#*and I like that she’s decided she WON’T do anything for the government but will still keep her title*

[radioscientist]

I have… complex Thoughts about Boa’s introduction

[letoasai]

dp x dc Chronos part 5

Part 1 - Previous - Master list

Diana was furious. 

She’d known her young uncle for only a handful of hours but here she was, ready to go to war for him. Perhaps that was what her grandfather had meant earlier, his words still ringing in her ears. 

I have a task for you, Diana. One i do not think you will turn now but i’ll give you the illusion of choice.

Perhaps it was less an illusion and more her grandfather merely knowing ahead of time how she would react. If Danny was to be believed – and he did seem such a trustworthy boy – his Clockwork knew every path one could take. 

She knew there were still questions to be asked, but Danny had been able to tell her a great deal before his eyes began to droop and she insisted he try to sleep. The curtains to the room had been left open and she watched as his eyes happily glazed over at the sight of open space before him. It had only taken minutes for him to fall asleep. 

Now she had a lot of work to do and she planned to get as much done while Danny slept as she could. 

She entered the conference room with a quick stride, many members already present for the meeting she had ordered via text. They’d learned that some equipment didn’t work well around Danny. Visuals were blurry at best and audio crackled into something indistinguishable. Diana had instead been texting information to Bruce and Kal to look into while she focused on the boy. 

“Were you able to find anything?” She asked immediately, not elaborating on which fact she was talking about. She’d sent them so many little snippets that she didn’t really care where they started. 

Batman just grunted, and despite wearing his cowl, she could see just how unhappy he was. 

“You’re not going to like it, but you expected that.” Superman said, papers laid out in front of him. He wasn’t the only one doing his research. 

Green Lantern and Flash were still there, the latter looking like he was having an existential crisis over the topic of ghosts. 

Martian Manhunter had also arrived, his frown informing her that the others had caught him up on what had been happening. 

“Can we confirm the truth as Danny has laid it out for us?” She asked, taking a seat. 

“Oh, yeah.” Hal muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. “Constantine will arrive later, but he could confirm the new High King of the Infinite Realm went by Phantom. Never heard him sound so horrified as him learning that someone had punched a hole into another realm in their house though. Inter-dimensional war crimes on our end are stacking up.” 

“Our end?” She asked. 

“The GIW…” Bruce began, sounding a mixture of exhausted and livid. “Are completely out of their depth and did not have the authority to just name a species unidentified to the rest of us as non-sentient. If the Infinite Realm retaliates, and John thinks it’s a possibility, it won’t just be aimed at the GIW alone but the entire dimension. That makes this more of a mess for us to clean up than it already was.” 

They’d already decided to help, that was what they did. But there was a difference in lending a hand and righting a wrong and taking responsibility for someone else’s fuck ups because they had to. 

“Can we prove it?” Diana asked. 

“Absolutely.” Kal nodded. “Honestly, for a government agency, their security is a joke. There was a backdoor already in place. We can ask Danny about that later.”

Diana nodded, certain the information would be good in his hands. She turned her attention back to Bruce. “The Fentons?” 

There was a certain level of disgust that tried to choke her out in that situation. Danny had been so hesitant, the betrayal fresh and painful. She had lived in the World of Men for a long time now and it had as many delights as it did drawbacks, but to learn what Danny’s parents had attempted to do to him left her burning to seek them out herself. 

His mother had lost her privilege to refer to herself as such.

She didn’t care what the circumstances were. Capture and torture with the intentions of vivisection was inexcusable. The target being a child made it all the more heinous. Diana knew Batman would understand without her saying a word. 

“Run of the mill mad scientists. They might have been onto something once when it came to energy but their bias took over. Even if they had been correct about ecto-entities, their language is incredibly inappropriate. No licenced and competent science journal would be associated with that.” He stared at her unhappily. “They’re lunatics. The fact that their children grew up in their home is outrageous.” He hit a button on the remote and a location appeared on the computer screens. 

A bricked house on a street corner, enormous Fenton Works sign taking up most of the front. It was an eyesore, but not as much as the sci-fi looking shuttle sticking out of the roof. The OHSA violations alone should have had the building condemned and there was no way permits had been granted for any of that construction. 

It was a supervillain's dream and not the least bit subtle. It should have been a crime in itself for the town to allow it to remain in a residential area and was shocking that no calls to Child Protective Services had been made. 

Yes, Danny was an exceptional being, but Diana understood now all the likely scenarios where he could have died in that house. Danny had called his death an accident, but she wasn’t so certain about that. “They were the ones to hurt him.” Diana said, hating how her throat was tight. She was already emotionally compromised. 

“Yes, i know.” 

Diana’s attention snapped back to him. “How?” 

“Simple reasoning. They are unstable ghost hunters with questionable science. Danny was removed from his home for his safety. Chronos said he needed a guardian. That doesn’t paint a pretty picture.” Bruce muttered. “Either his guardians couldn’t care for him, or shouldn’t care for him.” 

She felt her shoulders relax somewhat, knowing that such a logical conclusion should have occurred to her too. She really was worried about Danny’s recovery. “We can add it to the file i know you’ve created, but i’d prefer if no one asked him about that at this time. This last attack only happened several days ago and it is still fresh on his mind.” 

Bruce’s eyes narrowed, always a hound when it came to sniffing out abused kids. “This last attack?” 

“They’ve been after him for a while.” Diana hummed, though she’d only had a vague example or two since Danny hadn’t wanted to get into it. She couldn’t imagine how he’d just returned home every day to parents who tried to capture his other persona. 

“We must factor in his identity.” Martian Manhunter approached them, having been listening. J’onn had been doing his own research the last several hours. He laid down a startlingly clear picture of Danny in his white haired ghost form. A print out of an Amity Park newspaper article. 

“What is that?” Bruce frowned, sliding it closer to read. 

“The hero of Amity Park. Phantom. The articles are biased and unfavorable, but that is not the current accepted public opinion. Phantom protects the living from ghosts. He also protects the ghosts from the ghost hunters.” J’onn explained, voice carefully neutral. “Phantom appearing other places, perhaps shouldn’t coincide with where Daniel Fenton ends up.” 

“A name change could be warranted. If that’s what he wants.” Bruce adds. 

J’onn gave a single nod. “It’s a great deal of pressure on one teenager's shoulders. Being a king of a realm on top of that…” 

It was silently agreed upon that Danny deserved this break and Diana was going to get it for him.

“It was only a matter of time before something had to give.” Diana said, turning enough to speak to everyone in the room. “Well he won’t be dealing with all of that alone now. We start with dismantling the GIW, appealing the Anti-Ecto Acts, and smoothing over our relations with the Infinite Realm.” 

“Only that much, huh?” Flash muttered, trying to wrap his head around the science of ghost hunting. 

“Why not get some of the kids involved. Young Justice, maybe?” Hal was rubbing his eyes, not looking forward to the consequences of this mess. “Once he heals it might do him some good to be around others closer to his own age. People he wouldn’t need to hide half of himself from.”

When put like that, Diana could only agree. 

“I’ll mention it to him.” “I’ll get the information i have to Lois.” Clark said, sliding his papers into a binder. “If public opinion of Phantom is already decent in Amity Park, then we’ll up the exposure to put pressure on our oblivious government.” 

“I’ll take a few of the GIW facilities.” Bruce muttered, but he had that familiar tone that said he was about to let his children go buck wild. “A little recon…” he added vaguely. 

Before anyone else could put in their own two cents, the sensors went off, exactly how they had before Chronos had arrived. A paranormal knock of sorts before the very air seemed to split in two, a glowing green portal building around it. 

“Here we go again.” Barry muttered, each of them surrounding the portal as they’d done early for safety’s sake but they were less inclined to fight immediately. 

As J’onn was seeing it for the first time, he remained near Diana, keenly watching the portal manifest. It wasn’t Chronos who stepped out though, it wasn’t human at all. 

From the portal stepped a creature that Diana didn’t have the name for. Bipedal, humanoid, but beast like in appearance. Horns on his head and spikes from his tail made of ice were noticed secondary to his arm of ice that still encased his bones inside. His fur was white, his claws could easily kill and he was covered by a kilt and cape. 

What gave Diana pause as the bag slung over one shoulder, the tell tale signs of a medical cross across the front. 

“Who are you?” Superman asked, more polite than their earlier run in with her grandfather. 

The creature, a ghost presumably, held himself rigid. He was doing a great deal to make himself appear smaller then he was but his gaze was assessing. He was ready to fight if necessary. 

“I am here for His Majesty, the Great One.” Was his response. 

Diana stepped forward, deciding this was exactly what she suspected. “I am Diana. Granddaughter of Chronos who Danny fondly calls Clockwork. You are Frostbite, come to check on Danny, yes?” 

All of his attention was on her now, but he seemed to see what he wanted in her after locking eyes. “I am. Frostbite, Ruler of the Infinite Realm’s Far Frozen. I have come to see Our Savior the King, as his primary physician.”

“He’s a doctor.” Flash whispered. 

“Fascinating.” J’onn muttered, sounding a little winded by whatever he was sensing. “He is who he claims.” 

“I’m relieved.” Diana muttered, approaching him with a smile this time. “Please come with me and i will take you to Danny. I’m afraid we did what we could but his unique biology left us questioning our choices. He is resting in a private room.” 

“Did something happen to setback his recovery?” Frostbite asked, serious over the care of his charge as he followed Wonder Woman out of the conference room without so much as a glance back at the other heros. 

“Excitement, i believe.” Diana offered. “He may have been a little too excited to show off his alternate, living form and seemed to forget his condition.” 

Frostbite actually snorted. “Sounds like him.”

“I did not realize how badly wounded he was. We had been talking about our arrangements and he was answering my questions about ghosts. He appeared sore, but fairly pleased to speak with me. Given what he had just been through…” 

Frostbite grunted his agreement. “His heart is soft, but his will is unlike anything i have ever known. Many of us saw this tragedy coming, but he insisted on seeing it out for himself, hoping for a favorable ending.” 

Diana cracked her knuckles out of habit, that anger still simmering. “He will be safe in my care, i assure you.”

“The Great One is the rightful King to our realm, but many forget he is still just a child.” Frostbite said, eyeing her even as she led him through the Watchtower. 

“It is not something i am likely to forget.” Not after she’d seen how small he was in their medbay bed. “He’s resting but weak, you can help?” 

“As long as he has not taken more damage, i’m sure i can.” Frostbite said, a gentleness to his voice as they stopped at Danny’s room. Diana went in first to prove the area was a safe one but that may not have mattered given how quickly Frostbite followed her. 

He was at Danny’s bedside in an instant, having somehow moved passed her without knocking into her. He could have gone through her for all she knew. For all he seemed to be a hulking beast, Frostbite was nothing but gentle as he examined Danny. He looked over any and all work that had been done to Danny since his arrival, and checked the bandages across his torso. He went as far as to grab the clipboard on the foot of Danny’s bed to read, having no trouble understanding the medical jargon. 

From his medical bag, he pulled out several small bottles, all of them growing a toxic green. Injections were given to the teenager, and it didn’t seem to matter that he was in his living, dark haired form. 

“Has he explained to you what it means to be a halfa?” Frostbite finally asked, breaking the silence. 

“Only in vague, teenager terms.” Diana said. She’d been quite sure that Danny’s flippant attitude was more a coping mechanism than anything.

Frostbite just hummed. “Then i will have to fill you in.”

[totaly-obsessed]

Nerves

Alessia Russo x reader request

-> Reader navigates the uncertainties of her career, academic studies, and the pressures of her first senior England camp, finding solace and comfort in her relationship

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

As a female football player your future career was not guaranteed - one wrong step and all this could be over. Your dream and passion since childhood days could be over.

Anxious as you were, you decided to do something on the side, educate yourself further, and so that it wasn’t as far off from your day job, you had started to study sports science two years ago. The choice of study had been made quickly, after all, you couldn't imagine a life away from the pitch.

Alessia, your girlfriend, stood fully behind you - ready to drive you to the few in-person lectures you had. The blonde would do anything for you. Washing dishes, doing the laundry, sweeping, cooking? One little smile from you and the housework-allergic striker turned into a housewife.

Being called up to your first-ever senior England camp had not been in the plans. Sure it was always something you thought about, especially when Less left for the camps, but you never thought that you would make it this far.

Your girlfriend however had a feeling that you would join her this time - and she was proven right when Sarina called you. The blonde jumped up and down in celebration, pulling you up with her. But once she saw the tears streaming down your face, you were in her strong arms, ready to dry them with her sweater.

The weeks leading up to camp were anything but relaxing - one exam after the other. And they wouldn’t stop for a couple of days either. 

Alessia had been watching you wear yourself thin, most days were filled with practice, media, recovery, and games. Nights were spent studying methods to reduce the risk of sports injuries and strategies for rehabilitating injuries when they occur as well as analyzing the social and cultural aspects of sports participation, organization, governance, and marketing.

If the half-Italian was honest, she didn't understand most of the things you were reading about. Making one flashcard after the other in desperate attempts to get it in your head as she watched the circles under your eyes darken.

The day you left for camp she had been hopeful that things would change from now on. You were out of the comfort of your home, confronted with new and old acquaintances and friends.

But of course, it didn't go as planned.

“Are you sure that you even have a girlfriend, Less?”

You had barricaded yourself in your room for the third evening in a row, trying to prepare for the last exam as well as you possibly could.

“We’ve been over this Tooney, just a few more days!”

The following Monday Alessia had woken you up early, shaking you softly as a paper stuck to your cheek. You had fallen asleep on the desk, and by the look of the untouched bed, this probably wasn't the first time either.

“Buongiorno amore mio, è ora di svegliarsi!” Time to wake up? No that couldn't be.

But a glance at the watch on the wall confirmed your girlfriend's words, you really had to get up now. “Thanks, Lessi.”

A soft peck on the lips later and your girlfriend was willing to help you get ready, or rather gather your things and pack your bag while you were in the bathroom. 

The car ride to your Uni had been peaceful. Just you and Alessia. It hadn't been like that for a while as you were always studying.

“I’m sorry for being a shit girlfriend lately, Less.”

The blonde's head snapped over so fast that you couldn't even blink. “Don’t you dare say that! You’ve been such a good student, and after this, I won’t let you go that easily.”

“Less, eyes on the road!” your clumsy girlfriend had filled with sudden rage at your guilt, headed straight towards a tree on the side of the road.

“Whoops.”

Alessia could see an immediate difference in you when you sat down in her car again. You felt happier. Not a single word was lost in regard to the exam when it had been all you could talk about before. 

While you felt freer you still looked and were incredibly tired, something even Tooney could see, who had been excited to get your lively person back. She missed her go-to person when Less was boring and wouldn’t run around like a crazy person with her.

So when you refused to play darts with her, clinging to your girlfriend on a couch, she was incredibly disappointed. 

“C’mon, I just got you back - play with me before you go back to fucking London!” But the brunette's whining just earned her a shove from her best friend.

“Leave us alone Ella.”

A whisper went through the room, everyone quietly watching as they glared at each other while you snuggled deeper into Lessi’s neck, desperate to sleep.

“No fair! You have her all the time!” She looked like a little kid whose toy had been taken away. And in a way it had been.

“I don’t care Ell-”

“Okay, off Ella!” It was Mary who pulled the angry chihuahua off Alessia's legs and now pointed up at the stairs, “You two, upstairs!”

The blonde didn’t hesitate and stood up, careful not to jostle you too much as she made her way up the stairs. Ella could only watch, mouth wide open, as you waved her goodbye, your head resting on your girlfriend's shoulder.

“You brat!”

[caraphernellie]

cowboy like me // e.w. [chapter one]

summary: a modern day princess living under outdated royal protocol in which your own existence is forbidden. in a typical state visit to strengthen your country's relations with the united states, you find it harder than ever to keep your sexuality secret when you meet the president's daughter, ellie williams, and sparks fly.

wc: 2.1k masterlist

content warnings: fluff, angst, eventual smut. homophobia, governments, monarchy, politics. reader is specified as lesbian with she/her pronouns used for plot purposes i sorry, smoking, making out, femme! reader. u-haul lesbians fr. reader plays piano. ellie is a disaster lesbian lmaooooo. she's also super privileged and a bit of an ass. mostly based off of the british royal family in terms of royal protocol and all that shit, don’t kill me if things are inaccurate i’m not american, this chapter is more an intro to ellie's character and establishing tension

authors note: i'm so excited about this fic... but i might hate it in the morning so we'll see!! i've never read/watched red white and royal blue but it did inspire this fic (do not expect it to be anything like rwrb as i said i don't know what happens in it lmao). ellie's the president's daughter obvs. if your country doesn't have a monarchy just pretend there is one. if you're from the us then L 💀 play pretend

converse sneakers pelting across marble tiled floors with an onslaught of urgency, ellie makes her way through the halls. she stops at a mirror for a second, a muse in her mind– eh, good enough.

smoothing down flyaway hairs, ellie realises spending free time in the courtyard outside may not have been the best idea on a cool spring day such as this. the winter is still lingering, breezes battering the flag of red, white, and blue on the roof of the building as warm temperatures are still fresh. still- she needs as much a distraction as anyone else. as if procrastinating on something like homework, assignments, except the only thing ellie has done is make herself late to the introductory banquet of the royal family. all she knows is the president won’t be happy with her. 

bringing her wrist to her nose, ellie sniffs, though it’s less sniffing and more inhaling, trying to figure out if she has masked the smell of the cigarette she wasted or if she needs more cologne.

ellie’s caught by a housekeeper with her face stuck awkwardly into her suit jacket, furrowed brows as she inspects her own scent. pausing, a strained smile takes its place on chapped lips.

“he–”

“goodness, miss williams, you’re terribly late,” the housekeeper says, quickly approaching. “staff have been searching everywhere for you.”

“right,” ellie mumbles, straightening up her posture. “sorry. i’ll be on my way to the state dining room right now.”

approaching said room, ellie can already hear the fuss– loud and polite conversations, the snapping of photos, subtle classical playing over the speakers. christ, ellie thinks, how do i render myself invisible?

ellie’s worries ease the minute she steps inside, however, as the commotion isn’t around her own family today. it’s the royal family. and that realisation almost sparks up yet another mini freakout in ellie’s mind. she’s been looking forward to this for weeks, of course she has, a hot princess living in her home for an entire month..? that’s something she could get used to. but it’s real now, and just staring at you is sending a chill down ellie’s spine.

flash photography and yelling of the invited press is suffocating ellie as she ventures further into the room. she hasn’t even been noticed yet, thank god, so she decides to humbly busy herself at the table of finger food. until–

“ellie williams?”

a delicate voice smooth and sweet, ellie’s ears prick up to the sound of an accent unique and she knows exactly who this has to be.

fuck.

ellie makes quick effort to swallow the stupid cocktail frank she was eating and turns around, wiping her clammy hands on the ass of her slacks.

a princess standing right in front of her, of course these things only happen to ellie in her most cringeworthy moments. demolishing a table of finger food… what can she say? she’s an anxious snacker.

“ah-” ellie’s eyes meet your own and she gulps, extending a hand. “a pleasure to meet you, princess…”

get your head in the game, ellie. she clears her throat, putting on her famous, confident smile. and as you place your hand in hers, she acts purely without thinking, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. nobody was watching, but ellie drops your hand in an instant- is flirting with a princess the right move? even if it’s humorous?

your brain just about short-circuits, and ellie’s reeling. that was stupid, so stupid. acting on total whim.

the collar of ellie’s shirt feels too tight as she observes the split-second utter shock in your eyes, though she relaxes as you reward her a smile. and it isn’t that typical, media-trained smile, either.

“charming,” you murmur in response, eyes fixed on ellie’s piercing greens. however delighted you might be to be treated in this way by a girl like ellie, the way in which you hide it is effortless.

and charming, of course, is exactly what ellie is. messy, shirt creased and hair tousled and she honestly reeks of expensive cologne and faint smoke – but she has that handsome smile and that confident demeanour that the girls of washington d.c. fall for so easily.

“i hope so,” ellie says with an awkward chuckle, shoving her hands into her pockets. “that’s the aim of the game.”

you laugh similarly, politely, and make it as clear as possible to glance ellie up and down. “i’ll play.”

and the look on ellie’s face is plain silly at the least, her brows furrowed and eyes wide. “wh- uh..”

“say, it’s a little stuffy in here,” you say, gently fanning yourself, “you wouldn’t happen to know of any quiet spaces we could disappear to?”

ellie’s lips form a small o-shape as she processes the question. you want to be alone with her. a smirk crosses ellie’s face and she nods, “absolutely, your highness. my office.”

“would you be so kind as to show me to it?”

“of course, follow me,” ellie nods her head to the direction of the door. “we’ll have to sneak around.”

your heels click against the floor while ellie leads you down the hall, the sound a constant reminder to her that you’re actually walking alongside her. approaching a large door adorned by a gold plate with ellie’s name carved into it, she pulls a key from her pocket. and yet her eyes are on you the whole time.

the door clicks open and ellie holds it for you, only for her face to turn red when met with the sight of her office.

“excuse the mess,” she mutters, closing and locking the door behind the two of you. “i was uh, in here late last night. i had a speech to work on.”

“it’s alright,” you say, “some organised mess makes it homely.”

“right,” ellie nods. she’s beyond sensical thought now, just going along with anything you say. try harder. this is ellie’s issue, she eggs herself on too much, gets too overzealous, does things for the sake of doing them because her life has quite literally no direction if she doesn’t set herself these impossible dares. “just take a seat anywhere if you like. the couch is pretty comfy.”

ellie makes a pointless attempt to tidy some papers on her desk. she doesn’t necessarily do a lot of work here, though she enjoys being an activist, often writing speeches and finding causes to help others. though it did only begin in the first place as a way to increase the votes for her father’s party during the election- that doesn’t mean it isn’t genuine!

it’s just that ellie’s lazy ass needs pressure to do these things.

she gnaws her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, watching as you sit on the two-seater, eyeing the guitars along the wall of the office. “you play?”

“hm? no,” you say, watching ellie take a warm toned acoustic and sit beside you. “i’m a pianist, though.”

“pianist?” ellie chuckles, thumb stroking over each string of the guitar. “you’ll have to play for me sometime.”

you nod, watching intently as ellie begins playing a quiet tune. she can’t help but notice your rigid, straight posture. she can’t tell if you just have great posture, or if you’re uncomfortable.

but, noticing your eyes lingering over her nimble fingers as they pick at the guitar, ellie’s lips curl upwards just slightly.

she knows well when she’s got a girl worked up. she’d never expected the princess to be this easy.

“music is just beautiful,” you say with a small nod, again, that genuine smile small as ever on your lips insecurely. “nothing like it.”

“you think so?” ellie muses, and when you manage to finally stray your eyes from her hands, you meet ellie’s own soft gaze. “because i think… even the most beautiful ballad couldn’t compare to the solid view i got right now.”

you scoff, turning quiet as heat fills your cheeks. your brows furrow as you tilt your head a nod to the side, studying ellie’s features, searching for any hint of dishonesty. and it’s like she can tell that, with your gaze silently begging her to not be messing with you- she turns her expression more serious.

“you’re something else, williams,” you retort, though adjusting yourself a little closer. knees touch, and you don’t flinch away.

