ω･)ﾉ ...hi? I'm sorry about how late this is. School and all that. But at least it's here now? haha

Chapter Warnings: Sorry guys, I can't bring myself to senselessly bash the Avengers. Team as Family ftw! But they're still at rough waters tho, so the team dynamics are still off.

ARC 3: CHAPTER 18
Pheme

-0-

The Avengers were kind of a touchy subject when it comes to his Mechanic.

Way back then, when Harley and Tony were still testing the waters, poking and prodding at things they can talk about comfortably that went beyond Science, Harley had tried to re-open the topic of the Avengers. Learning from that mishap on Chad Davis's memorial, Harley had practiced more caution.

"What about your friends?" Harley had hedged.

Rhodey. Pepper. J.A.R.V.I.S. The bots. Happy. Bruce.

Tony could spend hours just talking about them, but there was no mention of the other Avengers.

It struck him as odd then, had made him pay closer attention to what was said and what wasn't said. It was all he can really do.

Sometimes they talked of the Captain and his penchant to be stuck in the past. It never failed to drive Tony up the wall, being a man thinking so far ahead into the future that he'd kept the entire world one step into it. Other times, Tony spoke of a breakthrough on the widow bites and Barton's specialized arrows.

"What if they don't like it?" His Mechanic would sometimes let slip before throwing in a useless bit of information that led to another topic. What if they don't like me? Is what Harley kept hearing.

There was enough latent indignation on Harley's part to paint a fairly negative picture of the Avengers. It tainted his opinions, had made him avoid opening the subject again unless Tony volunteers it. It wasn't that Harley hated them. Of course not, they did rally to fight against impossible odds just to save Earth.

But now, having seen how they work first-hand, having gone through the last few hours in his head, Harley can't say he would ever be fond of them. Not when he'd seen how easy it was for them to turn against each other. Not when they welcome a manipulating Witch without considering the consequences.

(How dare she touch his Mechanic? How dare that wench leave her dirty, fake, stolen taint in his Mechanic's mind?)

It didn't help that Harley felt like his emotions had gone through a blender, that he was ignoring the weight of having the scepter back in his possession and suppressing thoughts of what that means.

Earth may need the Avengers, may need the symbolism of hope and security and safety that superhumans provide, but their capability to actually go against the entire universe was too laughable in the greater scheme of things. What they were doing now would never be enough once Thanos decides that it was time.

"Mister Keener?"

Harley doesn't startle, but he blinks away his thoughts, snaps his attention away from war.

His eyes trained back on the pathway outlines F.R.I.D.A.Y. had helpfully projected. "Right." He resumes his work, making sure nothing was out of place as they went through what NEXUS has access to.

Tony was lying on the battered couch, asleep and healing while being watched over by Dum-E and U. Harley feels the faint brush of guilt for both pushing a bit too hard and putting the man to sleep with his Magic. The man needed it, needed to hammer the point he wanted to make. Harley could have through it in a better way though.

"May I suggest getting sleep for yourself? My search indicates that getting an adequate amount of sleep is crucial for the human body. Especially for children about to go through puberty."

"It's okay, Friday." Harley mutters as he puzzled over a line of code that he didn't quite get. "I don't really need much sleep."

There was a pause. "I find that hard to believe. Collation of data all across existing bases of research show consistency in their results that sleep deprivation inhibits optimal cognitive functioning. The correlation between hormonal imbalance, growth spurts, and insufficient sleep on adolescents are also significantly high."

Harley's attention didn't waver, but he tilts his head in acknowledgement. It wasn't a surprise, really, how considerably robotic F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded. Her accent was accurate, her intonations human-like, but her words were still too technical. She's young, new to the world. On the precipice of being an entity and becoming a being.

J.A.R.V.I.S. and the other bots have come a long way, had learned and explored through years of experience. F.R.I.D.A.Y. would need a bit more than the few hours and days she's been activated—been introduced to the world—to be on their level. But she will, he was sure of that.

(Such was the genius, the potential of being made by one of Death's.)

"You're doing great." Harley tells her instead. "But you didn't have to verbalize all of that."

"I apologize." F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded sounding contrite. "Human speech patterns are more difficult to integrate than I first estimated."

"It takes time." Harley knew that. It took a lot of effort on his part to do away with the remnants of Harrhan's favored vocabulary. In the end, Harley Keener had let his mouth run instead of thinking of his words. "You'll get there."

For a while, Harley becomes absorbed by the codes.

