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t w e n t y - s e v e n

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐛

Avengers Tower

New York City, United States of America


. .



Allie quickly discovered that healing often came at a price. For her to heal, she had to tear open the temporary bandages that covered the horrors of her past. Exposing the wound to the harsh wind that slashed with vehement force, baring the damage to everything she had fought so hard to protect it from. Revealing it to the world, the very thing that caused the pain in the first place.

And to heal, to expose the fleshy, crimson coated parts of herself, she had to be prepared to experience that pain again. To feel the knife carve jagged lacerations down the mask she was forced to wear. To feel the flames incinerate her skin, fire that would ultimately cauterize the wound, to rid it of all potential infections. And it was supposed to help, to protect her from any future damage, and yet it hurt all the same.

And Allie wasn't sure if she was prepared to experience that trauma again.

"Alright Allie, so you understand how this is going to work?" Tony's voice called out from behind the glass window, caution swirling in his dark orbs as he watched her fidget nervously.

As Tony had promised, Allie stayed at Avenger's Tower the previous night, reuniting with Tony and Pepper. Catching up as if they were long lost friends, treating her as if she was one of their own.

But then this morning, Tony had cut some time out of his very hectic schedule to run some experiments on Allie. To see if he could suppress that darkness that surged beneath her skin, to find a poison to kill the parasite that corrupted her mind. To see if there was any way possible that he could drain the evil that flowed through her veins like blood, an evil that hurt all those around her.

"Yes, you make me wear this metal contraption on my head to measure the stuff you need. Then you make me angry." She answered, trying to disguise the slight quiver of her voice as she spoke.

The room that she was in, that Tony brought her into to test her resolve, was eerily familiar. Tony stood behind a gargantuan transparent wall, fumbling around with the many foreign machines that resided around him. His brows were sloped down in pure concentration, fingers tapping incessantly against the steel tops of the contraptions as he poked and prodded at various colored wires and buttons.

But on his head sat a ghost from her past, a black helmet, HYDRA's helmet. As soon as she saw him brandish the headpiece and place it atop of his unruly chestnut hair, she had froze. Her pupils blown and glistening with unadulterated fear, staring at the attire as if it would turn into a soldier and blow a bullet into her brain.

Immediately she had asked him where he got it from, panic dripping from her voice like tar. But he reassured her that they had stolen it from a past HYDRA mission with the Avengers. And she trusted him, so she tried to not let the sight of him wearing part of the HYDRA uniform faze her.

But as much as she tried to, she couldn't stop the conditioned reaction by her brain.

Even as she sat in the single chair in the room, her mind brought her back to that metal chair, lying in the laboratory they used to try and turn her into Trickery. The memories burned at the forefront of her mind, ingrained with unmatched acrimony and paralyzing fear. She could almost feel her wrists begin to throb because of how tight they used to restrain her. She could picture Mikael standing before her, his cobalt eyes smoldering into hers with a melancholic smile tugging at his lips.

And the headpiece, the electric torture device that used to fry her brain down to a singular nerve, leaving her with hot tears rolling from her dark eyes and inarticulate screams pouring past her cracked lips. Don't get her started on the headpiece.

This was the bandage she had to rip off, the pain she had to endure again to heal.

"Exactly, so try not to break any of this." Tony's voice called out over the audio system, breaking her from her thoughts with a teasing grin.

"I can't break objects, Tony. Only people." She replied, her words hollow as she gripped the armrests of the chair in a vain attempt to stop her hands from shaking.

"Well that's alright, I'm already broken inside." Tony smirked, distractedly flicking various buttons as he took his seat behind the desk.

Allie rolled her eyes at his comment as she squirmed awkwardly in the chair, unable to find a comfortable position to sit. Anxiousness coating her features as she struggled to tear her gaze away from the metal headpiece that lingered over her head like a monster that hid beneath a child's bed.

"Alright, are you ready to start, Allie?" Tony questioned, smiling at her crookedly.

Allie, despite the fear, the harrowing memories, and the inclination to get out of the cursed chair and run, nodded her head. "I'm ready." She spoke in affirmation, wishing her voice sounded as strong as it did in her thoughts.

A strident drone sounded above Allie's head, nearly prompting her to lurch out of the chair in fright. Instantly she whipped her head up towards the sound, panic swirling in her eyes as the metal contraption began its descent down onto her head.

