#because I doubt AI is gonna get up and fight tomorrow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

baekhvuns · 2 years

Note

No worries bestie it's a member guarantee group order so I'll most likely get Hwa, if not I'm gonna fight all the Shitstars, doesn't matter if they're my friends 🤗

I do remember Top dogg yessss. I would love to see the members from Gugudan and Pristin, CLC too... but doubt

Wow way to expose me, huh...🙉 I saw one photo of Superkind and wasn't sure which one was the AI one, because the picture was so photoshopped akhdjabdhjs. Well but he has pink hair <3 also...a tail(?) that's a choice, hmm and his shirt says PINK DEVIL lol. This is a gimmick and I feel like it might get old pretty quick, but so far the guys seem interesting. The sad part is they're not appearing on music shows because of the AI so that's definitely a downside, they need to figure it out next comeback. Also hmmm

I recently bought this set at Sephora a few days ago, gonna test it out. Sadly I'm very inconsistent with my skincare routine, one day I do 10 different steps another day I fall asleep with my make up on because I'm too tired after a party ☠ I also like Then I Met You - yea it's a brand name, if you're expecting a glow up there's a company called Glow Recipe 👀 there's an older brand called Tony Moly I remember buying a lot of their stuff because at some point you couldn't easily find a huge variety of vegan skincare in SK. My friend who sends me kpop stuff got me their watermelon sugar scrub AND I WANNA EAT IT

Ohhhh miss ma'am is killing it with her outfits, seriously I LOOOOOVE SUITS SO I'M DYING. Koo Ryeon is a true fashion icon though, whoever the stylists on Tomorrow were they killed it with her outfits. Also thanks for putting Soo Hyuk in turtlenecks, coats and vests 😉

So the heatwave got you as well, it wasn't raining here yesterday and today it's already scorching. Also wtf I woke up, looked at my phone without my glasses on thought it was 9:43 so I decided not to sleep anymore, only to see 9am later so it was 8:43 instead 🤯 this happened to me a few times before lmao

Also Ateez is playing a FREE (apparently) gig in Saudi Arabia?! I wonder how long the festival gonna be, but I'm fuming with jealousy nevertheless

BABY

EVIL

Anyways NO MORE ROCKY CONTENT PLEASW FUCK OFF JESYSSSSSHSHHS.

Stop talking about king Hwa especially if he's a cry baby, because I won't be able to control myself 🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻 what do you want me to hack your computer?!

Bestie you're looking AT SHAMPOOS??? I wanna steal that denim outfit, well all his outfits, but what's new. The worst thing is I think we have similar sizes 😭

BBHWA... btw I always read it as baby boy first I'm sorry I'm not normal. Yeah the handsies... 🤲🏻 let me paint your nails sir

I had a dream about Taeyong hahahaha it was winter in my dream, almost had a heart attack and thought it was winter for real.

A quiz for you. This is my result okdhdjdhdsjhddh I can't - DV 💖

hi hello!!!

No worries bestie it's a member guarantee group order so I'll most likely get Hwa, if not I'm gonna fight all the Shitstars, doesn't matter if they're my friends 🤗

SHITSTARS 😭😭😭😭 i support fIGHT for that pc its ur birth right too 🔫

I do remember Top dogg yessss. I would love to see the members from Gugudan and Pristin, CLC too... but doubt

YEAHH I HOPE THEY BRING MORE GG’S BACK IF THE SHOW EVEN CONTINUES

LMFAOOOO 😭😭😭 he’s sO PRETTY kinda looks like a mix of sehun and jeno i wonder if the irl guy actually looks like that 😭😭😭 YES THE PINK DEVIL FJWHFKE AND THE PINK HAIR 😩😩 no fr they need to show us the guy next cb id beg on my knees for it,,,,, oh that looks so similar buT TAEYONG LOOKS MORE AI THAN THE AI ITSELF FBWMF

10 DIFF STEPS??? 😭😭😭🤚🏼 THEN I MET U SOUNDS LIKE A FIC TITLE BFNWBDKS ID BUY IT JUST FOR THAT REASON 😭😭😭 tony moly pls 😭😭😭 DID U EAT IT HAVE U TRIED TOO HOW DOES IT TASTE LIKE FOR SCIENCE FJWKFHEK

So the heatwave got you as well, it wasn't raining here yesterday and today it's already scorching.

FRRRR THE SUITS FIT HER SO GOOD AND SUITS ON WOMEN 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨🤌🏼speaking OG soohyuk,,, this is literally him

Also wtf I woke up, looked at my phone without my glasses on thought it was 9:43 so I decided not to sleep anymore, only to see 9am later so it was 8:43 instead 🤯 this happened to me a few times before lmao

LMFAOOOO BESTIE 😭😭😭😭?????? IS EVERYTHING OKAY AT HOME LMFAOOOO 😭😭😭😭

Also Ateez is playing a FREE (apparently) gig in Saudi Arabia?! I wonder how long the festival gonna be, but I'm fuming with jealousy nevertheless

YEAH AND a lot of ppl aren’t happy abt music concerts being held in jeddah bc of the religion so idk how that will end up but arabteez era stARTING 🤌🏼🤌🏼 if one if them doesn’t say habibi im unstanning on spot 🔫

BABY EVIL Anyways NO MORE ROCKY CONTENT PLEASW FUCK OFF JESYSSSSSHSHHS.

NO FUCK OFF TBWKEJWKDJWK IM NO RJQJFJWDKW stop it bc bodyguard just boxed aND THIS IS NOT HELPING PLS SHELWHDKW HAJIMASAEYO?????

Stop talking about king Hwa especially if he's a cry baby, because I won't be able to control myself 🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻 what do you want me to hack your computer?!

LMFAOOOO 😭😭😭 CRY BABY FOR MISS GIRLIE WHO LOOKS THE OTHER WAY 😭😭😭 HRKWHDKW HACK IT SO U CAN SCROLL THRU IT DRAFTS AND TELL ME WHICH ONE I SHOULD WRITE NEXT DBDB

Bestie you're looking AT SHAMPOOS??? I wanna steal that denim outfit, well all his outfits, but what's new. The worst thing is I think we have similar sizes 😭

THERE WAS LIKE 6 THICK BOTTLES OF SHAMPOO HOW CAN U NOT LOOK WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY CLEANING WITH THAT MUCH THEY BARELY HAVE HAIR WHATS GOING ONBRKWHDK atz the type to use 13in1 shampoo’s <3 RGQNDHWKDH BESTIE STEAL RIGHT AWAY I SUPPORT

BBHWA... btw I always read it as baby boy first I'm sorry I'm not normal. Yeah the handsies... 🤲🏻 let me paint your nails sir I had a dream about Taeyong hahahaha it was winter in my dream, almost had a heart attack and thought it was winter for real.

LMFAOOOO 😭😭😭 HOW DID THE DREAM GO PLS ENLIGHTEN US 🤲🏼🤲🏼🥰

A quiz for you. This is my result okdhdjdhdsjhddh I can't - DV 💖

bestie..SEONGHWA???? 😮‍💨😮‍💨🤚🏼SOULMATES??

for you

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

0 notes

buck-nialled · 3 years

Text

3:1 - B. Barnes Imagine

NOTE: this is my first time writing for bucky or sebastian stan in general so feedback is appreciated! please let me know if you like this and if you'd like to see more. THIS DOES CONTAIN SMUTTY UNDERTONES TOWARDS THE END, MINORS DNI

TAGLIST: I just added sebastian stan/characters to my taglist form so if you already filled it out before just message me and I'll add you to this one.

three times bucky was clueless with technology and the one time he used it right

Despite spending most of his less-than-average life inside of a giant freezer and aging up to triple digits—if we’re speaking technically, your boyfriend still gained many physical benefits compared to most men his age. For one thing, he is still alive and breathing—a huge accomplishment, if anything, maybe even a record. The physical appearance and athletic ability he still maintained were not a downside either. As far as anybody is concerned, James Buchanan Barnes appears like any other millennial/super-soldier/metal arm-bearing person.

With exception to the fact that the man himself can’t even call you on your phone without needing assistance. That sentence is way less sad when taking into account that he was not alive for the upbringing of touch screens and AI’s, which happened to be waiting everywhere around the complex to aid him and his various, enigmatic asks, such as:

“My phone died. How do I revive it?”

“What did I win a free iPad for?”

“Friday, what does the word ‘bih’ mean?”

Once speaking the last one, he is left unanswered, and Friday is alerting you in the living area moments later.

“Y/N, Mr. Barnes is needing your assistance with a text you sent. He would like a definition of the word ‘bih’ but I cannot find it in my dictionary.” The AI asking for your help in babysitting Bucky on his phone earns a snort from you.

“Thanks, Friday. I’ll go help him.” You heave yourself up from the couch cushion and march towards his bedroom--technically, it is both of yours now. After reaching the entrance, a smile crawls onto your lips at the sight before you. The hefty Miriam-Webster English dictionary splayed open on your lover’s lap as he flips through pages, reciting miscellaneous words his eyes land on in search of the one from your message.

“Big, bin, bio…” Seconds later, he is slamming the book shut and tossing it aside. A loud thud resounds across the room as you watch it land on the hardwood floor. When you glance back up to announce your presence to Bucky, you see his gaze already transfixed on you. A quiet huff comes from him, and his eyes avert from your figure in the doorway, his cheeks becoming tinged with an opaque red. It was no puzzle that the sergeant despised calling for help, even on the minuscule tasks, like how to turn the flash of his camera off or define a slang term unbeknownst to him until your message was delivered to his phone.

“A little birdy told me you needed help.” You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the doorframe with a satisfied smirk. You were one of the few and trusted Bucky had learned to open up to in the time that you have come to know him. No matter the issue, or how long it took for you to wear down the stubbornness on his tongue, the plea would sound eventually.

“I just don’t know what this word means.” He grunts. “Is it a typo?”

A line of giggles fall from you at his hopelessly confused expression--eyebrows furrowed, pupils appearing lost in thought at this simple “code word” he couldn’t crack. It made you want to swaddle him in the softest blanket and cuddle him until eternity.

“That’s because it’s not a real word,” you begin through laughs. The scrunch on his face only deepens in its perplexity. “‘Bih’ is short for...it’s short for bitch.” You shrug. His mouth parts in revelation.

“So you...you think I’m a…” he turns his eyes down to the pixelated string of messages…”thick female dog?” You snicker.

“‘Thick bih’ is a compliment, Buck. It just means I like your body a lot.”

“Oh...thank you?” He casts his eyes up at you once more, quirking a brow.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anyways...now that you’re here. I emailed you a photo.” He shoots a wink in your direction. Almost as though you two had traded faces, the confused look transferred over to your wrinkled forehead and tilted head.

“Oh...okay. I’ll check it later.”

You thought nothing of it, and let his statement slip your mind. It was not until later that you decided to scan through your emails with Wanda, who mentioned something mission-related in your inbox that she demanded the two of you look at and study. As you skimmed through to find it, you deleted several junk emails and starred some important ones. When you landed on the electronic mail your boyfriend mentioned earlier and clicked on it, your breath left you at the large photo of his considerably-sized girth.

“Woah! Woah!” Wanda squeals, reaching her hand up to shield her eyes now tainted with the sight of your man’s junk. The early afternoon comes back into your mind, with you against the doorframe, Bucky throwing the dictionary and demanding a translation of your text, and the wink he threw at you.

Of course, the wink. It should have been obvious what the intentions behind his email were at that point, but then again it really shouldn’t have. Because who sends nude photos over email?

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, now wearing red cheeks. You turn to face Wanda who is already out of her seat and facing away from the computer screen, calling back to you in a desperate scurry to her room, “We’ll just talk later!”

“Bucky,” you enter the bedroom with a growl minutes later, a rather great contrast to what you were feeling earlier in the day.

“Hey, doll. Did you ever open my email?” He was seated on the edge of the bed, eyeing something on his phone. He quickly pockets it, allowing you his undivided attention.

“Yeah, and Wanda had something to say about it too.” The comment came out through gritted teeth, but he deciphered every word. His blue eyes enlarged, petrified.

“She was with you? Wh-why’d you let her see it?” He almost squeals in his fit of mortification. Serves him right, you think to yourself. He won’t have to face Wanda and apologize to her later.

“I didn’t know when you said “picture” earlier you meant a nude! Who sends a dick pic over email, Bucky?” Silence follows your outcry until his deep voice pipes up moments later.

“Is that not normal?” He is fiddling with his fingers, clenching his teeth in anticipation of your answer. Which is an expected:

“No.” The man in front of you turns feeble, wearing a humiliated face that turns your insides to mush. The twenty-plus minutes of lashing you were practicing in your head on your walk to the room disappeared as he turns his face down.

“I’m sorry, doll. You know...you know I’m not good with this stuff.” A sigh exits your lips as Bucky is approached by your consoling figure. You take a seat beside him on the bed and a comforting hand takes place on his metal shoulder, with you leaning your head down on the flesh one, closest to you.

“I know, Buck. Just warn a girl next time...with more than a wink.”

“In 1943 that was considered a warning.” The two of you chuckle.

“You know what, better yet...” your hands are flying to his pocket before he can stop them. He barely utters the question before you’re fingertips are tapping across the screen.

“Hey, what’re you--”

“You should really put a lock on this thing.” You chuckle. “A thumbprint, passcode...something.”

“You can do that?” His ludicrous question has you fighting a roll of your eyes. Shaking your head, you wait a few moments for the application to install on the device, and smile triumphantly when the neon yellow square pops up on his home screen. The white ghost in the middle of the icon stares back at him when you place the phone back in his hands.

“There you go.”

“What is this?” He clicks the app to find out for himself, only to be met with the options of logging in or creating an account.

“An app that’s appropriate for sending nudes.” Shivers trail down his spine from your whisper against the shell of his ear. He hums, admiring the screen for a few seconds and taking no further action to make an account.

“You need help, don’t you?”

“It’d be appreciated.”

Since that encounter, your significant other has learned the basics of social platforms and how to properly exploit each one for his needs. Ignoring the one week where he discovered Snapchat filters and send photos of himself in every single one nonstop, the most common one you two have grown to use is the messaging application. It was efficient and easy for him to understand.

