really, that’s what it all came down to. Roman could deal with some existential questions and memories that didn’t feel like memories any day. But seeing Patton so hurt because of something they did in the past, even if they didn’t have control of it, it was upsetting. There was such a large part of him- and Logan as well- that cared so much about Patton, Something that the disappearance of Passion couldn’t ever take away. And it felt horrible knowing there wasn’t anything he could do, other than a few experiments that were never going to work.

Logan seemed to pick up on his train of thought and sighed, readjusting his glasses.

“Would you like to try one more time, Roman?” He held out his hand.

“Really?” Roman propped himself up on an elbow, looking up to the logical side for the first time since they fell.

“Really. I think it’s completely illogical and will never work, but there’s no harm in trying.”

Roman gave a soft smile, grabbing his hand and letting him pull him up.

They repeated the same steps once again, this time even more in sync as both knew exactly where the other was going to go, stepping in time together and not missing a beat. Logan even made an effort to fall into the swings and dips more, not freezing up as he had done before. The finally dip was executed perfectly as Roman held his forehead close to Logan’s, and they both waited with baited breath…

But nothing happened.

“I figured…” Roman breathed out.

Logan laughed. “Yeah, it was a stupid idea. But you wouldn’t be Roman if you didn’t have stupid ideas now and again.”

Roman let out a fake indignant scoff. “How dare? I’ll have you know that all my ideas are perfectly reasonable.”

Yeah, there was a reason Passion broke up. But damn if Logan and Roman didn’t still have a natural sync with each other that allowed them to flow so seamlessly together, and yet work so differently.

-----

Patton held the picture of Pasha close, memorising the details of his face. It had been so long since he had last seen him, he’d almost forgotten the way his eyes shown with knowledge, the way he seemed to snuggle into his scarf at every moment, and the way he blushed when caught off guard.

The picture didn’t bring back the feelings that it used to. He used to feel a burst of love and happiness whenever he saw Pasha, enamored with him in every way. Now, when he was older and Pasha was still just a ten year old kid in his mind, he didn’t feel the same way, but man did it still hurt. He still felt the loss he did all those years ago, that grieving that he wondered if he was even allowed to feel because technically Pasha was still there- he was just two people now.

He knew he was allowed to grieve now, learning to embrace all of his feelings and not just the happy ones, but there were still years and years where he was never sure if mourning his loss was appropriate. Now, though, all he really wanted to do was just feel. Even the bad feelings. They’d tell him that Pasha was still there in his memory, and his spirit was still here in the mindscape, just in two seperate places.

He loved Roman and Logan. They were his close friends, his family, and even if he missed Pasha, he could never regret having them. They were what Pasha was always meant to be, and their existence meant that Pasha wasn’t hurting anymore.

There was a knock on the door that snapped Patton out of his musings, a head popping into his room without preamble.

“Hey Pat,” Virgil said, walking into the room with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Hey Virge.” Patton wiped away a few quick tears from his eyes.

“Are you doing okay?”

The fatherly side nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking. Y’know, I hadn’t thought about Pasha in a while until I found the picture. I could never forget him, but things have just been so busy I barely had any time.” He laughed. “I know you guys worry about me, but really, I’m fine. Just embracing my emotions, and remembering the good times. It’s been… nice.”

“But isn’t it also sad?” Virgil asked.

“Of course it is. But sadness just make the times when you’re happy all the sweeter. If I wasn’t sad about Pasha being gone, then I wouldn’t be happy about all the memories I shared with him. Besides, he’s not completely gone, just two seperate people. I have Logan and Roman- and you! You’re all my family.”

Virgil gave a soft smile, interrupted by Logan knocking on the door, obviously him by the precise way he knocked and waited for a reply rather than barging in like the other two sides.

“Come in, Lo!” Patton called.

The door opened, letting Logan and Roman spill into the room.

“Hello, Daddy-o! We are here to spend some quality time! We’ve been severely lacking lately, and that needs to be rectified immediately!” Roman said boisterously.

“We noticed you’ve been spending some time in your room alone, and worried you were feeling lonely,” Logan added. “I know you are simply remembering Passion, but perhaps if we all talked about it together, the healing process might move along faster, and will be less arduous.”

It really was a healing process. It should have been done years ago, really, but with being sides who are constantly busy, and the uncomfortableness of the situation that no one wanted to address, it never really happened. Better late than never, however.

“Well, sure, that sounds nice.” Patton flashed a smile. “Come join us on the bed, kiddos.” He patted the spot next to him, grabbing a pillow to hug. The two sides both took up residence on the large bed, Roman sprawling out and Logan sitting criss crossed taking up as little space as he could. “So what’d you want to talk about kiddos?”

“Sharing memories about a loved one is a vital part of the healing process, so I believe doing so might do us all some good,” Logan explained.

Roman jolted up. “Plus, Virgil never got to know Passion! Just think of all the funny stories we never got to tell him! Like remember that one time we tried to make brownies for Patton’s birthday and ended up mixing up the baking soda and baking powder?”

“That might be why Thomas never got into baking,” Logan quipped.

Patton let out a large belly laugh. He had completely forgotten the day that happened. It was just one of the complete and utter mishaps that occured in the mindscape back when they were kids, so common and yet so out of left field.