"Lowering headpiece in 3, 2, 1..."

Even as Allie tore her gaze away from the dreaded machine, she couldn't stop the memories that flashed in front of her eyes. The writhing agony of white-hot electricity pouring through her body, the way her skull vibrated as it fried her brain. The guttural screams that brewed in her throat like a midnight storm, churning with saltwater tears that trickled down her ivory skin.

Tony, who immediately noticed the incessant trembling of her petite figure, stopped the machine with unforeseen haste. "Is everything alright, Allie?" He questioned, brows contorting in worry.

"Y—Yeah it's fine." Her voice trembled, hoarse with panic. "Keep going."

Tony paused for a second, his jaw clenched as he regarded her questioningly. He had no doubt that she was terrified of being in rooms like she was in now, forced to relive the horrors of her past. He could hear the distress raging in her voice, how her fingers curled around the edge of the chair in terror. She reacted this way despite knowing there was no malice in his actions, that he was only doing this to help her.

Sighing doubtfully, he flicked one of the machine buttons at her insistence. At the action, a loud hum of machinery erupted above Allie. She instantly jerked at the action, feeling her muscles tense and teeth clench in preparation. Anticipating that unyielding agony, the pulsating electricity to sear through her body.

"Allie, what's going on?" Tony demanded forcefully.

"Nothing, just keep going." She answered, shaking her head stubbornly. Because even though her bones were quaking with the force of an earthquake and her mind was like a carousel of traumatic memories, she knew she needed this.

Once again Tony fell silent, waiting for her to tell him to stop. Almost pleading with her internally to make him put a halt to this entire experiment. Because if her reaction now was any indication, he was almost certain that she wouldn't be able to cope if they continued.

But she let no objection fall past her lips. So with a sigh, Tony flicked the machine back to life. "Alright, we will start now."

Allie felt her body freeze as the machine was lowered over her head. She had to forcibly resist the urge to throw herself out of the chair, to get herself as far away from that thing as possible. But despite the thumping pulse in her chest and nausea erupting inside her gut, she stayed in the chair, trying to calm herself through deep breathing.

A cacophony of clicks and whines echoed from the machine, nearly making Allie wince at the strident noises it made. The anticipation of pain left her body quivering, worsened by the occasional thunk made by the metal crown that left her slamming her forehead against the iron in fright. But she endured, biting on her now pallid lips in nervousness as her chest heaved violently.

"Your normal brainwaves have been measured." Tony finally spoke, prompting a sigh of relief to fall between her chapped lips. "Now I want you to think about trying to manipulate my brain."

"I can't with the helmet on." She wheezed, shaking her head in disapproval.

"But you did it when the HYDRA soldiers attacked you a few weeks ago." He countered, cocking a brow at her expectantly.

Balling her fists stubbornly, Allie sighed, giving into Tony's demand. She let her eyes flicker their incandescent pools of silver, reminiscent of a moon bathed heaven and molten ice. She focused her thoughts, listening for the cadenced pulses of Tony's brain, the encoded rhythm that would allow her to mold anything he felt or saw at her very will.

The onyx helmet on his head was made to dampen the brainwaves, to contain them and hide it away from her reach. But she concentrated her efforts, letting the world around her fade into irrelevance as she strained to pick up on the faint thumping of Tony's mind.

And then she felt it.

She felt her brain connecting with Tony's, strengthening the measured beats of his mind. And so she began painting her illusion, one that heralded no pain or fear. Just elegant beauty.

A small butterfly began to dance in front of Tony's vision, letting its opaline wings eddy in the air. The insect fluttered around the room, a swirl of iridescent blue, a living sapphire jewel. A beauty that the city of New York lacked. One of the only wholesome things that Allie's powers could cultivate. 

But after a few moments, the insect faded from his sight, the absence of blistering cobalt bug leaving the room shrouded back in its usual light.

"Wow, Allie that's beautiful." He whispered, awe dripping from his voice like syrup.

Allie smiled at Tony's wonderstruck face, letting a warmth tug at her heart without interference. "It's the only good thing my powers can do." She murmured, her smile slightly falling as she thought of all the other horrors her powers bore.

Tony's grin faltered at her words, prompting a dismal sigh to push past his lips. But he didn't let it phase him, swiftly retreating back to his usual coquetry and mockery.

