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michelle-is-writing · 3 years ago

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Future, Warren Worthington

Mutant!reader

Word count: 2.1k~

Warren's POV:

For as long as I've known (Y/n), she's always been the sweetest person. I never saw her being rude or mean to another person. Instead, she treated everyone with a smile and an understanding attitude.

When she first met me, I was surprised to discover she didn't judge me for my (at the time) metal wings or the tattoos on my face. I do have to admit, I was a bit of an arse back then, but I'd like to think that (Y/n) has helped me become a better person with only the occasional gripes that leave my mouth from time to time.

When we started our relationship, my feathery wings replaced my metal ones, and I was a bit insecure about them. The size of my wings was bad enough, and I didn't want to embarrass (Y/n) by letting her be seen with a bird boy, but she was different.

She didn't care about what others thought, and surprisingly, she liked my wings. On some nights when we would lay down with each other, I'd feel (Y/n) begin to graze her fingers against the feathers on my wings, thinking I was asleep. In all honesty, I would never tell her that I enjoyed her doing this, but I think she gets the message when I shuffle closer to her as she does so.

Another thing I was surprised by was the fact that (Y/n) didn't mind my tattoos either. I hated (and still hate) them, but (Y/n) doesn't seem to be bothered by them.

In fact, when I complain to her about them or voice my worries about people staring at her for being with a guy like me, she just smiles and places her lips against mine as her arms pull me close to her. "I don't care about other people's opinions of me being with the greatest guy on the planet, Warren," She'll say, her fingers smoothing over the back of my shirt as she smirks. "They're people we'll never see again, and I love you too much to let their hateful views change mine."

Going back to her caring nature, I often find myself carrying her sleeping body back to our room late at night because of several different reasons. Usually, she stays up late with other mutants who need someone to listen to, and she'll happily do so. Sometimes, it's because she stays up late helping out around the mansion with cleaning and what not. Although, as of lately, I've seen her help out with the children mutants more than she has with the older ones. Every time I see her in the mansion's main room, she has a younger kid beside her whom she's either reading to or comforting. It warms my heart every time I see her helping with those sorts of things.

Standing beside the activity rooms archway, I watch as (Y/n) reads to a child student that recently started school here at Xavier's. Sitting in her lap, the small boy shows pure excitement as she creates small images that follow along with the story she's reading. The boy hasn't been able to adapt to the school due to missing his parents, but (Y/n) has been helping him out a lot. She does things for the small child that are so sweet and caring. It's like (Y/n) treats him as if she were his mother and a great one at that.

"And then the skies were clear of any clouds as the dreams of many children flowed throw them and became the stars," (Y/n) read the story aloud, her voice soft and gentle as her fingers slowly moved to make the illusion follow along with her words. The little boy in her lap gasps at the sight, making both (Y/n) and I smile at his enthusiasm. "One sleeping little girl dreamt of being a princess in a pink castle while another little boy dreamt of defeating the dragon that guarded that castle," As (Y/n) continues, the illusion gives off each different scenarios that she describes.

Looking closer at the images she's creating, I see the princess look similar to (Y/n) with (h/l) (h/c) hair and (s/c) skin. Not to mention the princess dress also happens to be her favorite color, (f/c). Looking over at the prince I see him with my curly blonde hair and pale skin with faint, but still noticeable facial tattoos lining his cheeks. Of course, (Y/n) didn't forget the wings and made them the same white feathered ones she has made me learn to love and accept.

(Y/n) continues reading the short story to the boy in her lap while creating the corresponding images to each page before ending it with the knight and princess joining together in one final sweet moment as the book comes to its last page.

"The end!" She states as the boy raises his arm in cheer. Once she closes it, he smiles and looks up at (Y/n) before climbing off her lap and beginning to zoom off to his room with the book in hand. "Not too fast!" (Y/n) yells toward the boy, his speed immediately slowing with a giggle.

Moving off the doorway and walking past the youngling, I ruffle the smiling boy's hair and watch as (Y/n) lights up with a smile once she sees me. Nothing could ever compare to the sight of her being happy, and I can't believe how lucky I am to be able to cause that emotion. I never thought I'd end up with someone like her, but in all honesty, I never thought I'd end up with anyone. Instead, she came into my life and proved me wrong. Now, I can never see myself without her.

"Hi, honey," She greets, patting the area on the floor beside her. I smile back at her and do as she says, quickly wrapping my arm around her and pulling her close as soon as I do. Absentmindedly, my wing does the same and lays itself against her side as she runs her fingers across the feathers, softly grazing them as she does so.

"Hi, babe," I greet her back, laying a kiss against her forehead. She practically beams as I do so, making me feel a bit of pride flow through. I'd do anything to see her cheeks turn red; it somehow makes me feel like I've accomplished something for her.

"D'you have fun reading to the new tot?" I ask her, lightly swaying her in my arms. Turning her head toward me, her (e/c) eyes look up at me through her long lashes as the sweet smile she wears on her lips turns into an even happier one. "I saw the images you were creating," I admit, moving down to her neck. "They were a bit biased, weren't they?" I ask her, watching as she loudly giggles in response to my lips touching the skin on her neck.

Moving her arms up to the sides of my head, she pulls my head away from her neck before promptly pressing her lips against mine. For a few seconds, we lay in each other's hold, my arms holding her close to me as much as I can while our lips mold against each other until she pulls away and lays her head against my clothed chest, a satisfied sigh leaving her now slightly swollen lips.

"Angel," Her nickname for me leaves her lips, one of her hands moving back to my wing to run her fingers through the feathers. The combination of her delicate movements and sweet voice practically makes me swoon, meaning she has full control. She's the only person in my life that has ever been able to do this to me, and I'm so in love with her that I'm not even bothered by it.

"Have you..." She begins her sentence, her beautiful eyes looking anywhere but me. "Have you ever thought about having kids?" She asks, her voice quiet and a bit nervous. Looking down at her, I smile.

"With you? Of course," I tell her, her eyes immediately shooting up to mine. "You're the only person I see myself having a family with - ever," I explain, her smile growing by the second. "I don't know how it would work out with our mutations and everything, but I figure... we'd love our children no matter what."

Blushing, (Y/n) moves her hand down to my face where she pulls me in close once again before kissing me. "I know we would, too," She tells me sitting up more to stand on her knees and face me. "Can you imagine having kids with your wings?" She suggests, giggling a bit. "I'd be the odd one out."

Laughing with her, I shake my head and move my hands up to her back in the same area where my wings are on my back. "I think they'd have a better chance getting your mutation," I explain, watching her smile as she intently listens to me. "They'd probably have your hair too, and beauty as well," I tell her, my hand subconsciously reaching up to comb through the (h/c) locks. "Not to mention your beautiful personality."

Still blushing, (Y/n) quietly nods before sitting back on her legs and raising her hands above the ground. "I imagine it more like this," She notes, her fingers smoothly moving against each other as an image appears below them.

I quickly catch on to me and (Y/n) standing beside each other, a little bit older by the looks of the clothing, while small kids appear around us. It starts off with a child looking around eight standing in front of us, a small pair of wings behind her as a bright smile lights up her face with blonde curls just like mine caving around her cheekbones. Soon enough, a boy, maybe around four, sits on the ground in front of us while making an illusion with his hands. Just like the girl, he has light blond curls too along with green eyes.

Right after the little boy appears, two tiny toddlers follow, twins apparently, resting in each of our arms. In my arms, I hold another boy that, once again, has my features while the little girl that (Y/n) holds is like a spitting image of the beauty herself. We all seem so happy, and by the looks of it, only two of our kids have our mutations. If this were a reality, I would be thankful and overjoyed with my family, but I still wish that my mutation gene wouldn't carry over to any of our children. I know what it was like to be bullied for my wings, but worst of all, I know how painful it was for them to grow in as well.

"I... I think I can see it, too," I explain to (Y/n) with a smile. Once again, she gets giddy before making the illusion disappear. As soon as she does, I wrap my arms back around her and push her back onto the floor, my arm protecting her head from the hard surface. "When can we start?"

"Warren!" She screams with laughter as I begin attacking her neck with my lips. Lightly pushing me up to face her, I see her grin before she resumes speaking. "There's no need to rush, my love," she tells me, making me sigh. In all honesty, I would drop everything just to have that family with her.

"Besides, we still have school to complete!" She reminds me. "We'll graduate next year, you'll get to train mutants, and I'll get to teach the small ones that come in," she repeats the plan we've been discussing for over a year now, each of her words flowing together in perfection. "We'll be married to each other, and then we can have a family," she tells me, not even resisting the smile that arises to her lips. "Sound good?"

"Sounds delightful," I answer her before diving into her lips. "You're gonna be a great mom one day," I tell her, feeling her smile against my lips.

"And you're going to be a great dad by my side~"

Only, at the time, if we would've realized (Y/n)'s mutation wasn't limited to just making up an image, we probably would've have been even more excited knowing that the image (Y/n) portrayed was going to be our exact future one day.

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crispyjenkins · 4 years ago

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Rexobi. I really just wanna see Rex and Obi-wan drinking together and complaining about the disaster that is Anakin Skywalker. They decide to team up to get anakin to calm the heck down and to talk about his feelings. Anakin doesn’t realize what’s going on but gets the idea he needs to play matchmaker with his master and his captain. He thinks he’s the smart one but he’s really not

(i have once again chickened out of your full prompt and instead give you the leadup to rexobi getting anakin to talk about his feelings.

i uhhh may be unable to think of anything but a rexobi au à la this post by @norcumii and @dharmaavocado about roleswap-ish senior padawan obi hella vibing with this mutant clone that can’t get above the rank of captain even as an arc trooper because the kaminoans are Like That, and qui-gon is going spare, because between anakin somehow being allowed to be in charge of a whole battalion and obi-wan picking fights with every single seperatist leader, he and cody never get a moment of peace. and like. just obi and rex being dumbass 20 year olds trying to deal with a general/master like anakin in the middle of a war. i don’t have TIME for that though

thank you for the prompt as always, i think this is the only rexobi/obex prompt i’ve ever gotten and this ship is criminally underappreciated. like?? kadavo?? anyways here’s whatever this is)

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Not for the first time, Rex wishes Kote were the one here dealing with this, because “how to comfort your favorite Jedi” hadn’t exactly been covered in ARC training – actually, Alpha probably withheld the information on purpose, the fucker.

But Kote is on the other side of the galaxy with the 187th and just as upset they’re not here in Rex’s stead: it’s barely a month off General Kenobi returning to his own face, and Rex knows his vod would strangle the entire Senate if given even half a chance for deploying them separately on their general’s first mission back after the Hardeen... incident.

And Fett’s Ghost knows Rex’s own general is going to pitch a fit when he finds out Rex is here instead of taking leave like the rest of the 501st, but Kote certainly wasn’t about to let Kenobi go all the way to Alderaan unguarded so soon after his supposed death; and honestly, Rex would have been offended if they had asked anybody else to do it. Thankfully, Kenobi hadn’t seemed offended when Rex had shown up at the Jedi Temple’s flight hangar before he could take off; instead, he had been rather amused.

Even luckier, Alderaan is barely a day’s jump from Coruscant, so they don’t have to spend too much time awkwardly pretending that Rex hadn’t attended the man’s funeral in Kote's place (that he would have attended anyways), or that Rex doesn’t know Anakin hasn’t spoken to his former master since their debrief to the High Council about Cad Bane. Which Rex should absolutely not know in the first place, but Anakin is his friend, for better or for worse, and Ahsoka thinks her master airs far too many of his grievances to his captain.

It isn't until their cruiser is making the descent over Alderaan that Kenobi finally addresses the tension between them, which only proves that Kenobi is well aware of it, but had put it off as long as he could. It's a humanising observation, that Rex wishes he could have had when he isn't the only vod in a ten mile radius that isn't the pilot, because at least then he wouldn't be the sole receiver of the soft smile Kenobi gives him as he joins Rex to wait by the shuttle's access hatch.

Rex thanks his progenitor's laughing corpse he has his bucket on, because all he can do is stare.

"You are worried about Anakin," Kenobi says matter of factly, though not unkindly, and Rex lets out a breath that's almost a laugh.

"I promise I am far more discrete with my thoughts in the field, sir."

Kenobi chuckles warmly, tucking his arms behind his back to watch the planet under them grow larger as they approach. "Do try not to worry so much, my dear, this will all resolve itself in time."

It's hard to stare right at his gentle assuredness, so Rex looks away. "You have far more faith in his ability to forgive than I, sir."

That laugh strains at the edges. "Yes, well, I'm afraid some of my lessons seem to have been... lacking."

Rex has regs carbon-printed on his brain, he knows that even without the direct chain of command, the soft push and pull of his relationship with Kenobi, the steady, serene growth of it, is... problematic, for so many reasons that he wouldn't know where to start. Not least of all is rank, how much more important a Jedi is than a replaceable CC-track washout, but, well, Rex had washed out for being too emotional, so it's not as if he's exactly unused to reacting to things inappropriately for a good little soldier.

"It's not my place, sir," he murmurs, remembering Kadavo, remembering Umbara, remembering the hand Kenobi had laid on his shoulder for far too long after the Blue Shadow virus, and has Rex really been this gone since then? "just say the word and I won't mention it again. But just because Kote isn't here doesn't mean you have to... shoulder all of this alone."

In fact, it's wildly not his place to make such an offer, however implicit, but that month on Kadavo did happen, and Rex isn't so self-deprecating to believe he hadn't had a heavy hand in helping Kenobi make it out on the other side as well as he did. He doesn't think so little of the bond they had formed then, to believe that Obi-Wan is unaware of it.

Not when he smiles at Rex like that, like he's a warm cup of caf after a week in the trenches, like Rex is... worthy of such sincere affection.

As the shuttle settles around them and the pilot announces their arrival over comm, Obi-Wan simply says, "I did not for a moment believe I was, my dear."

"You and Rex seem close."

Normally Obi-Wan can feel Anakin coming from an entire corridor away, but he also knows Quinlan has been teaching him a few Shadow tricks, so he isn't entirely surprised when Anakin appears at his elbow in the empty bridge looking like a smug necu.

Aside from eating firstmeal with Kote in the mess, Obi-Wan hasn't even seen Rex today, much less interacted with him: as he understands it, Rex is trying to round up the remaining 501st shinies that are running around the Negotiator, so Obi-Wan really doesn't know where Anakin had gotten that notion. Recently, at least.

Anakin rolls his eyes and scoffs, leaning back on the railing next to him and crossing his arms. "Please, Master, even Snips has noticed."

Obi-Wan refrains from telling him that anyone with a modicum more self-awareness than him has noticed. Be that as it may, "This is one of those times where I truly don't know what you're trying to say, my dear: I have been close with Rex since he was in the 212th."

It isn't even an exaggeration, that there had been... something between them before Anakin whisked Rex away to his own battalion after his knighting, though back then it had been nothing more than friendship. If he recalls correctly, and he does, the cleanup of the Ryloth capitol had been the first time since then that they had worked closely, while Anakin had been on the ground with the locals and Mace had been with General Syndulla, and Obi-Wan had found he still quite enjoyed the way they worked together. Their time on Naboo combating the Blue Shadow virus had only endeared the captain more to him —he does remember a slip in propriety in his relief that Rex had been rescued safely with Padmé and Ahsoka, a hand left too long on the captain's shoulder until Kote had called him away— enough that Obi-Wan had been both relieved and horrified that it was Rex there to support him on Kadavo.

"Cody said Rex was the one to go with you to Alderaan; you sure nothing 'happened' while you were there?" Anakin chuckles to himself like he's being incredibly clever, like there isn’t a hickey visible over the collar of his under tunic.

Obi-Wan raises a brow slowly and refrains from rolling his eyes. "Despite what you may believe, Anakin, not everyone leaps into committed relationships after life-threatening situations." Not that Alderaan had been life-threatening, it had actually been as close to actual leave as Obi-Wan has had the entire war.

"Please, it took Padmé and I ages to–"

Anakin seems to swallow his tongue, then, face rapidly going purple, and it really is a miracle the entire Republic doesn’t know about his marriage; the GAR certainly does.

Sighing, Obi-Wan checks the chrono and decides it isn't too early for another cup of tea. "If you have a specific question about my relationship with Captain Rex, I do wish you’d be direct, my dear."

Anakin splutters. "Relationship?!"

"Great Maker, Anakin, you’re easier to spook than a half-starved blurrg." He pats Anakin’s arm, his sonbrother floundering for anything other than abject confoundment, as Obi-Wan turns away from the bridge to go locate both tea, and his commander to hopefully finalise their newest mission orders. "Don't worry," he calls over his shoulder, "I'll actually let you come to the wedding, unlike someone."

Not that Obi-Wan has any such plans, Maker knows he and Rex have yet to address their feelings in the first place, but he'd be lying if part of him doesn't want to conspire with the captain in question —and perhaps Ahsoka— to see just how far they could take this before Anakin realises they're stringing him along.

Remarkably, Rex is waiting by Obi-Wan’s office with a flimsi cup of tea and a harried smile that promised quite the day chasing after shinies, and Obi-Wan decides conning his former apprentice can wait.

Mando’a: vod/e — “brother/s”, “comrade/s”, “sibling/s”, technically gender neutral but used most often in fandom as “brother/s”

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boontaeveboba · 4 years ago

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Maybe in time, You’ll Understand

Pairing: crosshair x fem!reader

Rating: M (18+)

A/N: a wave of sadness/fear of Crosshair’s role in the Bad Batch show /(potential spoilers?) inspired this. It’s soft-ish and sad and I love him and just want him to be happy.

The frantic knocking at your apartment door was so soft you thought you were dreaming, but as the tapping grew heavier you knew immediately who it was.

“Crosshair?” You blinked into the dark, throwing on a robe and heading towards the door.

His face was incredibly sullen.

“What’re you doing here? I didn’t expect you by this late.”

That was somewhat of a lie, you know he and his brothers kept odd hours. Normally he had the decency to let you know ahead of time if he would drop by.

He glanced over his shoulder worriedly and drew in a shaky breath, “May I come in?”

He looked nervous.

“Of course.”

He nodded and you shut the door behind him as he headed straight to the bedroom.

“Cross, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He sat at the edge of the bed with his hands in his face. You’d never seen him so worked up and upset.

You squatted down, just below his eye level, running a hand over one of his, trying to garner his attention.

“You can talk to me.” You reassured him.

“It’s wrong.” Crosshair responded.

“What’s wrong?”

“All of it!” He threw up his hands defeatedly, and with enough force to cause you to flinch back. He had been crying.

“Cross, you’re really starting to worry me. Are you alright?”

“No! It’s not alright! I’m not alright!” He began, his eyes darted around the room before finally meeting your gaze. “They’re wrong! It’s all wrong!”