“yeah?” ellie grins. the room goes silent, ellie no longer continuing to play her tune. the guitar on her lap, she rests her chin over it. “something good, or something bad?”

there’s a more subtle smirk on her face now. she begins to move, setting the guitar down and leaning it against the couch as she shifts even closer.

“mmm…” you think for a moment, a smaller expression of interest visible across your features. “something that my head tells me is not a good idea, but my heart says is just fine.”

how the fuck did i get here, ellie wonders? she’s running on pure luck at this point. stumbled in late and somehow she’s got a princess way in over her head.

and ellie doesn’t leave you waiting a moment longer– the second you lean closer she’s grabbing your head and meeting your lips in a fervent kiss, one you gasp into and immediately lean into, hands falling into place with one on her chest and the other on the back of her neck.

pulling away breathlessly, ellie chuckles a bit and shrugs her shoulders, “eh- oops?” she looks almost embarrassed by her own reckless act. “sorry.”

there’s too much going on for you– just too much in your head. your first kiss, the first other lesbian you’ve ever met. her words get you weak in the knees, yet she gets just as flustered by her own actions which seem to only ever work on impulse. so you start laughing, and you can’t stop.

ellie herself laughs a little, watching you giggle at her pink face as you lean into the back of the couch and hold up a cushion to hide your face. it’s all snorting and snickering and ellie’s face is getting redder.

she snatches the cushion out of your hands and raises a brow at you, “if you keep being that cute i’m gonna–”

“sorry,” you laugh, “sorry-”

ellie can’t help but notice how much it seems like you really needed this laughing fit, the way it’s instantly relaxed you…

“that’s it,” she mutters with a chuckle, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. “c’mere.”

the yelp of surprise that ellie’s movement elicits has her beaming, holding you on her lap. she rests a hand on the back of your head, the other cupping your ass. it’s indecent, indelicate to touch a princess like that, and yet you’re not stopping her. ellie’s already found herself addicted.

because this time ellie lets herself just go, pressing her lips to yours. she swipes her tongue over your bottom lip, grunting as you gasp. with your lips parted she slips her tongue into the kiss. she isn’t just kissing you, she’s devouring. she’s making sure not to leave an inch of your mouth unexplored, nor will she allow it for your body, getting rather handsy. every pretty little sound you breathe motivates her to continue, pulling you back in every time you pull back for air.

a hand slides under your dress, gripping your thigh, the other squeezes your breast before gliding to the curve of your ass, and she slumps into the couch. her boxers are growing uncomfortably wet and she needs to do something about it, hold you down on her desk and–

a key turns in the door and her eyes snap open, as do yours. not a single word is said but the panicked look you share tells all as you move back onto the couch beside ellie, smoothing down your dress. she grabs her forgotten guitar and moves it onto her lap.

and in mere seconds, the door opens to reveal a housekeeper who had used the master key to get in. and she’s clueless, though a little discomforted by the taut smiles you and ellie offer.

“sorry to interrupt you, ladies,” she offers awkwardly. “nobody has seen either of you in a long time, it was requested by president williams that we search the place.”

“ah,” ellie muses, clearing her throat before her voice can come out as weak as it feels. “i understand. we’re alright, yes, sorry, um… we needed a quiet place.”

sitting there with that prim and proper posture once again, your leg crossed over the other, you stare at ellie, resisting the urge to reach over right now and fix her hair after having ran your hands through it with desperation.

this is going to be an interesting state visit.

tag list (msg me or find my tag list in my pinned post if u want to be tagged!!): @dinasvampgf

🙈🙈 omg this fic..

[gigabyte-flare]

There’s No Escape (Part 1)

Summary: You are going through a rather nasty breakup as you escape your ex-boyfriend’s apartment while he’s away on a top secret government assignment. You move to a completely new state in hopes he won’t find you. You clearly underestimated his determination because he has no intention of letting you go. 

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 1.1k (Next part should be longer! Wanted to get story building stuff out of the way before getting to the good stuff ;) )

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic 

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings may be added in the future

A/N: @dollrxst, @hxllfiredoll, @nexyswrites, @ghostkennedy, @lipglossanon and like a bunch of others who’s fics I’ve consumed and have been inspired by, this is all your fault and I’m not even mad about it. Please excuse grammatical errors and such, it’s been a hot second since I’ve written stuff like this. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was now or never.

Leon Scott Kennedy, your soon to be ex-boyfriend, is away on some top secret government assignment and isn’t due back for about three days. You had been seeing each other for about six months and he insisted you move in with him after three months. He seemed wonderful at first, but living with him proved to be way more than you had signed up for.

He was bat shit insane.

You weren’t sure if it was due to unaddressed trauma from his line of work or whatever but his controlling and sick nature was ludicrous to you. He was controlling, manipulative and sick in the head. His idea of fun was holding a knife to your throat while fucking the absolute shit out of you. That was just the tip of the iceberg on the things he forced you to do for his pleasure. 

Anything you absolutely could not live without was getting stuffed into your little Jeep Renegade. If it didn’t fit, it was getting left behind because you had absolutely no intention of coming back. Clothes, toiletries, some of your books, your video game console and games, a couple pillows and some sheets all got stuffed in. When you were confident you had everything essential for your impromptu move, you closed the back hatch on the Renegade and grabbed your purse, phone and car keys from the kitchen counter, making sure to leave the copy of the apartment key you miraculously found behind. You lock the apartment door and shut it. You lean up against it and take a deep breath before you rush back down to your car. You had a long ride ahead of you; Washington D.C. to Boston was about a 9 hour drive.

It was now or never; you weren’t about to squander this opportunity to escape.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was dark by the time you finally arrived in Boston. You navigate the confusing winding streets and find your apartment that you got with your best friend, Becky. You see her come out of the front door as you pull up in your car and park. You see her wave as you step out.

“Hey, you made it! I trust you had a good ride,” she inquires.

“Yeah, long as hell, sorry I’m so late. What time is it?”

“It’s like 9:30, come on in! I ordered pizza for us,” she says, motioning you in. 

You grab your purse, keys, phone and one of the pillows you had stuffed into your car and go inside the apartment. You decide you can unload your stuff in the morning. The kitchen is the first room you end up in and you set your stuff down on the small island before stumbling your tired legs into the living room where the smell of pizza was calling your name. You practically collapse in a reclining chair after grabbing a slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table. You let out a loud sigh of relief. You made it. You escaped.

“How are you feeling?” Becky asks before taking a bite out of her slice of pizza.

You finish chewing on yours and swallow hard, “I’ve never been so happy in my life. I’m honestly surprised I’m not dead from some of the bullshit Leon pulled.”

Becky shifts nervously on the couch. She was the only person you confided in about your sick, demented ex-boyfriend. You didn’t even tell your parents, you didn’t want to worry them. 

When you moved in with Leon, he forced you to quit your well paying I.T. job and forbade you from ever leaving the apartment alone. He took your phone away, but you found ways to sneak it back so that you could at least contact Becky. You didn’t want to think about the things he made you do; it was an absolute miracle you weren’t dead or pregnant from the amount of abuse you endured. 

“He hasn’t contacted you yet, has he?” 

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you lean back in the recliner, “nah, he won’t be back from whatever assignment he’s on for another few days, and I blocked his number.”

“Good,” Becky replies with a nod.

“I’m going to hit the sack,” you say suddenly as you get up from the chair and begin to walk back into the kitchen to collect your stuff. 

“No problem, I’ll help you unload your car tomorrow. I was able to get the day off from work.”

“Thanks, Becky.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It’s late in the afternoon when Leon finally gets home from his excursion, his forearms covered in scraps and bruises. He couldn’t wait to see his baby girl, his cock growing hard from the anticipation. 

He fumbled with his keys in the low light until finding the correct one to unlock the front door to the apartment. He unlocks the door and opens it.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” Leon calls out.

But there’s no response.

“Sweetie? Are you asleep?”

Nothing.

Leon could feel adrenaline rush through his veins as he starts to frantically search each room for his sweetheart. He became hyper aware of the dead silence of the apartment the further he searched. When he got to the bedroom, he ripped the closet doors open and found most of your clothes were gone. He ran into the bathroom; your toiletries were gone. Almost all your belongings were gone.

“No, no, no, no, nO, NO, NO!”

Where could you have gone? He never in a million dreams imagined you would ever leave him. You belonged to him. You were his everything. Everything he did, he did it for you, he did it to keep you safe from the disgusting world. Pure rage began to flow through him as he stalked back into the kitchen. Unsheathing his knife, he stabbed it into the center of the small dining table before he used both hands to flip it, letting out a primal growl as he did so. 

“That fucking ungrateful bitch!” he growls before walking over to the overturned table to retrieve his knife. 

“I loved you, took care of you, protected you… and this is the thanks I get…”

He pulls out his cellphone, dialing your number and putting the phone to his ear.

“We’re sorry, the number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time. Please check the number and try again.”

Taking a deep breath, he then attempts to send a text to the number.

We’re sorry, the number you have entered is not valid.

Breathing heavily, he puts his phone back in his pocket, balling both his fists and closing his cobalt eyes. He stood there for a moment, seething when he suddenly appeared to have a revelation. His eyes snap back open and he digs his phone back out from his pocket and opens an app. A smile slowly overcomes him as stares down at the phone like he was staring down at a long lost lover.

“There you are. Don’t worry baby girl. Daddy’s coming to get you.”

Part 2

[pigeonp0st]

Lena Luthor x Reader #3

Summary: Lena breaks up with Reader to keep her safe from Lex. Reader hatches a plan to get rid of him that goes terribly wrong, and naturally, torture follows. This mostly takes place after she’s found again.

Warnings:

Angst,torture, depression, trauma, childhood trauma

Notes:

Hey! I’m going about writing differently now. Everything I write from here on out will most likely be straight from the tumblr drafts and fairly quick. Something I decide to do in a random sitting (unless it’s paid for). Fair warning that this isn’t that, this is just something I worked on ages ago and didn’t publish. I did NO SPELLING CHECKS and remember writing at 2am, so warning number 2

———————

Lena loathed the DEO in that moment. She loathed Alex, and she loathed Supergirl , and she loathed every damn agent in the building so that she didn’t have to loathe herself instead. It’s not enough, there was still a small part of her that she couldn’t ignore, a part of her that screamed; ‘you should have held on. You should have been there’

She knows she should have been there. She knows she failed you before anyone else did. She knows. But she’s trying now and she doesn’t know how to get it to matter to the world. Trying won’t save you, and trying hasn’t led you back to her.

Trying has only led you there, far from Lena, laying somewhere unknown with a body and a heart too worn. Though, Lena imagines, that’s probably not a new feeling for you. She trembles with the image of Lex mocking her on video, holding a gun to your head, she trembles and thinks, I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.

Then, miraculously;

“Found her!” Winn shouts loudly, raising his Supergirl action figure in victory, and Lena, CEO, multibillionaire, crumbles in relief in front of dozens of agents in the middle of the DEO.

—-

When you wake up Lena feels her heart stop.

She wanted to kiss you, hold you. She wanted to be the type of person that stayed. She wanted to be the type of person worth staying for.

She wanted to believe the both of you would be okay, and she wanted to hold your face and tell you that. That you’d be okay. She wanted more than anything in that moment to be the type of person that said the right thing. That did the right thing.

She wasn’t. She wasn’t any of the people she wanted to be. Your eyes met hers, full of sorrow, and human and hurt, and she wasn’t. She wasn’t because she was scared, and because she was human also. She wasn’t—so she leaves.

Now, as she’s gripping herself in the hallways of the DEO, struggling against the weight of what feels like worlds on her shoudlers, choking on breaths that should have been being shared with you, she’s filled with so much self contempt it could fuel the whole government. Whoever said that “It’s better to have loved and loss, than to have never loved at all”, has never met the two of you and has never loved this desperately.

Loving you made her feel just as much as losing you had, and is it worth it? Maybe, but It’s certainly not better to be feeling this than not ever feeling it. Can’t those things coexist? Can’t it be better for her to never love, but can’t loving also be a choice she’d make despite all the pain?

Can’t you love the things that will destroy us in the end? Doesn’t she always?

She should go back in. She should go back in and ask for forgiveness, but the fear of ruining things further, of the both of you hurting each other further, prevents her from trying to fix things.

When she broke up with you she had just wanted to protect you from Lex. Losing you like that would have nothing compared to—

Lena shivers, shakes her head, and clutches onto herself more tightly with trembling fingers.

“You’re hyperventilating,” Alex says from where she’s leaning against the wall beside Lena. Her eyes are watchful, careful, but Lena feels them like daggers.

She straightens, forces out a; “wow, you really are an amazing analyzer, detective,” and nearly gets a smirk for her troubles—but Alex is too soft, too caring to give her that. She moves towards her, ever the big sister, but Supergirl rushes in first.

“Lena,” Supergirl—Kara, Kara, Lena thinks, and often starts to forget, except when Kara looks at her like this—breathes out.

Lena steps back from them both, the humanity in the room tears her apart, reminds her of her lack of, and destroys her. “You have to…to warn people when you do that…super speed thing,” Lena grits out, cutting Kara off before she can even begin to try and be…be good. She gestures towards the room with shaky hands and begins to try and compose herself lHow long was she awake while I was asleep?”

Kara and Alex look at each other. Say nothing. “Guys—”

“She woke up two hours ago,” Alex says, at the same time Kara says; “you were wiped out—didn’t even hear the nurses, of course we couldn’t just wake you up”

Two hours, and she was asleep. Lena goes cold instantly. She remembers hearing Lex had you, remembers it like one remembers the worst moment of their life; both intimately and not at all. She remembers hearing Supergirl had you—that you were breathing , but people only say that when someone is very not okay, and Lena remembers the way adrenaline had rushed through her. She had felt both alive and utterly useless through it, and it sticks to her even now.

Alive, but asleep, never the person she needs to be to protect you. How alone have you felt because of her? How scared?

“Lena,” Kara starts again, “Lena, she wanted you to sleep— ”

“Go in there,” Alex cuts her off, gets a very annoyed look for it, because they both can’t seem to help cutting each other off today. “You want to show her she’s not alone, that she’s safe? I promise you that the only way she’ll feel that is with you there.”

Kara nods, suddenly straightening and transforming into Supergirl just like that, just in the stance. “Hero complexes will serve nothing except separation and loneliness. You taught me that. Stronger together, Lena.”

Wanting to save you had left you alone, and yes, alone to Lena meant away from Lex, but he’s not the only scary thing in this world, and she should have known that he’d never forget how to destroy her. To leave you alone, Lena thinks, was the worst thing she could have done.

While you were away Lena had to confront herself. Had to realize that so far, every good thing in her life has come with a cost, has led to ruin, and the threat of Lex…it had just seemed to her like the time had come. Like it was her only option. To sacrifice, to sacrifice and hurt.

If Lex had won by separating the two of you, then he had one like that. In her mind, Lena had already been destroyed, of course she imagined that to be the end of it, that he wouldn’t touch you. She’d rather hurt by pushing you away than you dying. Even the thought—

God, she’s so tired of being a coward. To being so scared of losing you that she’s willing to destroy you both.

Kara and Alex hating what she’s done in the unspoken way that they do hurts even more in a way Lena’s used to, because it hurts like regret. Their stances have turned from concerned and loving, to protective heroes. She should have never left you alone. Not when she was scared of Lex, and not now. She gives both Kara and Alex a firm nod and tries to walk past to get into the room. To make things right.

Kara stops her with a hand on her shoulder. She drops it instantly when Lena turns towards her. Ever the fragile hero, always afraid of her own hands for the strength they hold. “Before that…” Kara coughs awkwardly, “Um…we need you to understand her injuries…and what happened.”

—-

When Lena walks into the room, it’s not like you thought she would. She’s not the fragile human curled up in a chair, or the terrified women fleeing your medical room. She’s angry with rage and a whirlwind of feelings, caught in a tornado of emotion. She’s large in the way she’s always been, and yet it has never left you feeling so small.

You sink back into your hospital bed, pull the covers to your chin, and watch her.

“You went after him?” Lena hisses out, so lowly, so sharply, that she might as well have cut the words into your skin for the way that it dig into you. “Everything I’ve ever done is to protect you, and you just decided to throw it all away like it means nothing? Do you have any idea—”

“You were protecting yourself!”

Lena stops. She was pacing, shaking with emotion, but she stops dead in her tracks at the sound of your voice. You yell it, and yet it’s still somehow silent. Your throat is ruined, a testament to the cruelty of Lex, and the evidence of that and more is written on your skin. You’re covered in injuries. Your brokenness has never been more visible, you think, and it should leave you feeling fragile, and it does, god it does, but right now it gives you power.

Power over Lena, who looks at you like her life hangs in the palm of her hand.

“You think I’m stupid, that I don’t know that every fiber of your being is laced with fear?” You whisper now, hand on your throbbing throat. “You left me for you, and I went after Lex for me.” Its venom. Venom, and anger, and all of the thing you know Lena takes In stride. The thing she strives on.

It hangs in the air for a second. Then Lena, beautiful Lena, kneels by the side of your bed. CEO, one of the most powerful people in this city; on her knees for you. She doesn’t look invigorated, doesn’t looked fueled by anger, just looks sad with regrets.

“I did it for me,” Lena agrees, so soft, so not like them; not like her family. “I did it for you, too. Of course I did it for you, and maybe it was a terrible thing to do—led by my trauma talking to me—but don’t lay there and deny I wasn’t thinking of you,” she breathes, then pauses, eyes tracing your busted lips, bruised face, bruised neck. Her jaw trembles and her lips part, she looks as if she wants to say more, but her eyes are haunted by the home she grew up in.

As if reading your mind Lena whispers, “they haunt me. It’s as if I can never let go. I’m so sick of it. I’m so sick of it.” She closes her eyes with furrowed brows, as if not looking at you will prevent the shake in her voice. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. For them. For them now, for them back then, and for them in the future—if you still want to be in my life, you have to know I can’t escape them. Even when they’re not there they’re there. It…god, it makes me sick.”

When Lena raises her hands and grips herself, digging her fingers into her skin like she wants to pull the trauma and memories out of herself, like she wants to get rid of them, something in you breaks. Breaks because your arms are raw and aching, and it wasn’t Lex. Breaks because you know so intimately what it’s like to face reality and find it so frustratingly unchangeable. To want so much, and for it to mean nothing is the most devastating thing.

To be so large, and so small.

You’ve been crying, and Lena doesn’t notices until a sob falls from your lips. You’ve been trying to hold it in, but when she startles up at it and looks at you with that same wanting, like you’re her heart walking and she’d give anything to take your hurt, the sobs break through like a dam. They break through and it hurts because there is no part of you left unbroken.

When you sob it disturbs your broken ribs, disturbs the bruises covering your torso, rips at your tarnished vocal cords, and has the machines in the room beeping so loud it alerts the nurses.

—-

Lena doesn’t even have time to stand before the nurses rush in and pull the blanket off of you. There’s no words to describe the shift that happens in side of her when she sees the extent of your injuries.

It’s like something both breaks and rebuilds in her, and then breaks again, paralyzing her. Then, she sees a nurse heading towards you with a syringe and it activates her.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Lena says, or thinks she says. She can’t recognize the venom in her voice, doesn’t feel apart of her body.

She’s moving in between the nurse and you, but your sobs begin to bring her back to reality.

“She needs to be put under, she’s hurting herself—”

Lena doesn’t pay attention to her, just sees Alex and Supergirl enter the room. Sees the way Alex shakes her head and nods to the corner of the room, and follows in suit while every fiber of her being says to do otherwise.

It kills her that she can’t protect you. Can’t protect you from the nurses that you try to pull away from, can’t protect you from the hurt on your skin, or in your heart, couldn’t protect you from— she thinks of Lex. Lex when he was her big, smart older brother that she admired more than anyone in the world.

She thinks of the way he’d give her a cheeky roll of his eyes behind Lillian’s back after a small verbal lashing. Thinks of every chess game, every hide n seek game, every reassuring grin. You’re smarter than they know Lena, he’d say, and she’d beam, not noticing the progressive darkness in his eyes as he said it.

Her eyes don’t leave you as the nurses put you down again. She thinks; I’ll kill him. In her peripheral she knows Kara is watching the floor, and feels Alex watching her. When the nurses cover you back up and they both turn towards you, Lena knows it was out of respect for you. She’s grateful for it—somewhere in her thunder of emotions she’s thankful for them, but also feels a bit of anger towards them.

This is why they kept her from seeing you when you were brought in?

“Why doesn’t she have a hospital gown?” Lena asks in a whisper.

“She took it off, said it hurt when the nurses moved it, and that it was sticking to her. Constricting her,” Kara explains, she sighs, shakes her head, and then turns towards Lena as Supergirl. With a fire in her eyes.

The same one in Lena as she allows herself to ask the very question she wanted to run from hours ago. “Where’s Lex?”

“No.” It’s both Supergirl and Alex.

“Alive then? Okay,” Lena starts towards the door. “If you’re here, he’s here. I’ll find him easily enough.”

Supergirl, familiarly, stands in her ways. Eyes sympathetic next to Alex’s hardness. “Where are you when you’re with them?” Alex asks from behind her. When you let them guide every bad decision you make, she hears.

Lena stops. Thinks about control, about gods, about leaving you to wake up alone again, thinks about murder, both in her blood and not, thinks about Lex with a gun to your head, with fists, and kicks, and a maniac smile, thinks about her dad in the same way—standing over Lex while Lillian gripped Lena back. She thinks of cycles, thinks of protection and all the ways it’s possible, all the ways she’s capable, more capable then him.

Smarter, Lena remembers Lillian saying casually. Always smarter than.

Better than, Kara will say.

The good one, Alex will joke.

My hero, you’d grin. Lena feels herself split. Starts forward again.

Kara whispers now, “Heroes don’t kill, Lena.”

Alex, “it’s both the best and most terrible thing about us.”

Us.

Lena wants to yell, wants to crumble, wants to curl by your side, wants to kill Lex with her bare hands, wants to erase the Luthor history from her mind, from her body, wants to erase it from yours even more. Wants it so desperately, so acutely it hurts. Sadness fills the room, suffocates them all.

Kara is watching you again, Alex keeps glancing back, they’re both unconcerned about Lena now. Full faith in her to be who they claim she is. Lena returns to the seat by your bed and allows herself to be that person.

“Whatever cell he’s in, I’m building it,” Lena whispers, thinking of the cuffs she’ll put on him, wondering if she can somehow slow down his mind.

Alex nods, running her hands down her face. The past couple hours have completely exhausted her in a way Lena’s not used to seeing from her. Alex cares so much about you, and it shouldn’t surprise Lena but It does. “We’re thinking about sending him to the phantom zone.”

Here, Lena is more surprised. They must know that’s a death sentence. Lena glances at Supergirl, she’s still watching you but she’s clearly listening, her eyes have turned hard. They aren’t underestimating Lex. They clearly know the responsibility that’ll bear on them if he escapes again.

Lena feels another bought of gratitude towards them as she takes your hand, and trusts them to handle the person she trusts no one to handle.

——

When you wake up the second time it’s because nurses are dapping you with wet cloths, clearly trying to clean you. They apologize profusely, say they thought the drugs would keep you down longer, and offer to finish the cleaning after you’ve gotten more pain killers.

Your eyes dart around rapidly, chest constricting in anxiety, and then you see Lena. She’s standing by the door, clearly trying to keep out of the nurses way. She’s not full of rage and untouchable in that way, and she’s not fragile, she’s strong.