"Mister Keener?" F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s inquisitive tone broke his concentration.

Harley was reminded of another little girl, one who grew up too soon and wasn't there anymore, and it softened any recrimation that would have bled through his voice. "Yeah?"

"Why wouldn't you sleep? I've reviewed what footage I can get and you haven't slept since you arrived at the tower."

Longer, he wanted to say, but there was no reason to teach F.R.I.D.A.Y. about worrying when she shouldn't.

Harley had gone days without sleeping, spentdays upon days concentrating on the multitude of things that his brain latched on to. Because resting and Harley don't really go well together. Not when an idle moment was a gamble of emotions he didn't always win. Not when the restlessness his biology constantly threw at him drove him to new heights.

Here's the thing, though; nightmares don't haunt his sleep.

Nothing haunts his sleep.

Maybe it was a messed up lottery of fate, or just some part of him entirely giving up. No sweet lullabies or soothing caresses had ever elicited anything. Not even when Harley had spent enough time staring into the darkness to be concerning, not even when he'd had to mend broken bones that didn't entirely result from an accident.

It should be a respite, should comfort him when Harry Potter and Harrhan had been tormented by nightmares and visions of the past and present and silly could-have-beens. And for a while, it had been.

Until it felt worse than anything else. Until time passing by too fast came to the fringes of his fears.

(Because falling asleep is like blinking and time passing by without notice. Like he'd lost something than rested.)

"Sometimes it's just impossible to do," Harley settled on answering. "Sometimes the only way is to avoid it."

Once the words left his mouth, it felt like admitting something he couldn't have if he were talking to someone else. Not even to himself.

-0-

New York had certainly been one hell of a roller-coaster ride, and he'd only been there for less than a week.

Still, here he was, about to meet the Avengers without the looming threat of a villain in the way.

He's more prepared this time around; had raised his defenses and cleared his head. His Magic is a tight coil under his skin, restless from being kept within rather than free to roam.

After dithering over empty conversations and appealing to a couple more disdainful politicians, Harley and Tony had eventually migrated to the hangar. His mechanic was on his sixth cup of coffee, clearly winded up and more than a bit anxious. Harley briefly mourns the gradual loss of the relaxed atmosphere as the arrival of earth's superheroes drew nearer.

F.R.I.D.A.Y., with her rudimentary access within the tower's security feeds, remained quiet and observant. Harley had done all he can, but they would still need Tony's input to have her integrated properly. And that, Harley knows, would take a long time.

(Not when J.A.R.V.I.S.'s sacrifice still left a bittersweet taste on his tongue. Not when the loss was too raw for his Mechanic to process.)

They'd get there eventually, but not right now.

Thankfully, they didn't have to suffer under tense anticipation for much longer.

Thor Odinson was the first one to arrive, dropping down with a harsh thud that would have cracked normal concrete. This apparently wasn't quite normal, as Tony's attention snapped onto the Aesir, a frown crossing over his weary features before it was gone.

Eyes trained on the approaching blond, Tony asked, "Everything okay there, Point Break?"

(Harley doesn't miss the way his Mechanic fleetingly brushed a hand over his neck.)

"Man of Iron," Thor greeted, not unkindly. "Everything is fair." Then, in a show that he has just noticed Harley, addressed him, "Son of Stark."

Harley blinked in surprise and Tony spluttered a cough.

"Son?!"

Well.

As far as misunderstandings go, this was fairly tame.

"Aye," Thor actually bends down to Harley's height and fixed him with an intense appraisal, lips stretched into what should have been an encouraging smile but just unsettled Harley. "A fine young lad. You will grow into a brilliant warrior like your father."

The knee-jerk reaction was to step back, to pull himself away, to ignore and forget and not make the connection. Harley grits his teeth, presses his tongue against them so hard his neck strains with the effort.

Because-

A brilliant warrior like your father.

He draws in a deep breath, tries so hard to blink away the sting in his eyes. Tries, desperately, to keep in the laugh that wanted to escape at the utter irony of such an assumption (accusation, curse).

(Why does it feel like he's falling apart again? Why start from something so innocuous and insignificant?)

There's anger there, too. Anger for the god who unwittingly prodded at a raw point, who rubbed Harley the wrong way with his mere presence. It's unfair and entirely misplaced, but it's there nonetheless.

Harley Keener was not sensitive, was not led by his emotions, was the farthest thing from brittle.