The rest of the night was filled with stories of days long forgotten, and memories that Patton could never forget. Roman and Logan seemed to be in perfect sync, both recalling the same memories with accuracy, and yet each having their own take on them. It reminded Patton that Pasha’s spirit was never truly gone.

Yeah, it hurt to know he couldn’t cuddle him or give him a chaste kiss in the night, but it didn’t matter when he had a family that cared so much about him right here.

And besides, remembering Pasha just reminded him to cherish the family he had.

[sundaynightnovels]

15 Questions Tag Game

i’ve been tagged this time by @kidsarentallwrite and @elizabethsyson ! sorry, it’s been a hectic week so i’m only just getting to this! i find it especially apt that the latter has done the 15 questions game for a character called ‘Death’ (who i already adore), considering what my wip is about, yknow. somewhat. yea. && yes!! new characters from ashleigh!! i’ve previously done this for Zhen & Lu and Ren, Jia & Jun (i like to do these interviews in sets if you can’t tell), so... hmm. i’m going to do this for Shou and Teng -- the two sweethearts ! (as in, they both are adorable -- not that they are together. that would be havoc) the questions that i’ve gotten from my two tags are different, but i’ll use @kidsarentallwrite ‘s set of questions instead (because i can’t really answer questions about species / magical forms). also, be prepared -- these two can talk a lot.  1. What is your full name? Shou: Shou. Teng: Teng Shou: i don’t suppose we have to add anything else to our names, do we?  Teng: you should know better than i do! Shou: that’s not fair! i’m a newcomer here too! in fact, there hasn’t even been an orientation -- i wouldn’t even have had a place to live if not for zhen’s generosity! hm. this is a serious matter indeed, i should bring it up to someone. do you know who i can contact with regards to this complaint? Teng: how would i know??? i didn’t get an orientation either! i never thought of it as an issue, but it is, isn’t it???? how did zhen get her kid??? isn’t there a rule on how many men can live together in one apartment?? where does ren live??? can jia just move into someone else’s home just like this? there are so many loopholes! how do we live like this? we need to start up an organisation asap -- [the rest of irrelevant conversation redacted] 2. What does your name mean? Shou: ah! that is the most pertinent question! names should mean something, shouldn’t they? when ren had first returned me my name, i thought it meant ‘hand’ -- and that was particularly interesting! in palmistry, all these lines on a person’s hand means something individually, and a hand in itself is -- Teng: shou, they’re doing that thing again. that thing with their fingers that means they want us to hurry up Shou: -- what? do they not want to understand the deeper meaning behind the lines that they are naturally born with on their hands? do they not realise how a person’s entire life path is marked, since their birth, right in the palms of their own hands? is it not utterly fascinating? Teng: i don’t think so... Shou: then why are they asking questions when they do not want to listen to the answers? 3. What are your nicknames/other names? Shou: i believe that Ren refers to you -- and the rest of your army -- as the ‘Noisies’. Teng: what?? that’s a terrible name! Shou: i agree. but unfortunately, there is certain merit to it. we can use it to refer to all of you as a whole -- which happens quite frequently, considering the three of you never seem apart -- and also, the name seems rather apt. Teng: are you saying that we’re noisy? we’re not! i mean... i’m not! i mean, well... jun... uh.... okay! Yu(m) isn’t! you can’t deny that! Shou: ... 4. What’s your gender? Shou: i believe i am male. Teng: yea. is there anything else to be? uh wait. okay, i think jun warned me about this, said something about not opening up a can of worms... but i don’t get it! is there anything else? Shou: i don’t know. the world has changed vastly compared to when i was alive, so it is not my place to assume anything. also, zhen had also warned me about this, and i think it would be prudent to listen to their advice.  Teng: yea, i mean, i don’t know of anything else either. the world has changed a lot (nods sagely) Shou: yes, indeed (nods sagely as well) 5. What’s your sexuality? Teng: Jun mentioned this too. Shou: Zhen as well. Teng: (nods sagely) Shou: (nods sagely) 6. Where are you from? Teng: well, i just came straight from my apartment...  Shou: oh, is this what this meant? thank you for the clarification, i had no idea! i wanted to answer that i was born from my mother -- of course, that is such a redundant answer that i wasn’t sure if it was the answer at all! in that case, yes, i just came from the kitchen. Teng: ... the kitchen? you mean, the kitchen in your building? as in, the one zhen cooks in? as in, you came from lunch? after eating zhen’s cooking? is that it? Shou: ... i must excuse myself for a moment 7. How old are you? Teng: how rude! I am young! Young! Don’t listen to any of my boys, i’m not that much older than them! Shou: how old are you, then? Teng: uhhhhh.. well. fine. yes, i’m older than them! but not by that much! they make it seem as though i’m past my prime, but i’m really not! Shou: which is? Teng: uhhhh. i’m 27, i think. about there. 27 - 28. you? Shou: i don’t remember the age at which i died. if you are talking about post-death, however... no, i don’t know either. 8. Any special talents? Shou: he does! he does!! Teng: huh, me??? Shou: yes! you do! don’t be shy now, we all know what you are capable of! Teng: uhhh. i’m pretty good at cleaning up -- even though jun makes it seem like i’m dirty and disgusting. is that it? Shou: no! i’m talking about your imitation of a bear! you are amazing at that! Teng: ????? since when have i imitated a bear?? Shou: all the time! when we met for the first time, you were snarling and growling like a beast! it was amazing! how do you do that with your vocal cords? i have tried many times, but alas it is not a skill meant for me.  Teng: ohhhhhh, you mean that, huh? uhh, ahh, it’s nothing, really Shou: please do not sell yourself short. it is an amazing skill worthy to be proud of!  9. Do you have kids? Teng: if you are talking about the boys, then well, yea, i guess. though i wouldn’t really call them my kids.  Shou: you mean, your gang members? Teng: what gang?? why do people keep saying that i’m in a gang??? 10. What’s your aesthetic? Shou: i don’t understand. if you are talking about what i am wearing, right now i am wearing one of jun’s many robes. it is very comfortable, though unlike the previous garment that i had donned, it has less of a breeze.  Teng: i’m just wearing normal clothes i guess. don’t know how you want me to describe it further. 