"Alright, now it's time to make you mad." He smirked, attempting to relieve her sour mood.

And with an impish grin, Allie played along. 

"Give it your best shot."


. .



Tony proved that it didn't take much to make Allie angry. He didn't have to dig very deep to reach that untapped fountain of molten anger that flowed in her bloodstream. The diseased feeling of fury that ebbed at her fingertips, a hurricane of rage that swept up all her resolve and discarded it with careless haste.

Thankfully, Tony stopped her before she managed to erupt, letting her seething magma of wrath simmer back down into its cage. All he needed was for the machine to read her mind like a map, seeing which areas of her brain lit up like Christmas lights when she got in such a state.

He explained it to her as best he could, pointing out brain structures and how they were responsible for her feeling such a way and its correlation to her powers. But despite knowing how her powers worked, he still wasn't sure how to stop it, or at least lessen the severity of it.

So Tony decided to drop her off at a rehab center in Queens, pawning her off to be someone else's problem whilst he conferred with a professional about it.

Well, that's at least what he had said. But they both knew he was joking, that childish glimmer in his eyes proving his words otherwise.

Tony had proposed to her the idea that she should seek qualified help from a therapist, someone who could help assuage her of guilt and manage her anger. Allie was reluctant to do so, mainly because she was an international criminal who could get in serious trouble if she did so and had a crippling fear of opening up to people she didn't know.

So they compromised, she would attend some group therapy session in Queens that Tony used to go to when his parents died. She didn't have to talk or actively participate, she just had to listen. To see what lives other people lived and how they overcame their own problems. To take the advice that she wanted from the meeting and see if she could put it to good use.

And that was why Allie now sat inside the Queens Town Hall, sitting in a flimsy plastic chair in a circle listening to a man finish his story about how his wife left him for her fitness trainer 2 years ago.

"I think I speak for all of us when I say we are sorry for your hardship, Frank." The ebony-skinned therapist spoke, her emerald eyes glistening with sincerity as the words fell from her lips like honey.

"T—Thank you." The man croaked, quite pathetically Allie thought. "It has been so hard for me."

"I can promise you that things will start to look up." The woman beseeched, offering him a comforting smile. "Just look at the good things in your life, focus on them and eventually everything else will begin to fall into place as well."

The man gave her a nod, wiping at the drizzle of tears that decorated his face with loud sniffs. All while Allie fought the urge to blatantly roll her eyes at the pitiful man, inwardly questioning how Tony felt that this nonsense would help her at all.

"Alright, I think it's time we move on now." The woman spoke, relief flooding so heavily through Allie that she had to clamp her mouth shut so she wouldn't let out an elated sigh. "How about you, young man? Would you like to share?"

Allie turned her gaze to the man in question, or rather boy would be a more fitting description. Crouched over awkwardly in the chair sat a boy exuding pure youth and naivete. His bright doe eyes flickered with masqueraded pain, trying to cover it up with a thin smile. But Allie was used to reading people, and she knew more than well those who were in pain.

She immediately began to question how the chestnut-haired boy could know anything about loss, but she caught that thought before it came to fruition. Because she herself knew that pain was indiscriminate, it affected all with equal force, and no person of no age was exempt from its harrowing reach.

"Hi, I'm Peter." The boy answered awkwardly, eyes flickering across the room and refusing to settle on any one person. Quite evidently unsettled, he began to choke on his words like bile. "Parker. Um—I'm Peter Parker."

"Hi, Peter." The entire group chorused, except Allie who watched on with piqued interest.

"So, Peter. What brings you here today?" The therapist coaxed, voice softening as she recognized the obvious signs of apprehension that coated his features like paint.

"Today marks two weeks since my Uncle died. He was killed by a burglar in my own house, he died trying to protect my Aunt." Peter answered, clearly ill at ease in the current situation.

The crowd of people instantly began mumbling at his confession, uttering intelligible condolences that were as half-hearted as the ones they muttered to the previous loser. Sympathies that would mean as much to Peter as the dust that coated the room like a plague. All while Allie set her jaw like stone, aghast at the disrespect the group was showing Peter, who was quite obviously wracked with nervous in his current predicament.

"That's terrible Peter. We are all so sorry for your loss." The woman spoke apologetically, the first person who truly meant her words.

Peter nodded glumly, not quite caring for her attempted consolation. "Yeah, thanks."