(But sometimes, he reverts back to that abandoned child, the one whose skin was green and desperately longing to be human. The one who was stuck with cursed fire and a forsaken planet at the same time.)

"Have I done a transgression?" Thor finally asked, at least looking truly apologetic even if he didn't know what he did wrong.

"N-No, no." Harley managed with a halting tone, deciding to hell with it and roughly wiped at his eyes. "It's just. Tony isn't- really my dad."

(Family? Family stuck together, loved each other. It's selfish and singular to each and every person. But what does it even mean?)

As time passed, as that confidence and resolve waned–

as he's forced to relive memories he'd rather not, so sure of his own actions

–Harley finds that he doesn't know anymore, and it grates at him, rattles him to the point of wanting to claw himself out of his own skin.

He flinches, almost reacting violently when a hand landed on his shoulder. And it takes almost everything for him to snap his Magic back into control, away from the threatening coil it had slithered just over his skin.

"Yeah, Thunderbolt, you got it mixed up." Tony blurted out, false levity coating his words. "I'm more a wine and dine kind of man. Ladies man, I am. Of children I think not. I'd rather have a ring on it before spawning my own brat."

Harley eyed the engineer's hand on his shoulder and forced his muscles to relax.

This is his Mechanic, he wasn't– well, he wasn't really a threat.

When Harley meets the other genius's eyes, he can see the worry and sympathy and understanding despite the casual facade.

It's okay, I understand,they manage to convey. Don't worry, I got this.

Harley wonders if they are even on the same page. If Tony Stark would actually know what Harley had been through, would understand why Harley is the way he is.

(If he wouldn't condemn Harley because of his choices, because of his actions.)

This, he finds, didn't matter to the warmth that clogged right at the back of his throat and spread to the very tips of his fingers. The honeyed, syrupy thing that blocks his breath for a single, almost alarming moment.

It's a curse, Harley concluded with no small amount of derision when hope inevitably, invariably became the aftertaste of that warmth. It was small, nothing but a tiny spark, but it was there. With all the potential to be disastrous and wonderful at the same time.

(Because when you've lived twice, when you've chosen opposing options countless of times–)

And oh, protectiveness and reluctant dependence is one thing, but this? This was where Harley Keener and Harrhan and Harry Potter intertwined so perfectly and grotesquely. Where besides Death, his entire Being revolved around.

(Love.)

"Apologies, then, Friend Anthony," Thor spoke contritely, drawing himself up from the hunched position he'd adopted for Harley. Ignorant for now, despite the lapse of control Harley had for a moment. "I did not mean to make false accusations."

Harley buries the disappointment when his Mechanic draws his hand away in favor of clutching the coffee mug with both hands.

Tony snorts, this one overly sharp and out of place for the conversation. "Yeah, keep that in mind, Point Break."

Thor's gaze is ashamed and stubborn all at once, a twist to his handsome features that spoke of discomfort.

There was something Harley was missing, and he pulls his focus onto it instead of that bout of epiphany. Whatever it was Harley missed—the tension, the undertones of enmity—he wasn't liking what he was piecing together.

But before Harley was hit by realization, before the god of thunder opened his mouth to provide Harley with the information he needed, the semi-familiar sound of repulsor tech reached their ears.

Iron Patriot (War Machine, kid! Stop calling it that!) lands with the grace of someone used to lugging around a hunky piece of full-body armor. That is; heavily, but smooth enough that the last webs of his negative mood was swept away by speculations on the mechanism behind another technological marvel. The Iron Man suit, after all, was a lot less bulky and consequently operated on an entirely different system.

Didn't Tony mention something about Hammer Tech and low-grade weapons?

The silver faceplate snapped up and they were greeted with the scowling face of one Colonel Rhodes.

"What's this I hear about a kid– Tony!" Colonel Rhodes walked over to them with purpose, the sharp whirls of electromechanical actuators and heavy thud-clinks of metal against the floor emphasizing his steps. "You can't keep doing things like this!"

"Things like what, exactly?" Tony simpered, reluctantly putting down the cup of coffee in favor of crossing his arms. "Surprise you? It's like you don't know me at all, sour patch."

"Yeah," Colonel Rhodes sends a sharp look at Tony before turning his attention towards Harley. "He didn't kidnap you, did he?"

"Hey! I've never kidnapped people!"

Harley, still a bit crabby, replied an unnecessarily pointed, "No."