Her eyes are hard, but not cold. They’re determined, and loving, and they’re your strength too. You suck in a shaky breath, whisper; “thank you. Later might be an option”, as you try to focus on Lena and not the thought of the nurses hands on you turning into Lex’s violent ones.

When they all shuffle out Lena quietly returns to the spot by your bed. This Lena somehow makes you feel more fragile than angry, furious Lena had, because in the place of your defensiveness you’re left to feel your guilt.

“I’m…I’m not weak, Lena.” It feels stupid to claim now as you lay in a hospital bed feeling nothing but. You clench your jaw. Lena’s hand reaches up and takes your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. She’s not gentle, certainly not rough, but her firmness gives you the power to continue. She’s the stable ground that helps you find your footing.

You find it. Meet her gaze unblinking. “I’m not Supergirl, I’m not you, I’m not Alex, or Jon, or Winn, or James, or Kelly, or— or Lex…I’m not capable in the particular ways you guys are, but I am capable.”

Lena’s eyes fall to your throat. You grip her wrist, the one holding your face, and her eyes meet yours apologetically. “I know,” she says, so softly, so quietly. “You being here is the evidence of it, isn’t it?”

You nod, but you aren’t done. “I’m not sure what Supergirl told you. Clearly she told you I went after Lex, and in a way that’s true, but more so I wanted him to come after me,” you pause. Lena is watching you with furrowed eyes, clearly trying to piece together what you’re explaining before you finish.

Her lips part after just another moment. She’s figured it out you realize, feeling a bit of pride because of it. Pride because she has faith in you, pride because she‘s so incredibly quick and you have had the privilege to know her so acutely. “All of this…was your plan?” Lena asks, sounding both shocked and not.

You wince, brushing aside her hand so you can look down, adverting your gaze. “Well…not all of it.” Memories flash through your mind. “I thought he’d keep me captive, not…” you left out a frustrated breath, angry, so angry at yourself for not being able to speak about it. Speak about him.

“It was a game to him, of course. He’d torture me, send you a video to torture you. He’d get you chasing him. He’s always liked the thrill.” Your eyes stay on Lena’s fists. Watch as they clench so tightly to her side that they shake. “I knew he loved messing with you, and was partly counting on it, not like that but— but maybe just having me wouldn’t have been enough, maybe it was good he did what he did—got so high off of it his guard lowered.”

“Don’t say that,” Lena pleads. You startle up at the sound of her trembling voice doing everything not to cry.

You breathe in; your ribs hurt. You breathe out; they hurt again. Lena shakes her head at herself, frustrated and biting her lip. She’s having a battle with composure and losing.

“Kara told me how you stole his nanotech and used it to immobilize him. That the tech that was missing from my lab last week was found with the stuff he confiscated from you. That you hacked his computer with my prototype to send her the location to his headquarters underground,” Lena rushes out, “I didn’t know you planned to get taken to his HQ, to steal his nanotech, didn’t know that anyone besides me and the DEO knew what he was working on.”

It’s a quick summary of the things you’ve done, leaving out the weeks of planning, leaving out the struggles of actually setting the plan in motion when the shifting variables shifted in a way you weren’t prepared for. It should leave you proud, but when you think of what you managed all you remember is pain and struggle.

“You stopped Lex like you planned. So many people are saved because of you. An unfathomable amount, and yet,”she says. And yet, you think, heart fluttering because you know Lena will say the very thought that kills you to think of, but the thought that can’t escape you anyways. “What…what you did was monumental, and thank you, but god, I so wish you hadn’t,” Lena breathes. “He gone, and yet he has never been so present. Perhaps you felt the effects of him through me before, but you know now what it’s like to have him really present, always right over your shoulder, and that…I would’ve given the world for otherwise.”

It’s exactly the same thoughts you have had. To hear it from Lena, someone you admire and trust so much, someone you believe to be good with every piece of you, someone you’d follow everywhere—it’s like a medicine for guilt.

“What I said before…about doing what I did for me,” Lena shakes her head, ever understanding, like she doesn’t need you to finish. You do though. “I did it for me because I wanted desperately for you to still be mine, and getting rid of Lex was the avenue for that,” you admit. “I didn’t want him to plague you anymore either.”

You hesitate. Memories of Lena pacing at night—startling awake, watching the news with the grimness of someone attending a funeral—memories of Lena’s affectedness come to you. Her humaneness at hearing Lex escaped again, and in her humanity in her vulnerability.

“I want to take responsibility, so I don’t want to say I did it for you, but what you said earlier made me realize everything is a bit of both. I did it for me, I did it for you too.”

Lena laughs. Laughs. It shocks you, causes you to jump and stop looking at your hand, causes you to meet her gaze again. “Ow,” you growl, unamused, because Lena is still laughing. She’s covering her face and has the decency to look apologetic.

Your ribs hurt from the startle but even you can’t help but be confusedly amused.

“I want to hate,” Lena starts, mirth in her voice, “that you did the thing I wanted you to do least in the world, and you got exactly what you wanted out of it. You captured lex, and in a way captured me back too.”

“Oh,” you perk up, smiling up at Lena innocently. “Guess I’m the brains now, brawn.”

Lena’s eyes narrow at you. “That insinuates that you were ever the brawn.”

Back to glaring. Lena lets out another huff of laughter and brushes your hair back, away from a cut on your forehead. Her eyes are so soft, so full of warmth, and love that you could cry. Would cry, perhaps, if it wouldn’t hurt every part of your body.

Instead you grin, because that’s what humans are taught to do instead of cry, and ask, gently—feeling like a shaky child; “does that mean you’re my girlfriend again?”

—-

Lena’s eyes widen as she realizes what she implied, and as you own up to it so hesitantly, so childlike, like Lena could ever think of pushing you away after everything. Her words, not for the first time today, betray her. All she can do is nod.

Your responding grin is heroin to Lena. You smile so wide the cut on your lip breaks open again and starts bleeding, but you pay it no mind. Lena does. She smiles back, albeit more gently, and squishes your cheeks together to prevent the split widening.

You pout in her hands. Lena’s heart flutters. She keeps getting hit randomly with momentous emotion, and she’s hit again with it now. The softness of this moment feels like seeing a rainbow after months of storms.

You here, alive, looking at Lena with so much love in your eyes, so much understanding. It feels like a fantasy. Feels like a lucid dream, a dream she’d choose, over, and over again, until the end of time.

Lena leans in and kisses you—not on the lips, they are cut and bruised. She kisses you on the space just below your eye. A spot, one of the few spots, clear of visible injury. She takes pleasure in the way you flush like it’s the first time. She always did, will always do. “I love you,” Lena whispers, promising herself that even if there are days you won’t believe her, there will never be a day you don’t hear it.

It’s you, and it’s her, and it’s the mountains of history and trauma you two are fighting against. Lena likes the both of your odds. Loves winning just as much.

You’ll beat Lex she knows. There will be a day soon where he stops haunting the two of you. Where he’s not even a thought. When that time comes you’ll have won the war, but for now she’ll take the pride of winning every battle in stride, for now, in the now; she’ll cherish every moment, the many moments, when trauma leaves the room and love consumes it.

“Lena Luthor,” you breathe. You breathe. “My love, my hero.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Do Something!

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader (works an LAPD desk job)

Summary: 20-David is tired of watching you and Street pretend not to be in love with each other, too oblivious to realize your feelings are reciprocated. When you distance yourself from Street, they have to encourage him to do something.

Warnings: brief angst, vague mentions of insecurity, fluff, comfort at the end

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

When you transferred to work a desk job in LAPD SWAT, mostly comprised of completing paperwork and applying for grants and government funding, you were warned of several things. Those warnings, focused on the officers' high-pressure lifestyles and gruff exteriors, did not mention how easy it would be to fall for one of them.

The moment you met Jim Street, he captured your entire attention. Several months into your new job, you have fallen in love with him. He is a SWAT officer, incredibly handsome, and absolutely out of your league. So, you’ve decided to watch him from a distance, do what you can to help him, and hope your feelings pass like a high school crush. Unfortunately, falling in love with someone isn’t as easy to move on from.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hondo,” Hicks calls from his office doorway. “We need two accounts of yesterday’s raid for the paperwork. They’re waiting for it.”

“I’ll go,” Street volunteers.

“You want to do paperwork?” Hicks asks.

“No, he wants to see the girl who submits it,” Luca answers. “He’s in love with her but won’t admit it.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Street argues.

“Which part?”

“Uh, the love part. I don’t even know her.”

“Street, kid, you don’t have to know someone to fall for them,” Deacon says, patting Street’s shoulder. “But I’ll give the other account and then get out of your way.”

“Hey, try to pick up some courage on the way!” Luca calls after Street.

“You could always just tell her you like her, ask her out, send her a letter, whatever you do,” Deacon reminds Street.

“She doesn’t feel the same,” Street laments.

Deacon shakes his head, wondering what he did to have to deal with not one but two oblivious idiots who are in love with each other but won’t admit it.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hi, Sergeant Kay, Officer Street,” you greet. “This should be quick.”

Deacon knows the drill, and you type while he tells you what happened. When he concludes, you print it and pass it to him for proofreading and his signature. Carrying through on his promise to Street, Deacon leaves as soon as he’s done, praying that something happens while you’re alone in the office.

“Alright, your turn, Officer Street.”

“You can just call me Street,” he offers.

“Okay, Street. Just start talking whenever you’re ready. Tell me everything you remember.”

As you did with Deacon, you type quickly, keeping your eyes on the screen so you don’t get distracted by Street sitting across the desk. After you print the report, you sit back and watch him read it. You must avoid daydreaming, and luckily, Jim passes the paper back to you before you can begin.

“Thank you,” you say, inhaling deeply when your fingers brush his.

“Need anything else from me?”

Everything, you think, yet you say, “That’s it for now. Thank you for coming so quickly. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to return the favor.”

Street pauses as he stands, and for a moment, you have a glimmer of hope that something will happen, but then he says, “Thanks,” and walks out of the door.

Sighing, you slouch in your chair and take a few breaths before returning to your duties.

✯✯✯✯✯

Street and Luca are sparring, and Luca barely misses Street’s face when he suddenly drops the punching pad.

“Whoa, dude, what the heck was that?” Luca exclaims.

Street is looking over his shoulder, so Luca turns quickly, shaking his head when he sees what made Street speechless and immobile. You’re standing with Hicks, dressed in one of your nicest outfits. Street overheard you mention something about a proposal meeting, but he didn’t consider how beautiful you would look for it. Granted, he thinks you’re always beautiful, but his mind wanders to how you’d look on a date with him, and he distantly acknowledges that he is a goner.

“Are you going to stand there and drool over her or do something?” Luca asks.

“What?” Street asks, snapping his mouth closed as he turns to Luca.

“Just ask her out, man, she clearly-“

“Is out of my league. I’m not going to ruin the little bit of friendship we have.”

“So you finally admit you like her.”

“No. I just see her a lot, I guess.”

“You guess,” Luca repeats sarcastically. “You’re an idiot, Streeter.”

Street doesn’t argue, and Luca considers actually punching him in the head to knock some sense into him.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you return from the proposal, you are in a great mood because the private investors love your ideas and feel empowered to do something bold. As soon as you enter SWAT HQ, you begin looking for Street. The worst case scenario is he says no and never wants to see you again, which would be terrible, but you’re hoping for the best: a yes.

Hearing Street’s voice outside the situation room, you smile and round the last corner. Street is talking to Molly Hicks, though, and you freeze, letting your smile fall. Street laughs at something she said, her voice quiet enough that you can’t hear. As Street reaches up to grasp her forearm while he replies in a whisper, you realize that you misread everything you thought was a signal.

Rushing to your office, you close the door and lay your head on your desk. You thought Street liked you, too, and that’s why he was a little awkward and different around you. But, no, he chose Molly. And why wouldn’t he? She’s probably better for him than you ever could be.

Your computer chimes with an incoming email, and you brush your hands over your forehead and the top of your hair before burying yourself in paperwork. On any other day, you would procrastinate finishing the more involved forms. Today, you blow through them quickly, desperate to keep your mind off Street and maintain the distance you’ve put between you. If he likes Molly, who are you to get in the way of that?

✯✯✯✯✯

“Molly, Street, to what do I owe this… pleasure-adjacent incident?” Hicks asks.

“Dad,” Molly chides.

“Sorry. What do you want? And, Street, if you tell me you’re dating my daughter-“

“Oh, no, sir,” Street interjects. “We tried once and… we’re good.”

Hicks raises his hands in a request for someone to tell him what’s going on.

“Fine, I’ll ask,” Molly says. “Can SWAT officers date other LAPD employees?”

“Depends on the person, their departments, histories.” He looks over to Street to add, “For example, a SWAT officer and a, let’s say, grant writer and secretarial employee, would be able to have a relationship. The officer just may have to give action reports to a different employee to complete the paperwork without bias.”

“Oddly specific example,” Street jokes. “But I still think this is a terrible idea.”

Molly rolls her eyes. “Jim here thinks that his feelings aren’t reciprocated.”

“You’re kidding me, right? I didn’t think you were this oblivious.”

“Rude, sir,” Street argues.

“I called him an idiot,” Molly adds.

“Yeah, that fits, too,” Hicks agrees.

“This isn’t really helping my confidence level, guys.”

“I’m sure your ego can take it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You usually leave around the same time as Street, but after waiting for five minutes and seeing no sign of you, Street walks out alone. Inside your office, you’re putting the finishing touches on a report, glad to work a few minutes longer to avoid Street. He may not talk to you much outside of work, but he’s incredibly perceptive and would probably catch on and ask what’s wrong.

Truthfully, you want to move on from Street, want him to be happy no matter who he is with, but you refuse to let him go, though you never really had him. 

Street’s motorcycle is gone when you exit, and you sigh, realizing it will be a long few weeks of avoiding him while your heart heals. If your heart heals.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking toward your office, you turn when you see Street. It’s been three days since you last saw him, more than that since you talked, but seeing him still makes you feel something. Not only the heartbreak of knowing he chose Molly but the initial happiness stemming from the joy of falling in love with him.

Luca walks by, stopping and taking a few steps backward as he realizes you’re hiding in a doorway. He sees Street down the hall and pieces everything together.

“What’d he do?” Luca asks.

“What did who do?” you reply.

“Street.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s like dealing with middle schoolers,” Luca huffs as he walks away.

When you peek around the corner, Street is gone, and you rush to your office and close the door behind you.

✯✯✯✯✯

The path to Hicks’ office goes straight past the man you’re trying to avoid, but you have time-sensitive documents to deliver. Steeling your nerves and straightening your shoulders, you walk straight to Hicks’ office without looking for anyone in particular.

After you enter the office, Street watches the door. Hondo asks a question, but Street can only focus on you and why he can’t seem to spend any time with you recently, never seeing you for more than a few seconds at a time.

“Street!” Hondo yells, finally getting his attention.

The office door opens, and Street immediately looks away again.

“Oh my- Street, just do something!” Luca exclaims, pushing him forward. 

“Like what? She clearly doesn’t like me! She won’t even look at me! You want me to tell her I love her when the most time I’ve ever spent with her alone was to finish paperwork! That’ll go well, Luca, thanks so much for the great advice.”

You clear your throat behind Street, and when he looks at you, you gesture toward your office. Street follows wordlessly, assuming this is the beginning of being let down slowly. You, however, are doing everything you can to hide your smile. It sounded like he was talking about you, and that’s all the hope you need to put yourself out of your misery. A bad answer is still an answer, and right now, closure sounds better than another sleepless night wondering why you’re not good enough.

✯✯✯✯✯

“So,” Street begins, leaning against your desk.

“Were you talking about me?” you ask, getting straight to the point. “Let’s stop dancing around whatever this is between us, okay?”

“Yeah, I was talking about you,” he confesses. “I’ve had feelings for you for a while, but I thought you didn’t feel the same.”

“What kind of feelings?”

“I- I think I’m falling in love with you. I’ve never felt this before, but I like it.”

“What about Molly? I saw you laughing with her, and-“

“Have you been avoiding me because of that?” Street interjects, realizing that the morning before he talked to Molly was the last time he saw you.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Because you looked happy, and I didn’t- I couldn’t deal with losing you if I was still seeing you.”

“Losing me?”

“I assumed you were with Molly. You said you thought you were falling for me, but I know that I am in love with you. Seeing you happy with someone else while I was too scared to tell you how I feel hurt.”

“Molly was telling me that I was stupid for not telling you,” Street explains, his usual personality beginning to shine through the awkward nervousness.

“Now what?”

“Hicks said we be in a relationship.” You furrow your brows, and Jim clarifies, “It’s not against the rules for us to date, I just have to finds someone else to do my paperwork.”

“Do you want to be in a relationship with me?”

Street notices a shadow hovering outside the door before another joins. He motions for you to be play along, taking your hand as he answers, “No, that’s not what I want.”

You follow his eyes, smiling when you realize someone is listening in.

“Okay,” you answer sadly, interlacing your fingers with his. “Then why’d you say all that?”

“I was confused. We’re- we’re never going to work as more than friends.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What is happening?” Luca asks.

“This can’t be right,” Hicks answers. “They’ve both been acting like different people and now they’re not going to do anything?”

Hondo moves against the door and can’t stop it before it opens, and Luca topples inside. When he looks up, Street is sitting on your desk, and you’re standing between his legs, his arms around your waist, and your hands pushed in his hair.

“Did you pretend to break up and then start making out?” Luca asks, rolling his shoulder as he stands. “That’s messed up, man.”

“So is eavesdropping,” Street deadpans.

“No more longing looks or hiding in hallways?” Hondo asks. “You’re all good?”

“Better than good,” you answer, smiling at Street.

“Bye,” Street adds, his attention back on you. “Close the door and get away from it on your way out.”

Luca wants to ask for more information about why you hid from Street, having missed the part about Molly, but decides to ask later when he sees you leaning in again.

After the door closes, you hear Hicks inquire, “Did we make a mistake?”

“A big one. They’re going to be inseparable and intolerable,” Hondo answers.

“I think they’re pretty cute together,” Luca says.

“Me too,” Street mumbles against your lips, holding you close so you don’t slip away again.

This moment and the idea of a future being happy with Street is worth everything, you decide. The sadness and long nights have made room for a love you didn’t know existed.

“Still think you’re falling for me?” you tease.

“I may need more information before I update my claim,” Street replies, smiling lazily as he cups the back of your neck to bring you in again.

[quietwingsinthesky]

in a good version of this season i feel like the one-two punch of kerblam! and the witchfinders could have been used to give the doctor a moment of growth. she has, so far, put aside her usual impulse to Break Shit in exchange for passively preserving systems as are, because her experience with trying to change missy killed her.

(importantly, this was a much smaller change then. say. blowing shit up. or destabilizing a government. but it was also much more personal, something she had an extreme investment in emotionally, and something that got her and her friend killed. the doctor makes irrational, emotional decisions and justifies them later with big speeches. that’s what she does. and her turn to being as passive as she can stand to be as thirteen is an irrational decision she’s making to try and protect herself from being hurt, to protect the people and planet she’s designated as her charge from being hurt. she can dress it up in the framing of not wanting to tamper with history, but what she’s not saying is she doesn’t want to risk breaking things, knowing that it might come back worse.)

and that’s fine. that’s a good route to take the doctor post-twelve. but kerblam! and the witchfinders are the perfect episodes to challenge her stance. because in, say, rosa, in the demons of punjab, even in ghost monument, she’s not gonna have to stay here. she doesn’t have to live in the systems she observes and leaves be. (obviously, doylist, we can’t have the doctor Solve Racism™️. but we can contrast her lack of action against those of the people who do have to live in the systems, who are risking everything and will suffer for it and still know that change is worth it.)

the start of kerblam! has them going in as workers. undercover. in the system. this is a mask the doctor can easily throw off when convenient for her. but she’s standing next to ryan, who couldn’t, not at his factory job. who nearly lost said job because the system he was in would have decided his disability made him a liability. who only kept it because of solidarity with his fellow workers. the doctor is In the system, but only for. day and only as long as she wants to be. at the end, she can still leave. in a better episode, they might have been able to use this to set up her realizing, hey, shit, the fact that i don’t Have to change things is a privilege i have from not having to survive under these systems. unfortunately. this is kerblam!

but the witchfinders doubles down on that! she can’t stand by and watch a woman be killed while her granddaughter cries! but her hesitation to act means that she dies anyway! the doctor asserts herself as an authority in the system to get access to information and power to prevent this happening again, and it looks at her, looks at the body she’s in and the face she’s wearing, and says No. says If you won’t submit to what we say about you, you will die. If you submit to what we say about you, you will die. This is the world, accept it. For the first time this season, the Doctor is chained to something she hesitated to change. She’s not watching anymore. She’s learning what it is to be drowned while everyone looks on and says nothing. Lets it happen. Because this is how it is. And the system isn’t the problem.

Like she’s been doing.

So! Conclusion! fuck if i know yet if they’ll uh. Do Anything With This Set-Up. but god it is so ripe to, if not change her ways, give some ample arguments that’ll make it harder for her to just walk away from the next space amazon facility, you know?

[ghostofskywalker]

On a Warpath

Harley Quinn/Reader

Fictober Day 18 of 31

Words: 811

Summary: In an attempt to find out when your girlfriend would be back from her latest mission, it becomes apparent that you're a lot more like her than you thought you were.

Harley Quinn Masterlist

You walked with purpose, a look on your face that gave off one very specific message: do not fuck with me. Having just gone through a rather tiring and intense twenty four hours prior, the last thing that anyone wanted to do (if they knew what was good for them) was piss you off.

And right now, you were aiming that anger and annoyance at the government, or more specifically, the army. To get even more specific, you fully planned on taking your fury out on the people who had sent your girlfriend off on an extra-dangerous mission and then decided not to tell you about it.

You understood that the government still viewed her as a criminal and that the assignments she went on were often of the utmost secrecy, but you worked in the same building as Amanda Waller and Rick Flag, and you thought that some of that secrecy was a little much. You had just as much combat training as half the men on this base, and just because you worked in the administrative side of things didn’t mean you should be kept in the dark.

Rick Flag’s office was closer, so you stepped in there first. He was sitting at his desk, doing something on his computer. Recently he’d taken a different role in the jobs and missions that these unorthodox teams went on, and that meant that he knew more than he used to, and didn’t usually have to risk his life as much. “Where’s the jet?” you asked as you stepped through the door, not even bothering with any kind of pleasantry.

“Look, we really can’t say anything about-” he started to say, as if he knew that eventually you would be in here sniffing around for information.

“Save the corporate bullshit,” you said, cutting him off. “I was told they would be back last night, and they’re not. What happened?”

“There were some complications-”

“Rick, come on. You know I won’t go around saying anything.”

He sighed. “I know, but-”

Okay, now you were getting annoyed. “Listen-”

“Y/N-”

At this point you had reached the end of your patience, and you decided to communicate in a manner that you knew he would understand. You pulled your gun from its holster and trained it at him. He looked shocked, but he really shouldn’t have been. Your girlfriend was missing, and you would go just as crazy for her as she would for you. “Are you listening?” you asked, all of the worry and fear for your partner was coming out (albeit in a way that was much more violent than usual).

He had recovered from the initial shock of having a gun pointed at him in his office, and sighed before responding. “I’m listening, I promise,” he said. “And I wish that things were different, but I can’t say anything.”