“Who?” You asked quietly.

“All of them! All of it! We’re just a small part of it!” He got up and began pacing.

“I had suspicions,” he paused and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. “I never thought-“

He paused and looked back at you.

“I didn’t...I wanted it to be...my brothers, we-“

“Where are they, Cross? Why are you back here?”

“I didn’t mean-“ he sat back on the bed, his eyes welling up.

“I needed a safe place.” He reached out for you and slowly, you obliged, coming to stand in front of him. He grabbed onto your robe and buried his face into your hip.

“I can’t,” he said softly.

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t, I can’t...stay long.” He paused and looked up at you. A tear ran down his face.

You ran a hand down his scalp, trying to calm him and keep his focus on you.

What was he talking about? What had happened?

“There are things, things I need to do. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” He said, tone more serious now.

“Is there anything I can do? I still don’t understand what has you so upset.”

That seemed to snap him out of his sadness for a moment. His hands ran along your hips and he pulled you down to sit on his lap, scooting further up the bed.

He placed a palm against your cheek and you leaned into it, eyes never leaving his.

“I can’t tell you...everything that happened. But it’s bad. I-“

He looked shamefully at the ground.

“Hey,” you said, placing your hands on either side of his face, redirecting his attention to you, “it’s okay. I love you, you know that. No matter what.”

He drew in a shaky breath. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” He muttered.

He anticipated your flinch back and wrapped his arms around your frame to keep you in place.

He held you tightly to his taut frame. His lips found their way to your neck leaving a trail of kisses before they made their way up to your ear.

“I can’t explain everything. Not right now.”

He moved his head back, checking for your undivided attention. He noted the worried and pained expression you held, but didn’t say anything other than, “I wish I could tell you. I can’t, but know in time, you’ll understand. You’ll know.”

You blinked.

What had happened?

But you would push those questions to the back of your mind, you wanted to comfort him, to wipe the scared, pained look off the man holding onto you, like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this planet.

“Please, just...” he let another shaky breath, “I need you.”

“I’m here Cross.”

“Just be with me.”

You responded by kissing him. Softly, you were still unsure how best to comfort him.

As soon as his lips met yours, something broke in Crosshair.

He flipped you over, so your back was on the bed, his body looming over you.

His hands found the opening of the robe and he tore it away, leaving you only in a sheer nightgown.

“Cross, please,” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything, but brought his mouth back to yours.

He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, before biting down on it.

You yelped at the harshness of the action.

“Shhh.” He said. His mouth now was running down your neck and nipping at your collar bones.

His pelvis was grinding into yours and you felt him straining against the fabric of his uniform.

As he continued his onslaught of kisses on your upper body, his hands wedged your legs apart, allowing him to grind up against where you wanted him most.

“Let’s get this annoying thing out of the way first shall we?” He said before hiking your nightgown up over your body and head.

“There,” He paused, using the time to take in all of you, the moonlight illuminating your bodies through the window, “Much better.”

His hands trailed from your shoulders, down your chest, to your hips. He rubbed small circles down the hip bone to your thighs and knees.

“Now these,” he said, running a hand over the sleek underwear covering you, “these need to go.”

You nodded, reaching down to shuck the offending item of clothing off.

“Your turn.” You smirked at him.

He allowed a small smile, sitting up and stepping off the bed, he removed his shirt and the entirety of everything covering his bottom half.

Now it was your turn to marvel at him in the moonlight. His skin was slicked with sweat, and you noticed fresh bruises up and down his body.

He came back to you, noting your concerned glances.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured you. He ran a hand through your hair and twisted and pulled it over the side of your neck.

“Just focus on me now.” He said, placing hot open mouthed kisses along your jaw, moving lower. “I need you here with me.”

“Cross...” you whined as one free hand began to toy with your entrance. A finger brushing against your most sensitive spot.

“Yes,” he hissed, “just like that. Say my name, darling.”

The hand not working you over ran up and down your thigh.

Your head fell back as you felt him add another finger. You had to admit, his “trigger fingers” as you had affectionally referred to them, knew exactly what they were doing. Like the rest of his body, they were long and surprisingly nimble.

Crosshair felt your body begin to tremble and he brought his face back to yours to kiss it and whisper “That’s right, you look so lovely coming undone just by my hand.”

“Crosshair,” you breathed into his mouth as you felt an orgasm ripple through you.

He let you ride it out before bringing his other hand to sweep the hair out of your face.

He made a point of licking the fingers that had just gotten you off, before reaching to his own shaft.

He let out a soft groan as you replaced your hand with his along his ever hardening cock.

“I won’t last long, you keep that up,” he muttered.

“Nothing wrong with that.” You responded, continuing your ministrations.

“But I’d rather be inside you for that.”

With that he pushed you back down and braced an arm close to your shoulder.

“Cross, please,”

“Don’t worry,” he said running his tip teasingly against your entrance. “I want to savor this moment.”

He peered down at you, deciding to capture your mouth with his.

As he did you felt him slide in you briefly, before pulling back out. Before repeating the action, twice.

“You’re such a tease.” You quipped.

“Tease? No, I don’t think so.”

And with that, he pushed all the way in, filling you completely.

“That’s a good girl.” He said, still looming over you.

Securing yourself by wrapping your legs around his hips, you reached your hands to his face and captured your mouth with his.

His teeth clacked against your own, fighting for control over the kiss.

Your hips ground to his and he let out a low groan. He thrust against you.

“Relax your legs a bit sweetheart,”

You did and felt his arm slide behind you.

With more strength than you realized he had, Crosshair’s arm yanked you as close to him as possible. He pulled you up towards a more of a seated position and began snapping his hips up to yours.

“Oh!” You said surprisedly, feeling him much deeper.

He chuckled. “Can feel so much more of you this way,” he grunted.

You groaned.

“Atta girl. You’re doing so well, taking so much of me.”

“Cross...” you moaned.

He responded by trying to quicken the pace, but you placed a palm against his chest.

“Can I top you?” You asked.

A small smirk played on his face, “No.”

You were taken back. “No?”

“No.”

With that he pressed you back down into the bed, supporting himself by one arm, he thrust into you, the other arm grabbing your chin, forcing your gaze to his.

“I need you here. With me. Just like this.”

You still were unsure. You trusted Crosshair with every fiber of your being, but he wasn’t usually like this.

It was as if you were anchoring him to something. Yourself? An escape from whatever had happened?

You didn’t have time to think about it more because his mouth was back to yours, his other hand grabbing and running over the rest of your body. His thrusts becoming more rigorous.

You felt him beginning to tense up. He moved his mouth to your ear, “I love you, no matter what.”

“I love you too, Crosshair.”

It wasn’t that much longer til you both were crying out each other’s names, thrusting becoming more erratic, as he came down from his high.

You stroked a sensitive spot just below his ear to the nape of his neck, peppering it with kisses every so often.

He shuddered and you felt him pull out.

His arms circled your entire body and he squeezed you impossibly tight.

After a beat, he whispered to you, “I don’t have long.”

You weren’t sure what the appropriate words would be but settled on, “it’s alright. I understand.”

You didn’t. Why wouldn’t he tell you?

He held you close for a bit longer, but it only felt like a moment before he pulled away and began redressing.

You watched him carefully, noticing the sullen look from when he first arrived making his way back onto his face.

“Cross,” you began quietly.

He kept dressing, but his attention was brought to you.

You weren’t sure what to say.

“I’ll still be here for you, no matter what.”

You saw the briefest glimmer of hope pass over his face.

“I know.” He said softly.

“You know where to find me,” you continued sitting up.

“I do.” He nodded, pulling on the final bits of his uniform.

He turned to you, the moonlight casting an uneasy shadow across his face. He pulled you to stand in front of him.

He held a palm to your cheek, as he did earlier in the evening. You nuzzled against it and placed a kiss to it.

He closed his eyes, as if to savor the moment.

“I-“ you began before he snaked a hand to the nape of you neck to bring you in for an kiss.

You had never been kissed like this in your life. It was as if the whole world had been yanked from beneath your feet. It was planet shattering, you felt the unspoken need and desire in his kiss. He wanted to tell you everything, but was kissing you as though that day might never come.

When he finally pulled away, he looked at you, taking all of you in.

“As soon as I can, I’ll, I’ll...” his eyes began to well up again.

“Hey,” you said, “it’s alright. Like you said, one day I’ll understand.”

He smirked briefly and nodded.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Crosshair.”

And with that he was out the door back into the night, leaving you to wait and wonder.

#crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #ouch #I hurt my own feelings with this #please let him be okay #Crosshair smut #the bad batch fanfic #crosshair one shot #my writing #BEB writes

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lebenspurpur · 3 years ago

Text

nocturnal - Vincent Sinclair

Pairing: Vincent Sinclair x reader

Summary: This is so poetic idek

Warnings: None

********************************************************************************

I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.

-- Vincent Van Gogh

Sunlight.

What an interesting topic.

It emerges from so far away human metric systems can't even describe the distance but somehow it still binds us to life. Without the touch of the sun's golden arms, we vanish.

It can kill as well. Sometimes the big star seems to be angry at us frail humans. Then it scorches down, its usual warmth gone and replaced by glazing heat.

I like to believe that the sun is like a mother to us.

Have you ever listened to a pregnant woman talk? Yes?

Then you know what I am talking about. They glow. As if the second life chained to their bodies sets them alight.

The sun glows as well. Maybe not in the same way a pregnant woman does but the star definitely does glow.

When mother sun is happy with us she gives us treats, warm days with enough wind to cool us down, protect us. When mother is angry she destroys everything that can shield us. Her fury is then inevitable.

But the sun is also dishonest. Her warm embrace is slowly destroying our home. I suppose her love is just too big.

And well if the sun is our mother, the moon is our father.

He guards us when mama can't. His arms aren't warm, they're cold and white. Somehow serene.

In my imagination mama wears a yellow suit. Her hair is the prettiest shade of orange, a nice and somber shade of marmalade. She's wearing her favorite sunglasses, red triangles to make her look like one of 'em hippies back before my time.

Papa wears a long, silver dress. It swivels around his feet when he moves and I can't help but marvel at the smooth movements of the cloth. A tiara is seated on his midnight-blue hair. It's silver and it shimmers like a thousand stars are kept in its crystals.

When mama laughs, birds start to sing and chirp. The plants lift their head to admire her white smile and the animals wake from their slumber to pay their respects.

When papa cries, his tears rain down on us. When they hit the shell our planet is kept in, they paint it in all kinds of colors. People travel miles to see papa cry.

There surely are thousands of other mama's and papa's out there. Thousand other children.

"You look sleepy."

"I'm not. I just feel peaceful."

We're silent. I can hear him breathing slowly. It is hoarse and raspy, like always.

He is in pain as well. I can feel his muscles, tense from being in pain. It must be horrible to have a constant ache in your throat.

I want to help him. I always wanted to. And helping him has been the biggest journey of my life.

The road has been long and bumpy at its best. Sometimes it completely stops and we have to turn around and find another way.

But we're slowly getting better at walking. Now it doesn't matter if the road's bumpy anymore. Maybe we will also get new shoes.

"What are you thinking about?"

I smile.

"You. I am thinking about you."

He moves over to me. I can feel him sitting down behind me. His thighs creep up next to mine. Seconds later I feel two arms envelop me.

His nimble fingers trace my hips without a care in the world, they keep on exploring my body like they help him see. Ten little eyes, one for each finger. Or more, who knows? Perhaps one finger has more than just one eye.

He sighs. The hot puff of air rushes past my ear. It toys with my hair for a second and leaves me again. Vincent's chin takes its place next to my face.

His skin is smooth against my face, I wonder how he keeps it so clean. It's cold as well indicating that he just entered the house.

"What did you do today?"

"I made a new statue."

Vincent works as a sculptor. That way he only needs wax and his hands to stay occupied. He has the talent and idea from his momma. She had the plan to make a giant house, purely out of wax!

Vincent is currently working on his momma's dream. His twin Bo is helping him. I can't visit it yet. Vincent says it's still not finished and he's a perfectionist.

Well that's not what he said. Vincent said everything should be perfect for me. So I have to wait until the house is perfect. I can't wait to be a witness of his life's work.

"Of whom?"

"No one particular. It was inspired by a hitchhiker Bo picked up last week though."

"Can I be there with you someday? When you make one?"

"As soon as it is safe I will gladly take you with me, love."

His voice calms me immensely and I lean my head back. A raw chuckle can be heard from Vincent.

"Did you ever make a statue of me?"

"At least a hundred."

Vincent often tells me that I'm his muse. His favorite piece of art. I suppose that's how artists compliment someone.

"Is everyone doing okay? How is Bo?"

He usually talks a lot about his brother. Bo is very important to him.

Unfortunately I've never met Bo before. Vincent says he is a busy man since he's the only one in Ambrose who really has a job and all. Apparently Bo's gas station is the only one in a hundred miles radius. People often visit the city and he has to help them all the time.

It's slowly getting dark. I know it's true because the crickets outside are louder than before. It must be nearing 10 pm.

I yawn as I feel my exhausted bones ache for rest.

"For someone who's not tired you do sound a bit sleepy."

"Perhaps I am a little bit tired."

I soon fall asleep, my head seated on his shoulder, his long hair being my pillow.

Vincent carries me to our room, he puts the crutches away and kisses the lids over my sightless orbs to sleep.

Vincent is the sun to my moon.

#vincent sinclair #house of wax #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent x reader

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im-in-vin-ci-ble · 3 years ago

Note

Heyy could I possibly request f!OC x Mark, in which the OC is Red Rush’s daughter who also inherited his powers. Set before the events of episode one maybe at a Guardian’s work party or smth. Mark and OC are hitting it off in a ‘Idk what’s going on my dad just works here’ solidarity during the party; while her doting and protective father Josef is keeping an eye on them, unsure about how he feels about his favorite sidekick growing up on him. Maybe Olga and Debbie try to be matchmakers too lol

A/N: okay well this is CUTE AF, I love this sm thank u for requesting <3 also josef and olga are married here, no one dies (yet) and everyone is happy!!!

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!OC

Rating: T

Warnings: mild swearing

The annual Guardians of the Globe Founder's Day party was never really Zasha's scene. It mainly consisted of the Guardians and the Global Defense Agency's families, and more often than not, she was the only one in her age group. Her true purpose there was to really just pay her respects to the people — including her father, who people knew as Red Rush — who protected the planet.

This year's Founder's Day event was different, however, as Omni-Man finally accepted the party invitations he'd been ignoring for years. Although there were jokes that he had accidentally RSVP'd to the party, or that his wife had accepted the invite behind his back, everyone seemed happy, and still pleasantly surprised, when he and his family walked in.

Sitting down with a non-alcoholic beverage in her hand, she watched as everyone shook hands with the powerful Nolan Grayson and his loving family. Zasha's mom, Olga, walked over to say hello and immediately dragged the three to where Zasha and Josef were. The two male superheroes first exchanged pleasantries, followed by Olga forcing her daughter to get up so she can properly be introduced to the teenage boy standing across from her.

"Zasha, hi," Debbie said with a wide smile as she gave you a warm hug. "This is my son, Mark. I don't think you two have properly met yet."

He extended his arm, "Oh, hi, uh, I'm Mark," he replied with a sheepish smile.

"Hi, I'm Z," she said as Olga gave her a soft push to move her forward. The young girl's eyes threw daggers at her mom before politely shaking his hand, "Nice to meet you."

"Are you all hungry? They've got a lot of food," Olga told the Graysons, leading them and Josef, who squinted his eyes at Zasha and Mark, over to the buffet table.

Zasha and Mark looked at each other awkwardly and exchanged nervous smiles. He began to rock back and forth on his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets as he attempted to think of what to say.

"So uh, how's... superhero training?" he asked.

"Uh, good," Zasha answered, nodding her head. "We managed to take down Titan yesterday so that was pretty cool."

"Oh yeah? That's great," Mark exclaimed. "How about, um..." he scratched the back of his head, "Is the, i-is the drink... good?"

She looked down at her cup and clicked her tongue, "You know for a party that's sponsored by the government, you'd think they'd have better catering."

He chuckled, "If I knew this was going to be a boring party with adults and toddlers and no good food, I would have at least brought a snack and some comic books."

Zasha sat back down and looked up at him with a smile, "Well you better take a seat, buddy, because the next few hours are going to make you wish you were being hurled at buildings instead."

She gently patted the seat next to her and Mark accepted the offer. "Do you go to these things a lot?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Zasha replied. "You are so damn lucky your dad never wants to come to a Guardians event."

Mark laughed, "You know what, I used to be really jealous of all the families who got together during these events but right now, I'd do anything to just go home." He looked around and sighed, "I don't even know most of these people."

"Me too, and I've seen their faces at least thrice a year ever since I could remember," she agreed. "Actually, I think this is the first solid conversation I've had with someone at these things."

"Really?" he asked in shock.

"Really," she answered, taking a sip of the bland orange juice that now mostly tastes like water. "Most of the guys who are my age that have attended aren't really cute, nor are they interesting, so meh."

Mark's head snapped up at that remark and he felt the warmth rush up to his cheeks. "The other guys aren’t... cute and not... interesting?"

"Hell no," Zasha laughed. "Have you ever tried connecting with a person who has no special abilities but know you're a superhero? It feels like talking to a wall."

He crossed his brows, "What do you mean?"

She sighed and leaned forward, "They usually ask me what being a superhero is like, but when I tell them that I managed to take down a man with rock for skin, it's like I'm a freak."

"You're not a freak, Zasha," he replied. "And any guy who feels that way about a girl who's trying to save others sounds like a shitty person."

"And they're not even cute!" she added.

"And they're not even cute," he repeated after her with a laugh.

Zasha sighed again and sat back up. She looked over at him and briefly examined his face, "Well it's a good thing you are."

Josef turned around and watched as the 17-year-old boy chatted up his daughter, as well as literally take his seat at the table.

He held on to Olga's arm and leaned in, "I don't like what I'm seeing over there."

Olga turned to look then laughed at her overbearing husband. "They're just talking, Josef," she said. "It's not Zasha's fault she can enjoy a pleasant conversation and you can't."

"Mm..." Josef groaned, "I don't like it."

"Don't like what?" Debbie asked from behind.

Olga walked over to her and excitingly yet subtly pointed at Zasha and Mark, who were now facing each other now laughing. "Josef's worried that Zasha won't have time to be his daughter anymore if she ever started dating boys," she explained to Debbie. "You know he scares off every single boy Zasha introduces to us? I'm worried she'll never have a boyfriend!"