Surprisingly—or rather unsurprisingly, considering just who this is and just who he is friends with—Colonel Rhodes merely raised an eyebrow before accepting Harley's answer. "Good to know, then. Never know when this idiot crosses another line."

"Platypus!" Tony gasped, scandalized tone completely free of actual hurt. "I'll have you know that this kind of genius exists nowhere else but in me. Besides, lines are meant to be crossed!"

The lessened tension on his mechanic's shoulders settles Harley's nerves a bit more, so he finally decided to shelve his earlier thoughts for later. "I mean, you are kind of an idiot, Mechanic."

"See, even the kid knows it." Colonel Rhodes agreed with a completely flat look aimed at Tony. "Everyone knows how much of an idiot you are, Tones."

"Nay," Thor budged in, tone earnest despite the judgmental gaze Harley (and, to a more subtle and lessened degree, Tony) fixed on him. "The Man of Iron has shown great brilliance and resourcefulness. He is no idiot. I may have… had a lapse of judgment when I confronted him of my concerns earlier. It was a time of great distress, I–"

Whatever else the god of thunder was about to say was interrupted by the quinjet arriving.

"Yeah, hold that thought, Point Break." Tony muttered, subdued and conflicted. He's fidgeting rather badly and pointedly avoiding any of their gazes, fixated instead on the aircraft. "The entourage is here."

Harley tries to catch the eyes of the Colonel, but even he looked tense and uncomfortable. With pursed lips, Harley swore to find out just what happened between them. It was obviously big enough to make all of them weird with each other.

For now, Harley decided to meander nearer to his Mechanic as the remaining Avengers unloaded the jet. Harley pinches a part of his Mechanic's jeans with a small degree of hesitance, unsure of how to give comfort in this situation.

It's not like they'd talked about how they were going to be acting with the others. Any other time—in the privacy of the lab, maybe—Harley would have done more, wouldn't have hesitated to repeat that awkward hug if it would make his Mechanic feel better. But surrounded by strangers, by people who mattered enough that his Mechanic was so self-conscious in their presence, it was a different thing.

Harley looks up and smiles at his Mechanic when he realizes the man was staring at him.

(Hordes the warmth that seeped through the ice when he's pulled closer into a brief hug.)

Which was when his Mechanic efficiently drew up his masks, seamlessly falling into his role as the arrogant asshole billionaire most people knew. It seemed Tony was too good with it, seemed too natural despite being anything but, because even Colonel Rhodes didn't notice or had grown desensitized to it.

It was worrying.

"Morning!" Tony was laying it on thick as he stepped in front of their group to greet the approaching Avengers. His eyes darted around, looking for something, for someone. Doctor Banner didn't emerge with everyone else. "Such a fine day. How are things at SHIELD?"

Captain America sighed. "It's the afternoon, Tony."

"Semantics." Tony waved his hand dismissively. "So?"

"SHIELD managed to get the Sokovians settled," The Black Widow's expression remained stoic, a certain unpleasant bite to her words. "No thanks to you, Stark. We could have used your genius there. Where were you?"

Harley frowned, startled and incredulous at the amount of hostility being thrown his Mechanic's way. He spies movement at the back of the group, eyes narrowed as Pietro Maximoff put a placating hand on his sister's wrist at the same time as the Black Widow blinked and rubbed at her eyes.

"We're all tired," The Widow said instead of apologizing.

And maybe that would have been enough for his Mechanic. Heck, it would've probably been enough for anyone who knew her and was close to her. God knew how hard it actually was to admit you've done something wrong. More than half of the people he'd met were like that.

But then when he looks at the Widow, when he stares to figure out what made her tick, he sees her dripping with deception. Wading deep into her own lies, stuck on the web she had threaded and spun. And the only way out was to cut herself free, to fall down from her perch with no certainty that there would be someone to catch her.

Harley can't hate her when he pities her more.

(He'd been there, after all.)

He can, however, be angry at the callous way she had used her words to hurt his Mechanic. But that can be curtailed too, because the witch was there and already being a tart and using her powers in a way that made Harley itch to put her in her place.

"What," Harley bit out, his temper a hair's breadth away from being dangerous and barely able to hold back, "is that witch doing here." His ire turns to the only being that Knew, and ignored the startled looks the entire group was sending him.

The Vision stood frozen under his hard stare. With something else taking their focus, the Vision slowly started to drift off the ground, the only way the being reacted to their distress. Magic rippled under Harley's skin, demanding to be released against the threat. It simmered with anger and disgust and mistrust for the artificial witch.