“I just want to make sure Harley’s alright,” you said. “I don’t need an exact location, but I just need to know that she’s still alive.”

There was a silence that settled over the space, and eventually Flag nodded. “We received a communication from the team a little while ago. There’s still more they have to do, but it sounded like they were almost done. According to the computer, Harley’s neck chip is still active. But I’m not the head communication for this team, so that’s all I know.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that she had at least made it this far. “Thank you for telling me,” you said, putting your gun away and turning to leave. “I’m sorry I threatened you.”

Flag just laughed. “You’re more like her than you realize, you know that?”

***

Your eyes were just beginning to close later that night when you heard a small shuffling noise and then the door to your room opened. “I’m hoooooooome!” The very recognizable voice of your girlfriend filled the room, and you smiled as she flipped the lights on.

the next thing you knew, you had gotten out of bed and wrapped her in a hug, despite the fact that she was covered in dirt (and what you knew was probably blood). “I’m glad you’re okay,” you said leaning in to kiss her.

“I heard you threatened Flag with a gun!”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “He told you?”

She just laughed. “Yeah, and I couldn’t be more proud of you! I’ll have you robbing banks with me in no time!”

Now it was your turn to laugh. “Why don’t you go take a shower and then we can sleep for a little while. The banks will still be there in the morning.”

As the night winded down once more, and Harley fell asleep beside you, there was only one thought running through your head, and it was just how happy you were that she was back. 

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[thebluestbluewords]

a pirate by any name +

"Samson Smee?" Ben asks, tapping the name on the list. “Is he related to Captain Hook’s sidekick?” 

Evie leans closer on instinct. She doesn’t need to see the paperwork to know who Sammy is, but it’s a habit now to press close to Ben and tilt her head just-so to see the paper lists and forms when they’re working on VK matters together. It a comfort, to know that she’s not in this fight alone, and Ben certainly hasn’t complained about the increased contact with his girlfriend’s girlfriend. “Yes. He goes by Sammy. He's probably not going to want to come over without his brothers, but we can still make the offer." 

"Can we bring the brothers?" 

The last time Evie saw the littlest Smee children, they were sobbing over a pirate’s body before the adult crew members tipped them over the harbor for the sharks to take their share. They couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old, and what Evie remembers the most is the way their tears had carved clean tracks out of the dirt on their faces. 

She hums her consideration. “They're young. Elementary age, maybe ten or so now. I think they'd be okay to come, but they're shy, and I'm not sure how they'd do at school. As families go, I think all the Smee boys would do well in terms of goodness integration, but they may be difficult to integrate on a social level unless they can come over with someone they already know." 

"Alright. Who do you think they'd do well with?" 

Their father. 

“Their father,” Evie says, bitingly, before she reigns her tongue back in again. Not that it matters around Ben, who is handsome and kind and just listens when Evie needs to shout at somebody about the horrible unfairness of it all, but it’s good practice. She’s a politician now, just like her mother wanted. She’s got to be the best, because she’s an isle brat, and she cannot afford to make mistakes. Anything she says, anything she does wrong will reflect on the isle as a whole, so she’s got to be flawless. She will prove herself not just for her mother’s sake, but because she’s got a thousand hungry kids waiting for her to mess up and snip their only thread of hope at getting off the isle. “But that’s exactly the problem. Sammy has a crew, but the twins just tag along with him or their father all the time, and I don't think Auradon Prep, or any other high school for that matter, wants to have a pair of kids following their new high school student everywhere,” Evie sighs. She’s so fucking tired.  “We have schools on the isle, obviously, but Sammy doesn’t attend very often. The pirates usually stick with their ships and learn what they need from the older members of their crews. It’s not a traditional Auradon education, but the pirates are actually some of the better educated kids on the isle. It works for them, but it won’t work if we bring them here.” 

Ben puts a warm hand on her arm. It’s all Evie can do not to sink into the touch. She’s so, so tired of this. Of begging for any scrap they can get. Any concession to the norm comes at the price of another sliver of her own sanity, it feels like, and there’s so many children who won’t be able to handle the pressure of Auradon Prep, who will need more exceptions than the system is set up to give them, who won’t be able to thrive without the attention that nobody is able to give them. 

“We can ask the charter school,” Ben says softly. “There's integrated schools, all ages sort of places. My mother’s village has one. We can reach out. She provides a grant each year, they might decide they own me a favor.” 

Evie presses into his touch. Gods below, but it’s nice to have somebody who knows better than her the networks of favors and family histories that keep the kingdom governments running. “Or if we could find a family who would be willing to keep them together and send them to separate day schools, they might get used to being on their own like that,” Evie suggests. “Sort of slow and steady. A gradual break.” 

Ben makes a note, a shorthand scribble on the side of his list. Evie’s eyes are swirling too much to read it exactly, but she knows their code. Foster family, special education, sibling unit. That’s what they need to know in order to place the Smee boys. A whole life, reduced down to three shorthand scribbles. “That could work. What are the brothers called?" 

Evie laughs, exhausted. “Squeaky and Squirmy, but I believe their birth names are Sawyer and Simon. They're not bad kids, they're just shy. They would do better here, I think. Where there’s less adults around to bully them into staying quiet.” 

 Ben slips his hand up her arm, around her shoulders, pulls until she can rest her head on the side of his own. He’s warm and sturdy and if they weren’t in the middle of important work, Evie could fall asleep just like this. And then cause a scandal when the service staff come in to wake them both up, and find the young king sleeping on a girl who is not his girlfriend, no matter how many interests and people they share between them. 

"We can ask. If Sammy's willing to come over without them, who do you think we could bring with him?" 

"Anthony. Dizzy's cousin. They run with the same crew, and they'd do well together. I would say that we should bring over Harriet, but knowing her, she's not going to come over unless we can get the rest of her crew out first, and she's got one of the biggest crews on the isle." 

 Ben skims the list of kids, running his pen down the side as he goes. “Harriet?" 

She’s not on the list. 

“Hook,” Evie explains. “She’s one of the eldest pirate kids. We didn’t add her to the list because she won’t come until we can bring her crew with her, and we can’t promise that yet.” 

“Hook.” Ben echoes, voice flat. “As in—?” 

He’s encountered Harry, and came away with almost as much vitriol for him as Mal. 

Evie presses herself closer to him, so that he can feel her heat, and maybe remember that they’re in her office, not the wet deck of a ship. That he’s not tied to a mast, waiting to die anymore. “Yes. There are three Hook kids, and they all hate each other. We only hate Harry, the middle one, so Harriet and CJ are our allies. Sort of an enemy-of-our-enemy kind of thing."

"Harry's the one who's involved with Uma.” Ben says, so softly that Evie can barely hear the words. “The one who tried to kill me.” 

"Yes. He's....” Evie hesitates. She’s safe to hesitate here, in her own little office that smells like citrus wood polish and old papers. She doesn’t have to preform just for Ben, because she can trust him. Her sweet, kind king.

Trust doesn’t mean she wants to tell him everything. Understatement is a tool that Evie is well practiced at wielding, so she lets herself close her eyes, and forges ahead. “He’s a lot. We don't like him." 

Ben smiles, small and sweet and almost sad. "I take it there's a history there?" 

"Just a bit." Evie agrees. "There's been a few incidents."

"Would it be useful for me to know?"

Evie breathes in, and out, and relaxes her shoulders in an attempt to let go of the anger that she's still holding in her body. "I suppose so. Yes." 

"Do you want to tell me?" 

Honesty is the foundation of good relationships. "No." 

Ben nods. He's too good to them. "You could tell me later. If you'd like." 

The memory of blood spills over Evie's hands. The slippery, awful feeling of insides that were never supposed to become outsides against her leather gloves. The gritty feeling of dirt in her eyes that she can't rub out, blown up from the shattered crates they'd been aiming to take back from the pirates. The blood though, that's the part that she can't forget. She's been a medic since she first started sneaking out of her mother's house, but she's usually restricted herself to broken arms and legs and noses, some shallow stitches, fever medication, abortifacients and concussion care for the kids who can't take the dubious mercy of the barrier's spell. She's done medications for the kids who cared to try them, all sorts of poultices and remedies for the ailments that are within her power to fix. 

She's never been able to fix someone once they start bleeding out. 

She knows the theory of it. Blood transfusions, tourniquets, ways of stopping arteries without killing the patient. The problem is that she's never had to do it firsthand, because they've always known that the spell on the barrier was there to catch them before they died for real. The spell heals the killing blows, so it's easier to lean into the death than it is to staunch critical bleeding. Evie's killed kids herself, those who wouldn't die quick enough on their own, so that they could have the mercy of the barrier and the spell healing them back into a body marginally less broken than the one they'd left from. 

"He killed us." Evie manages, around the memory of blood spilling up from her throat. "They made it a game. Him and Uma and their crew. We killed each other." 

They've told Ben enough. He can figure out the rest, and he's smart and good and kind, so he does, and she can see him go white when he figures it out. 

[jackfrombaskinrobbins]

adopting a pet with the avengers!

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 911

request: yes / no

original request: hello good fellow. can you do a headcanon set on adopting a pet with the avengers? thanks

dynamic: avengers x teen!reader (teenage avenger series)

characters: mainly tony stark, scott lang, reader, peter parker, harley keener, miles morales, and bruce banner!

a/n: bucky + alpine = fave duo ever. OK maybe natasha & liho too. and clint and lucky. there are so many good pets already in marvel (usually just comics tho smh) so i had some stuff to go off of. THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST i loved writing it <3

taglist: @nutellani @thecloudedmind

(fill out this form to be on my taglist!)

-----------------------✰----------------------

you had been BEGGING tony to let you get another pet

bc a few of them already lived at the tower

lucky, liho, and alpine

but you wanted a dog.

not just any dog

specifically a puppy 

and miles, peter & harley were on ur side

especially harley bc he rly wanted a dog

so one day when tony got rly tired of y’all asking him, he came up with an idea

“tell you what. how about you kids make a petition. if you can get a decent amount of signatures, i’ll consider getting you a puppy.”

and that was good with u!!

i mean u were all taking government class at midtown so this was gonna be easy

the first person you went to was scott

bc he’s scott, he wasn’t gonna have an issue with a puppy right

right?????

but when you asked him, he seemed kind of sad for some reason.

and when you asked him why?

“well, it’s just… i don’t want my ants to feel left out.”

“scott, i don’t think they would feel left out. you love those things more than anything!”

“yeah.. you’re right. ant-onio banderas won’t be mad right? or ant-ibacterial? oh, hopefully if they’re mad, it won’t be permen-ANT!!!”

you got the signature and left asap because once scott says one pun he takes like hours to figure out another

love him though

so next you went to clint

and he was more than happy to sign!!

bc ofc lucky would love a little friend

and natasha was there too

she was a little more hesitant bc liho is rly sweet but kinda skittish

but you convinced her because you told her how cute it would be if they loved each other & like you could get the cute stock photos of a dog & a cat together or something

thor was totally on board

because he’s thor ofc

and thor loves puppies

“y/n, this is so exciting! i remember when i got my first pet!! well, it turned out to be loki in disguise. it was still very exciting, though!!”

oh btw miles and peter signed 

they were ur first signatures!!!!!!

next up was sam, bucky, and steve

and you and harley decided you needed a little extra push to convince them

so you made a powerpoint presentation. 

and it was awesome

like you may have used every single available transition

twice

maybe three times each

like i said it was awesome

maybe a little excessive

but awesome!!!

steve kept making you go back a slide because he was taking notes

TAKING NOTES

what a nerd, am i right???

jk we love steve rogers in this house

anyways then they deliberated

and they made you and harley go stand outside the room

it literally felt like shark tank you guys

well not the standing outside while they decide but still

but they signed it yippee!!!!

bruce and wanda signed quickly too

especially bruce was really excited

i feel like he would totally be a dog person 

like he prob had a puppy when he was young that he really loved

you even went over to the sanctum sanctorum to get stephen and wong to sign it!!!

and they did!!!

well wong did

and then he forged strange’s signature for you

wong supremacy fr

you were on a roll

you got aunt may to sign it. you got phil coulson to sign it (pretend he’s alive oml sry yall) you got maria hill to sign it.

hell, nick fury even signed it!!!!

so you took it back to tony

and he was like 

“woah this is a lot more than i expected”

AND SO HE TOOK YOU TO GET A PUPPY!!

and y’all

you and peter, harley, and miles found the cutest one

a little german shepard 

w like the floppy ears & stuff?

oml he was so cute

tony kept saying his named was tony jr

but you told him no

but he kept saying it

ok, live in ur fantasy world ig stark!!!!

jk love him

anyways you named him max!!!

bc yes!!!!

and you took him back to the tower

thor was really excited and max like totally loved him from the start fr

any time he liked ripped up the furniture or smth thor would just hold him with one hand and take him around

but he was happy so he was like wagging his tail and stuff

sam and bucky looked like they didn’t like the dog at first

but then alpine was like obsessed with it and so bucky had to like him

and max kept sitting on sam and licking him

and he was like “omg stop”

but he was laughing so you knew you were good

tony and bruce even built a little spot for max in the lab

and a bunch of like cool toys for him

max was the perfect dog for y’all bc like he loved everyone and everyone loved him

every night he slept in a new room & he loved to play 

he ran with y’all too when you had to run so it was way more fun

suddenly dr strange was over at the tower a lot more…

he’s such a softie

and scott loved him too they were best friends

tony was just proud of himself for “teaching you to be good citizens”

HAHAHA

dw y’all he loved the dog too

just trust that max is the most spoiled dog EVER!!

-----------------------✰----------------------

[artzychic27]

Maybe the Akuma, Science, Recess, and Theater class/kids should have a “We Gotta Get Rid of Marinette or Send Her To Therapy” meeting

Mason: I would like to call this “Ranting about Marinette/Ladybug” meeting to order. Now, let us read the minutes. Dot?

Dot: ‘October 15th, 4:12pm, Brecken aired his grievances, stating, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a no-good-”

Kim: Can we just loudly complain?

Mason: Hmm… I don’t see why not. Proceed.

Rose: MARINETTE TOOK MY HAMSTER PLUSHIE!

Eri: She ruined my gown!

Genevieve: My singing voice is atrocious because of her!

Denise: I’m just supposed to let some creep pummel me into the dirt and wait for that bug to show up five minutes later?! Hell no!

Nino: I can’t believe I ever had a crush on that girl!

Nathaniel: I know! What were we thinking?!

Spinelli: That little fox ruined some of my best work! I spent hours on that mural! Do you know how hard working with chalk is?!

Reshma: I couldn’t make any new friends because of her!

Marc: If she ever gives you guys dating advice, just walk away!

Austin T: I NEVER hit Jean! What the hell is Ladybug’s problem?!

Soo-Yeon: Candace and I were in surgery because of that chick!

Kim: Ladybug?

Candace: No, Marinette.

Alya: That girl is getting to be way too much! Being her friend is like a full-time job without the pay! I could be rolling in cash!

DJ: Then, it’s decided. We take Marinette down, then Ladybug.

Cosette: How?

DJ: I have no clue.

Lotta: Well, it’s gotta be done now! We’ve all seen just how far Marinette will go to get rid of anyone Adrien so much as smiles at!

Rochelle: … Well…

Austin B: Oh, I know that look. Spill.

Rochelle: I mean, we could all put our skills to use. It’s one against… What, like thirty? Thirty-five? You get the idea. What do we have to be afraid of? Several of us come from influential families, and I’m looking at a few people who could easily hack into the government. Do you all see where I’m headed?

Austin Q: Oh, my God, we’re dumb!

Gia: We could have stood together as a united front this entire time!

Victoria: Rochelle, honey, you sit next to me, and I mean forever. Where do we start?

Rochelle: Alya, you’re still close to Marinette, right?

Alya: It’s a one-sided closeness.

Rochelle: Good enough. Gather any evidence of her misdeeds. “Accidentally” record her talking about her plans to sabotage some poor girl who shows an interest in Adrien. Mason, I know very well that your personal files on the students are more secure than the NSA’s.

Mason: *Blushes* Well, I guess.

Rochelle: Anything we pick up goes to you until it’s time for the grand reveal.

Ivan: That takes care of Marinette, but what about Ladybug?

Rochelle: If I’m correct, I’m sure we won’t have to worry about her.

Alix: Cryptic much?

Rochelle: Very much, yes. But, trust me. All our problems will soon be resolved.

Austin A: *To Austin B* I can see why you like hanging out with zir.

@msweebyness @imsparky2002

[baronessblixen]

Prompt: 23. "No, you won't understand, ever."

A different kind of post-episode fic for "The Unnatural": After his and Scully's baseball date, Mulder runs into Diana. (spoiler alert: this is an MSR fic) wc: 1,226

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 21: No Longer Stuck In The Past

He sees her waiting in front of his apartment, leaning against the door, and he stops for a moment, feeling like he’s stepped into the past. Back then, something odd years ago, this exact moment has happened. Except back then, his heart had soared, his lips had twisted into a smile, and her sight was welcome. Today, none of it applies.

“Diana,” he says as a way of greeting. “What are you doing here? It’s late.” He unlocks the door to his apartment and she just walks past him. Her perfume isn’t the same as it was back then, so it doesn’t carry any memories for him. All it makes him think about is Scully. Her softness and her subtlety. The exact opposite of everything Diana is.

“I came to see you, Fox.” She’s smiling and he looks at her, trying to find that part of him that was in love with her. “Were you out playing baseball with some friends?” Her smile is wavering. He knows why she’s asking. And what she really wants to know.

“In a way,” he replies, not wanting to give her what she wants. “What do you want? Is it a case? Did anything happen?”

“No, nothing of the sort. I wanted to see you. I called but… I miss you, Fox.” She’s walking closer to him and he’s rooted to the spot. “You’ve always loved baseball.” She reaches out and touches his jersey. The one that has Scully all over it. Diana blurs in front of him and turns into Scully. Into the moment when they said goodbye. She touched his arm as if unsure if she should let him go. He felt the same. But tonight wasn’t about jumping on trains or breaking into government facilities. Tonight was a new beginning. The start of a new iteration of them. Without saying a single word, they both decided to go home alone. Now he wishes they hadn’t.

“You couldn’t tell me that at work?”

“That’s hardly a conversation for the basement, is it?” She tilts her head, giving him all her best moves.

“You could have called.”

“I told you that I tried. You weren’t picking up.”

“Because I was busy,” he says.

“That’s why I came here.” She’s always been like this. Took whatever she wanted. Even if it meant being pushy. The one time he pushed back, she disappeared into the night without a single word of goodbye. Now she’s standing here, claiming she misses him. She’s the same Diana she was when he was in love with her. But he’s not the same Mulder.

“I’m tired, Diana. I had a long day and I’d like to go to bed.”

“Oh right, you have a bed now. When did that happen?”

“How did you even know I’d come home tonight?” His words hit her unexpectedly, that much is clear. She recoils as if he just hit her.

“Where else would you have gone?”

He laughs. There’s no humor in it whatsoever. “That’s so you. You really think that I- Diana, please leave, okay? Before either of us does something we might regret. We can talk tomorrow. We can meet for a coffee or-”

“Coffee?” She spits the word. “I don’t want to drink coffee and reminisce, Fox.” No, he thinks. That’s not what she wants. She wants to push her way back into his life. Into his pants, and into his mind. He’s never seen so clearly. It’s as if someone has removed a blindfold. Scully, he thinks. It must have been Scully. He thought she was just jealous; that may have played a part. But he sees now what she must have seen in Diana in the beginning. His heart breaks all over again, like it did back then. This time, however, it breaks for what could have been. They could have become friends, allies. It’s not what she wants. At all.

“I was playing baseball, Diana. But I wasn’t with some friends. I was with Scully.” Diana snorts.

“I don’t understand what you see in her.”

“No,” he says, a half-laugh slipping from his mouth. “You won’t understand, ever.”

“She doesn’t get you, Fox. I see the way she undermines you.” Diana is pleading with him. She must know that what she’s saying is far from the truth. But she doesn’t give up. They have that in common.

“You don’t know her at all. Or me, for that matter. You did – once. When I was younger. I’m no longer the same man.”

“Clearly,” she says, derision in her voice. “You’d pick her. After everything we’ve been through?” She takes a step toward him and he lets her. “After everything we’ve done?” Her hand is on his chest and she looks up at him, her eyes begging.

He thinks of nights when they sat here together, talking about the X-Files. Nights where they were wrapped up in each other. Nights full of passion. They’re a part of him, but they’re in the past. And for once, he has no desire to revisit it. He touches her hand and sees hope bloom in her eyes. But he removes it from his chest, holding it a moment longer.

“I’m grateful for what we had, Diana. And I’d like to be friends. That’s all we’re going to be, though.”

“Friends.” There’s hurt in her expression and her whole demeanor. She thought she had him. She thought she could convince him. Mulder knows her. He can read her all too well. He doesn’t know why he was so blind before. Maybe he didn’t want to see. He closed his eyes and turned away, refusing to face the truth.

“You’re choosing her?” To him, it’s not a choice, but he knows Diana wants an answer so he nods. “You’re not even together,” she says lamely, making Mulder chuckle in spite of the situation.

“My relationship with Scully is not your business, Diana.”

“You really have changed,” she says, picking up her purse. The pain of rejection is still evident, but he thinks there’s admiration in her voice, too. “Well, I’ll be going then. You know where to find me if you do change your mind. You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

He remains quiet, biting his lip. He does know what he’s letting go. And he’s ready. His arms tingle with the memory of holding Scully. Her soft form pressed against him. The trust she put in him to help her hit each ball that was flung at them. Her laughter. The sweetest sound he’s ever heard. And he wants to hear it again. And again, and again.

“You’re not even listening, are you?” Diana says. “I’ll see you at work then.”

“Goodbye, Diana,” he says and she just throws him a look, not saying another word. He doesn’t wait until her steps recede outside and grabs the phone. He dials her number by heart and she picks up after just a few rings.

"It's me," he says, smiling and wishing he could see her.

“Mulder?” she asks, perplexed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m more than okay, Scully. I was just missing you.”

“You saw me an hour ago.”

“I know.” He grins. The memory of Diana’s visit is fading already. “But it was a long hour. A very long hour.” On the other end of the line, Scully laughs.

[plethomacademia]

Had a lunch fit due to this picture of Enver pouring wine on himself. Maevetash, M rating for blood and a sideways reference to sex, 681 words, Gort provokes Maeve by pouring wine on his chest when she is in Blood Weirdo mode

Maeve puts her fingers to Enver Gortash’s chest, just above his heart, and begins to trace. She cannot say whether or not her movement is accurate, whether she is faithfully following the flow of the blood being pumped out from his heart, heavy with oxygen fresh from his lungs. Once her fingertips touch his open collar, she goes back to try again.

She hears the slurp of him taking another drink, and then the wet sounds of his mouth as the liquid is sent down his esophagus. She looks to the middle of his chest, imagining the red wine going underneath the path of his red blood.

“You are distracted,” he says and she feels his words in her hands.

“Distracted from what?” she says, looking up to see him watching her. “We aren’t doing anything.”

It is half true. They are at rest after a hearty meal and a hearty debate over whether a historical coup had been a success or a failure. Maeve had argued the former (the coup had in fact succeeded), Enver had argued the latter (the government formed in its aftermath had quickly collapsed). They have settled on the couch of his study and she has allowed him to put his arm around her. Finally, she has relaxed into it and now they they are in the in-between space: the time period after the excuse for their coming together and before the battle to convince her to stay for just a little while longer.