Until he, much like when he used Snapchat, discovered something new. And that something new was emojis. After receiving a Snapchat notification from him, which could no doubt be holding either a photo of him with the dancing weiner or his actual one, he shot you a text message from across the compound.

did you see my chatsnap? 🌚

You chose to disregard the blatant, incorrect name and reply:

yes, buck. I get notifications

and WHY THE HELL DID YOU SEND THAT EMOJI??? 😫

what? it’s just a moon 🌚🌚🌚 see?

I can see it’s a moon Bucky. Why did you choose that one?

It’s nighttime. and I’m smiling. It fits.

It’s creepy is what it is

It’s just a moon! 🌚

STOP SENDING IT! 😖😖

fine.

🌝

🤦‍♀️ that’s not what I meant

it’s not my fault you’re scared of the moon, y/n 💅

You chose to change the subject then, no longer holding the desire to stare at the infamous “molester moon” or bucky’s new use of emojis in a sassy manner

please tell me the snap you sent isn’t of the dancing hot dog again

I could tell you that

but I’d be lying if I did.

🙄

🌝 I think this one's my favorite

The third time Bucky struggled with the new-age doodads surrounding him, his rage was at an all-time high. But his reaction is justifiable after discovering it was purely out of fear.

“Do you know what the weather’s gonna be like tomorrow?” He mumbles as the two of you were longing on the bed, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck and shoulder.

“Not sure, why?”

“Was thinkin’ we could go to that café. The one with the jukebox.” His head bounces with your body as you let out a few light laughs.

“Because it’s the one piece of technology you can actually use?” He pulls away from you defensively, a frown smeared on his face.

He whines out. “I am not that bad with technology?” You roll your eyes and reach for your phone on the bedside table, clicking the button on the side.

“Hey Siri, what’s the weather look like tomorrow?” You ask aloud, cueing Bucky to furrow his eyebrows.

“Let’s see...the weather tomorrow—“ you were unable to hear the rest of the AI’s sentence due to the sight of Bucky springing out of bed and tugging the set of sharpened knives from his pants.

“Whose there? Who the hell said that?”

“Bucky—“

“I think the complex may have been hacked. Come on, let’s go get Bruce o-or somebody.” He stutters out in a panic, tugging your body behind him in a protective manner. Siri was still activated on your phone, which was now lying on the bed.

“I’m not quite sure I understand—“

“Who the hell are you?!” He demands in a loud voice.

“Bucky, Bucky…” you rest your hands on both his shoulders, urging him to calm down. “It’s just my phone.” After the quick reassurance, he feels his shoulders slump.

“Oh...oh…I knew that.” He puts his knives away, following you as you crawled back into bed. Before fully getting beneath the covers, he sheathes himself of his trousers and top, leaving him only in a pair of boxers.

“Sure you did.” You reply.

“I did.” He insists, before covering both of you with your comforter. Before succumbing to a much-needed rest though, he reaches over and grabs a knife left on the floor, tucking it beneath his pillow.

Just in case.

The following morning, Bucky is no longer paranoid that the complex was hijacked and broken into. Rather, his mind was on a package he ordered online (AND ALL BY HIMSELF, a large victory if you ask him) that, according to the tracker, is one stop away. When you peeked your eyes open to admire him beneath the covers basking in the morning glow, his mischievous smile lit something warm inside you.

“What’s got you so smiley?” You yawn through languid blinks. He only responds with a shrug, aiming to keep the box a secret.

“Big day ahead, why don’t you go start us a shower. I’ll meet you there.” He smirks, blue eyes flashing with something cunning. At this point, you were even more curious.

“Big day? I thought we were just going for coffee?”

“When I’m with you, it’s always a big day.” His raspy voice is sly, metal hand even slyer as it glides up and down your hip.

“Alright Barnes, you win. See you in a minute.” You press your lips to his for a short few seconds and heave your body up from the bed to venture to the connected bathroom. As soon as you crack the door behind you, Bucky leaps from his spot in the sheets and nearly stumbles to the ground, his foot getting tangled in part of the bedding. He wastes no time scurrying to the front door, nearly nude and praying to God nobody would cross paths with him. Seeing the package laying on the doormat in all its glory--Bucky swore he heard angels singing hymns from above. Taking it into his grip and hustling back to his room took little-to-no time. When he slipped inside of the bathroom, he found you removing your hair from the messy knot you threw it up in the night prior, the rest of you bare.

He dropped his boxers and followed you inside the transparent cube, soon to become fogged with the warm steam and your panting breaths if he is lucky enough to pull another round from you.

Spoiler alert, he got lucky. Twice.

Whilst getting dressed, he halts your attempt at wiggling on a pair of leggings.

"I have a surprise for you." He says, waltzing over to the package he haphazardly threw on the bed in his eagerness to join you in the shower. The package lies in your hands seconds later, Bucky delivering you a nod as permission to tear it open. Once you do, your jaw unhinges at the packaging.

The small, pink sex toy stared back at you in all its glory. You could only muster a few blinks at it, wondering how your boyfriend managed to deliver this to himself all on his own yet still strains himself in trying to change his profile picture.

"Wha--how..." you are at a loss of words, to say the least. His piercing blue eyes grow dark at the sight of you holding his surprise.

"It's a big day today, because..." he snatches the packaged toy from you, beginning to open it, "you're gonna wear this out for me today. And I'm gonna control it." Your eyes grow big at his explanation before they dart to the now unpackaged vibrator.

"There's no remote." You point out, and gasp as Bucky holds up his phone for your eyes to see. The application which connects the controls of the vibrator to his phone stares back at you dauntingly.

"Figured I'd give this wifi-powered one a try. But, you know how I am with technology so...it may take awhile for me to get the hang of it," his tone is sultry as he mumbles, and it sends chills through you that directly target your privates. His eyes bore into yours, still holding that look of playfulness from earlier.

"Finish getting ready, doll. I'm ready to take this thing for a test drive."

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #Sebastian stan imagines #Sebastian stan imagine #Sebastian stan fluff #Sebastian stan smut #Sebastian stan angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader

340 notes · View notes

rubykgrant · 3 years

Text

I’m gonna ramble about the Director and Allison, because I have all these background thoughts with them, and I’m not sure if it’ll come up in my story-line much, but still... I thinks me thoughts-

I’ve never been shy about trash-talking the Director, or as I like to call him, Dr Sadboy McDeadwife. Oh sure, he certainly had a lot of tragedy in his life, he lost people he cared about, and I have perhaps a drop of sympathy for him... but, y’know, he also used his loss as motivation to manipulate and torture people, basically getting everybody around him killed, just to fulfill his own agenda. Basically, he sucks (and I’m not slamming anybody who enjoys his character; we all have a jerk in our favorite collection, and just from a story point of view, he’s a very interesting character). Like many “I’d kill for the one I love” characters, he loses perspective; would Allison want him to turn Project Freelancer into a front for his personal experiments with AI? No, she seems to have been somebody that cared about human life and genuinely wanted people to survive the war. Instead of actually solving problems or protecting people, the Director used Freelancers for gathering equipment, causing all kinds of internal power-struggles on Earth... he even helped start the false “Red Team/Blue Team” propaganda, getting people to sign up for a totally fake war with fake armies but with REAL weapons, which got many of them REALLY killed. The Freelancers robbed office buildings and played capture the flag. Down the road, this created the Flag Zealots and the incident with Temple’s group. Would Allison want him to IGNORE THEIR DAUGHTER, the person who was still alive, the person they had brought into the world together? I very much doubt it. If he HAD somehow gotten Allison back, would she still want HIM? In the end, he finally realized he couldn’t get what he wanted, and so he gave up (in a very final way). Perhaps he saw it as poetic punishment, but... it would have been nice if he had, at least, left behind something besides a legacy of ruin. The first AI he created, Alpha, was gone. As were the others. The only one left was the memories of Epsilon, who still had so many questions regarding what/why/how in terms of his own existence. There were still several Freelancers out there, now wanted criminals on the run for their lives or locked up. The Director saw the AI as extensions of his own mind, selfishly believing that the pain he caused them was also inflicted on himself... they certainly felt his pain and were at times consumed by his obsession (in different ways). However, when he began breaking Alpha into pieces, he didn’t break himself as well each time. While he may have been arguably “punished” for his crimes, he didn’t really apologize for them or attempt to fix anything (and if he’d talked to other people... maybe the truth about Charon would have come out sooner. Chorus could have been saved the bloodiest part of their manipulated war).

Allison is more of an enigma, because although we get to know Tex pretty well, “Allison” as herself is only seen vaguely through the memories of the director, and mentioned briefly by Carolina. We know she wanted to help people. We know that she was often absent from Carolina’s life, and hated to say good-bye. We know she unfortunately died before coming back to her family. If I can simply use my own imagination... I can’t help but think that she was very idealistic, and perhaps something she and the Director shared was poor perspective; she lived in a time when humanity’s survival was low, the outlook dreary. Perhaps when she met somebody who was so eagerly devoted to her, she didn’t hesitate to fall recklessly in love as well. No time to take things slow, the world could end tomorrow. Perhaps she wanted children as soon as possible, because this was the only chance to create a new generation. Even if the previous people didn’t survive, humanity still had a chance. Perhaps she didn’t simply stop fighting and decide to stay at home, because that wouldn’t be fair. So many people weren’t able to be with their children, and if she could help end the war, then EVERYBODY would come home. The Director was overly selfish, but Allison was overly SELFLESS, and it wound up hurting others (obviously, Allison had different motivations, so I wouldn’t quite say she’s “equally at fault”... and it sure wasn’t her fault she DIED). Because she cared so much about so many people, Allison accidentally ignored the person who needed her most; Carolina. She was (presumably) only about 6 years old when her mother died, and even then had not been able to see her very often. Again, I can’t blame Allison for the worst of it, because she wasn’t THERE, but she chose not to be there in the beginning... mostly with good intentions, but she simply didn’t think about the results of her actions. The Director was perfectly aware of what he was doing, and didn’t care. Before these actions started hurting the rest of the world, it hurt a little girl first. Carolina lost her mother AND her father (one unfortunately died, and the other just STOPPED being a parent). Some of this is purely my own brain nonsense, because we just don’t KNOW a lot about Allison, or how much over-lap she could have had with Tex’s personality. Speaking of Tex, I always felt that, in the beginning, Alpha hadn’t intended the Beta AI to be a clone of Allison. It was the Director who began putting his own memories of her into the Beta’s program, and because he was so fixated on her death and “failure”, this is was doomed Tex later on. If there was at least one trait that carried over from Allison to Tex, it was her determination. Even when Tex knew she was probably going to fail, she still TRIED.

#my thoughts #red vs blue #project freelancer #the director #leonard church #allison church #ai fragments #agent carolina

24 notes · View notes

jelly-pies · 3 years

Text

Dancing From Now On

Read on AO3

Pepper remembered their first dance. Contrary to public knowledge, it had not been at the annual Stark Industries gala.

Tony and Pepper's first dance took place months before that, alone at the mansion, late after a long day of work. The music had been Pepper's idea, to relax. But the dance had been Tony's.

"Getting better, Potts." Somehow cheerier than usual, he spun her slowly around the workshop. "Nobody will ever know you had two left feet. Hardly believe it myself, if my toe wasn't still throbbing."

Pepper huffed. "Not all of us could afford dance classes, you know."

"Well, it's not that hard, see? We're just swaying." Tony pulled her in, an inch closer, meeting her eyes. And for one moment, Pepper was purely dancing with the friend she was secretly in love with—not the boss who depended on her, or the playboy whose one night stands she escorted out of the mansion every few weeks. Just Tony. "Just dancing."

Their casual flirting was one thing. But this was getting dangerously close to something else—so Pepper ended the moment. JARVIS stopped the music, and when Pepper looked back after collecting her things, Tony suddenly looked away as if he'd been caught staring.

Maybe he had.

"So, you're good?" Tony asked casually, hands fiddling with some tools he picked up. "No stumbling over anybody's feet at the next gala?"

"We're good." Pepper matched his light tone. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"You're very welcome, Ms. Potts."

"And Tony... " She paused at the door. Did she imagine that expectant look he sent her way, or was it just the lighting? "Um… that contract you still have to look over. Don't show up tomorrow without it."

"Which one?"

"Tony."

He chuckled. "I got it. Have a good night."

Maybe it was just the lighting.

"Good night," Pepper answered, and exited the room with deliberate steps.

She turned back before the landing. Tony was facing away, bringing up holo-screens, flexing his hands—and suddenly she remembered the feel of those calloused fingers against her own, drawing her closer.

Tony looked up. Pepper turned away, determined not to be caught staring.

But maybe she had.

Pepper remembered their first dance. And she remembered how it led to much, much more.

Their second dance, that one was at the Stark Industries Firefighter's Family Fund benefit. A backless blue gown, a little banter, an almost-kiss on the roof. Another moment Pepper ended before anything could begin, even though she half-wished something would begin—had been wishing it those dreadful three months of Tony's disappearance.

As Tony left to get them drinks, Pepper turned away to hide a growing blush. She didn't see the way he looked back at her from the door.

Tony reentered the building, and didn't see the way Pepper looked after his retreating back, either.

Years later on another rooftop, after a disastrous Stark Expo, the kiss became real.

They even had a witness, who deadpanned, "You guys look like two seals fighting over a grape."

Tony put his arm around her as they faced Rhodey, and Pepper couldn’t help thinking how that gesture must make them look like a real couple. She found she didn’t mind. All of a sudden, plans of her resignation as CEO didn't seem so urgent.

Tony turned back to her as soon as Rhodey left and challenged, "How are you gonna resign if I don’t accept?"

Pepper laughed, letting the action release her anxiety and near-death stress and girlish romance. "I…" And Tony was leaning close. She stopped him with a finger on his lips. "Tony, if I don't… we can’t…"

"Come on, it’s us. We’ll figure something out." And there was that look again. Pepper wasn’t so quick to blame the lighting this time. "Ms. Potts?" Tony took both her hands. "Pep?"