Harley tempers down his reaction, controls the anger that sparked into a fire when he'd caught the witch red-handed, ready to manipulate, to abuse. The Vision didn't have anything to do with it, there was no need to direct anything at the being.

Eventually, the Vision answers, "Director Fury had given the order to keep the Maximoffs under our watch while a course of action is being deliberated."

Which made sense, but the thought of having her so close to his Mechanic made him bristle. Tony was defenseless, unsuspecting of how the witch had gone into his head without a thought to the consequences such an attack would have on a vulnerable human.

"Do you know each other?" Hawkeye-Barton cut in with a frown, darting a glance from Harley and then to the Maximoffs.

Wanda Maximoff stared at Harley with narrowed eyes, while Pietro fidgeted beside her.

"No. I've seen her." Harley made sure to stare the witch in the eyes. "I just don't like her."

"I don't need you to like me, boy." Wanda Maximoff spat, her words heavily accented, clearly just as irate as Harley for some reason. "You pander to a man like him, a murderer."

Pietro Maximoff put a hand on her wrist. "Wanda–"

"You best choose your words carefully, witch, you know nothing," Harley shot back with only a slight rise in tone to show for his anger. He is sorely tempted to hex her within an inch of her life, if not for the presence of the god of thunder.

Surprise colored her face before a scowl took over once more, but this time she remained silent. Pietro Maximoff was looking at him in puzzlement.

"Oh-kay!" Tony clapped his hands loud enough to break Harley's focus on the witch. "Children, there's enough space in the playground. No need to fight over the swings. The adults need to do some talking."

That was enough to snap everyone else out of the reverie they were all in.

"And where are you in that playground, Stark?" The Widow cut in dryly, this time teasing and without the bite it had before. "In the slides where all the other kids are?"

"The sandbox, actually." Tony corrected before realizing what she just said. He did a double-take that was a touch exaggerated. "Did you just imply I'm one of the children?"

"Come on, it makes sense." Hawkeye-Barton quipped with a tired smirk as he deposited his equipment on one of the weapon storage.

"You know what, I will be mature about this and ignore what you just said." Tony started walking towards the exit and it seems that was the cue for everyone to move.

"Too late for that." Captain America mutters and Harley catches the way he rolled his eyes. It was done with a smile. Small and slightly lopsided, but it was soft in nature.

It's odd how they can jump into bantering despite having a tension between them. A few hours ago, Harley witnessed how they fought against each other. He had seen how uncoordinated they are, how there was estrangement somewhere in there.

It's a wonder, then, that they have this camaraderie. This easy banter and successful toe-avoiding techniques. It was a completely different side of them, one that was maybe a result of exhaustion. Or maybe it was one of the softness victory and triumph provided. Or it was because of his presence. Harley wouldn't know for sure, not when he knows almost nothing.

Harley eyes the Maximoff twins. He considers the Vision, too.

He didn't like the witch at all, but Pietro Maximoff was there to be the buffer to her fickle moods. There was no doubt they were there to stay. No matter how advanced this Earth is, there was no way for them to obtain something that could properly contain even a tiny fraction of the Stone's power. If the twins ever gained full control of their powers, there was no stopping them.

Only another Stone could. Harley can use the power of the Mind Stone, can probably use his Magic too, but he would rather be the last line of defense, would rather have that sense of anonymity for a while yet. But only he was sure of that. Some, like Tony and Thor, would find out eventually, but it wasn't at this moment.

So, to the knowledge of anyone else, it fell on the Avengers, the only known group of superhumans to take up the title of superheroes, to keep the Maximoffs in check.

He can't let the Avengers fall apart if Earth wanted a chance to survive against Thanos.

(He can't let the Avengers fall apart. For the sake of his Mechanic.)

Harley doesn't miss the way Thor Odinson had been eyeing him since he confronted the witch.

-0-

The Maximoffs easily agreed to retiring early when prompted. They were all tired. Apparently the hellicarrier wasn't particularly welcoming. The Vision chose to… drift somewhere. The being just phased through a wall after bidding them a rest well. Harley only fixed his Mechanic a raised eyebrow when he was asked if he wanted to retire too.

"Right, introductions!" Tony announced at some point. "I don't think you've formally met my Scienceling."

"Science-ling?" Harley scoffed. "You just call me that because you're taller than me. I haven't hit my growth spurt yet, Mechanic. Just you wait, I know I'm going to be taller than you."