"She doesn't need a boyfriend, Olga," Josef chimed in grumpily, crossing his arms as he watched the two like a hawk. "No one will be good enough for Zasha anyway. She can literally outrun all the boys she dates."

"So are you saying that my Mark isn't good enough for Zasha?" Debbie asked with half a smile, momentarily shutting Josef up before he nervously tried to form a sentence. "I'm just teasing, Josef," she followed, winking at him and almost warning him not to underestimate her son.

Olga chuckled, "It's good for them to bond. They're both teenagers and superheroes, if they ever date at least they won't have to worry about keeping secrets."

"Whoa, wait," Josef exclaimed. "They just met, who said anything about dating?"

His wife rolled her eyes at his remark. "We should, what's the term... hook them up," Olga said. "Debbie, ask Mark what's going on and I'll ask Zasha."

Debbie agreed to the plan and walked over to Mark and Zasha while Josef huffed in annoyance but stayed in his position; there was no way in hell he was going to keep his eyes off of them.

Debbie offered Mark some food from her plate but he kindly declined. "Good choice," she said. "For a party paid for by the government, you'd think they'd have better food."

Mark laughed and nodded in agreement, "That's what Z said!"

"Oh really?" Debbie replied with a playful smirk.

Mark and Zasha looked at each other as if they were sharing an inside joke before Olga called her daughter over.

"Sorry, mama is calling me," she told the Graysons as she excused herself.

"So..." Debbie trailed off, raising her eyebrow at her son whose cheeks were rosy red.

"Mom, please don't make it weird," Mark begged.

"You and Zasha seem to be hitting it off."

"I begged you not to make it weird," he groaned, covering his face.

"I was just asking!" Debbie said with a giggle. "Why are you being so offensive?"

"I'm not, mom, I'm just... ugh," he groaned again. "Please don't say anything to Josef and Olga. Don't make it weird."

"I won't, I won't," Debbie reassured him. "Are you gonna ask her out though?"

"Mom!"

"Okay, okay, I'm leaving," she said with a hearty laugh, nodding at Zasha who was walking back to her seat.

"Sorry about that, my mom was being strange," Zasha said. "Everything okay?" she asked Mark, who now looked like he'd been slapped over and over again.

"Yeah, yeah! Great! Everything's great!"

She smiled at him but Mark leaned over and kept his head down. Another moment of awkward silence fell upon the two; Zasha looked around while tapping her toes and Mark's sight was glued to the floor. From the corner of his eye, he could see his mom and Olga delicately signalling at him to make his move. He covered the sides of his face and continuously mouthed "No," but the two were unrelenting. He took a deep breath and finally sat back up, and looked over at Zasha who was still pretending to casually look around.

"Hey, uh, Z?"

She quickly looked over at him with wide eyes, "Yes?"

Mark looked behind her head and watched as Olga and Debbie were giggling and whispering to each other, like a bunch of high school girls who just saw their best friend talking to their crush.

"Uh, I'm hungry."

The smile on Zasha's face was quickly replaced with a look of confusion. "Okay... and?"

"Oh! Um," he cleared his throat, "do you... like burgers?"

Zasha giggled and nodded, "I do like burgers."

Controlling his urge to fist pump, Mark cheekily bit his lower lip and moved a little closer, "You wanna head out and grab a bite?"

"Uh..." she turned around and watched as Olga and Debbie quickly nodded their heads, her mom giving her a sign of approval to leave the party. "Sure, I'm starving."

Josef looked on as the two of them stood up and began to make their way to the exit. Sighing in defeat and sadness, he called them over to the place where he's been stationed at since the Graysons arrived.

"Papa, we're just gonna get something to eat," she informed him nervously, knowing his scare tactics when it came to the guys she introduced him to.

Josef's eyes softened as the sight of his little girl, who he knew and finally accepted was growing up. She was making her way into the world and as much as he wanted to always protect her, he knew that she was just as smart and as capable to start doing it herself.

He took his daughter's hand and held it tight, "Okay, call me if you need a ride home."

"I will," Zasha said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Love you, papa."

"I love you too," he replied with a smile that was immediately erased when he focused his attention to Mark. "Bring her home by 11:30, and no sneaking into her room by the window," he ordered the teenage boy sternly.

Caught by surprise by the sudden formality, Mark straightened his back and nodded. "Uh yes, y-yes sir, Red Rush, sir."

"Papa!" she exclaimed. "No more scare tactics."

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, "that was the last one, I promise."

#damn my daddy issues came out here #HARD #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #invincible fanfic

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worldsover · 4 years ago

Text

Judgement to the Desiccated ft. Karina

length ✦ 5573

genres ✧ sm type future; asphyxiation; blackmail; virtual_servant!Karina;

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Air did a poor job of not being polluted so Lee Soo Man flooded the world instead. The man himself certainly must be long gone and could not have been in charge of that decision but the legacy of his company far exceeds the legacy of any other human collective in history. Once on this planet, gas was the fluid of choice for respiration and breathing was an unconscious reflex. Now there’s Aether by SM. How very on-brand of them to have the liquid air you breathe follow perfume naming conventions.

Open your eyes and exit the sleeping chamber. Aether has you work for each inhalation, it desaturates the color of the bedroom—maybe there’s a subtle but uncomfortable tinge of yellow—and it makes your nose itch. Your muscles wield much less force than they used to because of the lack of resistance the fluid provides. Moreover, it smells like hairspray as though the ozone layer is taking sardonic revenge.

Screens impersonating windows track your eyes to ensure realistic parallax, playing the scene of divine blue heavens that could not exist. An azure sky is a reward for those planets that have an atmosphere and a sun for light to scatter. Your walls are either chrome or drywall white and your whole bedroom is plainly decorated just like the day you moved in.

“Etymology of bedroom,” you think out loud, though it falls on no ears.

“Bedroom is a compound noun consisting of bed and room. Bed goes back to Old English bedd ‘sleeping place, plot of ground prepared for plants,’ which goes back to the Germanic-”

Plants and sleep are both strong words to use nowadays. The former doesn’t exist in nature and it seems you’re the only one who bothers with the latter. Faint buzzing distracts you from the AI’s response and signals you to the nano drones that swim throughout the liquid to process carbon dioxide from your lungs. This whole ordeal could’ve been much worse if you didn’t have brain interfaces doing the hard part of controlling your diaphragm. The most you need is a purposeful thought. Still, it gets tiring having to think the same thought every three seconds. In. Out.

Was the metaphorical Soo Man teaching a lesson in perseverance? You love K-pop and imagine it’s how trainees used to practice dancing, singing, being charismatic. Being an idol had to be as natural as breathing air. Inhale and exhale. Right now with any antiquated programming language you clung on to, you could write a single for loop that did the same job. For every three seconds: breathe in, breathe out.

“What’s for breakfast today?” Not loud enough. “What’s for breakfast?” you think it louder.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready for service.” It’s quite a kindness for SM to blur the bland dystopia you live in by augmenting reality through your neural device. A bosomy woman in a gold-lined but otherwise modest maid outfit appears from the corner of your eye and she bows. Ae-Karina is bewitching and almost becoming of her basis as its graphics have gradually upgraded over the rotations but you wouldn’t misconstrue the avatar as human.

“I said, what’s for breakfast!” It feels impolite to scream in your head, there’s other residents there, but finally the fridge lights up.

“Of course master. May I remind you eating is unnecessary?”

In. Out. Every day, she does remind you, yes. How kind of the company to put all your nutritional requirements in the new air. Aether goes in then Aether goes out. You wish the thoughts of breathing could fade into the background but they’re just like your cravings for food. Always hungry but never starving, whole though not once satisfied. Your eyes pause at her gorgeous face and she tells you there’s bacon. Take it from your fridge. Bacon goes in. Well, the drones take care of the out.

Your assigned living space is the entire 207th floor of a tower. Two hundred and seven floors below the surface. The neighbor a few floors upstairs says that he thinks living deeper is a sign of status. What a luxury. That guy should check the status of his facial muscles, maybe improve his code that lets him tell lies while he’s at it. A couple hundred flights of stairs to swim up is a useless skeuomorphism of skyscrapers in the days of the sun. In fact they were more than useless, you would've preferred a single vertical hallway as it would have let you propel upwards unimpeded. Each floor is the exact same, a glass door that affords no privacy for its residence, a false tree on each side. At the upper levels, malls, convenience stores and other gaudy retail, but it’s the gyms that mock you that you mock in return. They’re always empty.

Finally reaching the top is no true break even if it is a change in scenery. Inhale. Aether tastes a little different up here. Exhale. Can’t say you like it.

Countless satellites form a parody of the star from which the planet flew away, the false image refracted by the upper boundary of Aether. They can’t take away your memories of this star. Looking up at the sky once blinded you with ultraviolet radiation, burning your cornea. It was beautiful. Now everyone’s decided that if they’re playing the part of corporate dystopia, they might as well fit the aesthetic. In a way, it’s self-fulfilling. They wouldn’t have chosen a neon pink sun to compliment the blue and metallic gloom of the cityscape if it weren’t so ingrained in popular media already.

Still, you would’ve expected Google or Walmart to become the megacorp responsible for the state of the world, not a Korean entertainment company. Must’ve been quite the red paperclip scenario. Instead of material design or utilitarian architecture, tacky artistic structures line the streets. The same advertisements for albums that they’ve been selling for the past however long. It's all so obvious, the city could've been designed from scratch to accommodate new forms of travel and goddamn liquid air but instead they went with futuristic Tokyo.

Dubstep permeates your inner ear implants. A notification informs your thoughts that it’s “Hip-hop EDM dance pop with a strong jungle house groove and urban influences.” It’s dubstep. Liquid carries barely any sound so SM affords the option for implants if you're nostalgic for one of the senses. Even though it’s a slower form of communication than direct neural transfer, the noise comforts you. Of course the company would choose dubstep as their background music, but maybe they make money off refunds somehow. It switches to Ice Cream Cake. Much better.

You walk the not so busy roads towards a short brick warehouse in the distance and heavy rain soaks your clothes. No such thing as weather without the sun and water but it’s all simulated anyway.

A warm Seulgi adlib and you know it’s Psycho that starts playing. No, none of your senses are real. The most you could trust is your vision but even that’s being lied to. You could be living in a vat and fed all these thoughts, but then why make it so mediocre? Not paradise, nor torture but a lukewarm in-between. Guess that's what happens when SM Entertainment manages the post-apocalypse. Good on them for trying. The alternative would be a frozen hellscape without solar radiation. Can’t deny their work with geothermal and nuclear energy to keep the Aether warm so that you didn’t have to live underground for the rest of human history. It’s quite great PR to save humanity.

“Hey now, we’ll be okay,” repeats a few more times than you remember.

The Idea Factory Alpha White Delta Green says the neon tubes lighting the front of the brick and mortar building. Your ID card bears a name but it’s not yours, not until they approve your name change. Those usually get processed faster with how often people liked changing their names.

Sit at a desk with a sterile white keyboard and slick new monitor. Type and empty words appear on the screen: “Think for the many, not for the one. We need to think ahead.” A thumbs up. The company appreciates the input. That’s probably enough work for one day. Some SNSD live stages help the time pass, SM certainly appreciated the streaming numbers and it would net you some social points.

It’s hard to say what comes to mind when they ask you to envision a world without the sun and air, especially since it’s what you’ve known for... Two hundred years? There’s no frame of reference, that much you can tell from when you counted seconds to see how often the satellites completed their orbit. SM really took time to have them propel at random speeds, they love withholding sensitive information like that from citizens. To be fair, time is sensitive. Guess the meaning of that phrase changes like all parts of language.

Look around. Dozens of employees at identical workspaces all try to answer the same questions. Naturally, there’s no need for manual labor anymore but there will never be a replacement for human ingenuity. Nice slogan but you know you’re only here for data. Can’t see a need for customer retention though—what’s the alternative, skip Earth? See you on another planet?

“Hey bro, you come up with anything new?” Dave says. Two desks away, you see the enthusiastic, surprisingly spry man play around with a Newton’s cradle. The balls at each end bounce back and forth, not slowing down their rhythm any time soon.

“I think I got something,” you say, “Earth is not the answer. It can’t be, long term.”

“Ooh, I like that. Actually, I really like that.”

“What are you gonna do, copy me?”

“Of course not. You know how much SM hates plagiarism.” Click. Clack.

“Ha. As if there’s a single original thought left in the world.” Click. Clack. The imaginary sounds of metal spheres bouncing play in your mind. They got the volume wrong, no way it’d sound that loud from that distance. “You’d think with all their resources, they’d have figured out space travel by now.”

“I don’t think they want to leave, bro. Wouldn’t be great for profits.”

Your mouth opens to laugh and causes laugh8942.mp3 to play in Dave’s head. “I love it. SM probably hates that sass too,” you say.

“Oh no, they’re gonna arrest me for thoughtcrimes. Nah, they love creativity, just when it suits them. Also, if they actually did bust you for wrongthink like rumors say, I wouldn’t have this on me.” Dave twirls a finger and points at you and you thank his absurd flair for the histrionic that keeps you amused with such drab work.

“NewDrug.mp6. Would you like to play it?” the dry system voice notifies you.

“Woah woah there tiger, hold on.” Dave must’ve noticed your intrigued eyes and holds his hands up. “You might wanna experience that at home. But if you’re interested in more, ask for chicken parm at the vegan place. You know the one.”

Dave leaves his desk. He doesn’t return. You finish your work. Inspire. Expire. You’d rather not.

In contrast to your commute to work, the roads fill with others on your way home. You have to know. Take solace in the comfort of a bench where a huge McDonald’s arch bathes the surroundings and its people with a yellow glow. Really shouldn’t watch it now, especially if Dave says it’s a home type of watch but you have to know. A family of five watches you pass out. They, along with every other passerby, ignore your still body draped over the chrome outdoor seating as you look like yet another junkie. The title is correct after a fashion, the simulation is some sort of new drug. The details of the exploits that happen in the immersive replay wash over you but you don’t need them to know that it’s the sort of lewd that SM would not allow—at least not publicly and not without the right exorbitant payment.

Suit pants and underwear go straight to the laundry. That must’ve been an embarrassing sight but no one bothered to stop you, so it doesn’t matter. Look up where this vegan place was that Dave so presumptuously assumed you knew about and you find that it’s about four Avengers’ stores down from work. He must’ve eaten there before.

“Yo Dave, just wanna make sure, what’s the name of the vegan place called?”

“What are you talking about, man? You telling me there’s some secret underground farms that SM wouldn’t know about?”

You can’t tell when you got to work, a lack of standardized timing would help as well the haze of living in a monotonous dark. “Nah, I mean, for the-”

“I have no idea,” Dave emphasizes each word, “what you’re talking about.”

“I see.”

Work flies by, unusually.

“Hey, can I get a chicken-”

“Uh, this is Maron’s Veggies Only, it clearly says on the sign.”

Clear your throat. “Parm.”

The shifty part-time worker looks around and rubs his fingers gesturing for money. “No digital.”

Over the counter, you pass him a gold coin stamped with a holographic 1 and he hands you a USB stick and a laptop in return. How old-fashioned.

“It’ll sync with whoever you have set as your avatar experience aspect,” the worker says.

“Thanks.”

Ever vigilant as the patrol is, the alleys are the last place you want to go to hide with the obvious criminal element within them all but you head to one anyway. Dump the anachronistic technology in your storage pocket dimensions. Looking at its contents, you’d have to clean that mess up later, but the more you look like an average slob the better. The biggest problem with the inventories is all the people squatting in them. Inspectors wouldn’t care about the archaic ruins you left in yours.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready to service.”

“I’d like to go on a date. A special date.” You highlight the key word special and sit on your living room couch. No one’s going to look in your glass door and regardless, you wouldn’t be the pervert for glimpsing into someone’s home.

“Ah yes, master. Ae-Karina is ready to fully service,” she says with a provocative tint in her tone, her sclera disperses to black to match. A pole drops from the ceiling while parts of her maid outfit dissolve which reveals more of the silky skin of her thighs, her lissom arms and most importantly her overflowing breasts. Ae-Karina wraps her legs around the pole and spins around, teasing fingers trace curves on her body to harden you. Her dance is precise but sultry regardless. She pulls up her short skirt to flaunt more of her ass beneath white panties and then pulls down to flourish her cleavage, not trapped by a bra. “Are you enjoying your maid’s show?”

“Very much so, yes,” you say.

Half of a smile forms before a glitch occurs and she teleports next to you, fully nude. It doesn’t pull you out of the illusion however. You just stare and drink in the splendor of her created body.

“You’re not going to touch?” Ae-Karina says.

A feel of her tits and you find it softer than pillows you used to rest on. Soft isn’t much of a character that exists anymore when the whole world is engulfed in liquid. No one has beds, especially with the rarity of sleep. Therefore, her mounds are a consummate dedication to the texture as you squeeze and pinch at her cute nipples.

Her maid outfit rematerializes as she straddles you. It provides more friction to your pants as she begins her lap dance. The weight of her body dragging across your legs and clothed erection induces your carnal impulses further. If only you could fuck the virtual idol. You have to make do with the imprint of her pussy lips on your bulge sliding up and down. Breath in. Breath out.

Ae-Karina pulls down your boxers and spits on your erection. It's not real but her hands so slick on your cock and you let reality slip. Real is for the past, you have desires gratified in the present. There is no real person nibbling at your neck but your nerves activate in sexual desire without discernment for truth. No, she doesn't love you, but when the voracious mass of ones and zeroes says it loves its master, you say it back.

"I love you."

ILOVEYOU infected ten million computers in 2000. An explosion. Calibration engaging. It’s 1:21 PM, Sunday, July 18, 2286 and hypothetically the sun would be out in its full rage. At this latitude and longitude, you’re at what was once the epicenter of all—Seoul, where a fountain caused a chain reaction allowing the hopeful remnant of a world to exist. It lasted a surprisingly long time without the sun and without Aether but the dying planet would succumb inevitably to the ever-increasing contamination so SM of all corporations took charge. A different kind of chain reaction occurred when they acquired a restaurant chain that discovered the recipe for liquid air. The law is on its way and prepared to punish you to its full extent.

You reel while your ears ring. An even sexier version of the woman you already fantasized about appears from your peripheral vision in the crater of your floor. A skimpy cop outfit, striated with reflective material that seems to wane black at different angles, outlines Karina’s curves. She has a tool belt with absurd gadgets, such as a knife baton hybrid, a taser combined with a spray bottle and a Tamagotchi. None of this is necessary. They could just immediately arrest you, impose limitations on your devices. Sure, SM cloned people to deal with underpopulation, but why Karina would be the enforcer is a whole nother issue. Maybe the entertainment company loves their irony?

“Halt. You’re under arrest. Any resistance will be penalized according to the combined Terms of Service of all SM and SM associated products.”