11. Who’s your best friend? Shou: best friend? as in, a friend above all other friends? that’s terrible! how can you ask me to choose such a thing? Teng: yea! that’s terrible! i can’t make such a choice! Shou: so you don’t have an answer to this as well? Teng: yea! also... well... i don’t know if i... i mean, well, the boys are just the boys, right? outside of them, i don’t even know if i have any friends... so uhh, yea. yea. can’t really answer this anyway. Shou: am i not your friend? all this time i have considered you my comrade-in-arms, leader of the Noisies, an odd man and a great friend -- yet could it have all been my imagination? have we not fought in battle, have we not shared a meal, have we not been tormented by the same slow tale and have we not slept together under the same roof? has this all been one-sided on my part? have we never been friends all this while? Teng: well... you fought against me in ‘battle’... but yes! we have! we have shared a wonderful meal, and we have been tormented by quan’s horrid story, and well, i guess you have slept in jun’s room before so yes! we have slept together under the same roof! i’m sorry, i was too caught up in moping in my own sorrows that i’ve somehow neglected the friends by my side! my answer is you! you are my best friend, shou! you are! i’m sorry for having forgotten you all this while! Shou: thank you! thank you for realising your folly! yes, we are friends ! Teng: ... Shou: ... Teng: ... are you not going to say that i’m your best friend as well? Shou: ... it just seems like an important decision. i don’t want to make a choice so quickly. 12. Would you ever get a piercing / tattoo? Shou: absolutely not! how can you suggest such a thing? our physical bodies are a gift from our mothers! they should not be desecrated just like that!  Teng: aren’t those painful? uh, i mean, not that i’m afraid of the pain, it’s just... you know! uh... uh... right! i don’t know what to put on it! where would i pierce, what kind of design would i put on my body -- those are all important questions! Shou: if i could, i would paint an image of the flaming sun on my chest. Teng: i thought you said that our bodies are a gift from our mothers? that we shouldn’t destroy them just like that?? Shou: well, since i am dead, i think it’s right to assume that my mother is as well. and we have long lost our physical vessels, so there is no real damage. furthermore, i have to remember how scary the sun is. (shakes head) it is not simply the glowing ball of warmth you think it is. 13. When are you happiest? Shou: that is an impossible question to answer. how can there be a ‘happiest’ when there is nothing to compare it to? there will always be a ‘happiest’ moment in your future! when you think you are happy in the present -- even, perhaps, the most happy that you can be -- you never know what is coming your way next. there will always be another ‘happiest’ moment. as the saying goes, there is always a higher mountain. you cannot limit yourself your current happiness. you will always be happier! you must trust in that! if there are constants in life, that would be it! Teng: (wipes away a single tear) Shou... Shou: that being said, my happiest moment would be when we are all together. Teng: (wipes away tears from both eyes) Shou! Shou: ah, and perhaps when i’m eating a sugared gourd. that as well. 14. What’s your biggest secret? Shou: what secret??? i have no secrets! i am not lying! Teng: uhhh. i don’t have any i think. shou, you are acting kinda weird though. Shou: i’m not! i’m not!! 15. What’s the first thing you notice about people? Shou: it used to be their names, but now i am not certain. i haven’t been around enough people -- though yes, i am around a lot more people now than i was in the past. it is rather incredible. Teng: uhhh. i notice that they are people? i don’t get it. am i supposed to say something specific? but i notice them as a whole! if someone’s walking towards me, then they’re walking towards me. i don’t know what you want me to say! tagging @insearchof-solace @elliswriting @vhum @thedreamsofthesky @coffehousecreations @snowdropwrites @focusdumbass @chrysanthos-writes @bookenders @inexorableblob @incandescent-creativity @radley-writes @minnowf @thel3tterm @pen-for-sword

[psycho-slytherin]

The Tenor

A series of coincidences leads you to talk to the best singer in your choir.

Pairing: Singer!Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Genre: pure innocent fluff

Next ––>

|mlist|

“As soon as we get free time, we have to go take pictures, okay? I’ll actually die if I don’t have a photo against that specific wall. And once we’re out of the chaperones’ sights we can order wine! I love Europe, I swear, I’m literally never leaving...”