It was too late to stop this moment, and Pepper knew it. But the doubt must have still shown on her face because Tony took one look and continued, "Remember when we danced? The first time, Malibu? You crushed my toes about a hundred—"

"Please let that go."

"—but we made it work."

Pepper took a breath. "We did."

Tony smiled, eyes shining—that's how Pepper could always tell if his smiles were real. She could also tell that both of them were done holding back… whatever this was.

"We are pretty good at dancing," Pepper replied.

Tony couldn't see her face as they embraced, but if he did, Pepper was sure he could tell her smile was real, too.

A private night at Stark Tower after the New York attack, that was the third dance. Or fourth, or fifth, maybe. Pepper wasn't sure she needed to count anymore.

She was only sure of two things. Swaying together in their home, with JARVIS playing soft music overhead, her arms around the love she had almost lost—and had accepted she would come close to losing, over and over again, for the sake of saving the world—Pepper was only sure of these: that she wanted herself and Tony to have a thousand more dances to come.

And that she could never know which one would be their last.

They danced that night on yet another rooftop, after the events with the Mandarin.

They didn't dance after Ultron.

Or for several months after that.

But the next time Pepper and Tony finally held each other in their arms, they held on tighter, and neither let go for a long, long time.

This wasn't how Pepper imagined it, for several reasons.

Tony’s smile was different. There was a sadness in them that lingered like ashes, but he smiled anyway, holding her close—which was a feat with Pepper's growing belly, but they made it work.

There were fewer guests. Several seats they left vacant on purpose, scattered around the lakeside like lonely souls. Some people held the belief they were there, in spirit, and that's what mattered. Pepper wasn't so sure; pure sentimentality had prevailed on her to leave the seats out.

Apparently sentimentality ran high this evening. The band played the song she and Tony had first danced to, oh so long ago, in a mansion long since blown to bits, by an AI, a friend, long since gone.

There was no publicity in what had once been anticipated as the event of the decade. A single ray of sun through gray clouds instead of all-around sunshine, in what was supposed to be the happiest day of Pepper and Tony's life.

But the people they loved—those that were left—celebrated with them, and that was enough. A simple reception at their new house, and the wedding was over.

After the lake grew quiet and the stars came out, the newlyweds slow-danced through the night, just the two of them.

This wasn't how Pepper imagined their new life would start. But start it did, with a dance.

"Getting better, Potts," Tony whispered beside her temple, their heads pressed together.

"Not so hard without the floor length gown. I know that was my idea, but God, don’t let me do anything like that ever again."

Tony chuckled and spun her slowly until she faced away, then wrapped his arms around his wife, their four hands interlocking on top of her belly.

Pepper had long lost count of their dances. But she knew this was one she would always remember.

It was Tony who broke the silence. "You guys still here? Scoot."

Pepper turned where he was looking: Rhodey’s wedding presents on the mantelpiece, staring at them—two plushie seals. And she laughed. Tony could always make her laugh.

“Fighting over a grape?” Pepper recalled.

“I never really got that image, to be honest.”

“Hm.” She turned back to Tony, cupped his cheek, and leaned in. “Let’s see about that.”

"That’s it! You’re doing it!" Tony spun their daughter around until the song ended, and Morgan collapsed in giggles on the floor. Tony scooped her up and tickled her with his stubble, making the giggling grow louder.

"Dad!" Morgan laughed. "Mommy, save me!"

Pepper swiftly rescued the toddler, only to drop her on the couch and blow raspberries on her stomach a second later. "In this house—" another tickle, and Morgan squealed— "nobody—escapes—dancing!"

Morgan finally succeeded in pushing her away as FRIDAY started the next upbeat song, and soon all three were back on their feet.

“Not that it's a competition.” Tony walked in. “But she loves me three thousand.”

“Oh, does she?”

“You were somewhere on the low… six to nine hundred range.”

Tony could always make her laugh.

Even the night after the Avengers came to visit. The night their new life, that Pepper knew in her heart could never last long, started to melt away.

Tonight there was no music, no dancing. Only the crackle of the fireplace, the weight of the future, and Pepper’s words hanging in the air— "But will you be able to rest?"

Tony didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to.

But Pepper held his hand, and Tony kissed her cheek. And when they finally went to bed, they held each other tighter.

Tony held her hand, and Pepper kissed his cheek. "You can rest now."

Tonight there was no dancing.

Two cylindrical compartments stood along the garage wall, one of them forever to be empty. In the other, Pepper put her Rescue suit away by herself. Crossing the room, her fingers couldn't help lingering over Tony's reserve helmet—Tony's desk—Tony's tools—Tony's presence. She could always feel it in his workshops.

Their first dance had been in his workshop.

The memory jolted her, pulling Pepper's eyes back to the last gift Tony left: her Rescue suit slumped in its compartment, looking as battered as she felt. Pepper remembered what it was like to take the suit to battle. To fight side by side with her husband, gauntlets firing in sync, guarding each other's back. A team to the end.

Did that count as a dance? Because otherwise, Pepper realized, she didn't remember the last time she and Tony danced.

She remembered their first, though—would always remember it. JARVIS’s song, their wedding song, strained in her ears—she could almost feel Tony's calloused fingers around hers—dancing in his workshop late at night.

But in this workshop, on this night, Pepper could only cry.

Pepper still danced.

She danced with Rhodey, and they leaned on each other, the way they had learned to do long ago.

She danced with Happy, bouncy little head bangs as they cooked Christmas dinner together, and for a moment the house was full of music again.

She danced with Peter, years later at his wedding, whispering "We’re so proud of you" in his ear.

She danced with her daughter. Morgan always pulled her to her feet whenever a lively song came on the radio— "In this house, nobody escapes dancing!" And they laughed. And they danced.

Pepper still danced. Just not with the one person she most wanted to dance with again.

When years had passed, and Morgan was grown, and the house was quiet most hours of the day, Pepper developed the habit of sneaking out on the balcony on clear nights, and looking up at the stars.

Some of her favorite dances with Tony had taken place under the stars. Like the rooftop. And their wedding.

Pepper didn’t remember which dance had been their last. But she remembered the first. And the second. And the thousands that came after that. Maybe that was enough.

In the quiet of the lake house, with only the strains of their wedding song echoing in her ears, and the stars above her, forever her witness—Pepper danced.

- "Ang Huling El Bimbo (The Last [Dance])," The Eraserheads

Lahat ng pangarap ko'y bigla lang natunaw

Sa panaginip nalang pala kita maisasayaw

(All of my dreams are suddenly gone

Only in dreams can we dance from now on)

#THIS IS ENDGAME COMPLIANT BTW #pepperony #pepper potts #tony stark #mcu #fanfic #angst #character death tw #did I have 3+ other wips I started first and wanted to finish first? yes #did I dump my endgame feels on this angsty one-shot instead? also yes #jelly's

106 notes · View notes

duelistkingdom · 3 years

Text

you’d come back to me

chapter four: robotic

[first chapter] [previous chapter] [master list] [next chapter] [read on ao3]

Summary: Seto Kaiba has been presumed dead for four years after the events of Dark Side of Dimensions. His return causes both unresolved feelings of grief to be brought to the surface and the past to be dragged right back up. In hopes of helping Seto move on and reintegrate back into society at large, Mokuba asks Yugi to work on Spherium II with Seto. Never one to leave a friend hanging, Yugi agrees. Over the course of the project, Seto and Yugi both come to terms with their mutual grief and grow towards a better understanding of each other.

Rating: T

Ships: Yugi Mutou/Seto Kaiba, Mokuba Kaiba/Rebecca Hopkins, Katusya Jonouchi/Mai Kujaku

Warnings: aged up characters, grief, references to suicide

consider supporting me on kofi / battle city tiers & above get first access to chapters!

Despite Reiki’s insistence on continued meetings, Seto had been cleared to go back to work for part time hours. He was certain full time hours were being dangled like a carrot in front of him to make sure he kept going to therapy. Despite this annoyance, he was given the chance to escape Rebecca’s general judgemental stares. It seemed like she was purposefully studying at the dining table just to glare at him. As a bonus, he was able to dodge Pegasus’s phone calls.

He wanted to look at his old projects. Maybe now he could finally objectively examine the AI he’d been working on rather than being so…. What was the word he was looking for? It didn’t matter. Seto had other concerns on his mind. He went back to the room that housed the AI, frowning as he realized the setting seemed to appear different. It was so much more golden now. The false stained glass had a more natural light streaming in from it. And he was surprised when the AI entered. The Pharaoh no longer looked as he did when he possessed Yugi.

Instead, he was regal as he had appeared when Seto met him in his court. He might not have been that tall but he was still imposing nonetheless. Seto’s eyes were drawn to the Pharaoh’s arms, where there was smooth dark skin over taunt muscle. The familiar ache pressed in his chest upon seeing him. He forced himself to look at the Pharaoh’s face. The Pharaoh had an easy going smile on his face, tilting his head slightly. “Been a while, Kaiba,” the Pharaoh stated, a smug look on his face. “Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

Seto was a little surprised but figured that it only made sense. He had no frame of reference for how the Pharaoh actually looked in life when he’d last Dueled this AI. Now he knew how the Pharaoh actually looked and the system must have updated with his memories accordingly. This was, after all, as designed. It was supposed to be as close to an actual living person as technology could get.

“You say that as if you can sense the passage of time,” Kaiba remarked, a frown on his face. Could the AI sense the passage of time? Was he better than he thought? Seto nearly rolled his eyes at himself - of course he was that good. At least Seto was being reminded from the jump that he was good at what he did. “Are we going to Duel?”

The Pharaoh smirked and Seto tried to ignore the odd feeling in the pit of his stomach that gave him. “Impertinent as always, Kaiba,” he said as he activated the Duel Disk on his arm. “I’ll let you start first. Give you a fighting chance.”

A surge went through Seto as he activated the virtual system. Still operating smooth enough though he knew it could be better. Almost anything he created could be better. “Fine by me,” he said as he examined his starting hand. Could also be better. He’d need to reexamine his Deck again. There was an option, though. “I’m activating Cards of Consonance, discarding The White Stone of Legend from my hand to draw two new cards. I’m going to end my turn by summoning Maiden with Eyes of Blue! Make your move, Pharaoh.”

“You know,” the Pharaoh said as he drew a card from his deck. “I like your move so much, I think I’ll copy it. I activate Pot of Greed!”

Kaiba raised a brow. “That card’s banned,” he muttered to himself. Was the AI malfunctioning? Or had the banlist changed while he was gone? Perhaps he should give his programming the benefit of the doubt. After all, Seto’s programming tended to be perfect. He should probably simply reexamine the banlist again. “What are you playing at?”

“You’ll see. I’m also activating Terraforming and using it to put Chicken Game in my hand,” the Pharaoh noted and once again, Kaiba was confused. Another banned card? The AI wasn’t supposed to be able to have banned cards in his deck, so Seto decided that he must take another look at the banlist. “I’m activating the effect of Chicken Game, paying 1000 life points to draw a card.” He looked at the card and smirked. “And now I activate One Day of Peace. We both draw.”

“Fine,” Kaiba said, annoyed. One Day of Peace would prevent him from doing any damage to the Pharaoh the next turn. “Can you hurry up, already?”

“Patience is a virtue, Kaiba,” the Pharaoh teased. Seto instantly froze at the sly smirk and raised brow on the Pharaoh’s face. He was certain that he didn’t remember the Pharaoh being this capable of melting him that quickly. Any retort he had died on his tongue. “I’m summoning Witch of the Black Forest and equipping her with Wonder Wand! Now I activate Wonder Wand’s effect, destroying both her and the equipped card, allowing me to draw two cards. Not only that, Witch’s effect activates, allowing me to search a card out from my deck.” He then raised a brow. “And I have bad news, Kaiba. I’ve won.”

“What,” was all Kaiba could get out. “That’s not possible. You just… oh… oh no.”

“You realize what’s happened, don’t you,” the Pharaoh said as he set the five pieces of Exodia right onto his Duel Disk. Exodia the Forbidden One. How the hell did that happen? Kaiba tried to go over the moves in his head before realizing just how obvious what he was doing was. “Exodo Hell Flame!”

Seto’s entire mind was reeling. Surely this was just based on his memories of the Pharaoh doing this exact move to him during their first duel. Yet… no. It was just an improved version of the Exodia stall that he’d done to him already. Surely he was just thinking about it and the program reacted accordingly, even providing the updated strategy. Why was he so uncomfortable now? “End program,” Kaiba shouted, unable to properly modulate his voice. He had to just calm down, right?

That was exactly it. He was overthinking this simply because the program had dredged up an old wound that never fully scarred over. If he could simply relax, then maybe he could come back again to practice properly tomorrow. Maybe he should look into getting a hotel room tonight and attempt to remotely access the code to make sure he was right about his assumptions. He didn’t want to see Rebecca’s judgemental face again - even less so when he was obsessing about something new.

Of course he’d run into Yugi trying to get out of Kaiba Corp. ‘Run into’ was a fairly apt description as he’d more or less crashed into Yugi. “Watch where you’re going,” Yugi snapped as he got up from the floor. Unfortunately for Seto, Yugi had his sleeves rolled up, revealing that he, indeed, had nice arms. “Are you just gonna stare at me like an idiot or are you going to get up?”

Must Yugi be so insulting? Surely he wasn’t staring at Yugi for that long. “You could have moved,” Kaiba retorted. “Why didn’t you move?”

“I was walking the hallway the way a normal person does,” Yugi said, still having to stare upwards to properly look Kaiba in the eyes. Sure, Yugi was no longer five foot even. Seto, however, was still six foot one and had a height advantage still. Seto was grateful for that. He didn’t know if he could have handled it if Yugi could look him right in the eye without craning his neck upwards. “You were the one who came running down the hallway like a madman. What are you in such a hurry for?”

“I’m not,” Seto said, unhappy that he was obviously blushing. He was, indeed, in a hurry to get out of here. He needed some alone time to think. “I just… have to go.”

Yugi tilted his head and Seto was a little annoyed at how similar it was to the Pharaoh’s head tilt. Must they both have such similar hair? Such similar features? It made it difficult to tell if the feelings Seto was having was simply because of how he’d felt for the Pharaoh or because of something uniquely Yugi.