"So what do you aim to get out of this meeting today, Peter?" The woman continued, looking at the boy imploringly with a gentle smile tugging at her full lips.

"I don't know. My aunt thought it would be good for me to come so I came for her." He shrugged, eyes dipping to the ground at his confession.

"That's okay, there's nothing wrong with that." She told him kindly. "So how do you feel now about the loss of your uncle?"

"I miss him. I never got to tell him how much I needed him, how much I still had to learn from him. How much I loved him. He died not knowing any of that. He died thinking I would have been fine without him." Peter lamented, melancholy dampening his tone until it was rendered a soft murmur that Allie had to strain to listen to.

"Parents have an uncanny ability to know how much their children need them. And I am sure that your uncle would have known that as well." The therapist tried to assuage his grief, but Peter didn't look as though he truly believed her words.

"Yeah, I guess." He mumbled.

"So you miss him, what else do you feel about his passing?"

"I'm angry that he was killed. I hate the man who killed him, I hope he rots in hell for the rest of his life." Peter's voice darkened, roughening as his eyes swirled with rage. Something Allie could very much relate to. "But I am angry at myself too I guess. I should have been home, I could have protected them. Ben might not have died if I was there."

"That's a usual reaction, Peter. Most people feel guilt over the passing of a loved one. But you can't hold yourself accountable for his death, your actions did not contribute to the passing of your uncle." The woman spoke comfortingly, almost imploringly as she noticed Peter's defeated expression.

But once again, he did not seem to heed her words, only able to offer a meager shrug in response.

"It's okay, Peter. Coming to terms with emotions like these take time." She continued, offering him another warm smile before she turned her gaze to the rest of the group. "But you're not alone. Who else here has lost someone dear to them?"

Almost instantaneously, hands shot into the air around Allie. Some were quick, with the speed of lightning, whilst others were slow, reluctant and scared, hands shaking in fear. Realizing that she was becoming the odd one out, Allie also raised her hand into the air, attempting to shrink into the back of her seat as the lady cast her gaze around the room in search of a new candidate to interrogate.

And of course, she chose Allie.

"You," The lady smiled reassuringly as her jade eyes bore into Allie's own chocolate ones. "Why don't you tell us your story?"

"Um— I'm really here to just listen." Allie denied, crimson blossoming on her cheeks as she wished to just fade into the chair and disappear from existence.

"That's okay. What's your name?" She continued, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness.

Recognizing she was fighting a losing battle, Allie sighed in disappointment as she yanked her lip in between her teeth. "Allie."

"Hi, Allie." The group echoed.

"So Allie, who did you lose?" The woman inquired delicately.

Allie fought the urge to grimace at her question, knowing that there were many potential answers to her question that she could respond with, each equally devastating and beyond harrowing.

"Everyone." She eventually mumbled.

But the therapist wouldn't accept that as an answer, wishing to dig deeper into the new member of the group who exuded despair like she held it in excess. "Surely not everyone. There is always at least one person who has your back?"

"I lost my parents, my father figure, my battalion, and 2 of my best friends." Allie answered bluntly, glaring at the lady as her jaw tightened in irritation.

"I'm sorry for your loss." She offered, not at all affected by Allie's hostility. "You fought for the military?"

"Yes, I guess you could say that." Allie shrugged, leaning back into the chair as she turned her gaze down to her feet.

"Well, thank you for your service. Would you like to tell us what that was like?" The woman continued, unaware that Allie's frustration was rising like a burning flame being stoked with gasoline. Incinerating her resolve like it was paper.

"I am really just here to listen, I'm not big on talking."

And the therapist's response was automatic, recognizing a difficult case when presented with one.

"That's alright. Maybe next time?"

Allie lifted her gaze back up, catching sight of the young boy, Peter. His eyes like a bottomless sea of bronze, swirling with sympathy and pain. Looking at her in recognition, not because he knew who she was, but he saw himself in her. That unequivocal loss, the crippling trauma, the unyielding guilt. All traits they shared, knowing the feelings too well. But as quickly as their gazes met, he ripped his away, crimson coating his cheeks as he dragged his eyes back to the floor.

"Sure, next time."


. .


The minutes seemed to trickle by like hours, suspending Allie in an infinite void of boredom as she sat in the group therapy session. Listening to Kevin's drug dependence, Tracey's shopping addiction, and Serena's coming out story. Tales that left Allie rolling her eyes in incredulity, chuckling softly in elation or eyes stinging in remorse.