You laugh. “Whatever you say, Rena.”

“We need a group of at least three, right? I’m thinking you, me, and Taeyeon— oh, actually Hyuna’s joining us because she broke up with her boyfriend.”

“Didn’t she do that last week?”

“Yeah, but they got back together— you know her.” Rena looks like she’s about to say something else, but your guide claps his hands.

“Alright everyone, welcome to Venice!”

Your choir cheers, and you join in. You’ve been looking forward to this trip all year, and now you’re really in Italy with your choir, touring and singing in some of the most amazing churches in the world. “Anyone that wants to try a gondola, line up in groups of five,” the guide says. “Afterwards there’s free time and an optional glassblowing exhibit.” 

Glassblowing? Now that sounds interesting. You turn to tell Rena that much but she’s already looking around for a fifth group member.

“Jennie’s in a group already...” she whines, “Sunmi and Jeongyeon too, ugh!”

You’re sighing bemusedly when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see Taehyung, a baritone that you’ve always been friendly with but never close to.

“Hey, y/n, I was wondering if you have a group for the gondola ride?”

You smile widely. “Yeah, and we could use another person. Want to join us?”

Taehyung grins as you inform Rena of your new fifth member. Always the friendly ones, your friends welcome Tae with enthusiasm. The five of you pile into the gondola to which your guide has directed you and you end up wedged between Rena and Hyuna, with Taehyung across from you.

“Watch this,” Hyuna whispers, her plump lips brushing your ear before she speaks loud enough for the whole group to hear: “Hey, Tae!”

You have to give into your laughter: at Hyuna’s words, both Taehyung and Taeyeon turn around with expectant expressions. 

“Ahh, that was great,” Hyuna giggles, sitting back in satisfaction.

You worry that Taehyung will be annoyed by your friends’ teasing dynamic, but you see a sparkle of amusement in his eyes— he’s having as much fun as the rest of the group. The five of you banter easily, enjoying the ambience and beauty of Venice.

“Did you hear that?” Taeyeon cocks her head suddenly and points upriver, past the bored gondolier behind you. Listening intently, you make out the sweet melodies and harmonizations of a group of advanced vocalists— an exclusive subsection within the general choir.

“Are they in the boat behind us?” Rena asks, peering at the canal.

“They sound amazing,” Taeyeon whispers in awe, and you have to agree.

“How did they find their pitch?” You wonder aloud. The song they’re doing is complex and completely a capella— hence, it being an advanced song.

“I bet Jungkook is on that gondola,” Taehyung says, and the four of you nod in understanding: Jeon Jungkook is the choir’s golden boy and the only member of the choir with perfect pitch.

“No wonder they sound so good, if Jungkook’s there,” Hyuna sniffs. You want to think of a clever response, but you’re beyond mesmerized by the notes floating across the water. Like most of the songs in your set, the advanced vocalists are singing in another language and since it’s impossible to focus on the lyrics you settle for picking out individual voices: that clear, ringing voice is your fellow soprano Seulgi, and the throaty alto tone of Sunmi is easily recognizable. 

You have no clue who’s singing base or baritone because as soon as you focus on the impossibly flawless tenor voice, any other thoughts go out the window. You don’t know or care what the words are— the guy could be singing through a grocery list and you’d still be captivated... you snap out of your daze when Rena begins clapping. Is the song over already?

“Encore!” Taehyung whoops, and you hear the advanced vocalists talking as their gondola rounds a corner in the canal, at last coming into view.

“Shit, were we really that loud? I bet our gondolier hates us.”

“It’s fine, we sounded great.”

“We sounded like death, but maybe that’s just me.”

“Someone tell them to stop clapping, it’s embarrassing!” 

As the boat nears yours you see Seulgi waving wildly and next to her is Jungkook, the tenor with the enchanting voice. You and Jungkook haven’t run in the same social circles— despite sharing a class for three years, you’ve never spoken, and you’re quite certain that he’s unaware of your existence.

But you know of him. You’ll never forget that day in freshman year— your director was trying out guys one by one for a solo while the girls oooh’d as backup. You weren’t paying attention, just mindlessly holding your note when your director called on Jungkook to try out. Ten seconds after he began singing, your director needed to stop him because the backup had stuttered to a halt. Every single girl in choir, including you— and a fair number of the guys too— fell silent on hearing Jungkook’s voice. 

Within a minute you had developed a massive crush on him, but with a face and voice like his, Jungkook was impossibly out of your league.

“We’re not even playing the same sport,” you’d told Rena back then. “It’s more like he’s a star in the major leagues, and I sometimes trip over my own feet and call it exercise.” 

Your crush had faded quickly— you never spoke to him and it was hopeless anyways— but that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering whenever you heard him rehearse his solo. There was something impossibly attractive about a voice like his. The gondola ride is over quickly and you join your classmates in crowding around the tour guide.

“Alright, guys,” the guide says once everyone’s settled down, “you have an option: follow me to see a Venetian glassblowing master at work— it’ll only take an hour— or go off on your own and meet back here in three hours. Remember, groups of three or more at all times.”

You feel a tug on your hand. “C’mon, I need to go take pictures,” Rena says, holding up her phone. “Model for me?”