“You just got here only a few hours ago,” Yugi said, as if trying to puzzle something out. Seto felt instantly exposed. “Why would you rush back home when you’d spent so long trying to even get these part time hours? You know, Mokuba seems to think you and Rebecca don’t get along. Is that not the case?”

Why was Mokuba telling Yugi about how he and Rebecca were getting along? Why would Yugi care? It was none of his business. “It’s none of your business,” Seto snapped. “You shouldn’t be poking in other people’s business.”

“It’s my business if my friend’s girlfriend and my friend’s brother aren’t getting along,” Yugi said, a vaguely amused look on his face. “You know, friends tend to care about things like that. Have you forgotten that Mokuba and I are friends?”

It took Seto awhile to realize that “my friend’s brother” referred to him. There had once been a point when Yugi would visit him when he was in the hospital. This time, Yugi had only visited once and it had been with Mokuba. Had Yugi given up on him? He didn’t know why that thought hurt. “No,” Seto said, clipped. “I hadn’t forgotten.”

“Then are you and Rebecca getting along?”

Seto paused. The truth of it was that Yugi was absolutely right - he and Rebecca were not getting along well. In fact, he’d been considering getting a hotel room for the longest time now. Unfortunately, he had to wait to get his credit cards reissued and a new ID. He’d gotten the new ID yesterday. It had felt strange to look at his passport and see that it claimed he was twenty-one. Time had passed for the rest of the world and stood still for him. Yugi and he were now years apart. Mokuba had grown up in his absence and was now eighteen. It tore him apart. It was unimportant.

“We’re getting along just fine,” Seto said. He wanted to ask why Yugi no longer considered them friends. He was scared of the answer. “Are you done prying?”

Why were Yugi’s eyes like that? He swore that the depth of them might drown him. He swore Yugi knew more than he ever let on. “Suppose I am,” Yugi said. Seto tried to avoid noting the shape of Yugi’s lips when they formed words. He wondered if Yugi was still as good at Dueling as he was four years ago. “You should tell Mokuba you’re leaving early.”

He couldn’t get out of the building fast enough. Maybe it was weird to show up at a hotel and demand a room for the night without any luggage but Seto couldn’t find it in him to care about the optics. The room they’d given him had a single bed and was as empty as any hotel might be. He threw himself onto the bed, looking up at the plain ceiling as the thoughts swirled through his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about the AI taking on the proper form of the Pharaoh and it was an uncomfortable thought. He thought about the thoughts he never tried to think about. The ones that entered his head when he was all alone with no buffers.

Seto hated that these thoughts still had control over him. He refused to let them hold him. He wouldn’t let them hold him. And yet… he couldn’t help but go right back to the thoughts of the Pharaoh’s arms… wondering how his hands might feel on him. A weakness he might never be able to get rid of. He was alarmed when the fantasy managed to warp as the memory of Yugi’s sharp, all knowing eyes came back up. Yugi, who could always see right through him. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t care. Why didn’t Yugi consider them friends anymore? At one point, Yugi had been so insistent on shoving friendship upon Seto. So insistent that they were friends regardless of Seto’s objections.

Now he ached for what he didn’t realize he’d miss. Had he lost out on any chance of fixing that relationship? All he knew was that he desperately needed a cold shower right now.

“Kaiba left early,” Yugi said as he entered Mokuba’s office, tossing the new proposal for Spherium II onto the young CEO’s desk. Mokuba actually looked a little tired. He wondered if the stress was finally getting to Mokuba. “I got the new proposal done, by the way.”

Mokuba glanced up from his computer. “I guess he didn’t appreciate the adjustments you made to the AI’s deck,” Mokuba remarked. “I’ll take a look over the proposal. Did you decide on a new deck for the AI?”

“How did the AI work with the Exodia deck,” Yugi asked as he flopped right into one of the chairs Mokuba had for guests. He didn’t know how this office looked when Seto occupied it but Mokuba had touches of his personality all over the place. The glass cases were filled with hundreds of Capsule Monsters and the oak bookshelves had comic books which Mokuba had been collecting since he was a kid. The chairs were all the same - comfy and oversized. “If it can’t handle the Exodia deck, then we can’t start on more complex archetypes.”

“Seems it pulled off a first turn kill against Seto,” Mokuba said as he turned the monitor around so Yugi could see what was on it. A recording of Seto’s duel played and Yugi’s heart constricted as he noted that the AI now looked exactly as Atem did in life. He tried to ignore that as the AI immediately pulled through the draw combo, obtaining all five pieces in exactly one turn as Mokuba said. “What were you thinking for the next deck?”

Yugi grinned as he looked over at Mokuba. “There’s a few decks that I’m sure will keep Kaiba from noticing anything amiss for the next time he Duels the AI but… there’s one archetype in particular that I’m certain Kaiba will just love.”

Seto knew that he wasn’t making good choices right now but it seemed like every time he dueled the Pharaoh now, he was getting more familiar with the current cards. He found that the AI was rapidly improving in its ability to play other decks. This was something Seto was excited about. Something in his code was responding well to being given new decks to use. It was like Dueling an actual, living person that was capable of understanding card advantage and how to best use the cards in the deck.

Coupling this with the fact that Seto was still trying to get back into the swing of things, he had a perfect excuse for why he needed to keep Dueling the Pharaoh. After all, it’d been four years. He needed practice to get better at the game. If he ever hoped to return to the tournament circuit, this was what he needed to do. That was what he told himself, anyway.

He had a long list of excuses as to why this made perfect sense to do. Sure, kc_blimp had a lot of helpful insights as to what the new meta was but… as far as Seto was concerned, the best way to learn the new archetypes was to actually Duel them.

That was all there was to it. As usual, the Pharaoh was smirking when Kaiba entered the room. This time, however, the room was the palace throne room where Kaiba had challenged Atem. He’d long accepted that the room seemed to change. He made a mental note to examine the code later to see if he could make it more stable rather than randomizing locations from his memories.

“Kaiba,” the Pharaoh said with a slight nod, his earrings twinkling in the light and making quiet clacking noises against the gold on his neck. “I see you’re here for another beat down. You know, you’ve gotten worse at Dueling.”

“Shut up,” Seto said, his cheeks turning pink. It was hard to remain stoic when he knew that the Pharaoh had a point. He hadn’t managed to actually beat any of the modern control decks he’d given the Pharaoh. In this new meta, he discovered aggressiveness was indeed better but the Pharaoh was prepared for this strategy. This was actually useful, however. The Pharaoh was, after all, the best Duelist Kaiba had ever known. It pushed Kaiba to do better each time and sometimes, he got close. Close enough where he knew the fault had been that he’d misplayed his hand. “Maybe if I go first this time..”

“You’ve tried going first already,” the Pharaoh reminded him, raising a brow as he activated his Duel Disk. “Are you ever going to give up?”

Of course not. Seto was nothing if not stubborn. He had a plan this time, however. He’d recently added Call of the Haunted to his deck, a card that had been at the suggestion of kc_blimp for a beatdown deck. And yet, when he drew his first hand, he knew this was going to be an uphill battle. He remembered that kc_blimp said that if he couldn’t summon any monsters on turn one, he'd basically already lost against a turn two deck. Kaiba already had experience with that kind of humiliating defeat against the Pharaoh already. “I set a card,” Kaiba said, well aware it wouldn’t be enough to set a trap. He needed a chance to summon. “I end my turn.”

“Is that really all you have, Kaiba? I expect better of you,” the Pharaoh said with a jovial smile that made Seto’s heart skip a beat. He reminded himself that this was just a Duel with no deeper meaning to it. “In that case, I’m going to set a card. I’ll activate this card, Dragonmaid Welcome. With it, all my Dragonmaid monsters gain 100 attack and defense for each one I control. That’s not all it does but, well, that’s all you need to know for now. Next I summon Laundry Dragonmaid!”

Kaiba had never heard of any of these cards before. He didn’t recall giving this deck to the Pharaoh but he must have. He was surprised when Laundry Dragonmaid was… a girl with dragon features in a purple outfit. He assumed that she might’ve been considered attractive to someone that happened to like girls. In fact, he noted a lot of the newer decks featured girls that Seto assumed were meant to be attractive. She giggled and winked at Kaiba. He recoiled.

“Is that all,” Kaiba asked, surprised to note that the boost only gave her a 600 attack and that she was a level two monster.

“Oh Kaiba, you know better than to assume that’s all there is to my turn! Her effect activates, sending the top three cards from my deck to my graveyard,” the Pharaoh remarked and discarding the top three cards from his deck.

Was milling part of the Dragonmaid strategy? He remembered kc_blimp stating Lightsworn and Twilightsworn heavily relied on milling and that many newer decks had floating graveyard effects similar to cards he’d used in the past. “Next I’m discarding Dragonmaid Tinkhec to activate her effect and give Laundry Dragonmaid an additional 2000 attack! Now, she’ll attack you directly!”

Laundry Dragonmaid’s gleeful demeanor was perhaps the worst part of the direct attack. It hurt and she laughed as she managed to dig her claws deep into Seto. “So you got a new dragon girlfriend,” Seto hissed as he doubled over, holding his chest while his life points went from 8000 to 5400. He wasn’t doing great and he was livid that part of it was simply because of a poor starting hand. He needed to further examine his deck to see how to best avoid this in the future. “Am I supposed to be jealous?”

“Interesting takeaway,” the Pharaoh noted with a grin and a wink at him that sent a flutter in Kaiba’s chest. He hated that even now, the Pharaoh continued to have an effect on him. “Last I checked, she was definitely flirting with you. I end my turn, by the way.”

Seto growled as he drew a card, examining it. Protector with Eyes of Blue. “Fine,” he said. Laundry Dragonmaid blew him a kiss. Once again, he was irked. Maiden with Eyes of Blue was never this unprofessional. It took him a moment to realize he was berating the behavior hologram of a trading card. Who programmed these Dragonmaid cards? Did they all act like this? He made a mental note to look into who programmed them and have them fired.

“By the way, I’m activating my continuous trap, Dragonmaid Downtime,” the Pharaoh remarked casually, as if asking what Seto planned on having for lunch. “With it, I can bounce your cards back to your hand by simply bouncing my own back to my hand. I’ll return Laundry Dragonmaid and bounce your set card.”

It was then he was reminded of another thing kc_blimp said about most traps carrying floating graveyard effects, thus the desire to avoid actually destroying them. In the same message, kc_blimp also claimed that people should not expect to be able to activate traps on their turn. That it was apparently too slow of a strategy to work and Seto was starting to see why. His card returned to hand and he had no hope of activating it this turn.

“Fine,” Seto said again, noting that Protector’s effect might actually be useful… if he had another Light Tuner or a Blue Eyes White Dragon in his hand. It did, however, have more attack points than the Pharaoh’s Dragonmaid. “I’m summoning Protector with Eyes of Blue to the field!”

The Pharaoh raised a brow, a sly smirk on his face. “Nice card,” the Pharaoh teased. “I would think that your type would be a little more dragon and a little less knight, however.”

“Shut up,” Seto said reflexively, knowing that he shouldn’t attack because he didn’t know the full effects of either continuous card on the field. For all he knew, they could stop him from attacking directly. At the moment, Seto didn’t care. He was flustered and angry. “I’m attacking directly!” To his great surprise, Protector’s direct attack landed, dropping the Pharaoh from 8000 to 7200 life points. Seto gave a light ‘tch’. “Surprised you let me do that.”

Of course the Pharaoh hadn’t even flinched from the attack. He merely shrugged. “I thought I would even the playing field a bit.”

“Whatever you say, Pharaoh,” Seto huffed, unsure what the Pharaoh had planned next. This archetype was unfamiliar to Seto and he still was trying to figure out how the effects synergized without knowing the rest of the decklist. He needed to figure out the win condition of this deck. “I end my turn.”

“My turn, then.” The Pharaoh drew a card, a raised brow appearing on his face. “I’m afraid you’ve been playing right into my hands, Kaiba. I’m discarding Dragonmaid Ernus to activate her effect, allowing me to special summon Laundry Dragonmaid back to the field, leaving me a normal summon! Say hello to Nurse Dragonmaid!”

This time, a low level girl with dragon features in pink appeared, giggling and leaning over to whisper something to Laundry Dragonmaid. Both of them had 800 attack, meaning neither of them could destroy Protector with Eyes of Blue without destroying themselves. What was the Pharaoh playing at? Suddenly, Nurse Dragonmaid winked at Kaiba as Laundry Dragonmaid laughed. “I still have the upper hand,” Kaiba responded, clipped. “You’d have to crash one of your monsters to get my life points and that would reduce the other’s attack by 100.”

Both Dragonmaids looked offended by this statement of fact. “Looks can be deceiving, Kaiba,” the Pharaoh responded. “I’m entering my Battle Phase and that causes Laundry Dragonmaid’s effect to activate, special summoning Dragonmaid Nudyarl! Now Dragonmaid Downtime activates, bouncing Nurse Dragonmaid back to my hand and sending your set card back to your hand!”

Kaiba was surprised as he watched Laundry Dragonmaid transform before his eyes into the massive purple dragon, swirling in front with a snarl. Nurse Dragonmaid gave a cheek wave as she dissolved and Kaiba’s set card once again bounced back to his hand. So much for battle traps, Seto thought acidly. The dragon’s stats were good - a level seven with 2700 attack that could easily destroy his monster. “I see,” Seto said. It seemed that the girls themselves were not there for attack but instead to bring out these new monsters. “Clever.”

“Nudyar, attack Protector with Eyes of Blue,” the Pharaoh said. Instantly, Nudyar’s mouth opened, a stream of water washed away Protector and destroyed him. Kaiba gave a soft ‘tch’ as his life points drained down from 5400 to 3500. He was already calculating in his head what he would need to do to counter something like this. “That ends my turn.”

Kaiba drew and was semi grateful for what he grabbed. “I activate Cards of Consonance to discard the White Stone of Legend,” Kaiba said as he started thinking about the best way to handle what the Pharaoh had out. “That allows me to draw two. And because I discarded the White Stone of Legend, I can add a Blue Eyes White Dragon to my hand. Next, I summon Maiden with Eyes of Blue!”