“You would like to though, I think,” he says.

“You like to think that you that know what I would like, I think,” she replies.

He moves his glass back to his lips. “Mm,” he hums as he takes a sip.

Maeve looks back to her hand, paused above his right pectoral and the lovely layer of fat that his fine life has put over it. She moves it back to his heart.

Suddenly, her vision is filled with red.

She feels herself freeze and she anticipates copper, she anticipates iron, she anticipates a thick trail of sticky clinging red that drips fast and then slow as it grabs onto itself, trying to stop itself from pouring, the kind that could coat a tongue, maybe a throat if you are greedy.

Instead, there is a splash, followed by the smell of oak and grapes, a red burst that dissipates into a thin film in between the hair on his chest and belly. She looks to his face again and finds him smiling, his wine glass held nearly horizontally, just high enough to keep him from spilling even more of the drink onto himself.

“What are you doing?!” she says and she hates how it sounds coming out.

“Testing a theory,” he says. He smiles at her and she knows he heard it, the surprise and worse, the betrayal when the red liquid was not the one that she wanted.

“Perhaps I will test my own theories, Lord Gortash.” She pushes herself to sitting, then slings a leg over his lap. This lets her put both hands on his chest and she digs in her thumbs, presses them both into his sternum. She does not let up until his skin is white from the pressure, then hooks each finger, as if she might decide at any time to open his chest like a clam.

“Oh come now, you have long decided that I am best kept alive. But,” he says, making sure that she is listening before he continues, “if you desire to carve me up, I am always amenable to seeing you exercise your lovely control, Slayer.”

She feels him already hardening underneath her bottom and she pushes down hard, enough to earn her a wince. “You are a reckless fool, Enver Gortash.” She lets herself extend a single nail, a piece of her father’s power, just enough to fill the white divot underneath of her thumbs with red, proper red, thick and pooling. She breathes in the scent of him. “One day, I won’t bother to bring you back from it.”

[ilguna]

☼ when the dead rise pt2 (Stephen Strange) ☼

summary; five years pass, and you come to terms with the fact that you may never see Stephen again. when Tony calls you, telling you that there may be a way to change everything, you decide to take one more chance.

warnings; swearing, willing starvation, needle mention, weapon usage, death, blood, ehh gore, suicide mention, weight gain/loss, kinda cringe if you think about it, happy ending!

wc; 18.7k

notes; the entirety of endgame, haha, i'm not kidding. with nonsensical talk of time traveling, more angst, some fluff, tony and y/n get along, and stephen is there at the end.

part one.

—

The galaxy that you’re floating in is beautiful. It’s perfect, and if you weren’t here right now, sitting in front of the window, you’d say that it’s not real. There’s a mix of the rainbow out there, the brightest hue being aquamarine. Which paints everything in the spaceship the same shade.

You’ve been sitting here for hours, just staring at the stars. They don’t change, captured at their best times. It’ll be millions of years before they burn out, by then they’ll have fulfilled their purpose. There will be no regrets.

You wish you could say the same.

“(Y/n), are you going to come over and eat?” Tony asks from behind you.

He’s sitting at the table with Nebula, they’ve been going back and forth playing their games, trying to keep entertained. You heard him talking about eating, but you never bothered to join the conversation. You don’t have the energy to get up and go over there.

“No, I’m fine.” You murmur, leaning into your knees, arms wrapped around the back of your thighs. “Go ahead and have the rest.”

It’s quiet for a moment, then you can hear him sigh. “You haven’t eaten anything today.”

“I know.” You tell him. “I’m not hungry.”

The sound of a chair scraping against the metal flooring fills the air. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. His footsteps echo through the ship, shuffling to a stop behind you.

“You haven’t been hungry for the past couple of days.” He says, voice surprisingly gentle. “You can’t do this to yourself. It won’t change things.”

With gritted teeth, you swallow thickly, and let out an uneven breath. “I know that too, Tony.” 

He moves to stand right next to you, letting out a grunt. When you open your eyes, looking over, you see that he’s sitting beside you, legs crossed. The shiny silver bag is in his hand, he shakes it, looking inside.

“It’s some sort of mix. It doesn’t taste good at first, but it’ll grow on you.” He says, holding it out for you.

You stare at him, pressure building behind your eyes again. Your lips begin to tremble first, face twisting as the tears take over. Tony frowns, setting the bag down, and reaches to pull you in a hug. As you begin to cry into his shoulder, he squeezes you tightly, causing the ache in your ribs to surface.

“I just want him back.” You sob, “Is that too much to ask for?”

DAY TWENTY-THREE

“It’s been twenty-three days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodes says, he’s standing at the wooden table where a holographic projection displays out of a cylindrical device in the middle.

In the air, you’re able to see the faces and names of those you lost that day. It’s constantly rotating, a few of them being Nick Fury, Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Peter, and Stephen. There’s more, of course, faces you don’t recognize because you cut ties with the Avengers a couple years ago.

“World governments are in pieces,” Natasha begins. “The parts that are still working are trying to take a census and it looks like he did…” She trails off for a moment, Tony pushes up his glasses, hand covering his face when Peter appears in front of him. “He did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out,” She sighs, “Fifty percent of all living creatures.” 

There’s a moment of silence across the table, you play with one of your rings, twisting it between your fingers. 

Tony moves his hand, lifting his head. “Where is he now? Where?” He’s currently in a wheelchair, hooked up to an IV. He’s looked better, but to be fair, so have you. You’re two peas in one miserable pod. 

While you came out with bruised ribs and a gnarly scar from where Thanos had ripped out a chunk of your skin—which Tony tried his best to repair while on the spaceship. He had to fight through an infection from being stabbed by his own nanotech, which Nebula had the pleasure of healing.

In the end, there was only so much food to pass around on the ship. Even though you’d gone days without eating, it didn’t help the supply any. However, your weightloss is nothing compared to Tony’s, because he’s sick at the moment.

“We don’t know.” Steve says, his arms are crossed over his chest. He’s leaning against a table nearby. “He just opened a portal and walked through.”

Tony wheels forward, sighing, looking off to the side. “What’s wrong with him?” He asks, motioning to Thor. He’s sitting in a separate room, leaned forward on his knees, a hard expression on his face, moving his thumbs.

“Oh, he’s pissed.” Rocket says. He’s a talking raccoon that was part of Quill’s group, you met him after you landed back on Earth. Which only happened because Tony and Nebula set off a distress signal, and a woman named Carol Danvers came to save you. “He thinks he failed.” Tony’s hand falls. “Which, of course, he did, but there’s a lot of that going around, ain’t there?” 

“Honestly, until this exact second I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.” Tony says.

“Maybe I am.”

“We’ve been hunting Thanos for three weeks now.” Steve says. “Deep space scans and satellites and we got nothing.” He pauses, looking up at the table. “(Y/n), Tony, you fought him.”

“Who told you that?” Tony asks. “I didn’t fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street magician—” You turn your head to look at him, eyebrows drawing in. “Gave away the store. That’s what happened.”

“Don’t talk about him like that.” You snap, suddenly getting up from your chair. When it begins to fall back, you catch it with one hand, slamming it against the floorboards. “Prick.”

“There was no fight, ‘cause he’s not beatable.” Tony finishes, unbothered by you. 

“Okay,” Steve nods. “Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?”

Tony makes a noise, saluting Steve. “I saw this coming a few years back.” He sinks into the wheelchair. “I had a vision. I didn’t wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming.”

Steve stands. “Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus.”

“And I need you.” Tony says, it’s muffled because of the hand in front of his mouth. He drops it. “As in, past tense. That trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy.” He shakes his head. “Sorry.”

You run a hand through your hair, and then settle into crossing your arms.

Tony sniffs. “You know what I need?” He slaps a bowl away from him, the spoon clattering against the table. He gets to his feet, one hand on it as he leans forward. “I need a shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse…” 

He begins to pull at the IV needle, Rhodes steps toward him. “Tony, Tony!”

“...alive and otherwise, that what we needed,” He does a circular motion. “Was a suit of armour around the world. Remember that?” His voice is raising. “Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not. That’s what we needed.”

“Well, that didn’t work out, did it?” Steve asks.

“I said we’d lose.” Tony points to himself. “You said, ‘We’ll do that together, too’. And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren’t there.” Steve sighs. “But that’s what we do, right? Our best work after the fact?” Rhodes grabs Tony by the arms to steady him. “We’re the ‘Avengers’. We’re the ‘Avengers’, not the ‘Pre-vengers’.”

He looks at Rhodes, who nods. “Okay.”

“Right?” Tony asks.

“You made your point. Just sit down, okay?” 

“Okay.” Tony says, looking away. “No, no, here’s my point. You know what?” He points at Carol. She’s unamused, “She’s great by the way.”

“Tony, you’re sick. Sit down.” Rhodes tries to push him down.

“We need you. You’re new blood.” He pushes off of Rhodes. “Bunch of tired old mules. I got nothing for you, Cap.” He walks to stand a foot away from Steve. “I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust, liar.” He whispers.

You watch as he reaches up to grab the arc reactor, ripping it from his chest. Tony’s breathing becomes uneven, as he grabs Steve’s hand, and slaps the reactor into it. “Here, take this. You find him, put that on, you hide.” He falls to his knees.

You, Steve and Rhodes move forward at the same moment.

“Tony!” Steve reaches for him.

“I’m fine.” He says. “Let me…”

His eyes roll back, collapsing.

—

Tony lays on a reclined bed, unconscious, with Pepper beside him, holding his hand. Rhodes drops off his glasses on the bedside table, and then leaves the room, coming to join you, Natasha, Steve and Carol.

“What about you, (Y/n)? You never said anything.” Steve says, several eyes land on you.

You twist the ring, looking at the engraving on the inside for the hundredth time today. Always with you, it says. You found it in Stephen’s room one afternoon, after he’d asked you to clean if you had time. You couldn’t say no, and though he liked to make sure he looked neat, his bedroom could be a mess at times.

When you asked about it, he smiled and told you to keep it. You tried to resist it, hiding it in places all throughout the Sanctum to ensure that it wouldn’t end up back in your possession. He always knew where to find it, and at the end of the day, he’d give it back to you. A gift.

You never really liked wearing jewelry on your hands and wrists. It interferes with the whole ‘raising-the-dead’ thing. You can’t remember the amount of times you broke a bracelet or scratched a ring at the beginning. But when you finally accepted the gift and stopped trying to give it back, you promised Stephen that you’d wear it everyday.

Now you can’t keep it on, as if the gold burns your skin each time it settles into place. Always with you. It feels like a taunt, a joke, something you can’t get away from. 

Where is he?

“No offense, Steve.” Your voice is colder than you mean it to be. “But if I knew anything, don’t you think I would’ve said something?”

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but Rhodes doesn’t give him a chance. “Bruce gave him a sedative. He’s gonna probably be out for the rest of the day.”

“That’s for the best.” You mutter, sliding the ring into your pocket.

“You guys take care of him, and I’ll bring him a Xorrian elixir when I come back.” Carol says, arms crossed over her chest as she begins to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks.

“To kill Thanos.” She says simply. 

The four of you follow after her quickly, because her pace isn’t slowing down. “Hey.” Natasha calls, Carol stops and turns around. “You know, we usually work as a team here and, uh, between you and I, morale’s a little fragile.”

Rhodes leans against the doorway.

“We realize up there is more your territory, but this is our fight, too.” Steve says.

“You even know where he is?” Rhodes asks, looking up from the tile.

“I know people who might.” She says.

“Don’t bother.” Nebula cuts in, standing across the room. “I can tell you where Thanos is.”

“Well, let’s hear it.” You say, going down the steps to join her in the sitting room. 

When you get inside, you see that Rocket is in here, too. Nebula moves to stand next to the window, waiting for the others to join you. You twist a chair around, sitting in it, and sinking into the navy blue cushions. Bruce and Thor roundup to join you.

“Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me.” She says, once everyone has come inside the room. “And when he worked, he talked about his Great Plan. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I’d ask…” She pauses. “Where would we go once his plan was complete?” She turns her head. “And his answer was always the same.” She joins them at the table. “‘To the Garden’.”

Rhodes makes a face, tilting his head. “That’s cute. Thanos has a retirement plan.”

“So, where is he?” Steve asks, moving around the table.

Rocket pulls up a projection of the Earth. “When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for a power surge of ridiculously cosmic proportions.” The projection sends off a blast to emphasize this. “No one’s ever seen anything like it. Until two days ago…” 

He messes with the projection to show a different galaxy, zooming in until you’re met with a planet with rings around it. When you lean forward to see it, the name tag above reads, ‘PLANET 0259-S’. 

“On this planet.” Rocket finishes. 

“Thanos is there.” Nebula says. 

Natasha leans in close. “He used the stones again.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Bruce nervously chuckles, he’s standing at the doorway. “We’d be going in shorthanded, you know.”

“Look, he’s still got the stones, so—”

“So, let’s get ‘em.” Carol’s eyes are locked on the planet. “Use them to bring everyone back.”

“Just like that?” Bruce asks. 

“Yeah. Just like that.” Steve says.

You sit up on the chair at the sound of this.

“Even if there’s a small chance that we can undo this, I mean, we owe it to everyone who’s not in this room to try.” Natasha says, shaking her head.

“If we do this, how do we know it’s gonna end any differently than it did before?” Bruce asks. 

“Because before you didn’t have me.” Carol says, hands on her hips. 

“Hey, new girl?” Rhodes looks at her. “Everybody in this room is about that superhero life.” She tilts her head slightly. “And if you don’t mind my asking, where the hell have you been all this time?”

“There are a lot of other planets in the universe. And unfortunately, they didn’t have you guys.”

Rhodes and Steve make the same face at each other—fair enough.

Thor pushes up from where he’s sitting at the dining room table, still chewing his food. He walks up behind Carol, and she faces him. He holds his hand out over her shoulder, Stormbreaker—the axe that was made on Nidavellir—goes to him, narrowly missing her head, blowing her hair into her face. She doesn’t flinch.

He sighs, squinting, and then nods. “I like this one.”

There’s a moment of silence, you get to your feet, wandering over to stand at the table. Steve looks at you, “Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”

—

The planet that Thanos has chosen to inhabit is, unfortunately, gorgeous. It’s a peaceful place, quiet, with thriving nature and wildlife. The group of you walk in silence, allowing you to enjoy the sounds of the animals chittering around you. 

It doesn’t take long before you come up to the wood shack that Carol had noticed when she came through the atmosphere about ten minutes ago. She went in first, while the rest of you waited in space, wanting to make sure that there wasn’t anything waiting for you on the planet. 

She’d come back, happy to report that there wasn’t a single living being beside Thanos. No satellites, ships, armies. There weren’t even ground defenses. Which would’ve had you excited, if it weren’t for what happened last time you fought him. You practically had the advantage then, too. There were so many people with different abilities.

Bruce positions himself underneath the shack, wearing his iron suit to supplement the fact that Hulk is still out of commission. You watch as Steve waves his arm in a circle, giving Carol the signal. A bright and fiery beam goes right through the shack, and seconds later, she follows.

There’s the sound of Carol fighting Thanos, getting him into position. Bruce breaks through the floor first, with Rhodes and Thor coming through the ceiling. It isn’t until you hear Thanos screaming, do you concur that the gauntlet must be off, done in the most aggressive way possible.

Steve goes up the stairs first, you and Natasha following close behind. Carol has Thanos in a headlock, Rhodes holding his right arm, Bruce holding the left. On the floor lies Thanos’s hand, the gauntlet still attached to it.

Thanos is groaning, face twisted. Rocket makes his way around to the handle, flipping over the gold gauntlet. “Oh, no.”

You look over, expecting to see that everything is fine, besides his mangled arm. You’re met with empty slots, not a single one of the stones is attached to the gauntlet. You sigh, pressing your lips together.

Natasha and Steve share a look before he speaks, “Where are they?”

Thanos groans, Carol pulls her arm tighter, “Answer the question.”

Half of his face is scarred, as if he’s recently been in a fire. Your eyes trail down to what’s left of his arm, finding it in the same condition. In this moment, you can feel the little hope you have leaving your body. 

“The universe required correction.” Thanos says. “After that, the stones served no purpose, beyond temptation.”

“You murdered trillions!” Bruce shouts, shoving Thanos back.

“You should be grateful.”

Bruce punches him.

Natasha takes a breath. “Where are the stones?”

“Gone.” He tells her. “Reduced to atoms.”

“You used them two days ago!” Bruce exclaims.

“I used the stones to destroy the stones.” Thanos says. “It nearly killed me.”

You shake your head, corners of your lips turning down. “That’s not true.”

“It is.” His eyes land on you. “But the work is done. It always will be. I am inevitable.”

“We have to tear this place apart. He has to be lying!” Rhodes says. 

“My father is many things.” Nebula murmurs. “A liar is not one of them.”

“Ah.” Thanos breaths. “Thank you, daughter. Perhaps I treated you too harshly.”

Thor swings his axe up without notice, shouting as he cuts off Thanos’s head. It hits the ground with a thud, purple blood splattering against the wall, on Nebula's face. His body falls back.

“What?” Bruce breathes.

“What did you do?” Rocket asks.

“I went for the head.” Thor mumbles, turning to walk out of the hut.

The rest of you stand in silence, watching as Nebula walks over to his body, kneeling down to shut his eyes. You take in deep breaths through your nose to calm the rising anger. Various thoughts on how you could torture him, even though he’s dead, begin to come to you. You could drag his pathetic body back to Earth, conjure it everyday, make him work his fingers to the bone, never let him rest.

He took Stephen, you think. 

You grit your teeth. “All due respect, Nebula, but we better burn his body.” You tell her, Natasha and Carol glance at you. You squeeze your hands into fists. “Or else I’m going to make sure he never rests. I could find thousands of ways to make the afterlife miserable, trust me.”

She nods at you, and then turns back to him.

You move to follow after Thor, who’s already down the stairs, traveling toward the spaceship. “If you need me, I’ll be by the ship.”

The hero suit fades away, falling back to your regular clothes. Your fingers dip into your jean pocket, coming into contact with the ring you’d stored earlier. You pull it out, holding it in your palm for a long moment. Then, you sigh, sliding it back into its place on your thumb.

ONE YEAR LATER

The dark clouds swirl above the field, acting as a warning that you don’t have much time to practice today. It rains often in New York, so this wouldn’t be your first time having to experience it while testing your abilities. However, it’s happened enough for you to say that you hate the feeling of it.

Lately, you’ve been feeling heavier whenever you come out here, like the ground is one giant blackhole and you’re constantly fighting against flying inside of it. The rain will only make it worse, and you can’t stand it when your clothes are waterlogged. It makes the seats of your car soggy.

Despite this, you take your time walking to the middle, not that you’re able to go faster than this, anyway. You haven’t been yourself for quite a few days, you think a cold might be coming on. Wong has begun to notice too, it was a struggle to convince him to let you leave the Sanctum. Which was done on the promise that you wouldn’t come out here to do this today.

Well, unfortunately for him, you can’t afford to lose time. Every day you spend on your ass, you take a step back from what you’re working towards—a breakthrough. It’s got to be right around the corner, this whole week, you’ve repeatedly felt yourself come to the ledge, but you were too afraid to jump.

You know now that this is how you grow to be stronger, to have a better understanding of your abilities. You can’t become a better hero if you don’t know how to sacrifice yourself sometimes, too.

There’s something under there, beneath the grass. It’s more than just the dead that you’re used to bringing to life. You get a feel for it each time you try, but it’s like uprooting a tree that’s been standing for hundreds of years. It’s resistant. 

You haven’t told any of the Avengers yet, afraid to get their hopes up. You think that it’s those who were killed in the blip. The reason why it’s so hard to bring them back is because they don’t have physical bodies, so what happens if you try to put them back together?

It sounds ridiculous at first, but it’s not that heinous when you map it out. When you tried to explain it to Wong, he shut you down within the first thirty minutes, telling you that this isn’t how it works. You told him that it’s fine if he doesn’t want to have hope, you won’t let him drag you down. 

It goes like this—it’s very simple—their bodies are everywhere. Those who were killed outdoors have been spread through nature. They were in the air at one point, but now they’re in the grass, the dirt, the Earth. They’re here, half the job is already done for you. What you need to do is focus on one person to bring back in the area, and work from there.

And it’s not even that ridiculous of an idea! When you were on Titan last year, directly after you’d lost Stephen, you tried that exact method. It’s where your inspiration came from. The ground shook, trying to listen to your direction. The issue is that you weren’t strong enough, you didn’t have enough practice to be doing something like that.

Now, you do. It’s what you’ve been working toward for the past few months, day in and day out, no breaks, absolutely no days off.

You slowly lower yourself to the ground, joints aching. You breathe heavily, sitting sideways on your legs, because your knees hurt from sitting on them for hours at a time. You place your hands in front of you, palms flat in the grass.

When you close your eyes, the ticklish feeling in your stomach rises. You focus on that, what it means, how long it’ll take for it to build before it becomes the dark energy that is necromancy. It isn’t until you feel the pressure beginning in your palms, as if you’re being sucked downward, do you switch to that.

You don’t allow it to bring you down, in fact, you pull back with ten times as much force. You’re coming to me, you think, not the other way around. It doesn’t want to, though, so you sort through the mass. Eyes bouncing from side to side behind your lids, looking for the weakest link.

You find it, and yank. The first few times, it doesn’t budge, it’s coming from several directions, exactly what you’re looking for. With this excitement, you beckon it toward you. The body isn’t fighting anymore, it’s like reeling in a dead fish. Which wouldn’t be appetizing to others, but it’s what you’re looking for.

The worry sets in when you realize that it’s not slowing down. You’ve just lifted your right hand off of the ground, when the matter surges through your body—your head whipping back so fast that you’ll be feeling it for weeks. 

A scream tears through your vocal chords, fire eating you up inside. 

It explodes.

You’re thrown into the air, body twisting at an awkward angle as you come into contact with the ground. You land on your bad shoulder, sending a spike of electricity through your torso and down your legs. 

There’s an unbearable ringing in your ears when you roll onto your back, struggling to breathe through the cloud of black smoke that comes to choke you. Your head rolls off to your right side, fingers reaching to touch the scorched grass that you’ve landed on top of. 

The moment you come into contact, it crumbles, turning to dust.

And so do you.

—

The consistent beeping of the heart monitor next to you is what you hear first. A moment of relief floods you, because this means that your hearing isn’t permanently damaged, but it’s fleeting when you realize what that means. Your eyebrows draw in, squeezing your eyes before you try to open them.

The hospital room is dark, the entire afternoon has been wasted away. You look to the window a few feet away, and find a lovely shade of blue and grey, blurred because of the raindrops that cling to the other side. It’s raining, of course, which means that you won’t be able to go out and try again tonight.

You roll your eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh, which you instantly regret when the pain seizes your entire body. You let out a grunt, pressing the back of your head into the pillow, teeth grit while you wait for it to pass.

You remind yourself that this is only a temporary setback. As soon as it’s not muddy out there anymore, you’ll try again. So, maybe not tomorrow, but the following day. You’ll do it again, and you’ll do it right.

A knock on the hospital room door makes you look over. It swings open without you granting entrance, making it a courtesy knock, and when you see who it is, there’s no explanation needed.