“Oh, uh... I sort of wanted to see the glassblowing,” you say lamely.

“You need to be in a group of at least three,” Hyuna mentions, “and you don’t have three.”

“Sure she does.” You feel a pat on your head and turn to see Taehyung winking at you. “Let me return the favor. My group is gonna check out the glassblowing— wanna come?”

“Sure,” you reply quickly. Rena’s your best friend and you adore her but sometimes she can be a bit controlling, and you’re in Italy. You want to do all sorts of cool stuff, not just walk around and take photos. Tae ushers you away to join the others and you shoot an apologetic glance at your friend, who shrugs good-naturedly and flashes you a thumbs up. 

“The others”, as you discover once about thirty of your classmates have squished into the glass exhibition room, are Jimin, Namjoon, and Jungkook. You’re on good terms with Jimin and Namjoon and you have a great time whispering and snickering in between heavily accented lessons in the art of glass. 

You don’t talk to Jungkook— you figure he’s the quiet type, probably best left alone to muse about life’s great mysteries or how to make his voice sound even better. The demonstration ends and people quickly empty out, off to find lunch in the time they have left. You catch up to Taehyung.

“Mind if I tag along again?”

“For sure— not that we know where we’re going,” Tae replies, and the five of you set off in search of food.

“How about this place? It doesn’t look bad.” Jimin points eventually at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant with a hopeful-looking waiter. The five of you settle down, you and Jungkook across from Namjoon and Jimin, with Taehyung at the head. The waiter returns with water, but as you reach for your glass you somehow manage to knock over the heavy pepper shaker, which falls on your other hand with a dull thud.

“Ah, fuck!” You yank your hand away and cradle it, beyond embarrassed that you’ve already screwed up in front of your new friends. While you’re still inwardly cursing yourself, an unfamiliar noise startles you. Beside you, Jungkook’s shoulders are shaking with mirth. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh.

“It wasn’t that funny,” you tell him indignantly.

“No, I just— I didn’t know you swore,” he chuckles, and you realize with a start that it’s the first time you’ve heard his speaking voice.

But also... “You didn’t figure I could curse?” You’ve got the mouth of a sailor, anyone that’s met you would know that.

“Well, you’re always so shy and quiet,” Jungkook explains, and you gasp at him. He thinks you’re quiet? Your director has had to tell you to and your friends to stop chattering on numerous occasions. And Jungkook, the golden boy, the born singer, thinks you‘re quiet?

“It’s big of you to make so many assumptions when we’ve never interacted,” you say, growing miffed. “How many times have I said hello to you in the last three years? And how many times have you responded?”

You see Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly. “I...”

It’s a valid question. Choir always puts you in a good mood, and you get outgoing when you’re cheerful. The number of times you’ve said “Hiiiii, Jungkook” and “Kookie, you’re my favorite” is embarrassingly high. He’s never replied with anything more than a nervous laugh or an “okay”. 

As you watch Jungkook struggle to answer, you feel a smile spreading across your face. Have you two really never had a conversation? Why?

The conversation wanders, as conversations are apt to do, and you begin talking about your fellow choir members. “Did you see Nayeon literally wearing stilettos on the cobble street? How does she still have ankles?” you wonder aloud. “See, this is why I wear this stuff.” You pluck at your plain black T-shirt and utilitarian beige shorts. “I mean, I look like literal trash, but-”

“Wh-why...” Jungkook laughs again and you can’t for the life of you figure out what’s so funny. He’s got a cute laugh, though. “Why would you say that?”

“Say what? That I look like trash?” You giggle inwardly at Jungkook’s nod of disbelief.

“It’s called self-deprecation, hon,” you say, lacing your fingers together.

“You shouldn’t say stuff like that about yourself,” he protests.

“Why? It’s funny and an unhealthy coping mechanism. Win-win.”

This time his laugh isn’t one of discomfort or shock, but rather a chuckle of fascination and amusement. Who’d have thought it, Mister Perfect is really growing on you.

You awake the next morning with a yawn— you and Taeyeon snuck over to Rena and Hyuna’s room after curfew last night to gossip, which was fun at the time but the choir is performing tonight and now you barely have the energy to make it through breakfast. Rena and Hyuna are already chattering when you join them.

Right when you’ve finished your toast and downed a pot of coffee, your director claps his hands.

“We’ve got a concert tonight, so bring your attire,” he says loudly. “We’re going to walk around Tuscany today. The bus ride is a few hours long, and we’re not coming back to the hotel, so bring your attire.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Taeyeon whispers.

“Because it is,” you reply.

You and Taeyeon are walking together to the bus after stopping by your room when a thought hits you.

“I’m an actual idiot,” you gasp. “Tae, go on without me, I’ll be right back.”

“What happened?”

“I forgot my attire,” you call over your shoulder, already running. You take the stairs two at a time, cursing yourself— you don’t want your director to call you out for being late to the bus. You burst into your room and grab your choir dress and shoes, hurrying back to the bus within seconds. The bus is nearly full when you get there, and Rena is already sitting with Hyuna and Taeyeon is sitting next to Jeongyeon and the only seat available is by... Jeon Jungkook. You approach him. “Is this seat taken?”