Fucked anyway, you figure you might as well go for it. Escape into your inventory and only seconds later you’re forced out. You manage to get what you need regardless.

“Violation of access rights will be charged to your account.”

It’s so obvious but there’s a reason you kept so much gold in physical storage. As you swim away, the sides of your apartment start to bubble. Bubbles? Already, your limbs feel unsteady. Something’s wrong in the Aether.

“This is standard procedure for escaping suspects that are indoors. Again, this is all agreed to under the Terms of Service.”

“When the fuck did I ever click accept to that shit?”

“When you were born in this world and decided you want to stay in it,” Karina says out loud. You hear her say it. Your physical ears process the vibrations in the air that come from her mouth. Gravity thwarts your desperate escape as your limp body floats on the limit between liquid and air. The atrophy of your muscles becomes apparent within the gaseous atmosphere. She watches you sink down as the room drains of all the false air though her eyebrows crease when she inspects you closer. Your breaths are involuntary. Despite your muscles shorting out, the force of gravity and the pressure of the gas bearing down on you, you’re breathing and you don’t mean to. Her eyes wander farther down. On your pants, a concrete rod stamps the fabric.

“Oh, you like what you see?”

“Shut up, criminal. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

“Your pussy,” you say and she scoffs.

“Original.” Karina bites her lip as your erection continues to grow behind its prison. You use all effort to put your hands up.

“Please, miss Karina. I’ve been bad.”

“I could punish you even more for sexual assault.”

“Then do it.”

Heat radiates the room in a way you haven’t felt in a while and droplets of sweat form on each of your bodies, especially on the thighs that her revealing outfit parades. Her facial features contort in deliberation and the wait kills you. You bat your eyes at her before Karina takes off her tight shorts and drops herself into your anticipatory face. This makes no sense but none of this life made any sense so you decide to go with the tides.

Centuries of training your respiration has led to this moment, but when you finally have real air to breathe, you spit at the opportunity and choose to suffocate. Then you spit at her pussy and lap it up. Karina’s nectar transfixes your olfactory glands, for once a smell that isn’t the sterile Aether. Your eyes are mesmerized in parallel because of the perfect design of her pussy, a single crease that leads into her hole that your tongue emphatically explores. Karina spreads her thighs wide to reveal a small nub that craves attention. So give it. Suck and swirl and flick your tongue, and the woman provides you the tight clench of her legs as a gift. And the sounds, rediscovered glorious noise. Loud, almost too loud, and clear is how they assault your ears, even surrounded by the flesh of her thighs. Muffled by the weight of her legs, you hear Karina moan in approval but she’s still clearly in charge with how she chokes you with her legs. This is not about your pleasure but hers, and any satisfaction that you derive is not only incidental but probably punishable by SM copyright law.

Karina squirms her hips subtly on your mouth. Her eyes are sharp and she’s just about to stop your hands from moving but she notices them clasp together.

“I’ll do anything to make you cum, please.” you say sloppily as her pussy juices fill your cheeks and drip down your chin.

“God. I can’t.” She takes deep, contemplative breaths. ”That’s more time added on for inappropriate behavior.” Her groaning and brief squeals make her words sound incogent.

You give her a concluding lick and a kiss on her slit. “So what have you been doing right now then?”

Point to a corner of the room and a subtle red light indicates a recording camera. At once, she pulls out a hose from a pocket that could not fit it and the vacuum submerges the room with noise. Her expression shifts quickly to serious.

“We don’t play games here in SMTOWN unless it’s SuperStar so don’t fuck with me.”

“Look who's trying to be a comedian. How about you fuck with me any further and the video gets released.”

“That’s funny, you think you have any sort of power-”

“Yoo Jimin, I suggest you don’t push me more.”

“Where do you know that name from? Right now.” She weighs herself down on your neck.

“You think I don’t have contingencies for if I die too? Karina, we can make this a win-win scenario. We both get to cum, we both get to walk away unscathed.”

“Fuck you.”

Your weak arms wander between her thighs. At any moment, a feeble punch towards your face or another ten seconds of asphyxiation and she could call your bluff. Even if you did have the ability to expose her perversions in any way, there would be no permanent recourse, not as long SM was in charge. So it surprises you when Karina takes off her shorts.

“Goddammit. Your cock just looks too good. And your mouth, how are you so good with it?” Put up five fingers when she motions to remove her top as well, and instead she opts to take off your clothes, seizing your pants and throwing them to join the rubble in the room.

A finger slips in, then two and a third dares. Her flawlessly architected pussy lips clings to your digits and Karina shudders in reply. You explore her wetness and find it’s smooth to the point of having no faults, but her juice inside is gloppy and causes your fingers to stick more than the liquids she spills from her slit.

“Who said you’re allowed to have more?”

You lap up the nectar on your fingers. “Then why’d they make you taste so good?”

Your thumb teases her sweet tight asshole and puts just the slightest amount of pressure on it while you finger her with more intensity. The mass of her butt burdens your torso the closer she gets to orgasm. Her eyelids squeeze close and you see her body ripple in anxious pleasure. Karina shows off her pearly whites, teetering on the cliff of hysteria.

“Yes, yes! I’m so close,” she screams.

"Not yet."

“Fuck." Karina sobs, "God. Damn, fuck I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just fuck me.”

“My pleasure,” you say. There’s no need for you to grab her since she brings herself down to your groin, which you’re thankful for as your arms are as good as jelly now. Fortunately, your cock throbs as hard as ever while Karina’s slit rests on it.

“Say you’ll delete it all, all the evidence, promise me.”

“You’re gonna fuck me first or what?” Your breath hitches while she makes a strangled noise as her velvety walls swallow your cock whole to leave no room for comfort. Her tightness is stifling and you have to start counting just to breathe again.

“One two-”

“Be quiet.”

But there is no quiet when pleas for your cooperation intersperse her excessive profanities when she seats herself into your cock and ricochets up and down. Sweat emanates from her creamy skin while her legs widen to find a better angle for her supporting knees in her cowgirl position. Grapefruit and other citrus mingle with the scent of the sweat, fruits you haven’t seen except on billboards in music videos. As much as your mind crackles and your blood roars for every atmosphere of pressure Karina’s walls provide on each thrust in and out, you can’t help but reminisce on sweeter, more innocent times.

The white fluorescent lights in your apartment sputter. For all the advancements in technology, some among many things never change. Light refracts differently in air, less bright, but you can see the pure enjoyment on Karina’s face no matter the luminescence. Karina slows her ride to pull her hips down harder instead and she jolts when your cock finds the most tender spots inside her pussy and it interrupts her babbling.

Karina almost hyperventilates when she gets up to spit on your cock. She pulls out some kind of meter from her tool belt and sighs when there’s no beeping and you recognize it having to do with carbon dioxide. She gets back to dribbling saliva and the filament trailing down to your shaft mesmerizes you. This spit is real, not simulated, and it wettens your erection in a mix with her pussy juices to paralyze you further in your already listless state. Her bare thighs jiggle and you can’t exert much force with your hands but her buttcheeks are firm with just a bit of give.

“Thank you for this cock, thank you for being bad,” Karina says as you watch her ass sink deeper while her pussy holds your dick taut. She’s frenetic when bounces up and down to play an unadulterated orchestra of slick noises between your groins.

“You’re welcome,” you accomplish getting out the words between planned breaths. Your hands cup her buttcheeks but you fear they may break with how she strikes her ass into you.

Karina turns around once more to give you the spectacle of her facial expressions as she fucks herself into you. Knead her calves laying on your torso and they take no energy to spread them though she brings them back together, compressing your hard shaft within her pussy. A new game you play with her, a separate rhythm of loosening and tightening. Her feet press on your chest to help her bounce, but the way they bear down on your lungs against the timing of your breathing causes you to fumble. Your cock bends straight forward as she plunges herself into you and it sends prickles to your entire skin, making the new angle difficult but worth it. Karina takes your hand and starts sucking on your fingers.

“You want my promise that bad?” you say.

“Yes, as bad as I want your cum. I swear, I need it.”

She draws her knees up to her torso and hugs her legs to keep thighs as tight together as possible. Karina couldn’t keep her word, she was trying to kill your cock with constriction.

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight. God, Karina, fuck. You’re so good.” Even if good isn’t the word you want to use to describe her.

“Do it, please, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby. Karina can be a good girl, a good maid, a good cop, whatever you want. Just don’t get me in trouble, please.”

Karina’s mouth stops saying words though her lips writhe, drunk in increasing lust. Her cheeks flush, before the rest of her skin joins in redness while she grapples your chest and whatever spare limb she can find. You still struggle wresting control of your body but nature seems to take over when you drive yourself into her and match her needy cadence. The air in the room is replaced by a new air but it isn’t Aether. Passion, sweat, heat and all fluids that you both exude join squelching sounds, slaps and moans in harmonic bliss when her body tenses and she screams. As her body tightens, her pussy especially holds your cock for dear life and endeavours to wring out all your semen as her wetness throbs and spills. Karina starts counting to three repeatedly and you laugh though your amusement quickly subsides when you feel her juices become more viscous and she continues her ride, even in the dying pulses of her climax.

“Was I good?” Karina asks.

Just a moment goes by before you mentally send her a screenshot of all the recordings being deleted. Karina hasn’t stopped fucking you yet so at least it wasn’t a ploy.

“Thank you, thank you, I love you.” The flexion of her pliant legs brings them all the way back to rest on top of your legs. Karina lays prone above you and finally give you a kiss. The citrusy flavor may be closer to lime than grapefruit but it’s been so long that you can’t remember which scent is which. Lips crash and her tongue lashes out at yours trying to establish dominance. Keep still to let her investigate your mouth while her pussy does the same to your shaft.

You savor the way Karina’s top emphasizes the bouncing of her tits synchronous with the rebounding of her waist on your cock, but your mouth waters when she frees them. Take the shortest moment to relish in the sight before Karina smothers you with her plump globes. You wriggle your face to try to breathe. Inhale, up and exhale, down, but all you inhale is the scent of her orbs’ sweat. Her hips undulate with a pace at least double yours breathing and the echoes of slapping flesh resonate throughout the air-filled chamber. The loudness is unlike any you’ve experienced in a long time. It’s almost a flashbang every time her ass slams into your lap, especially as you start to see white when orgasm threatens to overload you with preludial pulses.

The last words you hear infected ten million computers in 2000. Fade to black. Cut. You’re slammed out of existence back into existence as a sun rebirths both within you, heating your core to a dangerous high, and from your eyes, dazzling you in an unforgiving white light. In the throes of unconsciousness relapsing to consciousness back to tenebrosity, your streaks of semen suspend in the Aether like a dead tree resting from the wind. What flashes your mind in its orgasmic state are two things only you would remember, plants and weather. Your hyperventilation is unconscious but not unwelcome, as it’s the first time in a while your breaths were reflexive even in the liquid air. However, basking in your newfound power, you start to choke. Right. You breathe in and out again. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. Back in.

“Replaying KarinaArrestsYou.mp6.” A hint of vexatious glee in the system’s otherwise dry voice. You don’t stop for it.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

It’s pretty silly but the idea danced around in my head ever since I saw the absolute Black Mirror concept that SM had for aespa and I concur that Karina is insanely hot.

As I’m writing this, this Kurzgesagt video on the idea of a rogue Earth comes out and now I have to rewrite stuff to make it at least a little consistent. I’m obviously already going nuts with all these ridiculous sci-fi concepts but this video almost feels too targeted to me writing this for me to ignore it.

#kpop smut #aespa smut #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

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talatomaz · 4 years ago

Text

crossing paths pt.i | diana prince x lance!reader

a/n: reader has the powers of telekinesis. since this was going to be really long, i decided to split it into two parts. also this may be slightly canon divergent since i’ve not watched flash in a long time.

warnings: mentions of fighting, death

word count: 1.9k

masterlist | request list | request rules

pt.i | pt.ii

reader is sara & laurel’s younger sister who works with team flash. after her and cisco’s experiment goes sideways, she finds herself trapped on an unknown earth not unlike her own

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“You’re absolutely sure this will work, Cisco?”

You asked, tying your hair up into a ponytail whilst the mechanical genius typed on his computer; the keys clacking under his fingertips.

“Yes. 100%. Well, more like 99%. Okay, if we’re being truly honest, then 93%.”

Cisco paused after each figure before turning his head to face you.

“Cisco-“

You started before the former interrupted, “Trust me, y/n. You’ll be fine. You just need to travel there, have a look around and then come straight back. We’ve done it so many times before.”

You and Cisco had been working on modifying the extrapolator your team often used to travel between different Earths. Or rather, you used to use them before the rebirth of the universe following Oliver’s sacrifice.

You cleared your throat at the thought of the vigilante. Having grown up with him and he having dated both of your older sisters meant that he was practically like your brother. And you were broken when you’d lost him so you’d left Team Arrow and came to work with Barry and his team instead.

Working with Team Flash was...different, to say the least. But having known them for several years, you got on well with them all, especially Cisco and Iris.

However, this project you were working on was only known to you and Cisco; the others blissfully unaware, mainly because the two of you knew that if you told them, they’d guilt you into stopping your experiment.

You were the one who had gone to Cisco with the idea in the first place.

After the Crisis, many of you had assumed that everyone solely remained on one Earth however you believed that the multiverse still existed, but that it’d be much harder to access. Cisco had agreed to help you but had explained that he wouldn’t come with you due to his relinquished powers.

So here you were, getting ready to try out the extrapolator in order to confirm or disprove your theory that the multiverse still existed.

“Technically, we haven’t, Cisco. New Earth remember?”

“That’s just semantics.”

“Cisco, if this doesn’t work, you better be ready to explain to my ex-assassin of a sister what happened to me.”

You laughed as his face dropped at the thought of that conversation.

He cleared his throat, “I’ve done all the necessary calculations and made a few needed modifications, including a GPS chip. It’ll work, y/n. Here, take your mask. Just in case.”

He added as an afterthought, handing you the sleek black mask he had designed to disguise your identity.

You put the mask in your jacket and took a deep breath, readying yourself. Holding the extrapolator, you pressed the small button and a familiar portal opened in front of you; variations of colours swirling around the breach.

You looked back at Cisco and feigned seriousness, “If I die, I’m going to kill you.”

His eyes widened making you smile, “Be safe, Cisco. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, you then stepped into the inter-dimensional breach.

***

“Okay, hopefully this worked.”

The breach closed behind you as you stepped into an alley; the several dumpsters providing some form of protection from anyone who may have seen you.

Wherever you were, it was bright and sunny.

Pocketing the extrapolator, you stepped out of the alley and walked down the paved sidewalk, listening for any indications of where you were from passersby.

You continued walking until you came across a newsstand that looked fairly out of place in this seemingly technological environment.

You stopped, peering at the front cover of one of the magazines.

The words “DAILY PLANET” were printed on the top of the paper. You reached down and picked it up, flicking through the pages, pausing when you saw a familiar name on the byline.

Folding the paper back into its original state, you placed it back on the stand, flashing a kind but brief smile to the newsagent who looked at you with intrigue.

Although you didn’t know what Earth you were on, at least you knew you were in Metropolis.

A place you had visited several times since the rebirth of the universe.

A place that, despite whatever Earth, was always home to one Clark Kent, better known as Superman.

You pondered in your thoughts for a little while longer before deciding to venture out and explore the city, eager to find any similarities or differences between your Earth and this one.

You ended up in a museum.

You weren’t sure exactly how you’d gotten there, having followed wherever your feet had taken you but, nevertheless, you were here.

Whilst you were never a huge fan of museums, you’d often found yourself being dragged to them by Laurel when you were younger.

There was something about them that she’d loved.

She tried explaining it to you once.

How the beauty of art told a story or something.

You didn’t really pay much attention and who could have blamed you? You were only 10 years old. You’d rather be out playing or hanging out with your friends than spending your Saturday afternoon in a stuffy old museum.

But this place was anything but.

In truth, you knew that you sought solace in places like these during times of distress or uncertainty.

It gave you a chance to feel closer to your sister after the world had cruelly taken her away from you. Even on another Earth, you still found peace and felt her presence next to you.

You sighed, your shoulders sagging before tensing once more, feeling someone behind you.

You never used to be so on edge.

When you were younger, you lived such a care free life, never feeling any need to be concerned or cautious.

But that had changed quickly.

Soon you had been thrust into the vigilante life, more determined than ever to become like your sisters and help them fight crime.

In fact, you had learned to fight from a reluctant Sara.

After several arguments about the danger of her world, she’d come to accept that there was no changing your mind and had decided that if you were going to purposely put yourself in harm’s way, you needed to be prepared. She had put you through vigorous training which Oliver soon picked up with you after Sara had been recruited to form the Legends.

So, suffice it to say, you were well-versed in the forms of self-defence and were constantly on the lookout for any form of danger.

And being on a different Earth certainly warranted your caution.

“How are you liking our exhibit?”

A feminine voice said, her voice thick with an accent you couldn’t distinguish.

Turning with a smile, you spoke, “It’s beautiful. I never used to appreciate art but now I find myself lost in the works of Rembrandt or Claude Monet.”

“Ah yes. They were most excellent artists.”

You blinked, not at her words but at her face.

The woman who stood before you was, quite simply put, the most beautiful person you’d ever seen in your life.

Realising you were staring, you cleared your throat, “Yes, I agree.”

You opened your mouth to say something else - what, you weren’t sure of - when you closed it again having spotted a man who’d just entered the room which held the small exhibit.

The figure wore a black cap, obstructing his face, his eyes darting around before landing on another male situated in one of the corners of the room. The latter gave him a brief nod which the other returned. Discreetly glancing at them, you noticed familiar bulges beneath their shirt, surely holding a gun.

“Okay, don’t be alarmed but I think this place is about to get robbed.” You said in a hushed whisper, faking interest in another piece of art beside you.

You noted the small but discernible flicker in the woman’s eyes, her name still unknown to you.

“How-“

“Let’s just say I’m perceptive. Do me a favour and take out your phone.”

You waited until the brunette had followed your instructions.

“Pretend to be talking to someone and walk out the room. They’re not going to do anything until you’re gone because they don’t want to run the risk of you warning someone.”

She nodded at your words and proceeded to carry out your plan.

You fought the look of surprise and confusion that surely would’ve shown on your face at the lack of fear on hers. Instead, her eyes seemed to hold a look of determination.

Determined to do what, you weren’t sure of.

Once she had left, your suspicions were confirmed when the two men simultaneously took out their guns and shouted.

“Everybody down on the ground. Now!”

Screams and shouts were let out by the small group of citizens in the room, replacing the quiet bustle of hushed whispers that had previously filled the air.