Tony Stark strolls into your room as if he owns the entire hospital. His eyes are on you, jaw set. You know this look, it’s the same one he gives right before he lectures you. The look on his face is the least of your worries when you see that his lip is busted and swollen. There’s also a cut across his forehead, blood leaking from it.

“What happened?” It hurts you speak, you wince, scooting to sit up higher on the bed. “How do you know I’m here?”

He shuts the door behind him, there’s no vase of flowers, not even a get well soon card in his hand. This is not a visit he’s making to check on your wellbeing, he doesn’t want to comfort you.

“I’m your emergency contact.” He tells you, stopping at the end of your bed. He sticks his hands into his pockets, eyebrows raised. “I got a call from the nurse because she thought you needed some support.”

You press your lips together, eyes drifting away from his face and to the door he just came through. Stephen is supposed to be your emergency contact, you did it when you got extremely sick during your first year of dating. He was worried you wound up dead somewhere when you hadn’t seen or talked to him for three days straight. He called every hospital in New York to find you.

Tony’s your backup, actually. You know that if anything were to happen to you, and if there’s no one else to make the decisions, he’d do what’s right and in your best interest. The two of you are very close, but you know he’d never let emotion get in the way if he knew you were suffering.

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “Just had an accident, that's all.”

“An accident?” Tony repeats. “That’s what you call raising a monster from hell?”

You blink, face twisting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, I think something exploded but there was no monster.”

“You weren’t awake for that part.” He tells you. “I just spent the last hour fighting it and your wizard buddy had to contain it.”

You stare at him, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not. A part of the evidence is his face, you suppose. You didn’t see anything, though. Just the smoke… which very well could’ve hidden it.

“What were you doing out there, anyway?” He asks.

“I’m working on something.” You adjust in the bed, settling back. “I’ve almost got it. As soon as I get out here, I’ll try again.”

“Try what again?”

You smile, “To bring them back, of course.” Tony’s face falls, he closes his eyes, shaking his head at you. “You have to hear me out first—”

“See, when Wong told me what you were up to, I didn’t believe him.” Tony reaches up, rubbing his face. “I thought that you couldn’t possibly be naive enough to—”

“Oh,” You groan out, waving your hand dismissively, “Don’t listen to Wong, he says I can’t do it. I’m so close though, I can feel it. I almost had it this afternoon, I think I just… chose the wrong thing, you know?”

“(Y/n),” Tony warns.

“See, this is one of the reasons why I didn’t want to tell you so soon. Either it’d get your hopes up, or you’d fall with Wong. Ignore him, he doesn’t know anything.”

You look out the window again. You’re not sure why he’s shutting you down like this. Out of everyone, you thought that he’d be the one that’d jump on your side. It wouldn’t be the first time he bet on something so outlandish. With him on your side, you think you have a better chance at succeeding.

Besides, you can bring back the dead, anyway. How is this that big of a stretch? And if you did pull a monster out of the ground—it’s even more the reason to believe you.

“I can bring them back, Tony.” You say.

“(Y/n), you can’t.” He says, “You tried, remember? You couldn’t then, and you can’t now.”

“Yeah, because I haven’t had my breakthrough yet.” You laugh, which dissolves into you grimacing. “I’m not strong enough. Just a couple more times, and I’ll have it.”

“No.” Tony waves his hand, as if he’s cutting off your plan. “You do any more of this, and you’ll get yourself killed.”

“That’s not true.” You shake your head. “We both don’t know if I can even die.” 

“At the pace you’re going, it doesn’t even matter!” He holds his hand out. “In the end, if you die, all you would’ve been doing to yourself this entire time is torture.”

You tilt your head at him. “I know you’re worried about me, and I appreciate it. I’m fine, though, look at me.”

“I am, and I feel like I’m talking to a corpse. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“I’m sick, Tony. It’s just the flu.” You say.

“No, (Y/n), your body is wasting away because this,” He motions aggressively to the window. “Is all you do. Wong has been contacting me for weeks, afraid that you’re going to drop dead any minute.”

“Fine,” You sigh. “If you two are so worried, I’ll take a break, but I’m not giving this up. It’s a hiccup, as soon as I get it down—”

He cuts you off, “What would Stephen think of this?” 

You stare, “Don’t.”

“No, you don’t.” He tells you. “I know we don’t have the best relationship at times, but I sure as hell won’t watch you kill yourself.”

“Then walk away.” You point to the door. “No one asked you to be here, to come in here talking about what Stephen would or wouldn’t want. You don’t know anything about him!”

“That doesn’t matter, because it doesn’t take a genius to know that he cared about you.”

“Get out.” You tell him. “Get the fuck away from me.”

He starts toward the door, not saying anything until he’s halfway out, turning to look at you. “If I catch wind that you’re doing this again, I’ll have you locked in a padded room for the rest of your life.”

Tony pulls the door shut tightly behind him.

THREE YEARS LATER

The clothes in the closet have lost their scent. After three years of picking them out to hold against your nose, there’s nothing left of him. Which means that your reasoning to stay in the Sanctum has finally expired. You have to move on.

This is by your own choice, not anyone else’s. Wong has made it explicitly clear that if you want to stay here, he will not say otherwise. He doesn’t mind it. In fact, you keep him company, even if your presence is mostly done in silence. What matters is that you’re in the room.

You took this offer, but told yourself that you couldn’t stay here forever. If you were going to be hung up on Stephen, you’d have to do it privately. So, you made a deal; the moment his room stopped feeling like it belonged to him, it was time to go. 

You noticed it a few weeks ago, when you came back from the Avengers Compound to collect the last of your belongings. The team was falling apart, again, and as much as you wish you could say that you were going to stay this time, you weren’t. You were already planning on leaving for good, this was just the perfect excuse to use.

The moment you stepped foot into the bedroom, you knew there was no coming back. It felt like you were walking into a foreign planet, a place you didn’t recognize, despite being there hours earlier. Six years of living in this room, gone.

Since, you’ve spent your time trying to find an apartment you like for a decent price, that’s also close to the Sanctum. You almost cried when you got offered a perfect one a few streets away, ready for you to move in. However, your initial excitement has worn off. You’ve been dragging your feet the entire week when it comes to packing, because they had to finalize the paperwork anyway.

Which left you to do it all today.

For the past two hours, you’ve packed everything you own back into boxes and bins, stacking them by the bedroom door. You decided early on that it would be easier if you worked in phases. The hardest part would be detaching yourself from this place, which proved itself to be true. 

You’ve cried a few times throughout the process, but it’s done now. The only thing left to do is bring the boxes down to your car, that’s waiting for you parked in front of the Sanctum.

You drag your feet, stopping in front of the first stack. A sigh leaves you when you reach to pull a box into your arms. When you realize it’s not heavy, you adjust to grab the one that was beneath it, too. You’re not entirely looking forward to going up and down the stairs a hundred times.

A sickness rises in your stomach when you leave the bedroom, beginning to go down the hallway. This feels wrong, like a one-sided breakup, leaving before the other person can get home. Your feet pause briefly, shoe squeaking against the freshly waxed floor.

That’s exactly what it is, isn’t it? 

No, you think harshly, this is different. Stephen is never coming home. He’s lost, just like the trillions of other lives that were taken when Thanos snapped his fingers. This isn’t a breakup.  A part of you wishes it were, because at least then, you’d still have a chance to see him around New York, even if it weren’t on good terms or romantically.

You suck in a deep breath, holding it as you begin your way down the stairs, the first trip of many. You drop these boxes next to the front door, wanting to pack your car all at once. That way, if there’s an issue, it’ll be easier to take it apart. You head back upstairs to repeat this process, it only takes a good fifteen minutes before you’re done. 

When you go back to Stephen’s room one last time to retrieve the engraved, golden ring, your heart skips a few beats in your chest. You shuffle toward the dresser, eyes searching the surface, thinking that it might be blending in. You run your fingers over it, and come back with nothing.

You turn around to look into the room, face twisting, eyebrows pushing in as you struggle to remember if you had moved it or not. You walk to his nightstand, opening the drawers, rummaging through them, even though you could’ve sworn you never put it in here.

It’s not there. So, you move to your nightstand, where you’ve kept your jewelry in the past, especially the ring. Except, when you open the first drawer, you’re met with emptiness. You’ve already taken everything out of it, because it’s packed into one of the boxes downstairs.

You sweep the floor with your eyes, but it’s too dark in here. You throw the curtains open, flooding the room with sunlight. When you go back to looking, hoping that the ring will reflect the light, you can’t find it.

You switch to the closet, opening the doors to reveal that it’s half empty now. The only clothes left hanging are the ones that Stephen thought were too important to fold, and to keep them from wrinkling. There’s nothing here, not even in the darkest corner.

Did it fall under the bed?

On your knees, you press the side of your face to the floor, but the only thing under here are the dust bunnies. You make sure of this, too, when you grab a broom to bring it all out.

The panic begins to settle in, spreading through your body. How did you manage to misplace the ring? It’s the most valuable thing to you. You’d think you’d be more careful with something as sentimental as that—a ring from your dead boyfriend.

“Maybe it’s in a box.” You murmur to yourself to calm down, reel in the insanity that’s beginning to rise. 

You head out of the bedroom, looking at the boxes over the railing. Once you’re down the stairs and in the foyer, you pull the first box off of the stack, opening the cardboard flaps, and pulling all of its contents out. There is no ring, so you push the objects away, off to the side, not bothering to repack it.

The further you get through the pile, the more hysterical you grow. The box that you’d packed with your jewelry doesn’t have it. The neatly folded clothes, now tossed on the floor, don’t have it caught in the cloth. It’s not stuck between the books, you didn’t accidentally throw it with the rest of your trinkets, it’s not with your electronics.

Everything you own is strewn across the foyer, as you continue to tear them apart.

It’s not here.

You get back to your feet, struggling to breathe, the tears starting.

The front door suddenly opens, you look over to see that it’s Wong. He gives you a wide smile at first, which slowly begins to fall when he sees the expression and the state the foyer is in.

“What’s the matter?” He asks.

“I lost the ring.” You whisper. “I don’t—I don’t know where it is. I’ve looked everywhere.” You turn around to motion to the mess you’ve made. “I don’t have it here, I even checked my car. I set it aside so I wouldn’t lose it and it’s not here. The one thing I carry with me and I’m stupid enough—”

“(Y/n),” Wong says, coming to grab your shoulders. You can feel his fingers pressing into the metal that makes up your left shoulder. A replacement that Tony made for you, covering the entire cost. “(Y/n), stop.”

You press your lips together, face contorting as you nod, trying to focus.

“I told you I was taking it to get cleaned, remember?” He asks, face twisted. He removes his hands, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out the small silk bag.

“Oh.” You breathe, feeling your body relax.

You cup your hands, watching as he carefully shakes the ring out of the bag. It’s polished, smooth. When you tilt it to see the inside, the engraving is there, untouched.

“Okay.” You say.

“You’re okay?” He confirms.

You nod, pushing it back to where it belongs on your thumb. “I’m sorry, Wong.”

“Don’t apologize.” He tells you, turning to face the foyer. “Do you need help repacking?”

“Will you?” You ask.

“Of course.”

FIVE YEARS LATER

The sound of a distantly familiar ringtone begins from the coffee table in your living room, again. 

Your eyebrows draw in, turning your head to the side to listen through the first few notes. As you reach for the towel on the counter to dry your hands, you try to remember who it could belong to. It’s garish, dramatic. Whoever the person is, they must resemble the noise.

The bell finally rings.

It’s Stark.

You toss the towel back on the counter when you leave the kitchen. There’s a faint sense of urgency in your steps, considering that you’ve let him call you twice already, figuring that whoever it was would leave you a voicemail. 

In fairness, it’s been a long time since you and Tony talked to each other, muchless on the phone. If you remember correctly, the last conversation you had with him happened right before you left the Avengers. Since then, there hasn’t really been a need to keep up-to-date with him.

All of his life updates are posted on social media, anyway. The only thing you’re obligated to do each year is send his daughter presents when the holidays come around. After all, it’s the least you can do after he saved your life and set you straight.

Sure enough, Tony’s face lights up your screen, a sigh escapes you. You pull the phone into your hand, swiping across the glass to accept the call. You press it to your ear, “Hello?”

“Do you ever answer your phone?” Tony’s voice comes through. “I mean, seriously, it took me three tries for you to pick up? What if I were dying?”

You roll your eyes, letting out a light laugh. “I would hope you’d call Pepper before me, considering we haven’t spoken to each other in almost three years.”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Yes, Tony. Is everything okay?” You ask, walking back to the kitchen.

“I’m fine, (Y/n). Listen, something’s happened.”

You put the call on speaker, setting your phone next to the sink so you can resume doing the dishes. “Good or bad?”

“Both.” He answers. You pull a plate out of the soapy water, scrubbing at it with a sponge. “You remember that fight between me and Cap, right? The one in Germany? There was the guy who could go from big to small?”

You hum, “Scott Lang?”

The sound of him snapping fills the air. “Yes, that guy. Well, he, Natasha and Cap showed up at my house the other day.”

He pauses, not going on any further. You wonder if there’s a point to this story, or if he’s just calling to tell you it’s weird that Scott flew from Los Angeles all the way to New York. Which you guess it is, considering…

Your hands freeze on the plate, eyebrows drawing in. “That’s not possible, Scott Lang was killed in the blip.”

“Yeah, I thought so too, but he’s here. They came over talking about quantum jumping, and how he got stuck in the middle of it when Thanos snapped his fingers. Five years felt like five hours to him.”

“And he’s alive?” You ask.

“Yes.” He sighs into the phone. “You know I wouldn’t be calling you if I thought I was just getting your hopes up.”

This is true. When you were parting ways with the Avengers, you and Tony had a long discussion about the future, and where both of you stood on the matter. You told him that you wanted to retire your suit for good. With there being so many heroes in New York again, there wasn’t a reason for all of you to be active anymore.

This set up the idea that this could be the last time you came face to face with them, because it was partially your plan. You can’t be sucked in if you refuse to be involved. He respected your wishes on this, and told you that if anything were to happen to you, he’d be there in a second if you needed him to be.

And before you left, you came to an agreement; if there was a way that either of you could turn back time and fix everything in a reasonable way, you’d be there, no questions asked.

“Okay…” You prompt him.

“(Y/n), I figured it out.” He tells you. “I figured out how to time travel. It’s taken me…” You can picture him shaking his head. “But I think we can go back and fix this. I think we can bring them back.”

You set the clean plate off to the side, placing the sponge back where it belongs in the ceramic dish. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

You lean over the sink, nodding slowly. “What did they say about it?”

“I haven’t told them yet. I thought you should be the first to know, that’s the deal we made, right?”

“Right.” You agree. “How soon are we doing this?”

“Today.” He says. “I’ll pick you up. We’ll sort it out with them when we get to the Avengers Facility.’

Your eyes land on the gold ring that’s currently sitting on the window sill. “I’ll be ready.” You murmur. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

—

“I remember why I stopped letting you drive me around.” You say, watching as the Facility grows closer. “Cause you’ve got a lead foot.”

“Shut up.” Tony tells you, taking a turn. “We’re almost there.”

“Try not to send us through the windshield before then.” You mutter, being thrown into the door, tires squealing against the asphalt.

As you near the front, you can see that Steve is standing outside of it, hands on his hips. Tony pulls up right before him, putting the car in park when it’s come to a complete stop. He rolls the window down, lazily moving his head to look at Steve.

“Why the long face?” He asks after a moment of silence. “Let me guess, he turned into a baby.”

Steve nods, looking away. “Among other things, yeah. What are you two doing here?”

You throw the car door open to get out before he can start driving again. 

“It’s the EPR Paradox.” Tony gets out, too. “Instead of pushing Lang through time, you might’ve wound up pushing time through Lang. It’s tricky, dangerous. Somebody could have cautioned you against it.”

You shut the door, walking around the car to join them. 

“You did.” Steve says.

“Oh, did I?” Tony mocks being shocked. “Well, thank god I’m here. Regardless, I fixed it.” He holds up his hand, which has the time traveling cuff—or whatever it is, you stopped trying to understand it after he explained it the second time. “A fully functioning time-space GPS.”

Steve smiles.

“I just want peace.” Tony holds up two fingers. “Turns out resentment is corrosive, and I hate it.”

“Me, too.” Steve says, looking at you. “What are you doing?”

“I’m here to help, obviously.” You give him a bright smile. “I can be useful, sometimes.”

“We got one shot at getting these stones, but I gotta tell you my priorities.” Tony says. “Bring back what we lost, I hope, yes. Keep what I found, I have to, at all costs. And maybe not die trying, would be nice.”

Steve nods again, holding out his hand. “Sounds like a deal.”

Tony takes it, they shake on it. You let out air through your nose, shaking your head as you wander away, staying close to watch Tony open the trunk of the car. He pulls out Steve’s shield, dumping the blanket and stuffed animal back into the car. 

“Tony, I don’t know.” Steve mutters.

“Why? He made it for you.” He flips it around. “Plus, honestly, I have to get it out of the garage before Morgan takes it sledding.”

Steve takes it, holding it across his arm. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Will you keep that a little quiet? Didn’t bring one for the whole team.” He pulls out a red case, reaching up with his other hand to press the button that closes the trunk for him. “We are getting the whole team, yeah?”

“We’re working on that right now.” Steve says. 

“Cool.” You turn around to walk to the doors. “Until we have everyone here, I will be sitting on my ass and doing exactly nothing.”

“Not very different from what you usually do, right?” Tony asks behind you.

You give him a sarcastic smile.

—

“Okay, so the how works.” Steve begins. “Now we gotta figure out the when and the where.”

There’s a set of three screens he’s standing by, each one showing two stones. It’s sorted into detail by what they look like, what they can be contained in, what building they were originally found in, and who might have them in their possession. 

Your eyes are set on the most obvious one, the Time Stone. You and the others already pretty much agreed that you’ll be going after it. You know the most about it, after spending years of being around Stephen.

“Almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones.”

“Or substitute the word ‘encounter’ for ‘damn near been killed’ by one of the six Infinity Stones.” Tony says, standing on the other side. There’s a coffee cup in one of his hands. 

“Well, I haven’t, but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.” Scott says.

“Regardless, we only have enough Pym Particles for one round-trip each.” Bruce tells you, walking around the back of Scott’s chair. “And these stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

“Our history.” Tony emphasizes. “So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in, yeah?”

“Which means we have to pick our targets.” Clint’s got his eyes on the ground. 

“Correct.”

“So, let’s start with the Aether.” Steve says, eyes set on a specific target. “Thor, what do you know?” 

Thor, who has since gained weight, forgotten how to shower, and grown a beard, sits in the corner of the room, slouched as deeply as possible in the chair. There’s a beer in one of his hands, the other rests on his stomach. The pair of sunglasses on his face prohibits you from seeing where his eyes are.

Everyone turns to look at him, waiting.

“Is he asleep?” Natasha asks.

“No, no. I”m pretty sure he’s dead.” Rhodes says.

Tony lets out a sigh, shaking his head. He slaps a hand on his shoulder, which jumpstarts Thor. “Rise and shine, buddy. What do you know about the Aether?”

Thor groans, “I was just about to get up.”

“Right.” 

He gets to his feet, wanting to the front. “Uh, where to start?” He pulls off the sunglasses, holding them in his hand. “Um… The Aether, firstly, is not a stone. Someone called it a stone before.” He points at Steve briefly. “Um, it’s more of an angry sludge sort of a thing… so someone’s gonna need to amend that and stop saying that.” He tilts his head back to squirt eye drops into his eyes.

Your mouth falls open slightly, watching him do this. Is this what you looked like to everyone else when you freaked out that first year? Of course, you were the opposite of whatever Thor is representing, but still. His coping mechanisms are a hell of a lot worse than yours were… you think.

Clint comes beside you, pulling a chair out to sit down.

“Here’s an interesting story, though, about the Aether. My grandfather, many years ago, had to hide the stone from the Dark Elves.” He makes a ghostly sound, laughing in the middle. “Scary beings. So, Jane, actually—” The middle screen changes to show her face. “Oh, there she is. Yeah, so Jane was a—was an old flame of mine.”

You rub your face, letting out a sigh while you tilt your head back to look at the ceiling. These past few days already have been long, while you waited for them to design the time traveling suits, build the platform, and send Clint into the future as a test run. You can’t imagine what today and tomorrow are going to be like, if this is how it’s starting.

“You know, she stuck her hand inside a rock this one time and then the Aether stuck itself inside her and she became very, very sick. And so I had to take her to Asgard, which is where I’m from and we had to try and fix her.” Thor continues.

You swivel in your chair, facing Natasha. She raises her eyebrows, and you grab her notepad, dragging it in front of you. Clint offers up a pen on the other side, you take it, writing down that Jane Foster has the Aether in Asgard. 

“We were dating at the time, you see and I got to introduce her to my mother,” He’s waving around the sunglasses. “Who’s dead and, um… Oh, you know, Jane and I aren’t even dating anymore, so.” He sniffs. “Yes, these things happen, though. You know? Nothing lasts forever. The only thing that—”

Tony goes up to Thor, grabbing him. “Why don’t you come sit down?”

“I’m not done yet.” He pushes Tony away. “The only thing that is permanent in life is impermanence.”

Tony claps twice. “Awesome. Eggs? Breakfast?”

“No. I’d like a Bloody Mary.” Thor smiles.

You take in a deep breath, “Can I get one, too, then?”

Tony looks at you, “Don’t encourage this.”

“Just something to get me through the rest of the day.” You reason, a teasing smile hinting at your lips.

He squints at you, directing Thor to sit back down in one of the chairs. “Let’s take a break, we’ll regroup at dinner.”

The group breaks apart, eager to get out of this room and away from Thor. You stay where you’re seated, and Tony doesn’t move, either. Thor seems disinterested, turning the can of beer on the table. Once the door has shut, you can’t contain your laughter.

They look at you, waiting for you to let them in on what you find so funny. You wave your hand, turning around in the chair to bury your face in your hands. You forget just how ridiculous this team can be at times. It’s more than just crime fighting, it’s camaraderie. 

“Okay,” You breathe, facing them again. “Thor, can you give me a year where Jane was in Asgard when she was infected with the Aether?”

“Oh, sure.” Thor says, he’s composed himself. “It was twenty-thirteen. It won’t mean anything unless it’s in the Stone form, though.”

You hum, flipping the page over, writing down everyone that is planning to help. Next to Thor’s name, you put ‘R’ for the Reality Stone, making him in charge of that. He’ll need someone to go with him, of course, because he’s in no state to have this big of a responsibility, but you’ll figure that out later on. The point is that Asgard was his home, he’ll know how to navigate it.

Beside your name, you write ‘T’ for the time stone. No matter what the others say, you won’t let them take this one from you. If they want to help you, you’ll drag someone along. As far as you’re concerned, this will be under control.

“What are you doing?” Tony asks, coming around the table.

“Sorting this out.” You murmur, flipping back to the original page. You begin to write what you know about the Time Stone, which is more than what Thor could give you about the Reality. “Those who know the most about the stones should be in charge of them, I figured you don’t really think otherwise.”

You look at him, he makes a face, nodding to agree with you. 

“What are you thinking about for dinner? Takeout will be on me.” Tony says, crossing his arms.

“Burgers.” Thor says, “A nice juicy burger.”