He moves his jacket off of the seat next to him in lieu of a response and you sit down quickly, so grateful you don’t have to do the awkward shuffle to find a seat. When your director is done lecturing on what proper tour behavior looks like, you pop in your earphones and put your show tunes playlist on full blast. An hour in, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You ignore it, sure it’s just Seokjin or Hoseok bothering you.

You feel another tap, this one more urgent. You look behind you in annoyance to find Seokjin and Hoseok asleep on each other. Then who’s...?

“Hey, I just wanted to mention,” Jungkook says, and his voice behind you makes you shiver. “You’re sort of singing out loud.”

You go red. “What? Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He snorts again and you roll your eyes. “Yes, I do swear,” you remind him. “Anyways, I’ll stop making noise now, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, I liked that song.” He begins humming along, picking up where you left off, and once again you’re struck by the rich tenor voice. You carefully remove your earphones, drinking in the snippets of lyrics and his quiet smile and the way his chest rises and falls with each breath.

You realize you’re staring and Jungkook must realize it too because he clams up. “Well, anyways...” he mutters, clearly embarrassed, and you press your lips together. Jeon Jungkook gets shy?

“Here.” You offer him an earphone. “Do you like show tunes?”

“I love them,” he replies with a smile. “I remember the first day of freshman year— you walked into choir singing a song from Wicked.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “How do you remember that?”

He shrugs. “How was I supposed to forget the girl that was so unafraid of being herself?”

You feel your heart flutter at his words and you swallow thickly. Time to ease the tension, or you might actually fall for him. “All that, and you still think I was the quiet type?” You poke him in the shoulder with your earphone. “Now, I’m offering this once. Listen to music with me?”

He grins, and a hint of a dimple appears on his cheek. “Once,” he agrees, taking the earphone while you queue up your favorites. 

Once turns to twice turns to more than you care to count and it becomes a regular thing, you and Jungkook sitting side by side, heads bobbing and fingers tapping in unison, and on those rare moments when he begins to sing along you fall silent and let the music wash over you. 

Obviously he’s out of your league but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice feelings bubbling up every now and then— when he understands your fandom references, or takes your music recommendations to heart. You tease him relentlessly about his perfect pitch and reputation, and he in turn begins to loosen up with you. On the sixth day of the tour, he makes a self-deprecating joke and you nearly choke on your pizza.

“Did you just...?”

“Maybe I did.”

“Am I corrupting you?”

The next week you fall in line with Rena and Taeyeon as the group traipses to the Trevi Fountain. “Hey, girls!”

“Shouldn’t you be walking with Jungkook?” Taeyeon says with a wink.

“I sat on the bus with him earlier— plus, you know I miss y’all.”

“Oh, no!” Rena squeals. “We’re going to the Trevi fountain, the most romantic spot of Rome. Go walk with Jungkook! You know everybody ships you two,” she nudges you forward, where Jungkook is walking with Jimin, Taehyung and Namjoon.

“Wh-guys!” You protest, your cheeks going red.

“You can’t walk with us,” Rena sings with a glint in her eye. “But I think Jungkook wants to talk to you.”

You sigh. “You’re not gonna leave this alone, are you?”

“Nope!” Your friends chorus. You roll your eyes, increasing your speed to catch up with Jungkook and company. As soon as Taehyung spots you, you see him whisper something to Jimin and Jimin and they all melt into the crowd.

“What was that about?” You ask as you fall in step beside Jungkook.

The tenor sighs. “Nothing. What’s up?”

“My friends are ostracizing me, so...”

Jungkook laughs. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.”

Your guide claps his hands, halting the group in a small plaza. “Alright gang, the Trevi fountain is just around the corner— home to iconic scenes, the most famous being Roman Holiday or that one episode of Futurama. The story goes that if you throw one coin in, you’ll return to Italy. If you throw two coins in, you’ll fall in love on this trip to Italy—“ here the choir oohs and shrieks— “and if you throw three coins in, you’ll come back and get married in Italy.”

“No one is throwing more than one!” Your director calls, and the group laughs.

“Want a coin?” You offer Jungkook as the crowd disperses. He looks like he’s going to say something, but instead nods and takes the coin, his fingertips lingering on your palm. There’s a tug on your heart, some crazy, stupid, impulsive longing to throw two coins into the fountain. Fall in love... on the choir trip? Pfft, how cliche. You shake your head and sit next to Jungkook on the edge of the fountain before throwing a coin over your shoulder.

“Just one, I see,” he teases, and you shrug nonchalantly.

“I’m not that powerful, Kookie. I don’t have a chance of falling in love— I don’t have your charm,” you reply, only half joking.

That night, you’re chilling in Rena and Hyuna’s room when your phone buzzes with a message. Hyuna swoops in and grabs it, shrieking excitedly at the notification: “it’s from Jungkook!”

“What?” You scramble forward, nearly falling off the bed in a bid to steal your phone back.

“Have you listened to Newsies?” Hyuna reads aloud. “Only a music recommendation? Ugh, boring.”

You snatch your phone away. ��Y’all are the worst, you know that?”

“Love you, y/n,” Rena replies dreamily.