As everyone immediately fell to the ground, you slid down the wall until you were in an upright position.

You watched as they removed several of the smaller pieces of art, carefully placing them in a duffel bag. You waited until they grew closer to you before standing up causing both of their guns to be aimed at you.

“Sit back down or you’ll get a bullet in your pretty little head.”

They both moved to stand in front of you, blocking you from the view of the security cameras and the people behind them. Using your powers, you pulled the guns toward you and flung them to the far side of the room.

You took advantage of their momentary confusion and kicked both of them. One of them grabbed you from behind, his tight grip trapping your arms. You raised your legs and caged the other’s neck between them.

Twisting your legs, you threw him to the ground and then drew yourself closer into your captor’s arms, lifting off the ground for a brief second before throwing him over your shoulders and onto the ground beside the other intruder.

“Run!”

You yelled to the handful of citizens who watched you with a mixture of awe and fear.

Then you felt yourself being pushed against the marble ground as one of the men jumped on top of you, his weight crushing your small figure.

“You’re going to regret that, bitch.” He snarled against your ear.

You threw your head back, smirking when you heard the grunt of pain and several curses falling from the man’s lips.

You raised your hands and with it, the other man floated in the air. With a wave of your wrist, he went crashing into his friend and they slumped into a corner.

You quickly picked yourself up and ran out of the museum’s back exit, knowing you had to avoid the police at all costs.

Reaching an abandoned alley, similar to the one you first arrived in, you took out the inter-dimensional extrapolator, deciding it was way too dangerous for you to remain here any longer.

Pressing the device, you expected to see a breach form but to your shock, there was none. Inspecting the device, you saw that it had been broken, more than likely from when you’d been thrown against the ground by the robbers.

You muttered a foul curse before calming yourself.

Think, y/n. Think.

Your ears perked up at the familiar whistle and rattle of train tracks.

Okay, you knew what to do next.

You needed to go home.

Part 2 ->

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super-hero-confessions · 3 years ago

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The problem with Marvel apparel is not so much the shirts in-and-of themselves, but rather that people seem to use them as a crutch - an external compensation for their personality and self rather than a natural extension of who they are. Let me try to explain:

Many people in their late teens and early '20s (especially in University) experience some degree of identity crisis and feel an overwhelming need to define themselves somehow. Part of this is often finding some way to define how they present themselves to the world and this manifests itself in an attempt to define themselves through their clothing. Consider a frequent occurrence in many workplaces - a young person trying to "dress up" by adding a solitary statement piece to an outfit - maybe their shoes are too colourful and busy for their more neutral outfit, they're wearing a fedora, or they have a random pin tacked onto a business suit. They think that they look incredible and that this single piece of clothing or accessory portrays them as suave, classy, trendy, or "dapper". Their peers may love it: after all, they're the same age. This person has successfully defined themselves and their personality by adding these items to their attire. Or have they? Of course the answer is no. Firstly, they look terrible and tacky. Secondly, and more importantly is that they've taken the worst possible approach to clothing - the statement piece is not an extension of their personality or natural in any way, it is a clumsy (yet understandable) attempt to graft a personality onto themselves much like a facade. They have a preconceived notion about what personality such an item has, and may confer, and is hoping to have this external presentation magically alter and define their actual personality.

These are often the actions of one who is insecure about themselves and lacking confidence about who they are and their personality.

Marvel apparel is in much the same vein as novelty ties. Most offices have novelty tie guy. He comes in every day wearing a different tie - oh look today it's got a duck on it haha what a cool guy. This is grafting a personality (humorous, fun-loving, perhaps even rebellious and anti-authority) artificially onto his external facade. Maybe he's the funniest guy to ever grace the planet. Does adding a duck tie convince you of this? No. It's trying to tell people "seriously, I am humour" rather than displaying innate personality. Adding a Marvel tie or something else Marvel related does the same thing.

I'm sure people who wear Marvel shirts and colorful Marvel ties are good people. However, they choose to display this facade externally - people just know them as "the Marvel t-shirt person". Do you feel that this truly describes your personality in all of its complexity and nuance? I bet you're a wonderful and unique person and yet this will not show because you instead display this faux-persona, this novelty, this concept of a person.

Such a concept is easy to like and to enjoy as a third-party - you probably found it amusing at first and so do people complimenting your Marvel shirts. It's easy to be entertained by novelty tie guy or taken in by how dapper Admiral Fedoraface looks. But I bet these people complimenting your shirts do not run out and replace their wardrobe with similar aesthetics, and they don't find you more interesting because you have Iron Man pasted across your chest. You want to be interesting, it comes from your personality, not the pseudo personality you're trying to convey through your clothes.

The bigger problem is that this behaviour continues long beyond, say, college. As I mentioned, younger people go through this and sometimes emerge from the haze on the path to developing their own coherent and personal style. I used to add ties to every outfit thinking that it compensated for everything else, and it would somehow make me a better, more interesting person - but now I don't, because it doesn't. However, someone unwilling to give up this facade clothing into adult-hood quite possibly has a strong problem with insecurity and being open.

#confession #rant #marvel apparel

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rk1kheadcanons · 4 years ago

Note

Markus and Connor are secret dating b/c Connor doesn't wanna be out to the world yet. The Jericrew (-Connor) go drinking and Markus gets *drunk* and starts rambling about his boyf after he rebuffs an advance made by a lady at the bar super sappily, but no matter how hard the others press him, they just get "oh, his eyes are the color of warm chocolate..." answers as to who this boyf is

You would never know Markus was drunk.

He didn’t stutter or slur when he spoke, he didn’t sway or trip over his feet. He didn’t giggle goofily or speak overly loud. He was perfectly composed, as much the charismatic android sober as he was when he was intoxicated.

What he did do, however, was go on long monologues like a Shakespearian stage actor.

Which would be fine, if Markus’ favorite subject to wax poetic about wasn’t his mysterious boyfriend, whom he’d sworn not to reveal the identity of until they were ready. Which would also be fine, if that mysterious boyfriend wasn’t Connor, who was often sitting right next to him (and slowly but surely bluescreening his way into that big Windows XP wallpaper in the sky) as he sang and lathered compliment after compliment, steadily giving away clues that were so blatant that it was a miracle that no one had figured them out yet.

Markus never remembered what he’d done the next day, and whenever Connor mercilessly played back his memories, his poor lover was as embarrassed as he was apologetic. Connor could hardly begrudge him (frankly he didn’t know what sane person on this planet could ever begrudge Markus, but that was just Connor’s correct opinion). What could they even do about it? Should he demand Markus consciously control himself? It wasn’t like Connor was any better at it. Give the RK800 too many AMB’s (Adios Motherboards) and he would be on top of the nearest table and scream-singing his every professionally repressed emotion, regardless if it was a karaoke bar or not. Hence why he never imbibed more than he could handle when they were around their friends. The last thing he wanted to do was sloppily propose to Markus after a long and terrible rendition of K-Ci and JoJo.

And Connor wouldn’t dream of telling Markus to measure the contents of his drink like Connor did. Not when his breaks were so rare, and getting him to relax and let loose was like pulling teeth.

It was just in the cards that their big revelation as a couple would be in a random bar at 3AM, with Markus saying something along the lines of “my boyfriend’s name starts with a C and rhymes with Donner”, and Connor had made peace with that.

“Scarlet woman!” Markus cried, at some random bar at 3AM, surrounded by their drunken comrades. Ah, would this be the night? Connor thought, on the correct side of buzzed as he watched on from the table right next to them, a heady mix of dread and amusement running through his computer soul. “Jezebel! How d a r e you solicit my happily taken hand!”

The waitress, who looked like she regretted serving their table, let alone attempting to get the number from the happily taken hand, raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” she said peaceably and with the calm air of someone who dealt with drunks as a job choice, “just trying to shoot my shot, ya know?”

Markus nodded at her magnanimously, because he was a kind and forgiving man even as a drunken buffoon. “Fret not. I pardon you of this most heinous slight, for if you knew the one to own my heart, you would understand that no other could compare.”

“Sure thing dude,” she said goodnaturedly, packing up and replacing drinks around their tables expertly, and parting with a “have a good night Romeo.”

“But who can no other compare to? WHOMST??” asked North, throwing her torso onto the table and looking up at Markus pleadingly.

“We’ve ruled out Jerry #451, Claudia, Baris from accounting, and Jerry #36,” Simon rattled off. He was looking down at a napkin that he had scribbled the names of all of their potential suspects. “I’ve got it. It’s Baris.”

North rolled her eyes. “We already said it wasn’t Baris.”

“Ohhh. Right, right.” Simon nodded his head and continued to not cross off the names of the people they had decided against, as he had been doing all night.

“How about you describe them a little?” Josh put in, reasonable, and therefore slightly less wasted than everyone else. “Hair color? Height? Eyes? Something?”

“Nay, I must not speak thusly!” Markus declared, back of his hand over his forehead and everything. “For if I were to tread down that forbidden road, I would surely not be able to stop myself from breaking our sacred oath of secrecy!”

“Oh my goOOOOOOOd I hate this fucking oaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaath,” North threw her head back and cried to heavens, which, considering her positon, was probably going to be hell on her neck come morning. “Come on! Break your oath! Be like Thor and wield oathbreaker goddamnit!”

“You might be thinking of Stormbreaker,” Connor added, the need to try and reason with alcoholics apparently embedded in his programming.

North narrowed her eyes at him, or rather his torso, since her chin was very resolutely still resting on the table. “If you think I’m thinking right now then you are drunker than I am.”

Connor lifted his barely touched glass to her in a toast because how dare she be lucid enough to clap back so quickly. A well deserved rebuttal fucking cheers.

“Glasses!” Josh exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Do they wear glasses? That should narrow down some people.”

“That’s right! That’ll tell us if they’re an android or not. Androids don’t wear glasses! Our eyes are like...fucking...better and shit!”

“Unless….” Simon narrowed his eyes, pausing dramatically. “....they do.”

North gasped. Josh put his hands on either side of face, muttering; “holy fucking shit he’s right.”

Markus scoffed. “Their eyes do not hide behind paltry spectacles! His beautiful orbs, so soft and caring when his gaze lands upon my person, seeing into my very soul, are the warmest chocolate brown!”

‘Ah shit here we go,’ Connor thought, wishing not for the first time that he could just down his drink and join everyone else in blissful, idiotic cavorting. The soft, melodic piano and crooning words of All My Life playing over the speaker stayed his hand. Best not take any chances

“HE!” Simon burst out, tipping over in his chair. “He say he! Them is He!”

“Are we talkin’ Hershey’s or Dove?”

“Ghirardelli you fucking plebs!”

“Oi!” North banged her hand on the table so hard it left a handprint indented in the wood. It was one amongst many however, and not all of them left by their party. Such was the price for serving android drinks at a human bar - you either shelled out for sturdier furniture or the dents and chips became a charming aspect of your décor. “Don’t get spicy with us Sir Lancelot!”

“Apologies fair maiden,” Markus responded easily. He took her hand delicately and made a sweeping bow over it. “Alas, my passions got away from me.” He dropped her hand and whirled around, coat billowing with the movement and most assuredly by accident, placing both hands to his thirium pump. “Conjuring up the magnificent images that is the love of my life oft times sends my emotions into a tizzy! His hair; cloud like in my grasp as I run my fingers threw earthen chestnut tendrils - ”

‘Hhhhhhhhhhhhn so many adjectives Markus whyyyyyyyyyy,’ Connor wheezed internally. He didn’t bother trying to keep down his blush. Markus was nowhere near done laying on the compliments and he’d be subjecting himself to an endless loop of canceling the process. Besides, he could just blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the a a a a a alcohol - wait no. What!? WHAT. Connor looked down at his drink and saw, to his mounting horror, that the glass was emptier than it had been a few minutes ago. Goddamn his automated rest mode cycle for transforming into fidgeting whenever he was nervous! He resolutely pushed the glass out of his immediate reach.

Nines, who was quietly sitting next to him, hunched over and taking notes on his own napkin, snapped his head up to attention when the glass brushed against his arm. His younger brother was looking from Connor to Markus, eyes narrowed suspiciously as Markus carried on. Connor didn’t like that look at all. It was always a risk inviting Nines to their little outings, the only thing Connor could bank on was Nines passing out - as his dear little bro was a notorious light weight - before his deductive skills could pierce through his drunken haze. Apparently Nines had chosen tonight of all nights, where Markus had never been more obvious about their relationship, to bloody pace himself.

If he could, Connor would be sweating bullets.

“ - a wit SO SHARP!!” Markus declared, foot now planted on his chair and shaking his fist to the ceiling as if it had insulted one of Carl’s paintings, “that neither an UNDEAD HOARD nor a POLITICIAN’S EGO could survive it’s precision strike!!”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, banger body, smarty pants, good at analyzing shit, likes animals” North listed off, holding a hand up and ticking a finger down. “Well that rules out all the Jerrys; they’re all redheads and they’re pretty aggressive about it - except for Jerry #86. Is your man-squeeze Jerry #86?”

“No no no last I heard Jerry #86 is dating Hatsume Miku’s bodyguard; Android Lucy Lawless.” said Simon.

“Tch. Lucky,” pouted North.

“Oh wow, she really kept that name huh?” Josh said, voice faint with wonder and disbelief. “That’s such a mouthful.”

“And who are you to question a Queen!?” snapped North.

“Huzzah and many blessings to the fortuitous couple!” Markus cheered, toasting a stein of frothy blue intoxication that looked as cartoonish as it did poisonous to the sky, knocking it back in several impressive gulps and slamming it back on the table. “BUT NEITHER OF THEM CAN COMPARE TO THE BEAUTY AND GRACE THAT IS MY LOVE!!” he boomed, louder and more British by the second. “WHO’S CURIOSITY AND INTELLECT A CHERISHED BOON TO I, BUT A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION TO HIS ENEMIES - !”

North slapped her hand on the table several times, the proverbial light bulb lighting up in her eyes - oh. No not proverbial. There was currently little lightbulb emojis pictured in her pupils. Yet another drunken download added to the bill. Connor was glad he’d drawn the long straw on ‘irresponsible buying duty’ tonight. No doubt there would be a lot of strange receipts to sort through in the morning. “Oh! I know I know! It’s Josh!”

So startled by this declaration/accusation, Josh jumped in his seat. “What!?”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, hot, obnoxious, smart - everything FITS!”

“...he didn’t say obnoxious,” Josh muttered, then physically shook sanity back into himself. “It can’t be me. I think I’d know if I was dating Markus!”

Simon leaned in closer towards Josh, arm on the table, determination in his mien. “But what if…” Without breaking eye contact with his friend, he smoothly cracked open his Thirium berry blast bahama mama banana punch wine cooler, and proceeded to pour it just two centimeters off from his glass, all over the table. “You don’t know.”

Josh was shook in the face of this evidence. North narrowed her eyes so hard that they were just closed at this point. “Highly suspicious.”

“No. Nooooo. No? No! Of course I’m not. Right Markus?”

Markus steepled his fingers together and cackled in a way that most people would find concerning, but Connor just found it adorable. He would saving that in his memory banks. “I’ll never tell~,” he sing songed.

“H i g h l y s u s p i c i o u s.”

“I know who it is,” Nines suddenly said, calm but with such confidence that he was easily heard amidst the ruckus. He had his elbows planted on the table, chin resting upon his entwined fingers. Steele grey eyes swept over the now quiet group, everyone waiting with baited breath.

“Grant us your wisdom ‘o soothsayer,” Markus whispered, eyes wide with anticipation and literally perched on the edge of his seat. Connor seriously measured the pros and cons of just throwing his portion of the tab on the table and yeeting himself out of the window.

“It’s Sixty.”

Immediately the room erupted into scoffs and hisses of disbelief. North gave him a thumbs down and cupped her hand to her mouth, letting a long, “Booooo!”

“Why are you booing me I’m right!”

“BoooOOooOOOOOoooooo!” Markus, Josh and Simon joined in.

Connor blinked, and suddenly felt all of his concerns about Nines’ being the lynch pin in solving this mystery evaporate. If Markus transformed into a C grade Shakespeare impersonator when drunk, and Connor subconsciously wanted to be recruited by America’s Got Talent, then Nines became a consummate dumbass.

“That’s it!” North exploded. “Ten dollars says it’s Jerry #92! I caught him in a wig once!” She stood up, her chair sliding back from the force, and slammed a note on the table.

Simon also stood up with equal intensity. “Twenty says it’s Josh!” He reached into his pocket and slammed its contents onto the table. When he removed his hand six lego pieces, a My Little Pony leg, and two actual diamonds were revealed. Connor hoped dearly that the bartender cut Simon off soon.

“It’s not me!” Josh said exasperated. He paused, then pointedly pulled out some money and threw it in the pot as well. “I put forty on Brenden.”

“Bull! Shit!” North declared. “Fitness guru Brenden!? No way!”

“He fits the criteria.”

“I doubt ‘How To Tell If An Android Has Welded on Parts from China vs Russia in their Selfies’ videos on his YouTube channel is the kind analysis Markus was talking about.”

“You don’t know that! He didn’t specify...”

As the two continued to argue, with Simon chiming in with some non sequitur, and Nines tutting about these ‘ignorant fools and their blindness to the evidence presented’, Connor looked over to Markus. He was quiet. He had his elbow perched precariously on the edge of the table, his cheek resting on his fist, a small hat (that was not there literally two minutes ago) was on his head, folded from one of the bar napkins.

And he was looking at Connor as if he hung the moon and stars.

‘How could the world not already know,’ Connor thought, soft and warm inside, happy merely to be in his line of sight, ‘When he looks at me like that?’

Connor picked up his glass and lifted it. “One hundred dollars on Sixty.”

Chaos erupted. Nines threw his arms up and hooted like he’d won the super bowl. Josh tried to explain to him how that was mathematically impossible. North shook her head and warned him that he would live on the streets with an answer like that. Simon pulled out a Yu-Gi-Oh! Card and said he would give him this Charizard if he agreed with him that Josh was Markus’ secret boyfriend. Connor withheld himself from trying to convince drunk people that this was not how betting worked.

Maybe Connor shouldn’t worry so much about their relationship being discovered after all. At this rate, no one would know about he and Markus being together until the wedding invites.

#Detroit Become Human #Markus #Connor #Markus x Connor #RK1K #emiliaf25🌻#emiliaf25 ask reply #North #Simon #Josh #RK900 #Markus: I bet 200 on Connor!#Simon: Pssh no way #Josh: Markus please don't waste you're money on throw away bets #North: Why don't you just bet on John Cena while you're at it #Nines: If Markus wants to give away money then let him #Connor: >:C #Connor: why do I hang out with you people...