You make a face, “I’ve been craving Chinese lately.”

A few hours later, after everyone has finished what they were doing with the suits or the portal, you find yourself back in the room. Your suggestion on Chinese food was fairly popular with the others, so Tony took the order and had the food delivered to the Facility.

“All right, Ratchet, go for it.” Tony motions once everyone is settled in their seats.

“Rocket.” He corrects, giving him a look. “Quill said he stole the Power Stone from Morag.” The screen lights up purple, you set your fork down to write what he says into the notepad.

“Is that a person?” Bruce asks, smacking on his ice cream.

“No, Morag’s a planet.” Rocket says, standing on the table. “Quill was a person.”

“Like a planet? Like in outer space?” Scott asks from the other end of the table.

“Oh, look.” Rocket places his hand on Scott’s head, beginning to give him a head rub. “It’s like a little puppy, all happy and everything. Do you wanna go to space? You wanna go to space, puppy?” Scott pulls his head away, unamused. “I’ll take you to space.”

“Have you been to Morag?” You ask, looking up from the paper. “You or Nebula?”

“No.” Rocket says, turning around to face you.

“I haven’t, either.” She shakes her head. “I believe it’s kept in a temple.”

You blow a piece of hair out of your face. “Okay…”

You flip the page, finding her name on the list, writing ‘P’. You chew on the inside of your lip, thinking. When you look at Tony, you find his eyes on you. 

“What’s the problem?”

“We’re going to have to go in pairs, anyway, right?” You ask, “What if…”

You write ‘R’ next to Rocket, knowing that he and Thor have worked together in the past, during the first fight with Thanos. They went together to Nidavellir, where Thor got Stormbreaker. They clearly get along fine. As for Nebula, lately she’s been working with Rhodes. That’s why you decide to pair them together.

Tony tilts his head, “I don’t see why not.”

It’s the following day when you finally get time to talk about the Stones again, since the conversation on Morag was thrown out the window when technicalities came into play. The group of you called it a night when Thor started talking about Jane again.

“Thanos found the Soul Stone on Vormir.” Nebula murmurs from the front. 

“What is Vormir?” Natasha asks, holding the notepad. She’s been up all night writing notes, building off of what you’ve already got in there. When she offered to take it from you, you didn’t argue. 

“A dominion of death at the very center of celestial existence.” She says, voice lowering. “It’s where Thanos murdered my sister.”

There’s a moment of silence between the few of you. Not everyone could make it to this time around. Tony opted out because he decided off the bat that he didn’t want to be involved with anything other than the Space Stone—the tesseract—because he believes that’ll be an easy grab, too.

Steve sighs.

“Not it.” Scott mutters.

This causes several people to look at him.

The meeting room is trashed two days later, there’s papers scattered across the room, as well as folders. There’s books opened to certain pages, laying open on the floor to be easily picked up and resumed when needed. Tony and Natasha lay on the table, with Bruce being on the floor, considering he’s permanently part-Hulk now.

You sit in the recliner in the corner, reading through all the notes you’ve gathered thus far, trying to put together a fairly decent timeline. 

“That Time Stone guy.” Natasha finally breaks the silence.

“Doctor Strange.” Bruce says, you look up from your notes, clicking the pen.

“Stephen Strange.” You murmur.

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?” She asks.

“Ear-nose-throat meets rabbit-from-hat.” Tony says, he’s turned on his side, rubbing his face.

“He was a neurosurgeon, that’s why he likes being called Doctor.” You tell her. “He worked at the Metro-General hospital.”

“Nice place in the Village, though.” Bruce says.

“Yeah, on Sullivan Street?” Tony says back.

Bruce hums. “No…”

“Bleecker Street.” You correct.

“Wait, he lived in New York?” Natasha asks, no longer spinning the pen in her hand.

“Yeah—”

“No, he lived in Toronto.” Tony says.

“Uh, yeah, on Bleecker and Sullivan.” Bruce says.

“Have you been listening to anything?” Tony asks Natasha.

She holds her hand up. “Guys, if you pick the right year, there are three stones in New York.”

Bruce sits up, “Shut the front door.”

You nod, forcing the recliner back to its original position. “Space, Mind and Time, huh?”

“Yeah.” She says. “All we need to do is figure out who’s getting which one.”

An emergency team meeting is called. The four of you move to a different room to be in, because the last one is trashed. The others begin to trickle in steadily, all asking questions on what happened.

It isn’t until the last person comes inside, do you begin. “Everyone, this has gotten a whole lot easier.”

Tony nods, walking up to the projection. At the top, it’s titled ‘Time Heist’, courtesy of Scott, who’s attached to the idea of it. The sections below are broken into three. The first one being New York, which has Time, Space and Mind. The second one is Asgard, which obviously holds the Reality Stone. The third one is Morag / Vormir, for the Power and Soul Stones.

“We have divided the teams.” Tony says. “For team Asgard, we have Thor and Rocket,  Morag will be Nebula and Rhodes, and Vormir is Natasha and Clint. As for New York, it will be the rest of us.” He turns around to face you. “(Y/n) has volunteered to grab the Time Stone, Bruce will go with her. Which leaves Scott, Steve and I to get the Space and Mind Stone, because it’ll be in the same buildings at the same time.”

“All right. We have a plan.” Steve says, crossing the room to stand in front of the projection. “Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

You stand up, walking to stand next to Steve. You grab his shoulder, making him turn to you. “Now we can get this son of a bitch.”

—

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us.” Steve begins. “We lost friends. We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones. Get them back. One round-trip each. No mistakes, no do-overs. Most os uf are going somewhere we know. That doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. 

“Be careful.” He says. “Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives, and we’re gonna win. Whatever it takes. Good luck.” He backs off.

“He’s pretty good at that.” Rocket says.

“Right?” Scott looks at him.

“All right. You heard the man. Stroke those keys, Jolly Green.” Tony tells Bruce. 

“Trackers engaged.”

Clint holds out his hand, looking at the Milano—Rocket’s spaceship—which has been shrunk to make for easier transportation.

“You promise to bring that back in one piece, right?” Rocket asks.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Clint dismisses him. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“As promises go, that was pretty lame.” Rocket crosses his arms.

“It’s Clint, everything about him is lame.” You say, and when Clint looks at you, you give him our sweetest smile. “Isn’t that right?”

“Be quiet.” He tells you.

Bruce comes up the stairs to the platform, stopping to stand right next to you. He slaps his wrist, causing the platform to begin beeping. You take in a deep breath, tilting your head from side to side.

“See ya in a minute.” Natasha smiles.

The helmet comes over your face, you look down, finding that the ground has opened up, sucking you inside. You travel through… you’re not entirely sure how to describe it. At first, it’s a bright tunnel of color that quickly submerges you in blue, traveling through a molecule and into a white light.

You land on your feet in an alleyway, the street in front of you is covered in debris and overturned cars. The time traveling suit disappears, leaving you in a pair of relatively normal clothes for this time. The sound of screaming, sirens and the alien beings moving around and shooting is slightly overwhelming for a couple seconds.

Steve marches forward. “All right, we all have our assignments. Two stones uptown, one stone down.” He must decide the coast is clear, turning around to come back your way. “Stay low. Keep an eye on the clock.”

Hulk roars, you look around Steve to watch as he lifts a car, smashing it into the alien, clearly killing him. Another one comes to save his comrade, but turns around and runs at the sight of past Hulk plucking a tire off the car and throwing it at a streetlight. Unsatisfied with his original smash, he jumps on the dismembered car a couple times, before stomping away.

Bruce covers his face, embarrassed.

“Maybe smash a few things along the way.” Steve suggests.

“I think it’s gratuitous, but whatever.” Bruce says, ripping off his tank top, walking to the street. 

You shake your head at him, rolling your eyes. You begin to walk away, backwards. “This shouldn’t take long. Are you sure you don’t want my help with the other two stones?”

“We’ve got it covered, (Y/n).” Steve gives you a hard nod. 

“If you say so.” You tilt your head, before following after Bruce, who’s lazily punching cars.

You walk behind him, amused at the way he tries to mimic how he was in the past. He was incredibly, unnecessarily destructive, wasn’t he? You can’t imagine the amount of things he tore apart or broke solely because he could.

“I think we’ll travel faster if we take the roofs.” He finally says, stopping.

“Why do you think that?” You ask, catching up with him. 

He opens his mouth, letting out a sigh. “I don’t want to do this the entire way.”

“Well, unfortunately, you don’t have a baby carrier on you, so you don’t really have an option.” You shrug, “Just enjoy the walk.”

“I can’t.”

“Then don’t break shit, I don’t care.” You laugh, “It’s only a few minutes from here.”

He looks disappointed at your indifference, but he admits that you’re right. Bleecker Street and Sullivan isn’t that far when he’s listening to your directions on the quickest shortcuts. However, you have a problem when the front door to the Sanctum doesn’t open.

Your mouth pops open, tongue clicking. You place your hands on your hips, tilting your head back to see the roof of the building. Your face smooths over when you see orange magic shoot at an alien, causing it to explode.

“Get us up there.” You tell Bruce, it’s a command.

“Sure.” He says.

You allow him to pick you up, setting you on his shoulder. You struggle to balance while he scales the building, but it’s worth it the second you reach the top. He starts for the door that’ll lead you inside of the Sanctum, you don’t move from where you stand, eyes on the lady standing feet away.

A sinking feeling of disappointment hits.

“I’d be careful going that way. We just had the floors waxed.” She tells Bruce before he can open the door.

She’s British, she has an accent, and she’s bald. The robes she’s wearing is a shade of mustard yellow. And she has the Eye of Agamotto around her neck, the same thing that Stephen had in his possession. The Time Stone is right here.

The longer you stare at her, the more you believe you’ve seen her before, or at least heard of her. You go down the three steps, going to join her. You refuse to take your eyes off of her.

“Yeah, I’m looking for Doctor Strange.” Bruce says.

The lady lifts her head slightly. “You’re about five years too early.” She steps away, toward the edge of the roof. “Stephen Strange is currently performing surgery—” she lifts her hand to motion, “about twenty blocks that way.” She stops walking. “What do you want from him?”

“The Time Stone.” You tell her. 

“Ah!” She looks down at the Eye. “I’m afraid not.”

“Sorry, but I wasn’t asking.” Bruce says, stepping over the metal bar to walk toward her.

“You don’t want to do this.” She warns him.

“Bruce, I think we should listen to her.” You tell him.

“Ah, you’re right, I don’t. But I need that stone and I don’t have time to debate it.” He says, hand reaching to grab it.

She slams the heel of her hand into his chest, Bruce falls to the ground, unconscious. You stare with an open mouth for a brief second, and then you snap it shut, looking at her.

Her eyes are already on you, head tilted. “Are you going to take it by force, too?”

“No.”

She smiles. “Let’s start over, shall we?”

It hits you after this, you squint at her. “You’re the one that Stephen and Wong talked about all the time. What is it—?” You wonder aloud, eyes drifting as you think. “Ancient One, isn’t that what they called you?” When you look at her again, she’s got her eyebrows raised. “You’re the Sorcerer Supreme.”

“You’re wise.” She says. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).” You tell her, she begins to think about it. “I’m not a student of yours, I’m just dating one. We need the Time Stone, it’s urgent.”

“For what, exactly?”

“We need it so we can bring back half of the population of every living being.” The words are grave, her facial expression changes. “We’re from eleven years in the future. And this is the only solution we have left. We have teams gathering the other five Infinity Stones, and when we bring them together in our time, we’ll be able to fix the damage that was done.”

“You want me to hand it over?” She asks you. “No.”

She begins to walk away, heading for the door. You follow after her. “Please, you don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you, (Y/n).” Her pace doesn’t slow. “If I give up the Time Stone to help your reality, I’m dooming my own.”

“With all due respect, all right…” Bruce’s voice echoes, you turn to look behind you, finding him in his original body, not the half-Hulk, half-Bruce one. Except, he’s see-through, a phantom, a ghost. He joins you two up the stairs, jogging in front of her to make her stop. “I’m not sure the science really supports that.”

With him standing between her and the door, she humors you. She reaches forward, yanking out an orange line right in the middle of them. It stretches far between the blocks of New York on both sides. 

“The Infinity Stones create what you experience as the flow of time.” The stones create a ring around the orange. She reaches forward to flick the Time Stone. “Remove one of the stones and that flow splits.” You watch as a black line branches off from where the ring of stones is, creating its own path through the air. “Now, this may benefit your reality but my new one, not so much.

“In this new branch reality without our chief weapon against the forces of darkness our world would be overrun. Millions will suffer. So, tell me, Doctor. Can your science prevent all that?” 

Bruce is rubbing his hands together, “No, but we can erase it. Because once we’re done with the stones we can return each one to its own timeline at the moment it was taken. So, chronologically—” he pulls the Time Stone out of the air, placing it back in the ring, remedifying the split timeline. “In that reality, it never left.”

She turns around, walking away. “Yes, but you’re leaving out the most important part.” She stops at the end of the roof. “In order to return the stones, you have to survive.”

“We will.” You tell her. “I promise.”

“I can’t risk this reality on a promise. It’s the duty of the Sorcerer Supreme to protect the Time Stone.”

“I know.” You murmur. “But Stephen had no choice but to give it to Thanos.” 

She stares at you, “What did you say?”

“Stephen gave the stone to Thanos.”

“Willingly?” She asks.

“Yes.” Bruce says behind you.

“Why?” 

“We lost the battle so that we could win the war.” You tell her. “It’s what had to be done.”

“I see.” She murmurs after a long moment of silence. She reaches over Bruce’s shoulder, summoning his body. 

Bruce returns, back to being giant and green. You watch as she bends her fingers, moving her hands apart, unlocking the Eye. Inside sits the stone, she pulls it out, you cup your hand.

She doesn’t drop it quite yet. “Strange is meant to be the best of us.”

“He is.” You assure her. “He handed it over for a reason.”

“I fear you might be right.” She places the stone in your hand.

You’ve only held it one time before, when Stephen had to fix the Eye of Agamotto. It’s meant to be unbreakable with his spells, but there’s always an exception. He saw how much it bothered you, seeing the Time Stone out of place, and elected you to hold it while he repaired the Eye. 

When you told him you were afraid you’d break it, he said that provides more comfort to him, because it means that you’ll be careful with it.

“Thank you.” Bruce says.

She steps forward, hands over yours. “I’m counting on you, (Y/n). We all are.”

“I’ll bring it back.” You tell her. 

She lets you and Bruce go through the Sanctum to get to the street, not wanting you to crawl back down the building. As soon as you’ve stepped foot back on the sidewalk, you pass the Time Stone over to Bruce, “Here, you take it back.”

His face twists. “We’re going back together. Don’t you want to hold onto it?”

You shake your head. “No, there’s someone I have to see first.”

“You can’t, (Y/n), if you see Stephen, you’ll ruin the timeline.”

“That’s not who I’m going to.” You wave him off. “I won’t talk to her. It’ll be a few minutes.”

He nods, holding out his arm to type in the present day’s date. You watch as he warps into the air, disappearing. You begin to walk away, reaching up to touch your earpiece, “This is (Y/n) to Tony, Bruce has taken the stone back. How are we looking for the other two?”

Tony sighs in your ear. “There’s been an issue, Loki took the Tesseract and disappeared.”

Your feet pause, but quickly go back to walking, because you don’t have much time to be out here. “Okay, what’s the plan? You don’t have enough particles.”

“Cap and I are going back further in time, we’ll be able to get particles and the stone in the same place. We’re sending Scott back to the present. What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna visit someone. You two be careful.”

“We will.” Steve’s voice comes over. “Remember the plan, don’t interact with anyone.”

“I know.” You tell him.

It isn’t that hard for you to find young (Y/n), mostly because of the shredded asphalt and the decomposing bodies that lay on top of it. You follow this careless path, and divert from it to go through an alleyway, where it leads you right to where she is, standing a few feet away.

There’s a smile on her face, that dissolves into concentration, as she gets on the ground, hunching over to pull more of the dead out of the Earth. You remember this, it’s moments after Tony found you and told you to draw in as many of the Chitauri as you possibly could—as long as you could handle it.

You were so young back then, you had absolutely no idea what you were doing. Or that this would eventually lead you to becoming a hero, yourself. That day, you took a leap of faith, and it completely changed the trajectory of your life.

If you hadn’t done this, who knows where you’d be right now. If life would have treated you any differently. If you still would’ve joined the Avengers, just a few years later down the line. Or if you’d ever even get to meet Stephen.

It doesn’t matter, because you don’t think you’d ever tell your past self to change her mind. 

“You’ve got this.” You say to her, eyes flickering between the time system and her, where she’s fighting. “Just keep pushing, you’re on the right path.”

As you type the date in, you watch as she looks up from the ground, eyes landing on you. You submit the time, and just before you leave, you hold a hand up to wave at her. 

You’re sucked through the warp, as you travel backwards through the tunnel you took to get here. And despite leaving at different times, it joins you with the rest of your group. You arrive at the Avengers Facility at the same time.

The helmet falls back at the same time it does for everyone else, the suit following directly after.

“Did we get ‘em all?” Bruce asks.

Rhodes laughs. “Are you telling me this actually worked?”

Clint falls to his knees, staring off in front of him. You know this look, something’s happened. Your eyes try to switch to Natasha, hoping that she’ll offer an explanation, but she’s absent.

“Oh, Clint.” You murmur.

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Bruce asks.

Clint’s eyes are watery, his lips turning further down. There’s a long moment of silence between all of you, as the news settles in. You were warned by Nebula that the way Thanos got the stone was through losing his daughter. You were all hoping that she was being difficult and her actions got her killed, not… this.

Bruce falls to his knees, slamming his fist into the platform.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Shit.”

—

“All right, the glove’s ready.” Rocket says, adjusting the fingers. “Question is, who’s gonna snap their freakin’ fingers?”

“I’ll do it.” Thor says, coming over.

“Excuse me?” Tony asks, turning around.

“It’s okay.” He steps closer to the glove.

“Stop, stop.” Tony reaches to grab Thor at the same time Steve does. “Slow down.”

“Thor. Just wait.” Steve tells him. “We haven’t decided who’s gonna put that on yet.”

“I’m sorry. WHat, we’re all just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?”

“We should at least discuss it.” Scott says.

“Look, sitting here staring at the thing is not gonna bring everybody back.” He brings his fingers to his thumbs on both hands. “I’m the strongest Avenger, okay? So, this responsibility falls upon me. It’s my duty.”

“Normally, you’re right.” Tony steps in front of him. “It’s not about that.”

“It’s not that.” He shushes him. “Stop it! Just let me. Just let me do it.” He whispers. “JUst let me do something good. Something right.”

“Look, it’s not just the fact that that glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent. I’m telling you. You’re in no condition.” Tony tells him.

“What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?” His hands are on Tony’s shoulders.

“Cheez Whiz?” Rhodes suggests, you snort.

Thor is unamused, holding out a finger to quiet him. “Lightning.”

“Yeah.”

“Lightning.” Thor repeats.

“LIghtning won’t help you, pal.” Bruce says, finally going forward. “It’s gotta be me.” Thor looks at the ground, Tony moves away. “You saw what those stones did to Thanos. They almost killed him. None of you could survive.” He stops in front of the glove.

“How do we know you will?” Steve asks.

“We don’t. But the radiation’s mostly gamma. It’s like… uh, I was made for this.”

“If this is what you want.” You say, backing away.

Bruce nods, reaching into the case to pull out the glove. 

“Good to go, yeah?” Tony asks.

“Let’s do it.”

“Okay, remember, everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, you’re just bringing them back to now, today. Don’t change anything from the last five years.” Tony says.

“Got it.”

Your suit comes to cover your body, preparing for the worst. You shuffle behind Tony and Clint, where Tony brings up a shield as another form of protection. 

“Friday, do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol, will ya?”

You watch as the skylight slowly covers with metal, as well as all exits, including doors and windows. That way, if anything goes wrong, the only people that’ll be affected are those who are standing in this room.

“Everybody comes home.” Bruce mutters, slowly pulling the glove on. The machinery adjusts to fit his hand, rather than Tony’s. When it secures, it sends a visible shock up his arm, all six Infinity Stones begin to glow.

Bruce drops to his knee, groaning, veins popping out of his forehead. He grabs the glove with his free hand, watching as it transforms. 

“Take it off. Take it off!” Thor shouts.

“No, wait.” Steve holds out his hand. “Bruce, are you okay?”

Bruce throws his head back, the fabric on his arm begins to burn up, the colors of the stones are beneath his skin, traveling up the underside of his jaw. He’s in pain.

“Talk to me, Banner.” Tony says.

“I’m okay.” He breathes, as the stones begin to settle. “I’m okay.” He pants heavily, slowly lifting his hand. His green skin is now charred, black, glowing red underneath. Like bubbling lava.

He screams, preparing his fingers, and then snaps.

The glove falls off in an instant, Bruce unconscious on the floor, arm is sizzling.

“Bruce!” Steve crouches down next to him.

Clint kicks the glove away, Tony joins Steve. “Don’t move him.” The healing solution comes from his fingers, coating Bruce’s arm in white. 

“Did it work?” Bruce asks, grabbing Steve’s arm.

“We’re not sure.” Thor says. “It—it’s okay.”

The metal sheets begin to lift, doors opening, allowing you to leave. Scott wanders away, and so does Clint a second later.

“Can you feel anything, (Y/n)?” Steve asks, looking at you.

You suck in a breath, closing your eyes, concentrating hard. You discovered a couple years ago that there wasn’t a need for the dramatics if you actually put some of your own energy in to pull some out. You sacrifice a little of yourself, digging deep, feeling around for the same heavy weight that there’s been for years.

“I don’t…” You murmur, head turning to the side, eyebrows drawing in. “I can’t say for sure.” You open your eyes. “It might be the building, it works better when I’m outside. I could go out—”

“Don’t bother.” Clint murmurs, picking up his vibrating phone, pressing it to his ear. “Honey.”

“Guys…” Scott breathes. “I think it worked.”

A smile breaks through when you make eye contact with Tony, finding your happiness mirrored onto him. 

You did it.

You touch the ring on your thumb.

A blast of hot air throws you across the room, slamming you into the cement wall, head cracking against it. An explosion shakes the ground. A wave of dizziness hits you as you reach to touch the spot on your forehead, fingers coated in blood.

One second, you’re staring at your friends, and the next, the building is collapsing. The ground gives way beneath you, a scream leaves your mouth as you begin to slide, knowing full well that the Facility goes hundreds of feet underground.

The suit comes to cover your body as your fingers slip from the cement. Your stomach flies to your throat, lodging itself there as you begin to fall with the chunks of rock and debris.

Another rocket hits nearby, as your body is engulfed in fire. 

When you wake, a sharp stabbing feeling flies through your abdomen. You reach to grab it, hands coming in contact with a steel rod. It’s wet, but not from your blood. The water from the plumbing system and the lake nearby rain down on you, causing sparks from severed electric wires to zap.

“(Y/n)?” You hear Bruce ask. “Are you with us?”

You struggle to breathe, hearing every breath enter and leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, head resting back. “I’m stuck.”

“I know, we’ll get Rhodey and Rocket over there to help you.” He says.

“No, Bruce.” You gasp, wincing. “I’ve been impaled.”

The sound of rushing water fills the air. You lift your head, eyes searching from the direction it’s coming from. It sweeps through the rubble, beginning to fill the hole you’re in.