You look down at your phone and your heart skips a beat: Jungkook is typing. And then stops. And starts again. And stops again. You’re growing so antsy that by the time he actually sends a message, you nearly drop your phone out of surprise.

Jungkook: hey save me a seat tomorrow on the bus ok?

You rub your eyes and type out a reply: ofc, who else tolerates my love for Dear Evan Hansen? You think for a moment before sending a follow up: although if we keep sitting together I think people will talk

Another buzz.

Jungkook: people already talk

You barely have time to take a shaky breath before a second message arrives.

Jungkook: can I ask u something

Moral support, you need moral support. 

“Guys...?” You ask, your voice almost cracking from the tension. You know you’re overreacting, it’s only been two weeks, so why do you care so much about whatever he’s going to say? With your luck it’ll end up being, can you share your playlist? Do you have the sheet music? The girls crowd around you to read over your shoulder. “Wait, oh my god, wait, is he...?” Taeyeon squeaks excitedly.

“Shut up, shut up,” you implore, eyes locked on your screen. Once again Jungkook begins typing, stopping and starting multiple times, each time eliciting groans of frustration from your friends. “Ugh, never mind,” you throw your phone on the bed and faceplant onto Rena’s pillow, your heart thudding from anticipation.

“He’s typing again,” Rena says from behind you— how does she know your password?— “wait, he actually sent something this time... oh my god!” Your heart drops into your stomach. It’s probably something dumb, or maybe bad news: I heard people ship us and I think that’s awful, perhaps.

“Are you into me?” Rena reads aloud. “Y/n, what are you going to say?”

Oh, fuck. He really does want to set the record straight. “I-I don’t know.”

“What do you feel?” Hyuna urges. What do you feel? You feel flustered, so flustered when he accidentally brushes your hand or laughs in delight at something you’ve said. You feel delight at the conspiratorial whispers when you try to walk ahead or behind your small groups together, and the scandalized gasps when one of you spills the latest choir tea.

“I mean fine, maybe I like him a little,” you admit, to the shrieks of delight from your girlfriends. “But what if he’s asking because he doesn’t like me? I mean, it’s Jeon Jungkook! He could have literally anyone— I heard Nayeon had a crush on him last year— why the fuck would he like me?”

“You won’t know till you try.” Rena says, raising an eyebrow. “Tell him. And ask him, too.”

You take a deep breath and type out a response: Yes. Do you like me? You’re tempted to send a follow up, an apology, saying you don’t want to ruin your friendship with him, it’s okay if he thinks you’re weird, but you don’t get a chance before he responds.

Jungkook: Yeah. After these last few days, I really do.

A/N thank you for reading!! As always, any and all feedback is welcome and thoroughly appreciated. My inbox is always open, and I hope you enjoyed! (And if you didn’t, tell me anyways so I can improve!)

[lostcybertronian]

#49 for Dr. Iplierst? :)

I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS ONEEEEE ALSO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG (Putting it under a cut cause it got reallllyyyyyy long)

Tags: @kawaiihetaliana @driplierstdaily

Ahead: fluff, gore, protective!Host, queer slurs, cussing, homophobia

Prompt 49: “Who hurt you?”

It was one of those rare times when Dr. Iplier was called away from the Ego facility to help out in a different clinic somewhere in a nearby city.

Normally, things went fine. The doctor came back exhausted but okay, and he always had a few interesting stories to tell about what he’d seen there.

Today, he was silent as they walked down the hall, and the Host sensed something like shame emanating from him.

“Edward,” he said they reached their bedroom, the doctor going to perch on the edge of the bed as the Host shut the door behind them.

“Host,” Edward replied and the Host frowned as he mumbled a few narrations: the way the doctor’s shoulders hunched forward, his ruffled hair falling into his face, over the crooked mirror strapped to his forehead.

The way he was close to tears, the way he raised a hand to cover his mouth as if he didn’t want the Host to know-

The Host came to kneel in front of him, taking his hand and drawing it away from his mouth, using the other to prod at the doctor’s face, pausing in his examination when Edward winced.

“The doctor has a bruise under his left eye and a split lip. He has been hit recently.” The Host inhaled sharply. “Who hurt you?”

“It’s not important.” Edward jerked his hand from the Host’s grasp. There was the rustling of fabric as he moved to stand, but the Host blocked his way.

“It is important,” he insisted, reaching for Edward’s hand again. This time the doctor didn’t pull away.

There was a deep, tired sigh. “One of my patients asked me about my wedding band, and …”

“And?” The Host prompted gently. He knew what had happened already, had narrowed down the possible explanations for his odd behavior since his husband had arrived home, but he also knew that it would eat away at Edward if he didn’t get it out.

“He wanted to know who the lucky lady was. I told him it was you.” Edward’s voice cracked and the sadness in his voice, the shame, made the Host’s blood boil. “He attacked me and … told me he didn’t want to be treated by a fag.”

The Host growled, but then felt Edward cringe and quickly tamped the anger down. He brought Edward’s hand up, pressed a tender kiss to his palm. “The doctor has done nothing wrong. He knows this.”

“Yeah,” came the soft reply.

“He knows the Host loves him.”

“Yes.” This time there was a hint of a smile in Edward’s voice.