Some of which were of little significance, problems that Allie wished she would have. Dilemmas that wouldn't leave her soul corrupted or mind diseased with evil. Merely slight problems rather than life-ending trauma.

But in between the trivial anecdotes, the ones that left Allie trying to contain her malicious laughter, there were a few tragedies that left her toughened resolve crumbling. Stories of pain and torment, the aggrieved suffering at the hands of an aggressor, leaving Allie's heart crying in sorrow. Understanding how it felt to have parts of her stolen, shattered until it broke into tiny glass shards that pierced irreparable holes in her heart.

They were the people that Allie sympathized with, ones that deserved Allie's compassion.

But thankfully the therapy session had to come to an end.

As soon as the clock struck the next hour, Allie was up and out of her seat with haste. Her hands immediately curling around her phone and she dialed Tony's number, walking outside as she informed Tony that she was done with his stupid healing session. Thankfully he was only a few blocks away from her and would be there as soon as he could, leaving Allie to sit outside on the street bench and twiddle her fingers while she waited.

She watched the cars speed down the dark roads, listening to the incessant honking of the motorized vehicles. Trying to spot Tony's flashy orange sports car, one that exuded pure opulence and reflected the wealth of the very man himself.

When she got bored with the cars, she turned her gaze to the crowds of people who swarmed the streets like a hive of ants, cowering between the ubiquitous skyscrapers and bustling down the footpaths with fervent passion. Hundred of bodies all going about their daily life, completely unaware of the people around them.

She was just sitting there, eyes anxiously flicking between the busy New York street and the sidewalk when a voice piped up behind her. Immediately she felt her heart thump in panic as she almost jumped in her seat, only to turn around and see sight she hadn't expected.

"Hi."  The boy spoke, his baritone voice trilling with insecurity as his cheeks flushed crimson. "I'm not sure if you remember but I'm Peter."

Allie turned her gaze to the scruffy copper-haired boy. She could tell that he was already regretting speaking to her, his amber eyes twinkling with embarrassment as they flickered between her face and the ground, unable to decide where to train his gaze. 

Now that she could truly see Peter up close, she noticed his innocent face, his kind features full of effervescent youth, and the odd teeshirt he wore which featured a science pun that Allie actually understood for once.

"I do." She spoke, offering him a kind smile. "I'm Allie."

"I know." He answered quickly before another wave of embarrassment coated his features. "B—Because you said it earlier in the meeting." He continued, stumbling over his words.

"I know, it's okay Peter." She smiled softly, trying to ease his obvious discomfort. But then Allie remembered Peter's story, his words that struck something deep inside her when they sat inside the therapy session mere minutes ago. Words that left her feeling empathetic, knowing what it was like to lose family.

"I'm sorry about your uncle. Nobody deserves to go through that." She told him, truly meaning her words.

At her condolence, Peter managed to let only his lip tremble, the solitary sign of the freshly cut wound that was the loss of his uncle. "Thanks, I'm sorry about everyone you lost too." He offered sincerely, fighting back the burning in his eyes that often preceded the frequent storm of tears.

"It's okay, I lost them a while ago." Allie shrugged, forcing a smile on her face to mask the depression that lurched in her stomach at his sympathies.

"I'm sorry, this is weird isn't it?" Peter announced, running his hands nervously through his unruly hair. "I'm just waiting for my aunt and I just wanted to say sorry for your loss."

"No, it's not weird at all." She refuted, shaking her head lightly.

"Right, well I'll just..." He trailed off, eyes darting back to his feet that kicked at the ground awkwardly. "I'll just wait over here, then."

"Peter." She called, patting the empty seat beside her. "Sit."

The short boy gave her a grateful smile, eyes twinkling with content as he took the seat next to Allie, crossing his hands in his lap as he met her dark eyes.

"How old are you, Peter?" She questioned, smiling encouragingly.

"I'm 15. I go to Midtown High School." He answered, his voice thankfully strengthening as he gained more confidence. "And you?"

Allie chuckled at his question. It was a subject that was quite confusing if she thought about it, unsure of how old she was both chronologically and biologically. So she settled with a joke, a distraction from such a seemingly straightforward question that was in reality, far beyond complicated.