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

The Tower: Happily Ever After - 2

The Tower: Happily Ever After An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist | Character Refrence PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1849

Warnings: Pregnancy and minor language on chapter.

Synopsis: Almost 40 years after Elise Cooper first crashed into Natasha Romanoff outside the library at Columbia University, she and the Avengers are adapting to a near-immortal life together with their large brood of children. Yet things aren’t perfect. Life is moving on without them and they’re starting to discover who isolating being immortal can be.When Angela comes and asks Thor to take the throne of Asgard once more, the group leaves Earth in the hopes that they will find their Happily Ever After there.

Chapter 2: Anger Issues

When Marya returned home from school that day we were all ready to meet her. Marya was sixteen years old, a little taller than I was, with dark hair and light brown eyes - just like Bruce. Those weren’t the only things she’d inherited from her biological father. She was extremely intelligent and had been skipped ahead a grade in school. There had been talk about skipping her ahead more than that, but it wasn’t something encouraged in schools due to the strain it has on children’s emotional and social development. So instead she was finishing up high school with her peer group while taking college courses as electives.

She also had her own little green problem.

Her powers worked differently from Bruce’s. She could turn into a hulk, and that transformation could be triggered by extreme negative emotions - not just anger, but when she was really sad or anxious too. Unlike Bruce though, she never had to worry about sharing her body with another person. When she changed she was always herself and generally she had such precision control over the transformation that she could do it on command, much as Bruce could after the bonding ceremony all those years ago.

She looked around suspiciously at us as we called her over to the couches by the large window, typically the place where we had family meetings. It was usually where we spoke to the kids if they had done something they probably shouldn’t have. We took an approach with our parenting where they didn’t usually get in trouble for misbehaving. Rather we tried to think of a real-world consequence for what they’d done. For example, if they were fighting they had to sit down and listen to each other’s grievances and then work out a way to both come to an understanding about how the other feels and try to make each other feel better. It didn’t always work, but we figured it was better than arbitrarily making them go sit in the corner. So it made sense that she’d think she was in trouble for something.

“What’d I do?” She asked, dropping her backpack on the ground while she stood looking at her gathered parents.

“Why don’t you tell us?” Sam teased. “And we’ll tell you if that’s it.”

“I’m not falling for that,” Marya snarked, folding her arms across her chest.

“Honey, sit down,” Steve said, gently. “You’re not in trouble. We just need to tell you something.”

Marya sat down carefully, looking at everyone with deep suspicion. “Is someone else pregnant? Are you trying to populate Earth with just our family?”

“No,” Clint laughed. “What the hell?”

I rolled my eyes. “Honestly, honey, I sometimes think the same thing,” I said. “But that’s not what this is.”

“Your Aunt Angela came to visit today,” Steve explained. “She’s giving up the throne of Asgard.”

“Does that mean Riley’s going to be queen?” Marya asked, looking over at Thor. “I can’t believe my sister’s going to be the queen of a whole other planet.”

Thor shook his head. “Riley is still too young to rule by Asgardian standards. My people - our people - would consider that the equivalent of having Zak as their king. I have to step up and take the lead.”

“Which means, we are moving to Asgard,” Steve finished. “I know that...”

“What?” Marya yelped, interrupting Steve as she blinked at us. “When?”

“Within the month,” Steve said.

“But I have school!” Marya shouted. Her fists clenched and she started to turn green at the edges. “And what about my friends? You can’t just take me away from everyone I ever knew!”

“Mar,” Bruce said, gently. “Deep breath. Get that under control.”

“Don’t tell me how to feel!” Marya shouted, slamming her hands on the coffee table and sending a large crack through the heavy wood. I jumped a little, startled at her violent reaction, and the green started to creep into her arms starting at her hands, making her muscles swell and double in size.

Sam moved forward and crouched in front of his daughter, taking both her hands in his and looking into her eyes. “Marya,” Sam said with a gentle yet commanding tone. “I know you’re upset, but you need to talk about this rationally. If you can’t talk about it, you’re gonna have to go to your room to cool off first.”

She started crying and pulled her hands out of his. “It’s not fair!” She cried. “I don’t even get a say about whether or not you take me away from my friends. My whole goddamn planet?”

“Honey,” Steve said, wrapping his arm around Marya’s shoulders. “I know this is tough. I really do. But we’re partially doing it for you.”

“I don’t see how taking me from my friends is somehow supposed to be good for me,” she grumbled.

“Alright, kid,” Natasha said. “I’m going to give you some harsh truths here. You’re going to lose them anyway. Maybe not all of them anytime soon, but the ones you would have kept in your life you’d have had to watch age and die. Just like we all have done and are with our friends and family. We want to save you what’s happening with Rose. We don’t want you to have to fall in love and then watch them fade out while you’re stuck looking like you can’t buy a beer.”

Marya started crying harder and fell into Steve’s side and Wanda glared at Natasha. “You didn’t have to be so harsh,” Wanda snapped.

“Well babying her wasn’t doing it either,” Natasha argued. “She needs to hear it. She might not like it, but going to Asgard is what’s best for her.”

“Can’t I even finish school?” Marya begged. “I could stay with Eddie - or Rose. Or one of my friends. And then… then I’ll come.”

“There will be school for you on Asgard,” Thor said. “And it will teach you things that far outreach anything any of you have learned on Midgard. Riley and Pietro both attend and they learn of the world tree, and alien languages, advanced mathematics, and magic. You are already holding yourself back to fit in, daughter. You would never have to hide any part of you in Asgard. Not your intelligence, and not this -” he tapped her arm where it was still tinged with green.

“And I’ll make it so you can talk to your friends here. We’ll set up a line of communication,” Tony added. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure my kids don’t go without Tumblr and Instagram. Imagine how many followers you’ll get posting selfies in Asgard.”

“I already have a tonne of followers, dad,” Marya sniffed. “I’m a Skjodbærer.”

“Yes, you are,” Tony said. “And don’t you forget it. The whole universe is yours.”

“We’ll make sure we come back to visit,” I said. “We all still have friends here, and places we like to spend our time.”

“Yeah, who’s going to annoy Katie-Kate if I’m not around?” Clint joked.

Marya let out a small laugh that was still more tears than actual laughter. “I’m sure she’d hate not being annoyed by you.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Clint said and patted Marya on the thigh.

“We aren’t doing this to punish you, Mar,” Sam soothed. “I promise. We’ve all been talking about this for a long time, and we were going to wait, but your dad can’t anymore. He has to go and rule his kingdom. And sometimes we have to give up what we want to do for what we need to.”

Marya let out a long slow breath and nodded. “I know. I know, dad. They’re still my friends though and I’m still sad about it.”

“I know,” Wanda said. “Being sad is normal.”

“Can I have a goodbye party?” Marya asked.

“Look who you’re talking to,” Tony teased. “The biggest.”

She sat silently for a moment and nodded again. “If I really hate it, can I come back again?”

“You need to give it a proper chance,” Steve said.

“I will,” she assured him. “I just… I don’t…”

“If you really hate it, you can come back,” I said, cutting Steve off before he had a chance to reply. “We won’t like it, but our kids being happy and healthy is the thing we want most. We just think… in the long run, this is the best option for that.”

“I know,” Marya said. She looked around at anyone and kicked at her bag. “Can I go now?”

“One thing first,” Steve said, tapping the table where she cracked it. “What are we going to do about this?”

Marya sighed and looked at it. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“And…?” Steve pressed.

“And… I’ll go see if I can find someone who can repair it. If I can’t, I’ll shop for a suitable replacement. And… and I’ll volunteer at the soup kitchen for the Sundays before we leave as a stand-in for the fact I don’t need to earn money to pay for these things.”

“Good girl,” Steve said. “Dinner will be at 6.30.”

Marya stood up and grabbed her back. “Okay.”

“Marya,” I said. “We love you.”

She smiled a little and nodded. “I love you all too.”

We watched her disappear up the stairs and Bruce sat back and ran his palms over his scalp. “I really need to help her deal with her anger.”

Bucky patted his arm. “It’s usual teen stuff. We’ve seen it before -” he gestured to me “- we’ll see it again.”

“Yeah, but when any of the others got upset we didn’t have to worry about them breaking the building,” Bruce said.

“Umm… do I need to remind you about that tantrum Riley had that meant we had to remodel her room,” I said.

Bruce chuckled and nodded. “Right. I guess.”

“It won’t hurt to work with her more,” Sam said. “But don’t think that her having a temper is on you. She’s hyper-intelligent and smart kids often deal with anxiety because they’re always thinking ten steps ahead about all the potential terrible outcomes.”

“Tell me about it,” Tony snarked.

“Yes, Tony, you’re a genius, we all know,” Bucky teased.

“I do not like that I am the reason for her distress,” Thor said. “We could always go back to how it was before Angela took the throne.”

“And barely get to see you?” Clint said. “I don’t fuckin’ think so.”

“That’s not going to happen, Thor,” Steve said. “We’ve been talking about this for a while. It’s time. Sometimes kids have to move because their parents are. It’s not fun for them. But she will adapt and it is better it happens sooner than for her to fall into this society's expectations for when she should be doing things.”

Thor nodded, though he didn’t look completely convinced.

“Alright,” Clint said, clapping his hands. “Enough about moody teenagers. We have a lot to work out.”

“It’s going to be a big change,” I said. “But we’ve gotten really good at those, and in my experience, they always worked out for the best.”

// NEXT

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discoscoob · 4 years ago

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New Earth | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

Loki is officially a member of the TARDIS family and for his first trip the Doctor sets the TARDIS controls to random and she lands on a planet called New Earth and you know what they say ‘New Earth, new you!’

Part One | Part Three | Chapter Index

Words: 7.0k

Warnings: Dub con kissing: reader isn’t control of her own body and Loki isn’t aware

Read on AO3

You quickly learned that the TARDIS was infinitely bigger than you had originally thought. It turned out that the control room was just the tip of the iceberg. It had a swimming pool, a library, an art gallery filled with art the Doctor had collected from across the universe and more wardrobe space than you could ever dream of, full of clothes which the Doctor had granted you unlimited access to, you would definitely be taking advantage of that. It also had the usual like living rooms, dining rooms, kitchens, bathrooms and bedrooms. The Doctor, had confessed that the TARDIS was such a size that there were rooms that even he still had yet to find, despite the fact he had been piloting this ship for over half a millennium.

You recalled how just before all this begun, you had planned to be curled up in bed within the hour, almost 24 hours had passed since then and you had yet to sleep a wink, you also hadn’t eaten. Once all the adrenaline had finally worn off, you felt as though you could have fallen into a coma. You were grateful for the fact that the first thing the Doctor did when he returned to the TARDIS was show you all to the bedrooms, it was on the way that he had filled you with information about the TARDIS and it’s many rooms.

Once you reached the quarters where which the bedrooms were, the Doctor stopped and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and silently handed you, Donna and Loki each a plain plastic bottle filled with goodness knows what and all three of you stared at him speechless waiting for an explanation.

“Aren’t you hungry?” The Doctor asked upon realising you were all staring at him cluelessly. “This will sustain you until you wake up, then you can have a proper breakfast.”

“What is it?” You asked, closely inspecting the plastic bottle.

“Blimey! How big are your pockets?” Donna commented, trying to work out how he managed to fit three bottles into his suit jacket.

“They’re bigger on the inside,” the Doctor shrugged as if it were obvious.

“Of course they are.” Donna muttered to herself in a ‘duh’ tone.

“And it’s like a protein shake. Try it, it’s nice!” The Doctor answered you.

You felt your stomach growl as it demanded nutrients and you were too tired to seek out something else to fill it with so you shrugged and twisted the cap off the bottle and took a quick sip to test how it tasted. You were pleasantly surprised to find it tasted just like a vanilla milkshake and hummed happily as you drank down some more.

After that, the Doctor bid the three of you goodnight and left you to pick your own bedrooms, he assured you they were all practically identical and included en suites so there was no concerns over you squabbling for the biggest room, even if the rooms were different sizes you highly doubted that you had the energy to fight over them, you had already picked the bedroom behind the door closest to you after bidding Donna and Loki goodnight.

Once your vanilla protein shake was all finished and you had changed into some comfortable nightwear which you had found in the wardrobe, you were ready to crawl into the bed for a well-deserved night sleep. Was it even night? You weren’t sure but you couldn’t find the energy to care as you pulled back the thick white duvet of the double bed but before you could climb in and let your tired body rest there was a knock at your door.

You sighed wondering who it was and left your bedside to go and answer it.

“Loki?” You couldn’t disguise the surprise in your tone, he was the last person you expected to see when you opened the door. You took in his appearance and noticed there was no longer any traces of ash or blood on his face, his hair was combed back and still damp meaning he had not long been out the shower, the smell of the products he used filled the air around him and you found yourself breathing deeper to take in the fresh woodsy scents along with hints of vanilla. His sweat and dirt covered clothes had been removed and replaced with a loose dark grey hoodie over a white t shirt and dark jeans, seeing the God in such a casual outfit was almost as startling as seeing him stood outside your door. Your eyes fell to his hands which were clasping the bottle of protein shake the Doctor had gave you all earlier.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Loki spoke, his voice soft, you could hardly believe he was the same man who had trapped you against a wall only seconds after meeting you barely 24 hours earlier.

“No, not at all. I hadn’t got to bed yet.” You assured him and he nodded.

“I just wanted to bring you this,” Loki slightly raised up the bottle in his hand, “you probably need it more than I do, I don’t require nourishments as regularly as mortals do.” He explained.

When you hesitated to accept the drink, due to how stunned you were by the fact he was even concerning himself with thinking about your nutritional needs he continued.

“I haven’t touched it,” he reassured you, allowing you to inspect the bottle by holding it closer to you. “The cap isn’t even broken.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled, endeared by the way he fretted over the idea that you may have worried about him tampering with the drink, when actually that hadn’t even crossed your mind you were just shocked by his kind gesture. You had to pull yourself back into the moment to save him from fretting any further and took the bottle from his hand, your fingers slightly brushed against his as you did allowing you to discover how soft his skin was.

“Thank you, that’s very thoughtful of you.” You smiled sincerely at him and he once again diverted his eyes and clasped his now empty hands behind his back.

“I’ll let you rest now. Goodnight,” he spoke your name and your sleep deprived mind decided that you liked the way it sounded when uttered in his gentle tone. He had already begun walking away when you replied your own goodnight and you noticed he was heading away from the bedrooms, as you softly shut your door you wondered where he was going.

***

Loki had decided that there was no point in attempting to sleep when he wasn’t tired so instead he chose to head to the control room in search of the Doctor. If he was going to be staying under his roof for a while he thought it would be best to learn a bit about him, since they hadn’t really had the opportunity while in Pompeii.

Just as he suspected, he found the Doctor in the control room, his pinstripe suit jacket had been removed, along with his tie and they hung neatly over the railing which surrounded the circular control panel which the Doctor was leant over with his back to Loki. It appeared that the Doctor was unaware of Loki’s presence behind him as he made no effort to acknowledge him.

“Doesn’t this thing come with an auto pilot?” Loki casually initiated conversation as he sneaked up beside the Doctor, who looked over his shoulder at Loki when he heard his voice and straightened his back, letting out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, it does,” he answered as he distractedly scratched at some stubble along his jawline, while Loki continued to scroll around the console, looking at all the controls, he let his fingers dance over them but he never touched any. “But I like to stay up here and monitor it as much as I can, make sure everything’s in order, look out for any distress calls. That sort of thing.”

Loki nodded to demonstrate that he was listening until he stopped three quarters of the way around the console from where the Doctor stood and finally looked back up at him to find the Doctor was already watching him closely.

“You know you don’t have to treat me like the humans.” Loki stated, as he shoved his hands into his jean pockets, the Doctor mirrored him as he put his hands in his own. “I’m much more like you than them.”

“Force of habit, I guess.” The Doctor shrugged apologetically. “I’ve been travelling with humans for almost...” he squinted his eyes as he worked out the numbers in his head, “50 years now. This is my first time travelling with a God.”

“I’m honoured to be your first.” Loki smiled proudly before he continued to silently wander around the control room while the Doctor returned to monitoring the console, every so often he glanced back up at Loki just to check he wasn’t up to no good, each time Loki would look right back at him and offer him an innocent smile.

“Forgive me if this sounds imprudent, but how old are you?” Loki asked, if he wanted to get to know the Doctor better he needed to start somewhere and this seem like a good place to start.

“I’m 904... I think? I don’t really keep count anymore.” The Doctor explained, as he leaned against the railing and crossed his legs and arms.

“And how does someone who travels through all of time and space, getting themselves into situations like Pompeii and answers distress call, after distress call, make it to 904 years old? Are you immortal or just tremendously lucky?”

“Ha, I’m neither of those things.” The Doctor chuckled ruefully to himself as he pushed himself off the railing to stroll around the console as he explained. “Instead of dying my body regenerates itself. All my cells burn up and I grow new ones. I’m still me but I become a complete different person. New face, new body, new personality. The only thing from my previous form which I do get to keep are my memories.”

“Therefore that would make you a...?” He put his hand out with his palm facing up, offering the Doctor to finish the sentence.

“Time lord.”

The Doctor hadn’t noticed the way Loki’s eyes slightly widened and how the curve of his lip fell into a straight line. A few moments passed and Loki had yet to respond, the Doctor looked up to check that he was even still in the room and found Loki staring at him with a pale, unmoving face. “Loki, are you alright?”

Loki remained still and silent and the Doctor straightened his back and drew his eyebrows together as he took a single step forward. “Loki?” This time his tone was cautious, it wasn’t too gentle but it wasn’t too abrupt, it danced on a line between the two.

Noticing the Doctor come closer encouraged Loki to finally move, he took a step back and tilted his head forward to glare at the Doctor from under his brows, silently warning him to not step any closer.

The Doctor understood and increased the distance between them by taking a few steps backwards and raised his arms, with his palms facing towards Loki, to demonstrate that he meant him no harm.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Just tell me what’s wrong and I can fix it.” The Doctor tried, his voice was assertive yet calm.

“Time Lords maintained timelines within the universe and were in charge of the laws of time.” Loki recited, as he carefully watched the Doctor.

“Yeah...” The Doctor slowly confirmed, though his pitch rose at the end of the word making it sound more like a question as his face grew with intriguing while he wondered where Loki was going with this and why he seemed so alarmed by it.

“But they all died.” Loki continued, it was a statement not a question and the Doctor had to quickly disguise the pain that threatened to show on his face.

“Yeah,” the Doctors voice slightly wavered and he cleared his throat. “I’m the only one left.”

“With the Lords of Time gone there was no one left to continue their work.” The Doctor remained silent and listened, as he wondered where Loki got all this knowledge from. “Until the TVA was founded. They honour and continue the work of the Time Lords. My question is, where does that leave you, Doctor?”