The Host smiled too, despite feeling as if his insides were burning up with anger. He pressed small kisses to Edward’s fingers. “Does the doctor want to talk more about his day?”

Another sigh, less sad this time. “Yes.”

Edward fell asleep wrapped tightly in his arms, chest rising and falling peacefully, due only for the good dreams that the Host whispered in his ear.

The Host carefully extracted himself after making sure that the doctor would not wake up. It wouldn’t do for Edward to wake now, to stop him from doing what he set out to do- for Edward was a kind soul, much unlike the Host himself, and even at his own bodily harm, he wouldn’t wish ill against his transgressor- and so he did not dare narrate aloud as he fumbled for his shirt and pants, then for his trenchcoat.

He left without so much as a glance back, a cruel smile pulling at his lips.

The man- did his name matter, really? It was known, but not cared about, he was nothing more than a man, a character really- was big and well-muscled. He didn’t seem affected by the chilled night air as he walked- swaggered was more of an apt term- down the sidewalk.

He did, however, notice the man sitting on a bench on the corner, illuminated by a flickering streetlight.

It was odd. Not the way he was dressed, in a dingy trenchcoat and scuffed shoes and a pair of black slacks, but the dirty, blood-stained cloth tied around his head, covering his eyes.

Despite being obviously blind, he had a book open in his lap and his fingers traced the pages as he muttered the words to himself.

Chills ran down the character’s spine, but nonetheless he snapped, “get a job, bum!”

The book snapped shut, and the man’s head jerked up, his head tilting toward the character. His lips kept moving. He made no other move toward the character but something compelled the character to quicken his pace. Soon he left the man behind.

“Weirdo.” He muttered to himself, pawing at the bandages covering his broken nose. It was worth risking arrest for punching that doctor in the face. He’d managed to disappear before the police had even been called.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker of tan.

There he was again. He leaned against a street sign, book tucked underneath one arm. His face was turned away from the character, but his head was tilted in a way that the character knew his every move was being tracked.

“Go-go away!” He shouted, and broke into a run.

The man made no move to follow: he merely kept leaning against that street sign, and the character quickly left him behind as he sprinted away as fast as he could.

Three blocks later, his apartment building was in sight. The character slowed, breath coming in hard gasps, sweat rolling down his forehead. He kept checking over his shoulder, just in case he was being followed.

There was no one.

The character made it up to his apartment without any further incident. His keys jangled as he fumbled with the lock to his door.

He swore when he flipped the light switch but no light flicked on. Must be the damn fuses again.

“It must be the damn fuses again, the character thinks. Little does he know he is so, so wrong.”

The character froze. “Who the hell is there?”

“The character is afraid. It feels like ice is creeping over his skin.”

Fear crept through him, tendrils of it curling into his blood, feeling like ice. The character gulped, raked a trembling hand through his hair. Nonetheless he steeled himself and retrieved a flashlight from the kitchen drawer before venturing further into his apartment.

“He knows what he did.” The voice came from his right, like the words were being spoken right into his ear.

The character gave a shout and struck out with the flashlight. It hit nothing. The bright beams of light found nothing but the dull beige-colored wall.

“He hurt what was not his to hurt. He spread hate where there should be none.” From his left now, whispered words being hissed.

“I-I don’t know what-what you’re talking about!” The character swung his flashlight wildly, the halo of light bouncing off the walls. “Le-leave me the fuck alone!”

“The character’s efforts are futile. The Host won’t be found unless he wants to be found.”

The flashlight caught a flicker of tan. The character screamed and jumped back as the man from before was suddenly standing in front of him, illuminated by the flashlight.

Despite being much physically smaller than the character, the man still managed to loom. The book was still tucked under his arm. He set it on an end-table that sat in the hallway.

“And he does.” His lips moved rapidly, muttering to himself, words that the character couldn’t quite pick up.

Anger flooded through him. How dare he break in? And for what purpose? To scare him? I’ll show this asshole!

“I’ll kill you!” He bellowed, bringing back his fist, going in for a harsh punch. He’d teach this motherfucker a lesson.

The man’s hand came up, seized his fist in a grip of steel before it could connect. He squeezed, and the character yelped as he felt something in his hand crack.

“There is a bat leaning against the end-table. The Host takes it.”

With his free hand, the man reached out, fingers closing around a metal baseball bat that hadn’t been there previously.

At least, the character didn’t remember it being there.

“The Host releases the character, who remains frozen in fear, unable to move.”

The character’s fist was released, but no matter how hard he tried to move, to flee this psycho, he couldn’t. His feet were locked to the floor. He paled.

“The character knows he must pay, but he has not the sense of mind to do it. He is full of hate and rage. A disease, unable to be cured. So the Host must do it himself.”

The last thing the character saw was the bat, swinging toward him. He fell, clawing at the walls in desperation as he went. The flashlight fell to the floor, bleeding light onto the carpet. The last thing he felt was enormous pain as the bat came down on him again, and again, and again.

Edward woke up to the bed dipping as the Host climbed into it, smiled as arms slipped back around him and he was pulled back against a warm, firm chest.

“Where did you go?” He mumbled, half-asleep.

He felt the Host smile into his neck, felt a pair of lips press a kiss there.

But he received no answer, and soon he was asleep again anyway.