Maiden appeared, flipping her long white hair over her shoulder and glaring down the massive dragon in front of her. As per usual, she was strictly professional. “You really like your Blue Eyes cards, don’t you,” the Pharaoh remarked, a raised brow. “Just like Priest Set did, actually.”

Seto’s blood went ice cold at the mention of Priest Set. He’d met some of the Priests when he’d journeyed to the afterlife and yet… he still felt a disconnect from the reality of the Pharaoh’s existence. It meant that magic was real. He pushed it aside again. “Whatever,” he responded as he set Call of the Haunted and Rage with Eyes of Blue. Perhaps he might stand a chance. “I set two cards and end my turn.”

“My turn! I resummon Nurse Dragonmaid. And now I activate Dragonmaid Welcome to add Parlor Dragonmaid to my hand. Next I’m discarding Dragonmaid Lorpar to negate Maiden,” the Pharaoh remarked and instantly Seto internally swore.

“You targeted Maiden,” Seto said, well aware that Rage with Eyes of Blue cannot activate now. “Her effect activates, summoning Blue Eyes White Dragon to the field.”

The familiar look of the white glow filled the field from Maiden and Blue Eyes White Dragon came out onto the field, snarling at the Pharaoh. “Ah,” the Pharaoh remarked, a raised brow. “In that case, I’m entering the battle phase, activating Nurse Dragonmaid’s effect to special summon Dragonmaid Enrus! And now I discard Dragonmaid Tinkhec to boost Ernus!”

Dragonmaid Ernus was a dragon of a similar shape to Dragonmaid Nudyarl and unfortunately, when boosted, she now had 4800 attack - more than enough to end the duel. At least now he understood the win condition of the Dragonmaid archetype. Seto closed his eyes, and whispered, “Of course.”

“Enrus attacks Blue Eyes White Dragon,” the Pharaoh said and Seto refused to watch as his Blue Eyes White Dragon was destroyed. Even if he activated Call of the Haunted, it wouldn’t matter. Maiden had 0 attack points and her effect was a hard once per a turn. The effect had been used up and now she was defenseless. Seto had no way of redirecting the attack. “And now Nudyral destroys Maiden!”

“End program,” Seto said quietly as his life points hit 0. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in an empty room and left with only thoughts of how to best rearrange his deck. Focusing on that helped as he turned and walked out.

#rivalshipping #rivalshipping fanfiction #dm rivalshipping #duel monsters rivalshipping #dm rivalshipping fanfiction #myfanfic #fic: you'd come back to me

12 notes · View notes

moonstruckbucky · 5 years

Text

The Recruit (1/?)

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings: More prickly Steve. And Bucky! This is a Bucky-heavy chapter.

Notes: I don’t do taglists so please don’t ask.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Your back hits the mad hard, air knocked from your lungs in a breathy grunt, followed quickly by, “fuck.”

“Again,” orders Captain Rogers, voice hard as granite and expression stony. “Do it again.”

Your hand twitches with the urge to flip him off as you catch your breath. Your muscles, tired and sore from the two-hour training session, protest as you sit up, accept the hand your opponent, Alice, extends to you. You take your stance, a little pressure building in your knee, and attempt to take Alice down again.

Your face burns with shame when you end up on your belly, arms pinned behind you as the taller woman rests on your backside. Captain Rogers sighs a groan, shaking his head with disapproval clear in his eyes. You pointedly don’t look at him.

“What is so difficult for you to get?” he questions stiffly. The weight on your back is gone, Alice smartly occupying herself elsewhere across the gym. You’re thankful. This chewing out is going to be rough. You grimace as you stand, your knee flaring up at the extra exertion it isn’t used to. “Hm?”

“It-It’s my knee, Captain,” you reply meekly, and you know it’s the wrong answer without even looking at him. You can practically feel him tense before you, arms behind his back like he’s a drill sergeant and not a superhero.

“Your knee. Your blaming your incompetence on your knee. Sergeant Barnes is missing an arm and he seems to be able to do what he needs to,” the Captain snaps, drawing the eyes of said Sergeant, as well as the agents he’s training. You feel their eyes on you, your face getting hotter in humiliation.

You close your eyes, feel the sting and pressure of tears behind them, and duck your head. You won’t let him see you cry. You can’t.

It’s been this way for eight months. A near-constant onslaught of scathing remarks, harsh criticisms, and a stubborn refusal to be a little compassionate. Captain Rogers is the goddamn devil, and more than once you’ve thought about requesting a transfer to get away from him. You know you’re not a perfect agent, but you’re confused on why he’s seemingly singled you out. Your injury? It only acts up when really pushed - and he’s been pushing you hard and ragged since you joined SHIELD.

“Get it together, Agent.” The way he says it is venomous, as if it even tastes acrid on his tongue. “Or I’ll see to it you never see the field. Dismissed.”

He spins on his heel and struts out of the room. The door echoes as it slams closed behind him. Lip wobbling, throat tight with the barely-restrained tears, you begin to gather your belongings. Movements made stiff by the painful protest in your knee.

You can hear the others whispering, murmuring, no doubt joining in with the ridicule of your clear incompetence. You can’t help it, a tear spills over and you choke on a quiet sob.

“That’s enough.” Sergeant Barnes’s voice is booming as he addresses the trainees. The murmurs stop. “That’s it for today. I’ll see you all tomorrow for marksmanship. Dismissed.”

You hurry your movements despite the pain when you hear him walking over to you, no doubt to tell you you should find another career. That you’re just not cut out to be an agent. He’ll be nicer than Steve about it, but it’ll sting nonetheless.

“Are you all right?” is what he asks instead, voice soft and gentle. You can see him in your peripheral, dark sweatpants, black t-shirt, but you can’t look at him. Nodding stiffly, you attempt to school your features into something stoic, limp to your gym bag. “Your knee is acting up.”

You remain silent, bag slung over your shoulder, but stay still, waiting for him to officially dismiss you as an agent. It doesn’t come.

“I’ve got a salve that might be able to help,” he offers, still gentle as he takes a small step forward. At this, your eyes snap to his.

They’re brighter up close, lighter too. The shade closer to ice than the ocean after a storm like so many of your comrades had described. Dark hair pulled back into a bun with a few strands framing his face. He looks nothing like the Bucky Barnes from your history books now.

“Shuri gave it to me in Wakanda,” he explains further, and then he gestures to his left shoulder, empty of an arm. “For the scarring and the aches. ‘S why I don’t always have the arm on. Bothers me sometimes, but the salve helps. If you want?”

You feel your mouth opening and closing, trying to form words but you’re not really sure what to say. It’s not what you’d been expecting him to say, after all.

“You’re not firing me?”

The Sergeant’s mouth quirks up a little, eyes glittering with amusement.

“No,” he says with a little laugh, “I’m not firing you.”

You stare dumbly at him for a while - long enough that he tilts his head, face contorting into a concerned frown. He reaches out and shakes you a little, jolting you back to yourself.

“Oh. Um, why?”

“Why?” He’s smirking again and oh no, you’re making an idiot out of yourself in front of the Winter Soldier. “Why would I fire you? Because of your knee?”

Your face warms again as you become sheepish, shrug half-heartedly and wince when he barks a laugh.

“You’re funny. Come on. Go get changed and then come to the tenth floor. I’ll have FRIDAY give you clearance.”

Bucky begins walking away, leaving you to watch, a little shell-shocked, as he goes. Mind reeling, you manage to get your feet moving towards the locker room. Inside, you’re bombarded by the other recruits, who’ve hung back to see what’s become of you.

“What did Sergeant Barnes say?” asks one, curious.

“Is there something going on with you and James?” says another who you pointedly sidestep, not liking the slight sneer on her face.

You manage to dodge their questions long enough to pull your day clothes from your locker and shut yourself away in the shower. As you stand under the spray, the warm doing little to help your now very sore knee, the women’s voices begin to fade as one by one they trickle out of the locker room. Sighing a little in relief, you finish your shower in quiet peace, dry off, and get changed.

You make your way to the elevator, though when you’re inside and you request the tenth floor, FRIDAY says, in as regrettable a tone as an AI can manage:

“I’m sorry, but you haven’t clearance for this level.”

“O-Oh. Um, I thought Bucky was…?”

Before she can answer, the doors open again and Wanda Maximoff steps in, looking surprised to see you. Wanda had been an unexpected friend - new to the Avengers, you met in one of your training sessions. She’d wanted to learn hand-to-hand, to not rely solely on her abilities in case they were ever compromised. While hand-to-hand wasn’t your forte either, she was having particular difficulty learning how to punch properly. That much you could manage to correct her on, and it began a pleasant friendship.

“Oh, hi?” she says, slightly unsure. It’s rare that agents below the Avengers ever use the elevator - restricted access and all that.

“Hi Wanda,” you mumble, sighing with a small shake of your head. The brunette frowns. “Um, I thought...Bucky said he had something for my knee, but I guess he forgot or maybe he was just being nice or it was just a joke but, uh, I’m gonna go now.”

A red cloud surrounds you as Wanda locks you into place. She’s smiling gently.

“Nah, it’s okay,” she says, accent light. “He did mention something but he got caught up with Steve. I’ll bring you up.”

“Thanks. How’s your training going?”

She shrugs, pursing her lips. “About as well as can be expected I suppose? I still haven’t gotten Nat’s move down just yet.”

Huffing a laugh, you reply, “I don’t think anybody but Nat can nail that move.”

“Perhaps, but I’m determined to try. How about you? Your knee’s bothering you, isn’t it? You should say something to Steve.”

Scoffing, you give her a look. “No fucking way, and be the laughing stock of my group? No thanks.”

“Come on, Y/N. You don’t think he’d really do that would you?” She holds up her hands when you merely raise your eyebrows, frowning deeply.

“The man hates me. I don’t know why, but he does.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case, but I won’t fight you on it. He’s just…prickly.”

“Understatement of the year.”

She smiles gently as the doors open onto the tenth floor. “Come find me after. FRIDAY, give her access.”

“Yes, Ms. Maximoff,” lilts FRIDAY’s voice.

“See ya, Wands.”

Bucky’s is the only door on the floor, and it’s ajar, soft jazz music flowing from the doorway. You find yourself a little surprised, but only just - he is a man out of time, after all. You suppose you might’ve pinned him for a classic or hard rock fan, but jazz is just as good.

You knock lightly on the door frame, call out, “Bucky?”

“In here, doll!” he replies, muffled from around the corner.

Taking a step in, you observe his living space. The Winter Soldier’s living space. The Bucky Barnes’s living space. Ooh, if you’re comrades could see you right now. His space is neat, tidy, bed made and you know it’s a habit from the army. Very little in the way of decor - a couple photos of Captain Rogers and him from the 40s, a few drawings framed.

You step closer to one - it’s Central Park, clearly, etched in black ink and beautiful. Blossoming flowers, a bench with a lone figure sitting as the world bustles by around him.

Something clatters in the bathroom, and you turn towards it. Bucky is kneeling on the floor, a few bathroom supplies scattered around him. He stands, jumping a little when he sees you.

“Hi!” His greeting smile is bright, and you feel your heart give a small tug. He jiggles the tube, the salve you guess, and says, “Found it.”

He crosses the room in a few strides, extends the nondescript black tube out to you. “Apply it before and after your training sessions, and just before bed. Works wonders, I’ll swear by it.”

Smiling tentatively, you gesture behind you at the drawing. “I didn’t know you could draw.”

Bucky chuckles, a little color in his cheeks. “Oh, that’s not me. I, uh, I’m pretty awful at drawing. Tried to do it during the war, pass the time, ya know? But it didn’t take. Nah, that’s Steve’s work.”

Your smile falters, stumbling off your face at the knowledge you were admiring Captain Rogers’s work - prickly, dickish, self-righteous Captain Rogers, and you’ve just learned something very personal about him. You’re uncomfortable, shifting on your feet as the mood in the room changes. Bucky picks up on it instantly.

“He’s not that bad,” he tries to assure you, but he sighs when you give him a look that says he failed.

“Why does he hate me so much? He’s much harder on me than the others, and it’s not just because of my knee…”

Bucky sighs, can only shrug a little helplessly because even he doesn’t know what goes through Steve’s head most of the time. He has an inkling of what’s got Steve so tied up in knots as far as you’re concerned, but without downright asking him and risking exposure to one of his infamous mood swings, Bucky won’t know for sure.

“I wish I could tell you, doll.” And he does, because that frown pinching your face makes something in his gut twist. Slowly, a bit hesitantly, he reaches out and lays his hand on your shoulder, body heat seeping into his palm. You look up at him, big doe eyes clouded with a feeling of inadequacy, an insecurity of not being good enough.

He knows because he’s felt that - still feels it from time to time. Despite being an obvious member of this team, he still feels sometimes like the outsider - watching the others interact, the familial intimacy between them all. They’ve included him in everything, don’t get him wrong, but there’s something comforting about having that shared bond, a bond that only comes with time.

“Let me know how the salve works for you okay?” he says after a few minutes of silence. The two of you evaluating the other, a new shared insecurity connecting the two of you.

That soft smile is back on your face, and Bucky feels lighter. “I will, Sergeant Barnes. Thank you.”

“Bucky, please. I’m not really a sergeant anymore…”

A twinkle in your eye, a rapid shift of mischief, and then it’s gone, hidden behind that innocent smile again.

“Bucky it is then.” And god if it’s not the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

Chapter Two

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x you #steve x reader #the recruit #steve rogers angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #steve rogers fluff #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut

2K notes · View notes

amyrose051 · 4 years

Text

Radio Calls. BELLAMY BLAKE

this was not requested & im writing this before 7x12. i saw the promo and i decided to do a bellamy x reader. && if anything in this doesn’t make sense please ignore it, i’m a little confused about this season😂 this is reallyyyyy bad but i just liked the promo so🤷🏼‍♀️

19/08/20

Gif isn’t mine

The flame. Well, the flames. You could remember when your parents gave you the flame which your grandma had previously had. The nightblood gene was passed down to you from her and so was the flame. You could remember the stories your grandma told you about her sister and how she made them both a flame in an attempt to stay connected.