Tony rolled his eyes. "My height is perfectly average, kid, stop implying that it's not."

"You mortals are tiny," Thor responded absentmindedly, then he catches himself when the other Avengers sent him glares. "Compared to an asgardian, I mean. We have been blessed by the Norns to have a physique that would allow us to endure the brutality of the creatures of the realms we preside over." He pauses, then continues when they remain unimpressed. "Not that I am saying that midgardians are weak. I proudly claim you as my shield-brothers."

Captain America took pity on the rambling aesir. "We get that, Thor."

"You said something about introductions?" Colonel Rhodes, now without the armor, cut in to get things back on track.

"Right!" Tony cleared his throat. "Cap, Rhodey, Natashalie, Birdbrain, Point Break, meet Harley. Harley, meet Cap, Rhodey, Natashalie, Birdbrain, and Point Break." He pointed at each person as he said their name.

"Harley Keener, nice to meet you." Harley said because he was more polite than that.

"He actually calls you by your name?" It was Hawkeye-Barton who asked, genuine surprise apparent on his face.

Harley shrugs, smiling in amusement. He's getting the impression Tony only ever called people with the nicknames he makes, because somehow he had missed it. "He calls me 'kid' ninety-two percent of the time." It made him wonder what Pepper's actual name is.

And then they devolve into a question-and-answer thing. Things like how did you meet? How come we've never heard of you? Are you his illegitimate son? Are you sure Stark didn't kidnap you?

It was invasive, uncomfortable, a little bit like an interrogation. But with two spies and two soldiers thrown into the mix, it was almost inevitable.

Tony and Harley take it all in stride, answering in the most convoluted way possible and tag-teaming in confusing the other Avengers. Mostly, it doesn't work. They were immediately called out for their bullshit, but Tony would start off on another tangent that was also bullshit and only about half a quarter of truth.

It was fun.

Somehow, Harley had been ensnared by stoic glamour the Avengers presented. Somehow, he'd let his negative view taint his opinions so much that he'd been too harsh on his assessments of everybody else. He's a little disappointed with himself, a little uncomfortable by being thrown off.

(He's bitter, too, and he doesn't know where it came from.)

There were many things that were unsaid, too many things that the group of superheroes were putting off. The distance was still obvious between them, some interactions stilted and only eased by someone else. He'd lost count how many times the Widow had derisively rolled her eyes at Thor Odinson's careless condescension.

But they continue on for a while, talking and jeering and bragging like nothing happened, until the majority grew too tired to even dispute Tony's claim on being a total badass and taking down villains with christmas ball bombs. (Which was true. Tony even taught him how to make one.)

So, being the only ones to be standing on two feet without stumbling every other minute, Tony and Harley bid them all goodnight.

"By the way," Tony commented out of the blue once they were left alone. "I never realized you spoke anything besides English."

Harley frowns. He knew other languages, obviously. Latin, for one, and a tiny bit of French from someone whose name had something to do with flowers. He never really knew what language Harrhan had spoken, just that he'd understood everything that was said to him. He's confused why his Mechanic would comment on it now.

"I guess?" Harley chose to answer, but there was an unsettling thought forming in his head that felt too familiar, something that made him feel stupid to ignore. A realization that tugged at memories of a boy staring at a snake eye to eye. "I mean, the internet is a huge place. I pick up things easily."

The lie slipped through his tongue without difficulty.

Tony's grimaced a bit exaggeratedly and muttered, "Right. The internet. Makes sense."

Yeah, makes sense, Harley thinks and almost hit himself for missing it.

Pheme (Φήμη) - the personification of fame and renown, her favour being notability, her wrath being scandalous rumors. She was described as "she who initiates and furthers communication."

Nah, it's not Allspeak. Well, not in the conventional Marvel sense. It's, you know, how parseltongue works. Allspeak literally makes it so that everyone understands you and you understand everyone. What Har(rhan, ley) has is more he understands, doesn't realize the language is different, and respond still without realizing he's speaking a different language. Also, he hears the accents, like when there's the lisping thing that delineates parseltongue from normal speech. If there ever is a concrete definition of Allspeak and how it works, I've never read it and am therefore headcanoning my own.

So there! Thank y'all so much for reading! Ily 3000!

(P.S. Paskuhan. If you know what I'm talking about, feel free to hmu. Can't and won't guarantee an entrance tho. Just curious if anyone knows what it is.)

ε=ε=ε=ε=┌(;￣▽￣)┘