Now it was the Doctors turn to fall speechless, he had followed everything Loki said up until he mentioned the TVA. There was an organisation who honoured Time Lords and continued their work, maintaining timelines and enforcing the laws of time? The Doctor wondered how he never knew about this, he believed he was the only person in the universe continuing the work of the Time Lords.

“The TVA?” The Doctor faintly questioned, his brows tense as he glanced at the ground.

“The Time Variant Authority.” Loki clarified, closely reading the Doctors reaction to try and find any hint of dishonesty.

“Is that who you’re running from?” The Doctor asked Loki, but he remained silent, uncertain of how much he could trust the Time Lord.

“I’m not with them. I had no idea they even existed.” The Doctor told him honestly, looking him right in the eye with his palm resting between his two hearts. “Whatever trouble you’re in, I might be able to help. If the TVA honour my species–“

“No.” Loki quickly rejected the Doctors offer before he could even form a proper plan.

“They might listen to me–“ The Doctor tried to persist.

“No!” Loki repeated louder, “I got away from them, haven’t I? I am already free. It would be foolish to go back and try to reason with them.”

“A life on the run is hardly freedom.” The Doctor argued.

Loki disagreed. Even before the TVA, Loki had never truly known what freedom felt like. Growing up a Prince on Asgard his entire life had been planned out for him, all he had to do was perform the script that had already been written but Loki had no interest in the character which he had been given. All the rules and regulations he had to follow without question made him hungry to take control and live by his own rules but in doing so he fell under the control of Thanos and as a result he was forever confined to one role, one character: the villain.

In an effort to escape he merely moved from one cage to another. Then he was captured by the TVA and his figurative restraints turned literal but it felt no different, confirming that he had been right all along about feeling ensnared in the life which had been chosen for him.

What the Doctor failed to realise was that, the very first time Loki believed he felt what others described as freedom was when you had put your hand on his shoulder and reassured him he was safe and he realised that you truly had no idea who he was. You held no preconceived notions about him, there was no one you expected him to be.

For once Loki had the opportunity to discover who he truly was without the influence of other people’s ideas of him, which he had accepted would never change no matter how much he tried so he gave up trying and became what people saw him as but, you, you saw him as a stranger.

The prospect of meeting someone who didn’t already know who he was was rare in Loki’s life, it seemed everyone had their own images of who he was, which made it hard for him decipher which parts actually belonged to him and which parts others had attached to him from their own imaginations.

Then you offered him the opportunity to stay and Loki felt as though he had finally managed to tear up the script which had been written for him and take the pen in his own hand and for the very first time in his life he had the power to decide who he wanted to be and if that’s what freedom felt like then Loki decided that he was going to cherish it for as long as possible.

***

The sound of bird song and the feeling of sun light warming your face gently pulled you from your sleep. You squinted your eyes as they adjusted to the sunlight and once you could take in your surroundings you paused, forgetting where you were for a moment until the events of yesterday started playing back in your mind.

You were in your bedroom on the TARDIS, however you were certain that window hadn’t been there last night. You rose from the bed and walked towards it, the view showed you a clear blue sky and a vast meadow surrounded by healthy green trees while flocks of birds passed by above. It was a beautiful sight to wake up to, however that didn’t lessen your confusion over it.

Now freshly showered and changed into some new clothes which you found provided in the wardrobe, you were walking through the corridors of the TARDIS, letting your nose lead the way as it followed the scent of a hearty breakfast being cooked nearby. The two protein shakes had sustained you over night but now you were ready for that proper breakfast the Doctor had promised and from the smells that travelled down the corridors and lured you to the kitchen, it seemed like it wasn’t going to disappoint.��

Once you turned through the archway which lead to the spacious kitchen which also included a dining area, you were greeted by the sight of Loki and the Doctor quietly bickering, they hadn’t yet noticed your presence so you quietly watched them as you leant against the archway.

“You burnt the toast again.” The Doctor sighed, taking the toast and throwing it into the bin which you noticed already had a pile of burnt toast slices in it.

“I didn’t burn the toast, the toaster burnt the toast.” Loki argued. “I don’t know why you dragged me in here to help you cook for the humans anyway.”

“Did you have anything better to do?” The Doctor asked as he popped some more bread slices into the toaster.

“No.” Loki admitted honestly.

“Then you can pour the fresh orange juice into the serving jug. Everything’s almost ready, they’ll be here soon.” The Doctor instructed Loki, who sighed but still turned to go to the fridge but he paused halfway when he finally noticed you standing under the archway and he said your name with surprise.

“Good morning, Loki.” You greeted him kindly as you moved into the kitchen.

“Oh,” the Doctor said your name after he heard you greet Loki. “Take a seat, it’s almost done.”

You sat yourself down on one of the chairs at the large oak wood dining table and observed Loki and the Doctor in the kitchen.

You noticed Loki had changed out of the casual clothes he was wearing last night when he knocked on your door to offer you his protein shake. He was now smartly dressed in a dark fitted suit, with an olive green waist coat paired with a crocodile green tie which was secured to his white dress shirt with a gold clip. It was the finest you had seen him dress, he looked out of place as he stood in the kitchen pouring juice into a jug.

The Doctor was dressed in pretty much the same outfit he wore yesterday, you wondered to yourself if it was the exact same suit or if he just owned multiple pairs.

“Doctor.” You spoke the Time Lords name to get his attention.

“Yeah?” He glanced up at you from where he was buttering some toast.

“This morning I woke up to a window in my room that wasn’t there last night.” You told him, hoping he could offer you some insight.

“It’s an artificial window,” he explained, “I turn on the feature when I’m travelling with humans, since the TARDIS has no windows some can find it quite claustrophobic but I can turn off the feature if you don’t like it.”

“No, no. I like it,” you quickly told him. “It’s nice, thank you.”

The Doctor gave you a small smile to acknowledge your thanks.

“No one talk to me. I need coffee.” The unmistakable sound of your auntie drew all three pairs of eyes in the room to Donna as she shuffled into the kitchen, she was dressed in a fluffy white dressing gown and slippers and her red hair was pulled up into a messy bun.

“Coffee pot is there, help yourself.” The Doctor pointed to the counter where there stood a pot of black coffee.

“Thanks.” Donna mumbled through a yawn.

Your attention was drawn to Loki when he placed two full plates, filled with a variety of breakfast foods down onto the table.

“You look nice today.” You told him and heat rose to your cheeks when Loki’s eyes met yours and his lips curled up at the edges.

“I’m glad we agree.” Loki stood straight and tugged on his blazer where it hugged him snuggly around his waist. “It took me forever to find something decent in the Doctors closets.”

The Doctor fetched over the rest of the plates and took a seat on the opposite side of the table to you, Donna sat beside him cradling her mug of coffee and Loki moved around the table to take a seat beside you, the same foresty and vanilla scent filled the air around him.

“I could get used to this.” Donna commented as she started scooping food from the buffet in the centre of the table onto her empty plate.

“Don’t, I just haven’t eaten in a while, thought it was about time.” The Doctor warned her around a mouth full of bacon.

“What’s the plan for today, Doctor?” You asked as you picked up a hash brown.

“I was thinking I could set the controls to random and see where it takes us.” The Doctor offered. “A mystery tour! We could end up on any planet, anywhere, anywhen, in the whole, wide universe.”

“You mean, we could end up on an alien planet?!” Donna gasped, and it was hard to tell whether she was excited or terrified.

“Time and space travel, consequently, yeah, I think our chances of landing on an alien planet are relatively high.” Loki sarcastically replied, while he picked at a croissant.

“Can we leave him behind?” Donna directly asked the Doctor.

“Hey, play nice you two.” The Doctor ordered them like a fed up father.

***

“Earth?” Donna whined. “All that just to end up back on earth? And it’s pissing it down.”

You had all eagerly piled out the TARDIS to see what awaited you on the other side of the double doors, the last thing any of you expected was to end up in a rundown alleyway on earth during a rainstorm.

“No, no.” The Doctor smiled, the only one out of all four of you who still looked enthusiastic while you, Loki and Donna all glared at him while the rain poured down on you. “This is New Earth!”

“I don’t care if it’s brand, spanking New Earth, it’s cold and it’s wet and we’re surrounded by rubbish!” Donna complained, as she wrapped her arms around her torso to protect herself from the elements.

“I think I just saw a rat.” Loki added.

Donna let out a ear piercing screech as she leaped into the air in fright.

“Come on! Where’s your sense of adventure?” The Doctor tried to hype you all up.

“Doctor, a cold and wet, rat infested alleyway isn’t exactly what I would call my idea of an adventure.” You told him, and his smile dropped when he looked at all three of you and saw your miserable faces.

“Fine,” he begrudgingly caved in with a sigh. “Get back in the TARDIS, I’ll take us somewhere else.”

You all simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief and began following the Doctor back into his ship one after another, with you following behind last but before you could step foot through the doors you felt an arm grab you around your waist and pull you backwards. You felt a sudden falling sensation, as if the arm had dragged you straight off a cliff edge. From what you could see it looked as though you were falling through a kaleidoscope. All this barely lasted two seconds, as all of a sudden you once again felt the solid ground beneath your feet. Your heart was hammering in your chest like a woodpeckers beak against a tree, as you patted down your body just to make sure everything arrived with you since you were pretty certain you had just teleported.

With wide eyes you looked around the dimly lit basement which had paint chipping off its walls and was filled with an unsettling scent of chemicals. In the background you could hear the sound of a party coming through speakers, you discovered it was coming from a projection on one of the walls. The footage showed a beautiful blonde woman dressed in a stunning silver dress which was accessorised with expensive jewellery, all attention was on her as she elegantly glided around the room while handsome men dressed in tuxedos fawned over her.

“Mistress! I brought you a pure-blood human.” You heard a timid voice, you immediately looked towards the direction it came from to find a small man with patterns on his pale face, hunched over like an elderly person and dressed in white scrubs.

“Don’t be frightened, my child.” You jumped, startled by a second voice, this one feminine and aristocratic, it sounded almost identical to the one that belonged to the elegant woman in the projected footage. For a moment you didn’t realise where it came from but then you noticed the sheet of skin with a face attached to it. The skin was tethered to a metal frame like a trampoline and you gasped in horror at the sight.

“Well done, Chip. You have delivered me a truly fine specimen.” The talking piece of skin praised the cowering man, who you assumed was her servant.

“Come closer, my child. Let me get a proper look at you.” She tried to tempt you towards her but you weren’t an idiot.

“I think I’ll just stay right here, thanks.” You refused, going as far to take a few steps backwards.

“Suit yourself.” The skin smiled to herself before her eyes shifted from you to the projection. “I remember that night, that was the last time anyone told me I was beautiful.”

You watched the footage as a man kissed the back of her hand and you heard him call her Cassandra.

“After that, it all became such hard work.” Cassandra continued. “But I’ve not been idle. Tucked away down here I finally developed a solution to all my problems.”

“And what’s that?” You were afraid to ask.

“Chip, activate the psychograft!” Cassandra ordered her humble servant.

Instantly your arms were immobile as an electric force bound them to a barrier which you hadn’t realised you had stepped into, no matter how hard you tried to pull free, your arms wouldn’t budge.

“Cassandra, what are you doing?” You gasped mid-sentence as a circle of light surrounded you.

“Moving on! New life, new body, new me!” Cassandra cheered and a gold essence evaporated from her skin and travelled through the air towards you.

Your chest tightened as you realised what was about to happen as the sparkling gold cloud reached you, it sank into your chest through your skin and flesh, once it was all inside you the force restraining you vanished and your limp body collapsed to the floor. Your head smacked against a loose pipe as gravity pulled you into it’s hard embrace.

***

You had been right behind Loki when you were taken, which mean he had heard you yelp in shock when you felt the arm wrapped around your waist which made him turn to see what prompted such a reaction, only to watch you vanish into thin air right before his eyes.

He called your name, in the tone of a question, into the now empty alleyway which was useless since you were already gone but it caught the attention of Donna.

“What’s wrong?” She turned to Loki after hearing the confusion in his tone when he spoke your name.

That’s when the Doctor looked up from the ships console, his own brows furrowed with concern as he looked between Donna and Loki.

The Doctor realised you were the only one who wasn’t present and asked where you were, though his question was more of a statement to bring attention to your lack of presence.

“Someone grabbed her and then they vanished.” Loki explained.

“What... what do you mean ‘vanished?’” Donna looked at Loki in disbelief, not trusting the mischievous God, she rushed back towards the doors and stepped back out into the rain shouting your name into the alleyway, her voice reverberated off of the walls.

“It must have been a short range teleport, like a vortex manipulator.” The Doctor concluded. “Nasty and cheap.” He added in a barely coherent mumble.

He was already rushing around the console tempering with all sorts of switches in a seemingly random order. “If I can hone in on its signal, maybe I can follow its last route.”

“Got it!” He announced only a few moments later.

“Donna!” The Doctor yelled towards the double doors of the TARDIS.

“What is it, do you know where they went?” Donna came running back into the TARDIS, freshly wet from the rain.

“I found the signal which was left behind by the teleportation device they used, I set the TARDIS controls to follow its last route. Hold on.” With that the Doctor pulled down the leaver and everyone knew to hold on tight during this part as tremors shook the whole TARDIS.

Loki and the Doctor held onto opposite sides of the console while Donna clung to the railing beside the doors. It didn’t take long for the tremors to subside as a wheezing sound filled the control room signalling that the TARDIS was landing. Once the ship fell silent Donna rushed out the doors without hesitation, ignoring the Doctor as he called her name and ran after her.

Donna cried your name as soon as she saw you collapsed on the floor, then she noticed the creature with patterns on his face crouched over you.

“Get away!” Donna yelled at Chip as she rushed to your side, she fell to her knees beside you and harshly pushed the creature away and he fell on his back before he quickly scurried away to cower in a corner as the Doctor came running out the TARDIS, followed by Loki.

Donna made room for the Doctor as he knelt beside her and scanned his sonic screwdriver over your body, while Donna stroked your hair, her eyes began filling with tears.

“She’s okay.” The Doctor reassured Donna as he studied his screwdriver, Donna let out a sob of relief and wrapped your limp hand between both of hers and held it against her heart.

“Loki, take her back into the TARDIS. I’m going to take a look around here.” The Doctor instructed, while he glanced around the dull basement.

The Doctor moved, allowing Loki to take his place, Donna moved slightly to give him enough room to scoop you into your arms.

“Be careful.” Donna told him, Loki’s brows pulled together, ready to snap at the woman, he was already helping, when he didn’t have to, she didn’t have to make him sound incompetent while he did so but as he turned to Donna ready to unleash his pent up frustration, he saw her eyes weren’t focused critically on him but they were filled with concern over you as they were trained on you unconscious form and Loki realised that she wasn’t nagging him, she was only worried about you. The tension left his brows and his eyes softened as he gave Donna a small nod and secured his hold on you.

Donna held the TARDIS door open and Loki carried you through, once they were both in the control room Loki continued walking towards the corridors which lead deeper into the ship.

“Where are you going?” Donna fret, expecting him to have put you down on the floor of the control room.

“I’m taking her to her room, her bed will be more comfortable than the floor.” Loki explained without stopping, he recalled how uncomfortable it was when he awoke on the floor of the control room, despite the fact you tried to offer him some comfort by resting his head in your lap.

It had sent an unfamiliar feeling through his chest that you had concerned yourself over his comfort. He could count the amount of people on one hand who would ever willingly rest his head in their lap and those people were Thor and his mother, everyone else either simply wouldn’t care or would be far too afraid of him to ever allow themselves to get that close.

Since you had concerned yourself with his comfort and he was aware of how uncomfortable the TARDIS floor was, he thought it was only fair that he, too, saw to it that you were comfortable.

He was never one for concerning himself over other people’s needs, likely due to the fact he always felt as though no one ever cared about his but as soon as he felt cared about by you, he found himself considering your needs, whether it was intentional or not.

When the Doctor had handed the three of you protein shakes he knew immediately that he had no use for it, so he took it back to his room and dumped it on the bed as he went to shower with the intention of leaving it untouched. As he showered, no matter how much he tried to think about anything else, he kept thinking about the way he heard your stomach growl when you were stood next to him in the corridor and how he had something which could diminish your hunger, that he had no use for, so the logical thing to do was to give it to you, since you clearly needed it.

Just because it was the logical thing to do didn’t mean Loki was going to do it, at least that’s what he told himself, but as he started to get dressed in some comfortable clothes he found in the wardrobe, his eyes kept glancing over at the discarded bottle on the bed.

In the end he concluded that since he was planning to talk to the Doctor, meaning he would inevitably pass by your room on the way, he would knock on your door and leave the bottle on the floor for you to find while he quickly made himself scarce.

Of course things didn’t go to plan and he found himself still stood at your door once you opened it.

Once he made it to your bedroom he gently placed you on your bed, over the top of your duvet, making sure your pillow was under your head and then stepped away to let Donna sit beside you.

Loki paused halfway between the bed and the door, wondering if he should stay or go, he nervously fidgeted with his fingers. You had stayed with him when he was unconscious but you already had Donna, she was your auntie, you didn’t need him he decided so he turned on his heel and stepped towards the door.

“You don’t have to go.” Donna offered, when she heard his footsteps, he looked at her from over his shoulder.

Loki considered this for a moment before he finally walked over to an armchair in your room and sat on it with his legs spread and his elbows resting on his knees.

“Moisturise me.” Donna and Loki sat up when they heard you mumble and you began to come around.

“Moisturise? Moister... oh water? You want water?” Donna tried to work out what you meant.

“Moisturise me.” You repeated, still half unconscious.

“I’ll get you some water, don’t worry. I’ll be right back.” Donna promised you as she stood up and rushed out the room, leaving you alone with Loki.

When your eyes finally pushed themselves open, they only saw a plain white ceiling which was far too clean to belong to the basement, which is the last place you remember being, so you came to the conclusion that someone had moved you. You wanted to sit up but when you tried to command your body to move, it wouldn’t, you begun to panic wondering if you had become paralysed but then you sat up without even trying, it was like an invisible force moved your body for you. Immediately you felt a pressure build in your skill, like your brain was being compressed.

You heard Loki’s voice say your name and the invisible force allowed you to see him as he stood from the armchair. You were in your bedroom, on the TARDIS, relief filled you as you looked at Loki’s familiar face and you wanted to smile and run over to him and tell him what happened but instead your body remained sat on the bed.

“Yes... that’s who I am.” Cassandra replied to him, using your voice but you could hear yourself, you didn’t sound right you spoke with a upper-class accent that didn’t belong to you.