“Guys!” The panic in your voice alerts Rhodes, “Help!”

Rocket gets to his feet, coming in your direction. “Oh, no.”

“Mayday, Mayday! Does anybody copy? We’re on the lower level. It’s flooding!” Rhodes says into the earpiece. “We are drowning! Does anybody copy? Mayday!”

“I don’t think we can get you out of this one.” Rocket says once he sees you. “Bruce, any chance you can come over here?”

“Not really.” He grunts.

You take careful breaths, trying to relax. “If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to drown.”

Rocket shakes his head, hands up. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“You don’t have any tools?” You ask, “To cut the bar in half?” He doesn’t respond, you close your eyes. “Fuck.”

“It’s filling up fast!” Rhodes shouts.

“Move back.” You tell him, he listens.

You grip onto the steel bar, “Come to me.” You murmur, the ground begins to shake under you, causing the pain to heighten. You grit your teeth, wanting to stop. “Come here.” You order.

The ground splits somewhere, the cement you’re laying on dips to the side, making you move. You resist the urge to throw your head back, trying to avoid a concussion.

“Oh, what the—” Rocket lets out, “What is that?”

Through half-open lids, you watch as a few of the dead come to crawl out of the rubble. They get to their feet, and without any other word, come to rescue you from where you are. The issue is that they aren’t so gentle, when they grab you by your shoulders and hips, pulling you free. 

The insides of your body burns, as you bite back a scream. They drop you on your feet, and with the weight all falling onto your wound, you stumble forward and onto your knees, hand wrapped around the area.

“If you could do that—have them take the rubble.” Rocket motions to Bruce. “So he can get us out of here.”

“They’ll crumble beneath the weight.” You tell him, the dead grab your elbows, forcing you to your feet. “They’re not good for much besides fighting.”

“You can’t tell them to find a way out and we follow them?” Rocket suggests.

“We can’t leave Bruce behind.” You shake your head. “And it’s not guaranteed that it’ll work. They can lead us to a dead-end. They aren’t all-knowing.”

The roof is beginning to fall, Bruce shuddering beneath it. The water is coming through faster, you shuffle to stand with Rhodes, Rocket climbs up as far as he can. You tilt your head back, water creeping up your chest. The dead that were with you are now floating on their backs, no longer alive.

“See you on the other side, man.” Rhodes says.

Rocket whimpers, not liking the idea of dying. You pant, tears in your eyes. You’re going to die before you’re able to see Stephen again. For the past five years, you’ve held onto the idea that it could be possible. And now he’s back, somewhere, but not here.

“(Y/n), stop.” Rhodes warns you.

You cry, the water reaching the back of your head. “Get me out of here!”

“You need to breathe, you can’t hyperventilate under the water.” He says, it’s flooding your ears.

“I know.” You gasp. “I know.”

You take a deep breath in right as the water covers your face. For the first few seconds, you think that it’s fine. And then you reach out, grabbing onto Rhodes’s arm, squeezing tightly. You feel his hand over yours, trying to provide comfort.

The burning in your lungs begins in the second minute, pressure tight in your skull, adding to the lightheadedness. You want to open your mouth and suck in, despite knowing that you’ll fill your lungs with water. It’ll be quicker than fighting this, right?

An object surrounds you, bumping you to the side. Your eyes open suddenly, struggling to see through the murky water on what’s moved you. For a second, you think that it’s Bruce, until you find him joining you. The water current from the other side brings the four of you closer together, as what you assume to be the roof closes in on you.

But then the ground comes up, uneven, and you’re lifted into the air, water running. You gasp, desperate for air, coughing out the water. You drop to your knees, pushing your hair out of your face.

“It’s Scott!” Rhodes shouts.

He must grow through the Facility, because all you can hear is the concrete breaking to pieces around you. He opens his hand when it’s safe, the others jumping off, while you carefully take your time, eyes adjusting to the situation in front of you.

Thanos is here. There’s a giant ship in the air off to the left, with the Chitauri and the Leviathan’s coming out of it. Just like they had eleven years ago when Loki came to New York. 

On the right side, is where you find several armies coming together to help. The army from Wakanda, led by T’Challa, the Asgardians, following Valkyrie and sorcerers, preparing behind Wong. And more, ones you don’t recognize, coming through the portals.

With one hand over your side, you hobble out to solid ground, eyes on Thanos. Your upper lip begins to twitch into a snarl, but it’s more for the laughter that catches in your throat.

When you come to a stop, you level your breathing as much as possible. You’ve brought back large armies in the past, but those will compare nothing to what you’re able to do.

The dark energy comes through your feet, snaking its way up your legs. You roll your shoulders back, feeling it wrap around your chest, alleviating the pain in your abdomen enough for you to remove your hand.

“Let’s play.” You smile, swirling your hand in the air. At first slowly, but growing faster, rock trembling, Earth reacting to what you’re demanding.

A hole appears, ground caving in on itself, creating a pit with no visible bottom. You shuffle to stand over it, peering inside. A cold gust of air blows your wet hair out of your face, goosebumps covering your arms.

“Come to me.” You demand, “All of you.”

There’s whispering, and sounds of hissing overlapping each other from deep below. They grow louder as they rise to the top. At the sight of the first undead climbing the walls, you back up to give them room. This is a trick you’ve been practicing for years, hoping you’d get the chance to use it here.

“Got anything for us, (Y/n)?” You hear in your earpiece, it’s Tony.

“They’re coming.” You tell him. “And mine will make the others seem like a joke.”

They crawl out, coming to their feet, walking forward. At first, a few at a time, not wanting to overwhelm the area, or anything. Then they begin to come in crowds, eager to get out of where they’ve been hiding this entire time. You walk away, watching as they come out of every direction they can.

As the numbers multiply and grow, Steve steps forward. “Avengers!” He holds out his hand, Mjolnir flying to it. “Assemble.”

Thor shouts first, the armies following as they rush forward. Yours, not quite yet, waiting for a command. The fun thing about the dead is that there’s so many of them, people will never stop dying. Which means that when you send the ones standing off, more will continue. A never-ending supply.

“Kill them!” You shout, pointing at Thanos’s army.

This is when they move at a steady pace, not feeling the need to run. You stay where you stand, supervising the hole to ensure that a great amount comes from it, before you point straight down the middle. 

“Come here, Arzorath.” The flow of dead stops to let this creature come out, five times the size of you, built like a monster. As soon as he’s out, the dead begin again. You grab his grey skin, looking up at him. “You stay here, and you make sure this doesn’t stop.”

He grunts, giving you a solid nod.

With that, you turn to walk into the fight, to the center, where Thanos is going to be. You should be afraid of walking through this crowd, but with the amount of undead that are spread throughout, they jump to protect you if any danger arises. 

There’s explosions, the sounds of weapons clashing against one another. You see several laser beams shoot through the air to hit their target. There’s billows of black smoke, indicating several fires.

“Cap!” You hear Clint’s voice in your ear. “What do you want me to do with this damn thing?”

Steve grunts. “Get those stones as far away as possible!”

“No!” Bruce shouts. “We need to get ‘em back where they came from.”

“I made a promise to the Sorcerer Supreme that I’d get it back. I intend on keeping it.” You tell them.

“No way to get ‘em back. Thanos destroyed the quantum tunnel.” Tony says.

“Hold on!” You watch as Scott disappears, likely shrunken back to his regular size. “That wasn’t our only time machine.”

The sound of a horn playing Spanish music makes you turn your head. 

“Anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Steve asks.

“Yes! But you’re not gonna like where it’s parked!” Valkyrie shouts, she’s in the air, riding on a pegasus. 

“Scott, how long you need to get that thing working?” Tony asks.

“Uh, maybe ten minutes.”

“Get it started. We’ll get the stones to you.” Steve says.

“We’re on it, Cap.” Hope says—Scott’s partner.

“Do you need me to clear a path for you?” You ask, “Because it won’t be that hard.”

“No, I can fly him there.” Hope tells you.

You continue through the battle, coming upon a patch where there is no one. You climb a pile of rocks, surveying the area to find Thanos, fighting Wanda. She’s got him stuck in the air, squeezing him with her magic.

That’s when the first blue light hits the ground, causing a blast, killing a dozen of your dead. It’s not only one, though, as more following, firing straight into the crowd without any prior aim. Thanos doesn’t care who he hits, as long as he doesn’t lose this fight.

You watch as the sorcerers cast shields, holding them above their heads, working together to cover a small part of the field. You don’t move for shelter, holding your stance. You glance over your shoulder to find Arzorath, still guarding the hole as you instructed him to.

“Help, somebody help!” Peter shouts.

“Hey, Queens, heads up!” Steve says back. 

Mjolnir flies through the air, you can see it from where you are. You reach up, pressing the ear piece. “Anyone have eyes on Thanos?”

“He’s by the van!” Scott shouts back, “I need backup!”

You sigh out your nose, jumping down from the rocks, heading straight into the fight once again. “Arzorath!” You shout, looking over your shoulder. He raises his head. “More!”

He raises his arms, throwing them down as he grabs a chunk from the ground, ripping it out and throwing it into the crowd of Thanos’s troops. By widening the hole, it creates a bigger flow. In seconds, you see the difference, as they rush to follow you, and then past you to create a path.

The blasts from the sky become more frequent, like hail. At least half of the dead come to jump at you to protect you, bringing you to the ground. They hold you there, refusing to let you move, until it suddenly stops. 

In the silence that comes after, you’re pulled to your feet. When you walk, they do too. The ship above suddenly changes its target, firing into the clouds in the distance. 

“What the hell is this?” Sam asks.

It doesn’t matter, you’re able to make it halfway to the van by the time the object from the atmosphere finally makes an appearance, slamming directly through the spaceship, and coming out on the other side. It must destroy the inside, setting off explosions, as the blasters power down, and the ship begins to fall, heading for the lake.

The object in question is Carol, as she does a loop, and flies up through the bottom, coming out of the top. She lands somewhere in the field, presumably where the gauntlet must be, not too far away.

Your concern switches when Thanos’s army begins to run at you. For a moment, you think that it was a stupid choice to run out here this far. Then the sound of bones rattling, and the groaning begins behind you. You turn halfway, finding that your people have followed you all the way out here.

“Destroy them.” You say. With a layer of an undead shield in front of you, you continue forward, watching as Wanda flies past you, followed by some of the other girls. You throw your hand out, pointing their way. “They don’t get hurt!”

Valkyrie and Wanda work together to take down the two leviathans above, while you use Carol’s path of destruction as a way to get to the van faster. When the fire rises, smoke hovering like fog, you cover your mouth, refusing to slow down. But when you come out on the other side, you watch as Carol makes a dive for the van, only for Thanos’s weapon to hit the portal at the same time. 

This causes a blast, throwing the weightless dead back. You fight to stay on your feet, leaning into the wind. The gauntlet glove goes flying, landing a few feet away. Thanos runs at it, causing you to jerk forward, too. Tony runs right into him, throwing him to the ground.

Thor lands, Stormbreaker glowing bright blue as he swings at Thanos. When he spins around, intending for a hard hit, Thanos grabs the handle, stopping him. He raises his free hand, and Mjolnir flies to it, acting as a block. Thor’s eyes are bright white, using the power of lightning. Steve runs up behind Thanos, jumping on his back.

Thanos headbutts Thor, reaching back to grab a hold of Steve, and somersaulting forward. When he lands on top, he punches Steve across the face, knocking him unconscious. He crawls the few feet to the glove, getting it in his hands, before Carol kicks the back of his knee, hitting his jaw,

When Thanos fights back, she dodges. She makes the mistake of trying to grab the glove, leaving an opening for Thanos to grab her. He twists, chucking her into the rock and rubble. Once again, reaching to put the gauntlet on his hand, this time succeeding.

Your stomach flies at the sight of the power coursing through his arm, as he raises his hand to snap his fingers. He almost does, until Carol gets her hand between, dragging him down to her height, trying to pull it off. He tries to punch her, but her power creates a shield that he can’t penetrate. When she flies above him, now pushing his hand toward his face, he reaches up, pulling the Power Stone free, and transferring it to his other hand.

She can’t catch herself in time, as he shouts, punching her away. She disappears, leaving a trail of kicked up dirt. 

You find Tony, laying on his stomach, dirt and blood smeared across his skin. He’s not looking at you, but to a different part of the field. When you follow his gaze, you’re met with the sight of him. 

It’s Stephen, in the same condition that all of you seem to be, too caught up in trying to hold the lake water at bay. Still, he manages to hold up his index finger, telling Tony one.

The confusion lasts less than a second, when you remember one of the last conversations you had together before Thanos showed up on Titan. Out of fourteen million timelines that he lived through, there was only one where you won. 

You don’t want to take your eyes off of him, lips parted. The urge to call his name is on the tip of your tongue. He’s right there. He’s so close.

You’re forced to when Thanos puts the Power Stone back on the gauntlet.

You stomp your foot, hard, the dirt around you shakes. “Arzorath, come!” Pain slices through your wound at the sudden movement. “The rest of you, get him!”

They’re faster than you thought they’d be, adjusted to their worn down bodies. They begin to throw themselves at Thanos. In the beginning, he’s able to swing them off, but as the dead come out of the shadows, far through the field, the number is overwhelming. He’s just about to use the gauntlet to swing them away, when a black mist surrounds him. The screams of pain begin, as the poisonous cloud corrodes his skin.

Arzorath appears beside you, materializing out of the air. You cup your hands, watching as he dumps the stones into yours carelessly, since they have no real value to him. 

The stones begin to slide over your palms without an order, adjusting to sit in their rightful places over your knuckles. You pull the Time Stone out, holding it in your free hand, not ready for the pain it’s about to inflict. You take a few deep breaths, releasing the power you hold over your army.

They fall into a useless heap of bones and rotten flesh. Thanos bursts out of it, raises his hand, still assuming the stones are on it. You look over, watching as Arzorath crumples to the ground, the life leaving him, too. You can’t afford to have any of them around. Not if you plan to do this.

“I am inevitable.” Thanos says, snapping his finger. 

It doesn’t react, there is no flash of white light, the people don’t begin to fall, he fails.

You turn your head, meeting Tony’s eyes, which begin to widen when he realizes why Thanos’s snap didn’t work. “(Y/n), don’t!” He shouts. “You have Stephen! He’s here!”

“You have Morgan!” You tell him. “And I have something a lot nastier than just myself.”

Thanos’s head whips in your direction. You get down to your knees, to the ground, the same way you had to in the past. With the hand that isn’t holding the Time Stone, you press it into the dirt, leaning forward, pulling. You reach through, searching for that miserable monster that had come out four years ago when you’d done this. 

This is your only chance—your only trick. It rests, slumbering, refusing to rise at your will. It isn’t until you give a little of yourself, what little dark energy you have left from conjuring so many of the dead, does it wake. And when you pull, it flies up at you, not slowing down.

You can hear Thanos running at you, shouting.

You open your eyes, slapping the Time Stone into its place on your knuckle. The energy that flows through you is different, brighter. This is not the same dark force that you’re used to. You’re able to feel the burning pain up your arm and stabbing into your neck, before it’s gone. 

The beast travels through your feet and up your body, heading straight for your mouth. It sets you on fire inside, and you’re barely able to lift your hand in time to snap your fingers, when he takes over, doing it for you. You’re weightless, flying through the air, wind caressing your skin, cradling you like a newborn. 

And then you hit the ground.

You roll several feet, arms blocking your face, until you stop on your back. You can see a leviathan coming right at you. And when you manage to finally get your eyes open after blinking, you find that it’s gone, nothing but dust in the wind. You let out a breath.

“(Y/n)!” Stephen’s voice is close, coming toward you.

The ground feels like it’s spinning under your body, creating a whirlpool, sucking you down with it. That would be nice, to join the ones that have kept you safe throughout this fight. Maybe you could give them a proper thank you.

There’s mechanical footsteps coming your way, when you look over, it’s Tony. His mouth is open, hands reaching for you. He’s cut off by someone else, dropping to their knees beside you.

It’s Stephen, your Stephen, as he pulls you into an upright position by your shoulders. You let out a cry, abdomen screaming in reaction. He’s got your face pulled against his chest, one arm across the back of your shoulders to keep you from moving.

“(Y/n), stay with me.” He tells you. “Stark—!”

You can’t see much through the haze, like a film over your eyes. But with Stephen’s face so close to yours, it doesn’t even matter. You throw your head back to get a proper look at him, something you’ve been waiting to do for five years. Of course, there’s a mess across his skin, a few strands of hair out of place.

You reach up with the hand that doesn’t have the stones, wiping a patch of blood away. “I’m fine.” You murmur, eyelids drooping. You begin to fall back, but Stephen catches you, pulling you back against his chest.

When you shakily breathe in, you’re hit with his cologne, a smell you’d thought you’d lost forever. You wrap your fingers around his blue robes, staring at the side of his face.

“What can we do?” He demands.

Stephen’s so beautiful, even in a state like this, especially when he’s angry. You remember that being the first thing you thought about him when he stepped out of his car, the second time he almost hit you. He’s handsome, and he’s yours, in front of you. He hasn’t aged a day. Still as perfect as he was the day he was taken from you.

“I’m okay.” You whisper, but your voice is drowned out by Friday, listing your vitals out loud. 

You’re so, so tired.

Stephen jerks you, your eyes fly open. “Don’t close your eyes, (Y/n). You have to stay with me.”

You hum, trying to listen. The worried look on his face has only deepened since learning about your heart rate and blood pressure. You think you can hear Tony making suggestions, all of which Stephen shuts down.

“I just…” You close your eyes, wanting to rest. As you settle, ignoring Stephen’s demands for you to stay awake, a voice from below calls.

Brace yourself.

All you can do is twitch your eyebrows, before a sharp gasp comes through your mouth, eyes opening. Your hand grips at his robes, knuckles turning pale to keep him from going anywhere. The energy resurfaces, bouncing to your temples, a headache slams in after.

You grit your teeth, toes curled as the needles press into every inch of your skin, reminding you that you’re alive. Telling you that you’re not allowed to die. Stephen’s hand is cupping your face, leaning over you.

“I told you;” You breathe carefully, feeling it begin to subside, “I’m fine.”

Stephen smashes his lips into yours, rough and demanding. He holds you there for a long minute, feeling you on him, until he decides when to pull away. You touch the side of his face, a light laugh escaping you.

“I missed you.” You tell him, tears in your eyes. “I can’t live without you.”

“So this is what you do?” He asks, bewildered. “You sacrifice yourself?”

“It’s been a rough five years.” You sniff, reaching over to pluck the stones from your suit. “But this is what had to be done, right?”

“Right.” He says, voice sad, getting to his feet. He helps you up, and catches you when you stumble a step. When you take one toward Tony, he shakes his head. “Are you sure…?”

“Yeah.” You mumble, pulling his hand up to give him the stones. “Here.”

Tony’s standing a foot or two away, staring at you. When you stop, slightly hunched over, he closes his eyes. “You’ve got to be the dumbest person on our team. I could’ve done that.”

“And survived?” You ask.

He doesn’t say anything at first, “Probably not, but it would’ve been more thought out than that.”

“You’re telling me that wasn’t thought out?” You ask, looking back at Stephen. A smile appears on your face first, and when you begin to laugh, you have to force yourself to stop. “I think that went pretty fuckin’ well, don’t you?”

“I would’ve changed a few things.” Stephen comes over to you, “But you’re right.”

“You shouldn’t have…” Tony’s shaking his head, eyes drifting away.

“You saved my life, remember?” You ask him, voice wavering, “That day I told you I was working on a different way to bring them back? I owe you for that.”

“You didn’t.”

“I never—not even in my nightmares—would have let you take the Infinity Stones. Even if it meant that it killed me.” You press your finger to his chest. “We’re even.”

“We always have been.” He tells you.

Stephen reaches to grab you when you sway, not being able to stabilize yourself. “Let’s sit down, (Y/n).”

“Sure.” You don’t resist, letting him lead you to a slab of concrete that’s flat enough to sit down. When you do, the aches in your body leave, you take in a deep breath. “Stephen?”

“Yes, my love?” His eyes are already on you.

You take his hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “I love you.”

He smiles, tilting his head slightly. “I love you too, (Y/n).”

[acewizardinspace]

People don’t think enough about the jedi council’s options in the wrong jedi arc. They can either:

A: Do nothing. Tell the public and the friends and family of the victims, “There is a ton of evidence for this person’s guilt, but she is one of us, we have known her since she as a baby, so we decided she is not guilty, without a trial. Bye.”

B: Hold your own trial. We don’t know exactly what kind of legal system the jedi might have, but there is no way in thousands of years there has never been a jedi accused of a crime. Even if we assume those crimes are handled by the government issuing the accusation, there has to have been a time when that wasn’t an option. For example, the council held a trial to decide the fate of Prosset Dibs, so yeah there must be some type of system in place. But Prosset and Ahsoka are very different because he only attacked another jedi, making it an internal affair. For Ahsoka, think of the implications, either they:

a: Find Ahsoka guilty: What now? Do you imprison her yourself? Do the jedi have cells in the temple for keeping force sensitives? Just keep her in her room with guards on the door? We know the jedi believe in rehabilitation so there would be an attempt to help her away from the dark side (once again, what they did for Prosset). Meanwhile, they have to deal with the public who is probably not happy that she is getting off with what is, in their opinion, a slap on the wrist. Is it the jedi’s job to care what the people want? Maybe, maybe not, but public opinion is at an all-time low because of this fake war set up to make them look bad, and this will have consequences. (Yeah, we know she is not guilty and doesn’t need rehabilitation away form the dark side, but the council doesn’t.)

b: Find her innocent: This will sound like bullshit to the public. “Uh we meditated on it and the force told us she is not guilty.” How mad would you be if this happened? If your friend died in the attack, wouldn’t you be just pissed about this? There is a TON OF EVIDENCE TO HER GUILT and at this point, no counter evidence. (Yeah, Anakin shows up with Barriss eventually, but you cannot make a decision based on something that will happen in the future, something you don’t know about. So, this doesn’t factor into the council’s decision.)

Or finally, the option they chose, the only real option available:

C: You send Ahsoka off to receive a fair trial* where she will have an opportunity to defend herself in court and will have an attorney. In their minds, this trial would likely be even more fair than one they hold because they are emotionally compromised here, because, yes, they do know Ahsoka and consider her family! But they have been burned before (Dooku and Krell) and are at this point willing to accept the possibility of betrayal.

People act like the council sent her to die. They didn’t. All they did was vote on whether or not she, someone accused of a crime with tons of evidence supporting that claim, should go to trial. That’s it. Everything else was Palpatine and Barriss. Besides, this way if she is found innocent the public won’t think it was nepotism.

* We, the audience, know this will not be a fair trial, but the council, and literally everyone else, believes it will be. There is literally not a single indication to imply anything else. You can’t blame characters for not knowing something they logically couldn’t know.

So, to the people who think the council fucked up here, I ask an honest question, if you were on the council, had the full ability to sway the vote, and only knew what the council knew, what would you have done? And if it was anything other than expelling Ahsoka from the order, how would you have handled the fallout? The riots, the protesting, the clones from the guard who get killed in the crossfire of your choice?

The council made the only choice they could have made, and Ahsoka got hurt. That doesn’t make them wrong, and it doesn’t make Ahsoka wrong to feel betrayed either.