But it didn’t work for her as Becca said might happen. Something about her brain may not be capable to attach to it. She kept it though and told you to have it after she passes so you’d always have her with you and of course there was a chance that your brain would welcome the flame unlike your grandma’s.

To your parents surprise, your brain did accept the flame. They thought it might be because you were more open to having it then your grandma who was always skeptical about it. But when your brain accepted the flame, it was hell. All the memories, from Beccas AI, of the past flame holders (what you came to know as commanders) flowed your mind. To say it was overwhelming would be an understatement, you stayed in bed for a week.

You couldn’t actually communicate with the present commander but you could see some of her most sufficient memories. You knew there was life on earth but you and your parents couldn’t tell anyone. You were different to them, and people don’t like different because they aren’t similar with it and not being similar with something can be scary to some. Your parents weren’t going to risk losing you when you could manage on the ark for a couple more years.

But now the commanders flame was gone, the memories didn’t stop. They’d come when you were most stressed or angered or upset. You had tried fighting against them but it made you to light headed and brought on a nose bleed. Recently, after learning about Bellamy’s death, the memories seemed constant.

You sat in one of the disciples rooms on bardo, head placed in your hands. Your mind was having a battle of it’s own of whether it should replay past commanders memories or Charmaine Diyoza’s death. So far it settled to shuffle between them every time you close your eyes. You were separated from your friends but you weren’t sure why. You were just hoping that ‘the shepherd’ didn’t doubt that Clarke has the other flame in her head.

The coolness of the wall pressed against your back gave you some sort of relief but you quickly tensed back up when you heard the door opening. In walked Bill Cadogan with two of his loyal followers behind him. You jumped up from where you sat on the floor, ready to fight if it was needed. “What do you want? Where are my friends?”

“You know what we want Y/N. You’re one half of the key to winning the last war. We thought it best to separate you to them for the time being so you all wouldn’t try and escape. You wouldn’t leave without them and vice versa.” They were smart, you’d give them that. “But unfortunately for you and your friends we now know that Clarke isn’t the other half of the key.”

Your face remained still trying not to give anything away. They could be bluffing? Right?

Cadogan sighed before continuing, “You don’t believe us. Well, i guess we’ll just have to prove it to you then.”

Eyebrows scrunching together, you looked towards the door where you could hear approaching footsteps. And there stood Bellamy. A rougher looking Bellamy then the last time you saw him, but it was him.

“Bellamy?” Before you knew it you were wrapping your arms around his neck. If you weren’t so relieved that he was alive then you would have probably noticed that this hug was different. He didn’t really respond to this hug.

Pulling away you looked him over and you could swear your heart could overflow from how grateful you were that he was here. It was then you noticed the lack of affection he was giving back and you scanned your mind for if you did something wrong the last time you were together. “Bellamy, what’s wrong?”

Bill Cadogan then stepped forward, making your eyes moved over to him. Piecing it together you came to the conclusion that you so desperately didn’t want to be true. He told them. He betrayed you all. Your hands dropped from his upper arms and went slack by your sides whilst whispering a small, ‘no’.

“No, no, no.” You couldn’t believe it. You kept repeating it over and over. You were slowly becoming distressed and you knew you had to try and calm down otherwise you would see all the memories. Backing against the wall, Bellamy reached one hand out but it only made you more distressed.

Fire you could feel it. Almost like it was actually you who was being burnt. It wasn’t, but the memory of Becca burning alive was so vivid that you felt like you were her. Your skin felt hot and you knew it’d only get hotter. You couldn’t breathe and soon you were seeing black dots before passing out.

The next time you woke you were sat down in a chair in an all white room. You panicked when you saw the big needle machine above you and you then realised this is what Octavia had told you about. They were going to look through her memories. Looking to the side you see Bellamy, now in all white whilst being freshly shaven and his hair cut. He looked exactly like when you first met. But you had to remind yourself it wasn’t.

“You are not my Bellamy.”

Bellamy had to admit to himself, that stung. But this was all in the name of the shepherd so he didn’t dwell on it for too long. He watched as the mcap lowered towards your head before you screamed out. You were restiting. He hoped you wouldn’t but he knew you. He knew you would.

Static noise came through before he heard his name in one of your memories.

“Bellamy... i doubt you’re there but i’m going to talk to you anyway. If you could see me now you’d think i was insane, but really i think talking to you is the thing keeping me insane. I would be lying if i said i had no regrets in life but my biggest one was not telling you how i felt when i had the chance.” A sigh sounded out next before you continued, “I was planning to tell you when we got on the ring but then i didn’t make it back in time. We were gonna get up there and then i was going to tell you i loved you, that i fell in love with you. God, what i would do to go back to the drop ship days and do it all over again. Without most of the violence of course. Well i can Clarke coming so i’ve got to go but it was nice talking to you Bell. Until tomorrow.”

And now he wasn’t so sure he was doing the right thing.

THIS IS REALLY BAD IM SORRY! i liked the look of 7x12 promo and was inspired to do a reader x bellamy for it. I also haven’t proof read this so there might be some mistakes!!

31 notes · View notes

tydy-the-megnet · 5 years

Text

The Incredible Peter-Man

Part One: “Incredible” means “not believable”

Peter Parker is in his senior year of high school, readying to graduate. Since he won’t need his secret identity after that, he decides to see what his classmates will think of “Penis Parker” when they find out he’s secretly their own friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

…

“So, you’re really going to do this, then?”

Peter Parker looked up from his outfit to see his girlfriend Michelle Jones sitting sideways in his desk chair reading. His best friend Ned Leeds was lying on his bed, looking at him while waving his toy Mjolnir around.

“Yeah,” Peter responded, glancing back down at his attire. The ensemble consisted of the Spiderman suit underneath a pair of jeans and an open jacket. He was starting simple with the mask stowed in an internal pocket. “We’re graduating in May, so I don’t really need the secret identity anymore.”

“This is going to be so cool!” Ned exclaimed, tossing the wooden toy to the side, “Flash is going to freak!”

Peter smirked, trying to predict every reaction he’d get when they found out. As May Parker’s voice resounded up to them, informing them that dinner was ready, he shrugged off his jacket and gave Ned their traditional handshake.

“Nerds,” MJ smiled at him as he said it, and with plans to shake up their high school, Peter believed life was good.

…

Life was not good. Life was unfair.

“I can’t believe no one noticed.”

“I told you, you should’ve used your powers in gym class.”

“You should have sat on the ceiling during English.”

“I still doubt they’d have noticed!” Peter waved his arms in a futile attempt to make the other students come to the epiphany. “I- I’m gonna try again tomorrow. I’m gonna keep trying until they figure it out.”

“Dude,” Ned stared at Peter, a grin slowly overtaking his dumbfounded expression.

“That will be really funny.” MJ cocked her own, more conservative smile. “You should just get more progressively obvious each day, until graduation – when you just walk across stage in the suit.”

“I might have to.” Peter sighed, slumping forward, “So, what movie are we gonna watch tonight?”

…

And so began Peter’s quest to out himself as Spiderman without actually outing himself as Spiderman. Their school was supposed to house the best and brightest students around; they should figure him out easily, right?

Right?

“Oh, hey, nice shirt, Parker.”

Peter wanted to just web up everybody. Two periods had gone by, and the closest response he’d gotten to the epiphany was, “Nice shirt, Parker.”

On the bright side, people had noticed the suit. They just thought it was a shirt. That was progress. He guessed.

“It looks better on Spiderman, Parker.” Flash said when he saw the suit. Peter had to stifle a laugh at the irony. “Where’d you get that knock-off, anyway?”

Peter fought valiantly to keep his face straight as he answered, “A, uh, a friend made it for me a couple or so years ago, actually.”

“Doesn’t look as good when it’s not Spiderman, though.”

Peter imagined a camera off to the side, which he gazed into as if he were on The Office. “Yeah, sure. Spiderman does look really good, after all.”

…

Peter watched his teammates fire questions at each other. He had just finished a brutal round of historical trivia at the hands of Ned, and was waiting for the next partner switch. He glanced to Ned, a twinkle in his eye.

Leaning back, he said confidently, “Karen, remind me to study up on history tonight. I felt a bit slow answering those questions.”

“Who the hell is Karen?”

“The AI that Mr. Stark put in my suit.”

“Right, because Tony Stark gave you your own AI.”

“Yeah, you wanted to monitor me at all times. I named her Karen, though.”

The others shook their heads in tired amusement, as if the whole internship was just an old joke. Flash sneered at him, and Peter saw Michelle fighting her own chortles.

…

A few weeks into his little project, Peter overheard some students talking about the latest video of the arachnid hero, “Man, I bet Peter loved this.” And Peter thought he had his first winners.

“Loved what?”

“This video of Spiderman,” The student answered, turning to him. She handed Peter her phone, “He was really cool beating up these crooks while flipping all over the place. And I know you’re, like, the biggest fan of Spiderman, always wearing his merch and stuff.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember this,” Peter forced a smile to his face, despite his soul breaking before his very eyes. He was a fan, he had to tell Ned.

…

One day, when he was feeling particularly audacious, Peter – in full Spiderman suit – approached Ned immediately after an attempted mugging when Ned was walking with some other students along the street.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” He asked as casually as he could as he initiated their signature handshake.

“Hey,” Ned responded in kind, “Not much. I was just getting lunch with the chess club guys.”

“Wow,” one of them whispered – Peter wasn’t as familiar with them – “You really are friends with Spiderman. You know, I never really believed it. Hey, you know Peter Parker, too, right?”

Peter snorted, “Yeah, I know him really well.” And that was that, for that encounter.

The next day, were there rumors flitting about regarding Peter’s heroic alter ego?

No, but there was a rumor that he was cheating on MJ with Spiderman. He did his best to quell that one as soon as he could.

…

Michelle responded to the rumor that Peter was dating Spiderman by giving a show that would start a new rumor very quickly. Spiderman had shown up to a school assembly for a PSA – an assembly that Peter was auspiciously absent from, noted everyone present.

Michelle went up to Spiderman, pulling up his mask to his nose, and kissed him fully.

It was that day that Peter realized just how extreme he could go without people realizing who he was. He didn’t know why he had stressed all that time about being found out – he clearly had all the leeway he needed.

He also realized that MJ was basically queen of the school. No rumors had started about her cheating on Spiderman, despite the overwhelming evidence, and since no one knew Peter was Spiderman, he was able to conclude that MJ somehow had everyone under her thumb.

Or bewitched.

But mostly the part about the extreme boldness with which he could skirt the observance of everyone at Middleton High with his shenanigans.

Peter grinned as his trio began planning in earnest what they would do.

…

One

Read Part Two

#peter parker #spiderman #spider-man: homecoming #spider-man #spider-man: far from home #ned leeds #michelle jones #mj #flash thompson #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #secret identity #the incredible peter-man #fanfiction #part one

37 notes · View notes

anne-wentworth · 5 years

Text

Darling Don’t You Ever Grow Up

Tony has a lot of feelings about his little girl growing up. (Read on ao3)

Tony made his way up from the lab, head still filled with the specs for Peter’s newest suit. FRIDAY’s reminder to eat had broken him out of his haze, forcing him to leave his work behind for a little while. He knew if he ignored his AI he would soon be met with an appearance by Morgan, standing with her arms crossed and a disapproving look she had gotten from her mother.

As Tony headed to the kitchen, he caught sight of the teenager herself, sitting cross-legged on the couch with furrowed eyebrows as she stared intently at…a jewellery box and a card? Pink kite paper also littered the space along with a gift bag with hearts all over it.

Oh no.

“Hey kiddo,” he said as cheerfully as possible as he walked towards her. “What you got there?”

“Dad!” she exclaimed in surprise. “Oh um…nothing it’s…it’s just nothing.”

Tony raised an eyebrow as he came to a stop in front of her.

“Okay it’s a Valentine for Cassie. But I don’t know if…the card might be too much I mean who even makes stuff like that still anyway right so I might just throw it away. And you know what the necklace too…I don’t think I’m gonna bother I’ll just return it or something I’m gonna put everything away,” she rambled all in one breath, already beginning to gather up her things.

“Whoa okay slow down,” Tony put a hand on her shoulder before she could bolt.

Once he was sure she wasn’t going to make a run for it, he sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

“Talk to me,” he gently persuaded.

Morgan sighed, looking up at the ceiling as she fidgeted with her hands. Tony remained silent, letting her find her words.

“What if she doesn’t like me the way I like her?” she finally spoke, her voice tiny as she met his eyes.

Anxiety was written all over her features and Tony could practically feel the nervousness radiating off her in waves. She was scared. It threatened to break him.

“You won’t know how she feels unless you tell her how you feel.”

Everything in him rebelled against the idea of his little girl giving her heart away to someone else because that was how hearts got broken but he pushed all of those feelings aside.

Instead he found himself focusing on her nails, the corner of his mouth quirking up a bit at the red and gold she loved to paint them in. A reminder of his old suits from another lifetime. Those had always been her favourite colours.

“There’s a chance that she won’t feel the same way you do,” he continued. “But it’s a risk you gotta take. Otherwise you’ll just end up pining for her from afar for who knows how long and let me tell you that’s not too fun either.”

She smiled at that, having heard countless stories from Happy about Tony and Pepper secretly making eyes at each other for years before finally getting together.

“And if she likes you too, I’ll be waiting with Celebratory Ice Cream when you get home from school tomorrow. And if she doesn’t, well it’ll just be Cheer Up Ice Cream instead.”

“Thanks dad,” she laughed softly, the sound dancing its way into his heart and lighting up his entire chest.

“You’re Morgan Stark. You’re one of the smartest, bravest and strongest people on the planet. And no, I’m not just saying that because you’re my kid,” he quickly added as she opened her mouth to no doubt make some smartass comment. “You got this.”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, some of the confidence she inherited from both her parents coming back into her expression.

“You’re right. I got this.”

“When am I ever not right?” he grinned, as Morgan rolled her eyes in response.

“This sucks though,” she declared, vaguely gesturing at everything. “Feelings.”

A burst of laughter bubbled from Tony’s throat. Oh, she was definitely his daughter.