"Too old."

Peter grinned at her answer, thankfully not questioning it as he moved on. "Thank you for your service by the way." He added. "Are you still in the army?"

The words lurched in her throat for a moment, unable to push past her rosy lips and echo into the air around her. She swallowed as she gained her thoughts, hesitant on how to answer another topic that although seemingly simple, was a question that heralded various different answers and traumatic memories.

"No, not anymore. I had a rough mission, I guess you could say, and after that, I never fought again." She eventually answered, eyes flickering with an indecipherable emotion that Peter, fortunately, failed to notice.

"That's rough. I could never imagine what it's like to be in the military."

"Don't do it, would be my advice." She chuckled ruefully, sorrow swirling in her eyes like a tsunami. But she quickly disguised the emotion, hiding under her facade of indifference. "What do you want to do when you are older?"

"I'm not too sure yet. I like science so I will probably do a science course at MIT or ESU." Peter explained, shrugging his shoulders. He was too young, too naive to know what he wanted to do in his future, a concept that seemed daunting to him. "But I know that I want to do something where I get to help people."

"That's really noble of you, Peter." She smiled.

"It's what my Uncle would have wanted me to do." Peter added, pain coating his words like poison.

"Well you do it for him, so the next time you see him he knows how everything you ever did in your life was for him. You do that, and there will be absolutely no doubt in his mind that you loved him." She spoke, attempting to assuage his sorrow in the only way she knew how. The way that Bucky had taught her.

Peter opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the monstrous roar of an engine, reminiscent of the rumble of thunder on a dark stormy night. Turning her gaze to the booming noise, Allie quickly recognized the gaudy tangerine vehicle that belonged to a certain cocky billionaire.

Sighing dismally, she turned back towards Peter who was gaping at the car in awe.

"Give me your phone." She declared, holding her hand out in expectation.

Peter shifted his gaze back to her in disbelief. "O—Okay?" He stammered as he fumbled for the device, unlocking it and handing it to her with a cautious expression.

Allie gave him a reassuring grin before she looked down at the device, furrowing her brows as she regarded the piece of technology that was much more advanced than her own. But she went with her gut, clicking the contacts application and managing to type in her phone number with little difficulty.

"If you ever need someone to talk to about everything, give me a call." Allie informed him, handing back the phone with a melancholic grin. "I know what it's like to lose people, so if it starts to get overwhelming, let me know."

"Thank you, Allie." Peter spoke, gazing at her in appreciation.

With a beaming smile, Allie clasped his shoulder comfortingly. Offering him one last comfort before their conversation came to its ultimate end. Trying to savor the moment, the realization that she may have made her first friend from this century who didn't know about her past.

But she was pulled out of the solace of her thoughts when a resounding honk sounded off behind the pair.

Allie whipped around instantly, catching the gaze of a certain arrogant brunette donning a pair of sunglasses that would have cost more than her entire house.

"Get in loser, we are going shopping." Tony called, pulling up at the curb, illegally Allie noted. Rolling her eyes at his brazenness, Allie walked over to the ostentatiously carrot-colored car and slipped inside.

Peter watched the events unfold before his eyes, jaw dropping open as he gawked at the sight of none other than New York's own celebrity. "I—Is that..."

"See you around, Peter." She grinned impishly before Tony took off, zooming out of eyesight in his flashy sports car, leaving Peter gaping in shock.

Because that was Tony Stark.



. .


Hey everyone!!


Who was surprised by my smol bean Peter entering the chat?!

I have been so excited for so long to bring Peter into the story because it really sets up Allie's confliction in CA:CW where she has to choose between Steve and Tony. I'm so pumped to finally finish Trickery and publish Tricked because its the culmination of all of Allie's redemption and healing!

So yeah, two more chapters of Trickery before we move into Tricked!! The next chapter is actually cute as hell so prepare yourselves!

ALSO,, I'm thinking of publishing Melaina's book sometime next week. It's called Olympus (FYI) so keep your eyes peeled for that! I have worked so hard to make it perfect and I can't wait to share it with you all!


Anyway, onto the questions




1. What did you think of the chapter?

2. Who would you guys like to see next?

3. What did you think of Peter?

4. If you guys have any feedback/constructive criticisms for my writing, please let me know! I'd really like to hear what you guys think I should improve on :)






Until next time, my loves!!


— Grace xx

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