“It does,” he agreed. “But then you find someone who loves you just as much as you love them, someone who makes you want to be better, who never gives up on you. You find someone who takes your breath away every time they walk into the room. Someone who makes it a little easier to breathe. A little easier to get up in the morning. You find someone who sees the darkest parts of you and chooses you anyway. And then one day that person becomes home. And everything…everything is worth it.”

“That sounds nice,” Morgan said quietly, her eyes a little watery which Tony pretended not to notice because she never liked people to see her cry.

“It is,” he replied tenderly. “It gave me you.”

Rising from his seat, he moved to stand next to her before bending over and planting a little kiss to the top of her head.

“You need any help with this?” he asked, looking once more at the little gifts.

“No,” she answered, staring up at him with an almost cocky smile. “I got it.”

“Alright then,” he said as he began making his way out of the room, food all but forgotten. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

“Dad?” she called out one last time.

Tony halted, turning around to look at her as he waited for her request.

“I love you,” she said softly instead.

Those three small words wrapped themselves around his very soul, blanketing him in sunshine. Tony had visited other planets and beheld space itself but nothing filled him with wonder like Morgan. Especially when she looked at him the way she did now, with pure affection shining through her features. That look made him feel as if maybe he did something right after all.

“Love you too honey,” he smiled at her.

Tony stared at her for a heartbeat longer before continuing on downstairs. As soon as he was back in the lab, he plopped down in front of his work station and pulled out his phone to frantically dial the one person that could keep him from completely freaking out.

“Hey Tony,” answered that beautiful familiar voice.

“Hi. Did you know that Morgan has a…crush?”

“Yeah. Cassie. She talks about her all the time,” Pepper replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well yeah she’s her best friend of course she talks about her all the time!” he exclaimed. “Wait. You knew about this? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”

“Because I knew you would spiral the way you’re doing right now.”

“I am not spiralling,” he huffed.

His wife remained silent, calling him on his bullshit without even uttering a sentence.

“Okay fine,” he grumbled, slumping forward in his seat. “Maybe I’m spiralling a little. But she’s too young to be having feelings!”

“She’s fifteen Tony,” Pepper laughed on the other end.

“Exactly!”

“Tony.”

He sighed, aware that he was being unreasonable but…he couldn’t help it.

“She’s my baby girl Pep,” he said softly.

“Mine too you know,” she replied. “But just because she’s growing up doesn’t mean that she’ll ever stop being our baby. We can’t stop her from getting older. But we can be there for her and support her as best as we can, just like we’ve always done.”

“I didn’t call for wisdom you know,” he mumbled, even though Pepper’s words had eased some of the ache within him.

“So why did you call?”

“To complain.”

Pepper’s laughter rang through the speakers and a smile automatically found its way to his face.

“Well that is what you’re best at,” she teased.

“I can think of a few other things I do better,” he smirked.

“Like bragging?”

“Ha ha,” he responded drily before lapsing into silence.

Pepper remained quiet too, probably guessing that there was something else bothering him than just the initial panic associated with his daughter growing up.

“I can’t protect her from a broken heart,” he finally voiced the thing that had been nagging at his brain ever since he caught sight of that pink gift bag.

Tony was still having panic attacks every few days when Morgan was born. He had tried to take care of Pepper as best as he could but his pregnant wife was usually the one with her arms wrapped around him while he threw up in the toilet after a bad episode. The world had collapsed around him and it was something he couldn’t come back from. He couldn’t stop seeing everyone around him turn to dust. He couldn’t stop feeling Peter disappearing in his arms. He felt like he should have died with them and then he almost did and suddenly it hit him just how much he wanted to live. So he fought. They all did. They went into battle together one last time but this was a fight that not everyone came out of. But despite the cost or maybe because of it, they had fixed what was broken.

Yet Tony couldn’t escape the nightmares.

Things had improved and piece by piece he was repairing himself but when he held Morgan in his arms for the first time the earth threatened to unravel before him again. All he could see was dusty skies and lifeless eyes and in that moment he’d made a promise.

Holding his entire universe, Tony vowed that he would protect her for the rest of his life. That she would never know even half the pain that he had experienced. That she would be happy, truly happy, for her whole life and not just parts of it. There would be no threat too big or too small that would prevent Tony Stark from keeping his little girl safe.

“You can’t protect her from everything,” Pepper said a little sadly, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“I’m her father! Hell I used to be Iron Man! I should be able to,” he stated defiantly.

“It doesn’t work that way,” she said, ever the voice of reason. “Do you remember the first time she fell and skinned her knee? And how much you panicked?”

“To be fair that was a lot of blood.”

“We both know it wasn’t.”

“Okay but she was screaming-”

“Because you were freaking out!” she interrupted. “Anyway when you finally calmed down what did you do?”

“I watched The Little Mermaid with her and fed her a lot of cookies to make her feel better.”

“You fed yourself a lot of cookies too.”

“Details.”

Pepper snorted.

“You know what really made her feel better though right? It wasn’t the cookies or the movie. It was you. Being there with her. Being there for her. She got hurt but you were there for her after and that’s what mattered. That’s what made her feel safe. There’s going to be times where she gets hurt because that’s a part of life. You can’t stop it. But you can make things a little better.”

Tony swallowed a lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat before taking a breath.

“You’re right.”

“I always am,” she said smugly, mirroring his own words to Morgan only moments ago.

“Don’t you have a meeting or something to go to?”

“I actually do but I’ve been too busy over here holding your hand.”

“Alright go,” Tony said rolling his eyes. “And kick some ass.”

“Oh, I always do. Love you.”

“I love you too.”

Hanging up, Tony let Pepper’s words linger in his mind for a little while. Morgan was going to go out into the world one day and face heartbreak and rejection and other terrible things that no one, not even him, was able to control. It terrified him like nothing else. But Pepper was right. All he could do was be there for her. And he would be. Whether she was five or fifteen, Tony would always be waiting with open arms and a shoulder to cry on and whatever her favourite dessert happened to be at the moment.

Before resuming his work on the latest Spidey Suit, Tony asked FRIDAY to double check the order of roses he’d placed for Morgan. He might have some competition now but Tony had been Morgan’s very first Valentine and he didn’t plan on quitting getting her flowers and chocolates anytime soon.

After all, she would always be his baby girl.

#pepperony #pepperony fic #pepperony fanfiction #tony x pepper #kinda hate this lmao but whatever #mine

29 notes · View notes

stayz4ever · 5 years

Text

Insomnia- Minsung//CHAPTER 3

Pairing: Minho x Jisung (some sort of Changlix)

Sutffz to know: Fluff, angst, mention of sexual activity, family problems, and last but not least my bad humor

Summary: It’s not Jisung’s fought that a little somebody deiced to come back in town. It is his fault for the events that will happen this summer though.

I can’t sleep

So tell me

I stay awake again tonight

Maybe tomorrow night, too

So tell me now, I’ll find a way

Tomorrow night too, there is no other way

I can’t sleep

————————————————–

“Jisung has something that he would like to share.”

“No he wouldn’t.” Jisung gave his brother a glare as he stabbed a piece of chicken with a fork.

“Did you get in trouble at school because I have too much of a busy schedule this week. I can’t talk to your principal all the damn time.” Jisung grew tense and kept his attention on stabbing his chicken.

“Nothing happened at school. Jisung just has something to tell you about himself.”

“No I don’t, shut it!”

“Jisung, whatever it is you can tell us it. It doesn’t matter what.”

“That’s welcoming but I have nothing to say.” He smiled forcefully and his father spoke, “Good now stop yelling at the dinner table, I’m trying to read.” All fell silent until his brother nudged him under the table and gestured to speak. Jisung shook his head repeatedly and his brother sighed.

“Pass the pe-”

“Jisung’s gay!” Everyone stopped eating to look in disbelief and Jisung blurted out, “What the fuck!”

“Jisung that’s okay-”

“Disgusting.” His father spoke in a cold tone and Jisung shook, “Dad, I-”

“Fucking disgusting! This is horrible, no son of mine should be gay.”

“Honey, it’s not a-”

“Get the fuck out now.”

“But, Dad-”

“You are not allowed to call me that anymore.” The man got up from his seat and dragged Jisung from his chair with rage. Jisung’s mother continued to try and calm down his father while his brother sat at the table still in shock. Random slurs and disgust occurred until the front door was pulled opened, his father tossed him out the door.

“I never want to see you back here again.”

“Dad-” A sudden slap to the face and a slammed door. Jisung woke up with ease and suddenly ran to the bathroom to dispose of last night’s dinner. After vomiting everything he brushed his teeth to rid the bitter taste. He sat on the bathroom floor shaking, ready to cry out to no one. Why does that day haunt him? Jisung held his knees in his chest and rocked himself in a slow pace. He heard a grunt come from the other room and 2 sets of feet gathered his way.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Hyunjin spoke softly as he hung off the doorway to lean in the bathroom. Jisung didn’t lift his head up.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not at all.”

“You can’t stay in the bathroom, Jisung. At least go in your bed.” Minho pushed past Hyunjin and stood in front of the boy on the floor.

“Get up.” Jisung didn’t protest. He is still in shock from the vomiting and the nightmare to mouth off Minho. Hyunjin looked at Minho with a glare once Jisung went in his room, “You didn’t have to be an ass.”

“I wasn’t being one!” The two went to sleep after that, except for Jisung who instead stood up for the rest of the night until it was time to go to work.

————————————————–

Work was horrible as suspected for Jisung, the sleepless night took a toll on him and for once he couldn’t sleep at work. Only half of it was Minho’s fault most of it was because the place was packed beyond belief. So napping wasn’t an option to abuse even on his break, it still felt like working. Once the park closed for the day a big smile appeared on Jisung and the only thing that came to his mind was napping. Napping and napping, the first thing he did once he got to his room was jump into his bed. Did he get to take his nap? Well......is life fair? Woojin forced him into the living room to keep Minho company since the others are doing boring things. They been on the couch ever since just watching some shows and saying whatever comes to mind. To Minho’s surprise Jisung was the one that started up most of the conversations.

"Honestly this is the most I've heard you speak all week."

"I talk when I have to." The talking stopped once the watchable part of a show caught their eyes. It wasn’t long before Jisung flipped through channels again. The boredom came back.

“I got an idea! Let’s play Mario Kart and the winner can ask the loser whatever question they want. No matter what the loser has to answer.”

“Don’t throw shells backwards and we could actually have fun.” Minho passed Jisung a controller and sat close next to him. Jisung suddenly put a lot of pressure on himself to win. Who knows what kind of questions Minho will ask. I must have my question answered first. The race started and of course they both didn’t get the boost because they both put pressure on themselves. They both want to win. Whoever can get in a place higher than the other wins and so far this is Minho’s race. He kept his promise about shell throwing instead the AI is fucking Jisung over. He still manages to stay right behind Minho even if a baby peach targets him at every turn. Last lap and the distance behind them gets closer as they race to finish before the other. Minho drives with one hand while the other tries to block Jisung’s view. Big mistake, Jisung bumped him off the path and drove over the finish line with ease.

“Hell yeah!” He cheered being proud of his fourth place. Minho chuckled as the youngest of the two danced all around being proud of his small victory.

“Why did you leave?” Every blunt straight to the point once he stopped his cheering.

“Family stuff.”

“Bullshit and you know it.”

“What! Family stuff can mean anything.” He defended himself and Jisung set his controller down next to him to look him in the eyes.

“No, it doesn’t. Family stuff is family stuff not Minho is just being an asshole and doesn’t want to tell Jisung anything.”

“I went through a sexuality crisis not a big deal.”

“Why didn’t you tell me since it isn’t a big deal?” Jisung’s eyes grew big as he asked. This is big, hopeful, exciting news!

“Because from the looks of it we don’t get along so well.”

“…….For all this time you have known me, we don’t seem to get along?”

“You just- you’re nice to everyone but me.”

“I’m not nice to anyone like take Jeongin for example, I call him way worse things than I do to you.”

“Oh.....so you punch everyone in the face too?”

“Jeongin hasn’t given me a reason to yet.” The one person that holds the title for being the most annoying person in the world to Jisung is Jeongin, Minho standing at a close second. They love each other to death and yeah they fight, make fun of each other like siblings but they’re close calls for Jeongin.

“Oh, but I did!”

“Yeah…..I don’t just go punching people in the face for fun, Minho. I’m not that mean.”

“It’s not fun when people seem to get only the back hand but I get the whole fist, literally.”

“Stop making it sound like I’m hitting everyone for no reason.”

"Nevermind that, you were still a big dick towards me even when I wasn't here you shit talked me."

"....sorry?"

"Even that sounds sarcastic!"

"I'm sorry that that's my natural speaking voice!" Jisung spoke louder than the one complaining. Minho pouted as Jisung sat next to him rolling his eyes. He finally caved.

“Will I have to beg for forgiveness?”

“I’m not accepting today.” Minho grunted out loud and Jisung tsked, “Good thing I’m not gonna do it.” After saying that it left a bitter taste in his mouth, he tried to clench his jaw to rid the taste. They sat in quiet on the couch for a moment just pouting until Minho giggled looking over with his head tilt, “Another round?” Jisung took hold of his controller and started the next race without question. They played a lot more races after that and the questions were nothing serious only things to get a laugh. Minho won another race that made Jisung sulky.

“I missed you. Everyone I missed and I do regret not being here but I wasn’t fun to be around during that time. Everyone called me sulkily at home.”

“Alright don’t be a big softy right now Lee Minho, ask your damn question.”

“How did you know that you were gay?” Jisung choked on nothing once his brain finally let him hear the question.

“I don’t know.....?”

“Something had to have happen that like triggered the wakening. Did you find out that you were crushing on someone, is it Hyunjin?” He crossed his arms and Jisung exclaimed, “No!” Doubt came across Minho’s face and Jisung fixed his answer.

“I guess I just thought about it with myself…….really hard.”

“Can’t believe it’s Hyunjin.” Minho completely ignored his words and pondered to himself in shock.

“It is not him!”

“Then who is it?” You. Jisung’s eyes darted away quickly and his face started to turn bright.

“You asked me like a thousand questions, enough!” He quickly ran to his room and Minho sat on the couch grinning big, “Got him.”

#stray kids kpop #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids felix #stray kids #stray kids changbin #stray kids jeongin #stray kids jisung #stray kids han #stray kids seungmin #stray kids minho #stray kids minsung #stray kids changlix #stray kids chan #stray kids woojin #stray kids woochan

5 notes · View notes

owlespresso · 6 years

Text

Infertile Ground | #4

Tip Jar Also on AO3

Trouble.

That’s what your guests have brought you.

After rescuing Bokuto and Kuroo from the clutches of monstrous intruders, you spend three hours meticulously replacing the realm’s protective seals. As you expected, most of them had worn down, which allowed the mysterious horde of intruders inside.

Several of your familiars flocked home that evening, helping around the house and healing the injured. Usually, there would only be this many present if it were a holiday or festival, but you’re glad to know you can depend on them in times of need. A majority of your energy was spent during the grueling fight, so their efforts are much appreciated.

You would also need to report to the council of gods and goddesses, which you refused to do in person. You’d send them a letter and a picture of a hand giving the middle finger, because your maturity has its limits when you’re dealing with a group of stubborn deities.

“Were I younger, and in better condition, I wouldn’t be this tired,” You muse dejectedly. You shut your eyes and lean back on the couch, finally resting your weary feet. Half-an-hour ago, Ai came in and told you that both men were in stable condition. A weight lifted off your shoulders. But as soon as it did, you felt exhaustion dragging you back down. You could feel the fatigue in your bones, the lead in your legs. You’re out of practice, and you’re definitely feeling it. From beside you, Sugawara chuckles. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes and glare at him, so you settle for questioning him quietly. “What’s so funny?”

“You talk like you’re much older than the rest of us,” You want to say that you are much older than the rest of them, but you hold your tongue. You don’t know how old Sugawara is, let alone your two other guests, “Sometimes, it feels like you’re a nanny, more than anything else.” It’s true. You’ve cooked for them, scolded them, and god knows you’re going to give them the lecture of a lifetime when they wake up.

You feel weight dip down onto the couch, next to you, and know that Sugawara has taken a seat. Nimble fingers stroke through your hair and pull you gently to the side, encouraging you to rest your head on his shoulder. At any other time, you would have fussed about it. But you’re much too tired, right now.

You can worry about whatever comes next in the morning.

You relish in the warmth and the closeness. It takes you mere moments to fall asleep, lulled by his comfort.

Sugawara knew you were a god. A minor god, but still a deity. Those titles weren’t just handed out to anyone. By the time Bokuto and Kuroo arrived, he had grown used to viewing you as someone small and delicate. You didn’t know how to handle affection, most of the time. Interaction scared you. The idea of putting your mental health in someone else’s hands was off-putting.

The weaknesses in your personality only encouraged him to think of you as fragile, as tiny and cute. He thought of you as someone he needed to help and protect, someone who needed gentle hands to encourage them towards a better life. In that way, he forgot who you really are and what you’re capable of.

When he watched you leap into the fray, eyes glowing and weapons ablaze, he was afraid. Not of you, but for you. Could you really handle a horde of vicious monsters? Even when Bokuto and Kuroo failed so miserably?

You proved him wrong. Your dexterousness and power was far beyond anything he had ever witnessed from allies back at home. If the tengu of Karasuno were a force to be reckoned with, then you were an unstoppable opponent, never still and always waiting to exploit your opponent’s weaknesses. Only after you fell asleep that night, did Sugawara feel bashful. He thoroughly underestimated you, just like Bokuto had. Sure, he wasn’t vocal about it. But for a few, shining moments, he thoroughly believed you couldn’t handle yourself.

It was the day after the attack. You were up late, and so you were still asleep. It was only natural to be exhausted. Sugawara is sitting at the dining room table and exchanging pleasant words with one of your familiars. The clinking of cookware and utensils echoes along the large, spacious room. Cats, owls, fare and other small to medium-sized creatures bustle about.

There’s magic in the air and it has him bewildered and amazed. The only “human” among them is a young woman standing at the stove—the one he’s been chatting with for about fifteen minutes. By now, he’s learned that her name is Ai, and that she’s one of your oldest familiars.

Ai spares no details and answers every question he has without censoring anything. She tells him details of your past and personality that you might never bring up. However, he has to work hard to figure out what her words truly mean, because she speaks quickly and she speaks a lot.

He has no doubt that she’s doing this on purpose, loading him with information and making him work to figure out what’s important and what isn’t. But why? Familiars are tricky beings. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever find out.

“—And then, they tore the butterfly’s wings right off! I thought she was gonna kill them, really did,” Ai chatters, animated, “I think that’s why she doesn’t know how to interact with kids that much. They’re so upfront about anything and they weird stuff without even thinking about it. I remember her saying that she didn’t like it when they cried, either. Not that they could help it. I don’t think she was ever like that, as a kid. I think she knew how to censor herself really well because she had to. Gods are chatty, y’know. They like to gossip and eavesdrop and sometimes all it takes is one out-of-context comment to ruin someone’s reputation. Just like humans.”

Sugawara can barely get a word in.

The scent of delicious food curls across the kitchen—spices and aromas from foreign realms. He hears small footsteps coming down the stairs and immediately knows who it is, even before you arrive in the kitchen. He takes one, long look at you and struggles to think of you as anything but cute. You’re still in your pajamas, and you’re clutching a blanket over your body.

“Good morning.” He greets, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand. “I hope you’re feeling better?”

“No,” You grumble. “I’m still tired. Bokuto and Kuroo should wake up today or tomorrow.” He can tell that you’re still annoyed by the sharpness in your tone and the scowl on his face. He almost pities them, knowing that they won’t get off lightly for this offense.

“You’re pretty scary when you want to be.” He says wryly.

“I’m scary when I need to be.” You correct him, nose wrinkling. How can someone be so fearsome and so adorable at the same time? It makes his heart beat erratically, and he steels himself, knowing that he shouldn’t be feeling the way he is, right now. “Thank you for coming, Ai. I’m sorry to trouble you,” You turn to the blond, who is still cooking away at the stove. Sugawara doesn’t like seeing you weary or upset. He wants you to be able to rely on other people. You’ve made so much progress since his arrival, but he supposes that Rome wasn’t built in a day. “I hope you haven’t been chatting his ear off.”

“First of all, it’s no problem,” Ai insists, voice soft like fresh linen. There’s mischief in her expression as she looks over her shoulder at you, “We’re your familiars. It’s our job to help you when you’re in trouble,” She clacks her spatula against the side of the skillet, sliding a fresh serving of eggs and bacon onto a porcelain plate, “Depend on us every now and then, alright?” Ai slides her green gaze over to him, wiggling her eyebrows, “Though, it seems like you’ve learned to depend on a certain someone.” Sugawara feels his face flush at the shameless implication she’s making. Before he can flounder out an excuse, you speak sharply and clearly.

“Ai.” Your voice cuts through the room, destroying the uncomfortable atmosphere before it can even settle in. Ai chuckles and turns back to the skillet.

“Second of all, I think Suga-san was really enjoying our conversation~!” She chirps merrily and you take a seat at the table. Ai hands you the plate of food she’s just prepared.

The interaction Ai was having with him was hardly a conversation, at all. He appreciated it, though. In her own skewed way, she was trying to tell him more about you. Why? He doesn’t know, but he’s grateful for it. He chooses not to remark upon it.

“How are you?” You raise your eyebrows at him, taking a fork full of fresh, scrambled eggs, “You looked pretty shaken, last night,” Sugawara briefly remembers the panic that seized his chest, the sight of crimson blood staining the grass, the rawness of Bokuto’s pained screams—then he remembers the soft glow of your weapons, the feeling of relief at the sight of you.

“I’m alright,” He gives you a soft smile, “It was scary, but I feel fine, now.” It’s not like he’s never been in combat, before.

“Good.” You murmur. The room goes quiet. Two weeks ago, the silence would have been uncomfortable. He would have been second guessing himself, wondering if he said something to make you retreat back into your shell. Now, he can tell that you’re comfortable by the subtleties in your expression and the relaxed slump of your shoulders.

The first thing Kuroo notices is the whiteness of the ceiling. The second thing he notices is the throbbing pain on the left side of his body. He remembers the sulphurous smell of demon breath and the numb horror that seized him before he lost consciousness. He had been trying to prevent Bokuto from making yet another, stupid choice, only to get wrapped up in it himself. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and thanks the gods that he somehow managed to survive.

“Good morning,” Your voice, tired and small, breaks him further away from slumber. He wordlessly turns to look at you, observing the bags under your eyes and the weakness in your posture. You’re rested against the back of the recliner, next to his bed. Your legs are crossed, a book resting in your lap. Did he cause them? He remembers you ordering them to stay behind. For once, he has no smart-mouthed retort to offer.

“I know that you went after Bokuto, to stop him,” Relief sweeps across his entire body. “But it was still a poor decision. I’m not mad. Just think carefully, next time.” He feels more like a scolded child than anything else. But he can see how concerned you were, how concerned you are.

“Sorry to make you worry.” He says, voice raspy from lack of sleep. You wave your hand at him dismissively, shrugging your shoulders.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t have much time to think about it.” Kuroo is briefly surprised that you’re not being harsher with him. You’ve yelled at him for much less.

“Eh? Really?” His lips quirk upwards into a small grin, “And here I was, expecting to be lead to the guillotine,” He drawls. Before you can get mad and snap at him, he changes the subject. “Thank you. For saving my life, and everything.” Fortunately, you’re content to settle him with a glare and move on.

“What? Was I supposed to let you die?” You question. His grin widens, glad to see some of your fire return. He doesn’t like to see you all mopey. He’d rather you chastise him for bad table manners than avert your gaze and speak too quietly. Your lip curls into a disdainful expression, before your features soften, again, “You’re welcome,” He really can’t blame you for the fatigue that’s clearly weighing your voice down. You must have been fussing all day and night over the two of them—

“Bokuto!” He blurts out, remembering the sorry shape his his close friend was in shortly before he passed out.

“Bokuto-san is alright,” You tell him and he shuts his eyes tight. Kuroo leans his arms back and sits up, slowed down by the throbbing pain in his ribs. He guesses that he’s alright to move, since you’re not telling him to lay back down. “Both of you are. Most of my familiars were able to come back. They used their combined energy to heal you. You’ll just be sore for awhile.” Kuroo leans against the headboard, eyes shutting.

“KUROOOO—!” Bokuto’s shout nearly gives him cardiac arrest. The door slams open, causing the pictures on the wall to shake. The owlish man has bandages over his forehead and a large part of his abdomen, but that doesn’t seem to deter him from running around. Kuroo gives a wry grin, knowing that nothing has ever been able to stop Bokuto from constantly being active. The damn guy can’t stand to sit still. He’s glad to see that his old friend is alright and as energetic as ever.

You abruptly stand up from your chair, the movement sharp like all of your energy has come flowing back to you. Your posture is stiff and he can’t see your expression, but he imagines that your eyebrows are furrowed and that your lips are pressed into a thin, straight line. Bokuto freezes at the sight of you, undoubtedly daunted by the scolding he’s about to face. Kuroo gives him a smug grin from behind your back and makes a slashing motion across his neck. Bokuto pales.

“Judging by your expression, you already know what you did was wrong.” It’s not a question. There’s a purposeful drawl in your voice, stretching out your words to keep Bokuto in suspense. Kuroo knows that you’ll forgive Bokuto, if you haven’t already. He knows that underneath your gruffness and hard shell, you’re an empathetic person. You’re not going to write someone off for a mistake, not even one this major. Your words and your tone are purely to make sure Bokuto knows what he did was wrong, to make sure he doesn’t do anything this hair-brained ever again.

“I don’t like to make a habit of giving out orders. But should you make a choice this foolish again, I might not be there to protect you.” Scary when she wants to be, he notes. He doesn’t envy Bokuto’s position, at all. Instead of making a threat or giving a stern warning, you’ve employed the kind of guilt-trip he’s heard his mother use, several times. Bokuto deflates underneath your chastising.

“I understand. I’m sorry.” There’s an unmistakable pout on Bokuto’s face, but Kuroo can tell that he knows what he did was wrong.

“Thank you for understanding that.” You nod cordially, “If you need to speak with me, I’ll be with you in a moment, Bokuto-san,” Bokuto doesn’t even need to be ordered to leave. He shuts the door and treads down the hall, leaving you alone with Kuroo, again. Now that you’re facing him, you can see the wide grin plastered on his face. “What the hell are you so happy about?”

“We underestimated you,” Kuroo notes, crossing his arms. “You’re pretty scary when you want to be. I think you’ve earned Bokuto’s respect. Just watch, he’ll be trailing after you like a lost puppy, from now on.”

“I’m scary when I have to be.” You reply, and he knows you’re right. “And I don’t think Bokuto-san will be following me around, regardless of how much he respects me.”

“You say that like you actually know the guy,” He raises his eyebrows and uncrosses his arms, moving to get out of bed. The sheets crumple and crinkle around his movements. It doesn’t hurt too much to move his legs, fortunately. But the aches from his recently-healed wounds are still present. Not like he was expecting to recover in a day.

Hell, during the thick of the fight, he wasn’t expecting to survive, at all. He really doesn’t know how you managed to pull them both from the jaws of certain death, but he knows that you’re technically a goddess, and therefore possess powers beyond his wildest imagination.

“Trust me. It’s like he was raised in a pack of wolves. If you’re better at something than he is, he’ll be impressed.”

He flinches when he sets his feet on the ground, but manages to stand upright just fine. You watch him with wary eyes, ready to support him should he need it. However, you won’t help him unless he needs it. Despite how hassled you may act, he knows that you trust him to take care of himself. You don’t coddle anyone. He appreciates that.

“I’m gonna go take a shower ‘n stuff.” He informs you and you nod, exiting the room probably faster than you walked in. He watches you go, observing the way your hips sway with intent interest.

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #bokuto koutarou #bokuto #sugawara #sugawara koushi #infertile ground #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#fanfiction #my writing

6 notes · View notes