“And you’re a tall, handsome stranger.” Cassandra dragged your eyes down Loki’s body with no concern about being subtle and if you were in control of your own body your cheeks would’ve been burning hot by now.

“I’m not a stranger, you know who I am.” Loki responded with a confused tilt of his head.

“Tell me again.” Cassandra prompted him, she made your voice low and breathy as she pressed your palms against your mattress and leaned your body towards the man who stood at the edge of your bed while she innocently looked up at him from under your lashes.

“Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief.” Loki couldn’t resist answering, his own voice growing deeper as he believed his title appealed to you and that’s why you wanted to hear him say it.

“A God?” Cassandra gasped as she made you move onto all fours and slowly begin crawling to the edge of the bed until you were knelt right before the God.

“That’s right.” Loki answered breathily, his eyes never leaving you as Cassandra moved your hands to grasp Loki by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer, he moved without protest.

“Does that make you immortal?” Cassandra whispered, your lips almost brushing his from how close your faces were and she continued to peer at him from under your lashes while he looked down at you with hooded eyes which kept glancing towards your lips, Cassandra lifted them into a smirk.

“It does.” Loki answered, his voice so deep it was practically a growl and Cassandra made you moan as she suddenly forced you to tighten your fists around Loki’s lapels and pull him down until his lips smacked with yours. Cassandra moved your arms from Loki’s lapels to around his shoulders and made your fingers dig into his long, dark hair grasping a strong hold so his head wouldn’t move away from yours.

You heard Loki let out a deep moan and his hands grasped your hips and pulled them flush with his own. As Cassandra made you continue kissing him you felt the unbearable pressure in your head begin to disappear.

You hadn’t noticed that the door to your bedroom had opened until you heard the sound of a glass smash.

“What the hell?!” Donna cried, immediately Loki let go of your hips and without his strong hold supporting you, you felt your whole body go weak as you collapsed back onto the bed but you noticed as you fell back you moved your own arm to brace your fall. Experimentally you waved your other arm around in front of your face to confirm you were once again in control of your own movements.

Then reality hit you as you realised what Donna had just walked in on but before you could even begin to try and explain you heard loud footsteps echoing through the corridor as they ran towards your bedroom.

“Donna!” You could hear the Doctor shouting, before you saw him run through the open door of your bedroom.

“Cassandra, get out–“ The Doctor yelled towards you his face full of fury but his foot slipped on the water from the glass Donna had dropped and he went flying to the floor.

“Doctor?!” Donna gasped and rushed to help him up as he groaned in pain from the impact.

“Donna, that’s not your niece!” The Doctor warned Donna.

“What do you mean? Of course, she is.” Donna argued with the Doctor, who was finally back on both feet.

“She’s been possessed by Cassandra.” The Doctor explained, looking Donna straight in the eye as he held his hands on both her shoulders to convey how serious he was. “She’s the last surviving human and she refuses to die, she’s trying to use your nieces body as a vessel.”

“I’m me again!” You tried to explain.

“Get out of her now, Cassandra!” The Doctor ordered.

“She already has,” you attempted to explain again. “She left me after she made me kiss Loki.”

All eyes in the room fell on the God who was checking himself out in the floor length mirror beside your wardrobe. When he realised the room had fell silent and felt everyone’s attention on him, he turned and looked at you all with a smirk and then his eyes landed on the Doctor.

“Hello, Doctor.” Cassandra greeted the Time Lord flirtatiously, through Loki. “Long time no see, and it looks like we both got new faces.”

#loki (marvel)#loki #doctor who #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki imagine #the doctor #Tenth Doctor #tom hiddleston #Donna Noble

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whipplefilter · 3 years ago

Note

So one of my favorite Cars fanfics, Lone Star (formerly The Lost and the Lonely), was finally completed last week, despite having been on extended hiatus for some time. In honor of the author's determination, I was wondering if you have any headcanons of your own on the central theme of the story. How does the differing fuel efficiency of different vehicles affects in the Carsverse? Do you think that fluctuations in fuel availability and pricing has a stronger impact on culture there?

I'm sorry, I don’t know the fanfic or what it’s about, so please take this as a post that’s just about the last part of this and not related to the fic at all. But congratulations to them!

Gasoline in the Carsverse is fascinating to me, because Cars 2 suggests a general societal interest in alternative fuel, fears about alternative fuel, a horizon of need for alternative fuel, etc. But at the same time, they don’t seem all that specific about what goes into their tank—Lightning being fed on Flo’s 87 octane and whatever goes into Fillmore’s organic fuel would probably kill a racecar in our world, because that’s not what their engines are tuned for, but he seems to do perfectly fine with it in Cars 1.

I mean, the cars just seem more versatile in general, in terms of Lightning’s general ability to roll around and drive at low speeds, which racecars also aren’t really geared for—there’s a reason that sometimes racecars need a push start when they’re trying to get out of the pits. But again, if this is an issue for Lightning and the other Piston Cup racers they don’t say anything about it. (I personally like to believe that it kind of is—it’s a feature of life that requires some finagling, but they’re used to it and don’t think that much about it; and it’s kind of an unspoken Piston Cup rule that you do not, just like you don’t talk about how often all of your components get replaced, or the fact that racing often hurts quite a bit, even if you don’t get wrecked—but the difference isn’t as pronounced or troublesome as it would be in our world.)

But I digress. I imagine fuel efficiency for the cars is a lot like people having different metabolic rates—some people have bodies that require more energy to function appropriately. It’s something that so much a given it probably flies under the radar a lot. That their energy comes from gasoline instead of food doesn’t seem like it would matter all that much, and I think as far as oil scarcity goes they might be in a better place than our version of this planet is. For one, there are a lot fewer of them than there are of us—AND we own cars. In the Carsverse, a small town has what, like 12 cars in it? Whereas similar towns along I-40 in Arizona have a couple hundred, a couple thousand people, and still have the same vibe as Radiator Springs. So having a much smaller population helps. Industrial agriculture is also one of the biggest drivers of carbon gas emissions in our world. While there’s some insinuation that the cars are capable of eating solid food--there's that crabfishing boat at the beginning of Cars 2, for instance, and also the presence of wasabi, etc.--it seems like more of a cultural novelty than a means of sustenance. So they’ve got that on us, too.

I like to think that the cars live in a gentler universe than ours, even though war and racism and classism and fascism and many other -isms are still part of their world, too. I think differences in fuel efficiency are probably a lot more normalized in their world than ours, because difference is a lot more normalized in their world than ours. In the sense that like, there are a lot more cars on their roads that are older than 5-10 years than there tend to be on ours. Their useful lifespans are counted differently than for our cars. I also don’t think they’re yet at a point where fuel availability/pricing is an active concern of theirs, even as they are beginning to explore alternative energy, EVs, etc. Moreover, I like to think that they are capable of envisioning a world with ample social safety nets and egalitarian notions of access.

#cars fandom #cars worldbuilding #pixar cars #cars 2 #asks #thanks for this q!

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pagingdoctorbedlam · 3 years ago

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My final potion for @quirkyseastone ‘s “Brew a Love Potion” event is complete! Hope you’re ready for the fluffiest darn thing I’ve written for this fandom (and possibly ever).

Characters: Franky x Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU, Fluff

TW/CW: Mentions of loss/death

Inspiration: Kudos to “A Long Way to a Small Angry Planet” by Becky Chambers for inspiring this fic~

Word Count: 2.7k words

"Alright, we've successfully docked. Good job, crew." You sit up from the captain's chair and gaze out at the starport outside your window. It's been some time since you'd landed on one of the Sabaody Moons, but you've always found the view breathtaking. The moons are more tree than earth, and bubbles slowly float from the roots up toward the stars. While some of the moons are still hives of scum and villainy, others seem almost paradisiacal as beings from far-flung galaxies intermingled in the Sabaody ports.

Before you can get too far from the bridge, the intercom of the Thousand Sunny buzzes to life. It's Franky, the A.I. that runs your ship. "Hey Captain, can I nab a word with ya' before you go on shore leave?"

"Sure thing. Need me here, or down in the core room?"

"Core Room, if ya' don't mind. I've got a super new design to run by you." Though Franky works admirably as a ship A.I., he'd originally been coded to design ships, including the one he now ran, the 1000 Suns (colloquially the Thousand Sunny to you and your crew). Even though his focus is now centered on ship diagnostics and flight procedures, the A.I. still delights in crafting new machine schematics, and you have a rule that he needs your approval before he modifies the ship.

You wave off the rest of the bridge crew, and they're all too eager to touch solid ground again after months in space. You are too, but if Franky's waited this long to check on you, it's likely something for your ears only while the rest of the crew is offboard. You stride through the winding metal hallways that make up the ship's guts, flashing your clearance badge here and there until you are down in the deep bowels of the ship, close enough to the engines that you can hear the machinery thrumming as the ship went through cooldown procedures. It's familiar. You come down here more often than others would expect, enough that you've got a futon and blanket stashed nearby for nights you don't spend in your own cabin.

"Franky? Said you wanted to see me?" You call out as you entered the Core Room. The entire room is covered in segments of a giant computer, with retractable screens and limbs for interacting with others; all of this is Franky. In a way, you're standing in his brain, which is something you try not to think about too much. What catches your attention is that all the screens are down, a rarity when Franky has company.

"Sure do!" His voice echoes, but not from the speakers. "Got a surprise for you. Close your eyes a sec, alright Captain?"

"Franky..." You're sure no other ship A.I.s play games with their commanding officers, but then again, you've yet to meet an A.I. with half the personality Franky has. You close your eyes and cover them with your hands. "Alright, ready when you are."

You expect to hear wheels, a cart with some sort of prototype wheeling into the room. Instead there are footsteps, heavy and so in-sync that it borders on unnatural. Then a hand on your shoulder, warm and soft. Too curious to resist temptation, you open your eyes and peek through your fingers.

"Franky, is this...?"

"An android body? It sure is!" He spins you around and takes a step back so you can take in his full visage. He looks human for the most part, even if the muscles in his forearms are overemphasized and patches of metal poke out from his skin. Still, he has skin, the medical-grade sort often used for replacing lost flesh in humans, and hair that's sculpted into a bright blue pompadour. He must have borrowed clothes from someone in medical too, though he's only wearing a floral patterned shirt, sunglasses, and a speedo. You suppose he was too excited for the big reveal to finish getting dressed.

"You made this, Franky?"

"Yeah, alongside Dr. Chopper and the rest of the medical team, plus Usopp over in Engineering. Surprised none of 'em spilled the beans." He flexes to show off the musculature of his arms. "We'd talked about what happened to your last ship, and figured we should make me a back-up body in case I ever needed to leave the ship with you all. Not that I plan for anything to happen to the Sunny..."

"But better safe than sorry." You still miss Merry, your sweet A.I. lost with your previous ship. She and Franky would've gotten along well, you think. "It's a good plan, I approve."

"Excellent! Now I just need to take it for a spin, test it outside the ship. Seeing as we've docked for the time being..."

Ah. Now you see what he's getting it. Pretty sly, for an A.I. "As your Captain, I'll accompany you on your first excursion out on the spaceport, to make sure everything's in working order." You offer an arm. He raises an eyebrow. "Loop it with mine. Like this...there we go. Now let's get going, shall we?"

Even among the strangest aliens, Franky stands out in his own way at the space docks. This is only partially due to his lack of pants: he claims this is because he designed his legs to vent most of the heat his body builds up, and you wouldn't want him to overheat and faint on his first outing, would you? No, he stands out because even though he's clearly an android, there's an excitement to him that would rival even the most starry-eyed space explorers.

"Would ya' take a look at this, Captain?" You'd expect to find Franky gawking at any number of the docked spaceships, and indeed he's gushed about many of them already. Instead, he directs your attention to one of the tree roots. A trail of iridescent beetles scurry up the bark, and overhead, a couple smaller Southbirds (rare here, likely escaped cargo from the planet Skypiea) call to each other as they watch the busy port below.

"Thought you'd studied all these, Franky." After all, he's a powerful computer who can research multiple ideas at once, and innately curious as any inventor tends to be. And he's asked you and the crew many, many questions about the world beyond his metal hull.

"Yeah, but no matter how advanced the notes and visuals might be, it doesn't compare with the real thing. I mean, look at 'em!" He points at one particular beetle as its shell reflects the lights of the spaceport back with an opalescent sheen. "Even if you could theoretically simulate all this on a computer, most wouldn't think to do so on their own. Out here, stuff just...happens."

You have never seen an A.I. quite so excited about life outside, but then again, you've never met an A.I. quite like Franky. "Yeah, I guess that is pretty exciting when you put it that way. Part of the wonders of space travel; you never quite know what's going to happen out here."

Then a realization hits your brain with the full-bodied force of a supernova. "Franky, you've spent so much time traveling through the stars, but have you ever actually seen them the way we do?"

Franky looks up at the sky overhead. "Hard to see 'em from up here, even if I zoom out my eyes to max. Watch this!" His eyes...actually telescope out of his head. That's a bit disturbing with how human he looks. "Figure that's due to light pollution, though. Pretty bright out here."

"Sure is." You offer your arm to him again. "Come with me; I'll show you how folks groundside go out to look at the stars."

Years ago, you'd come out of the harshest space battle of your life. Your crew narrowly avoided becoming space dust, and after giving her all to save you, you lost Merry. The ship that had been with you since the beginning, the A.I. with the biggest heart you'd ever met. As her files corrupted and her hull fell apart, you'd honored her final wish and set her ablaze once you reached planetside, cremating her as one would a human. You still carry a vial of her ashes on a necklace, so you never forget what you've lost to get this far.

You'd wandered through the streets of the moon of Water 7 in a daze. Hadn't even paid attention where you went as the rest of the crew licked their wounds. Before you knew it, a robotic voice called out to you from the depths of a starship demolition yard.

"What's got you down, Captain? Can't be you're sad to be out among the stars!"

You'd blinked, not recognizing the source of the voice. But you called back, "I just lost someone important to my crew. My ship." You didn't care if most folks didn't see A.I.s as people. Merry had been more than a crewmate to you. She'd been a friend.

Even though the voice emanating from the demo-yard was auto-tuned monotone, it took on a warmer tone somehow. "I'm sorry to hear that. But you say you're looking for a ship? I might be able to help with that." A crackle of static. "And if you'd like, you can tell me about your lost pal. I can't bring 'em back for you...but I've heard that talking about these kinda' things helps."

"You don't even know who I am."

"No one does when they first meet, do they? Speaking of which, call me Franky."

Somehow, pouring your heart out to a stranger was easier than talking to your crewmates. You'd wandered into the heart of the scrapheaps and talked to the mysterious Franky, his voice surrounding you from so many static-filled speakers. You'd watched as overhead, he controlled cranes to start putting pieces of a mighty vessel together. He'd asked about your specifications, what you'd loved about Merry both as a ship and a friend. You'd cried. He did too. And when you'd asked how much the ship would cost, he said the only charge would be that he could come along.

You agreed willingly, overjoyed to have such a skilled shipwright onboard. It was only when you talked to the demo-yard owner that you learned that the person you'd poured your heart out to was an A.I.

That didn't stop you from doing so again once the Thousand Sunny was complete, and Franky took to his new home in his core room. You'd wander down into the depths of the Thousand Sunny whenever you needed a second opinion on the ship or a mission, and soon after that just to talk. You'd spent hours surrounded by the computer that served as Franky's brain for so long, talking and laughing just as you used to with Merry. Except, it was more than that with him. He wasn't just a friend, you'd realized over time. But you'd shoved those thoughts away. It was ludicrous, falling in love with an A.I. whose brain you could walk through, whose body was a starship you controlled with the push of a few buttons.

But now he has a body. You can squeeze his giant hand, and he squeezes back so softly as he gets used to his own strength. He smiles the way you always imagined he would, grinning with pearly white teeth and eyes that (literally) glow with joy.

He follows you with infinite curiosity as you weave through the Sabaody streets and gather supplies for your excursion. You ask about his body's capabilities and discover his fuel source is...astonishingly close to soda, so you pick up a few colas along with some food for you. Franky gets to carry a blanket hand-woven by the locals, and you catch him marveling at the texture when he thinks you aren't looking. Finally, you rent a small paddleboat to traverse the moon with, and a map that lays out the canals and waterways of this particular moon.

"You know, it'd be a lot faster if I rowed," Franky says, mouth quirked into a lopsided grin as your comparatively tiny arms pull the oars back and forth. It's amazingly, how perfectly imperfect he looks, more human than any other android you've seen even with all the metal bits.

"There's an old human adage about the journey being more important than the destination, Franky. Take in the experience."

You watch as his attention zeroes in along the waterways, eyes zooming in on every detail until they're pulled away to something new. You expect him to be interested in the flora and fauna, as opalescent leaves bigger than your boat stretch over the water to shade you from the encroaching moonlight and soft purple creatures vaguely reminiscent of otters circle your boat before chasing each other down the river. But the entire world is new to him, and you find him fascinated by even the dirt or the buzzing insects swarming your head.

"Aww, look. I think it likes me!" Franky lifts one giant finger, where a mosquito (why did those have to be a universal constant?) tries and fails at piercing his skin.

"It probably thinks you're human and is trying to suck your blood," you point out, as the bugs try to use you as a personal juicebox. This only gets Franky to smile. Must feel validating, having even nature recognize him for what he is in his heart.

It takes a bit more rowing, but you finally arrive at your destination. A small island, mostly shore, with a small field and a lone tree with leaves that glow silver in the moonlight. You dock the boat on the shore, then set up the blanket and food for a small picnic. You motion for Franky to sit with you, and can't help but laugh a little at the faces he makes when touching sand for the first time. Then you lay back on the blanket. Franky joins you, and his eyes go wide.

A ribbon of starlight glimmers overhead. Hundreds of constellations twinkle overhead. You'd ask if he knows any, but you keep quiet so you don't break his wonder-filled gaze.

His giant hand encases yours. "Space seems even bigger from here than it does when you're in the middle of it. I mean, look at all those stars! I read that you could see 'em from so far away, but seeing it in person..."

"This is what inspired me to go into space," you say. Your finger drifts up to the brightest star in the sky. "I'd look at that one and say, I'm going to go there someday! Didn't care how far away it was, or even what might be around it. Just wanted to head to the brightest star I could."

Franky narrows his gaze up at that star. "That's over eight light years away. Might take a bit, even with a warp drive like mine. But if that's where you wanna' go? I'll take you anywhere, Captain. Long as we're together, I'll explore every corner of the universe with you."

For a moment, both of you are quiet. The air fills with the gentle rhythm of the flowing water, the buzz of insects, bushes rustling as creatures move in the night. In the distance, the hum of a starship engine taking off from the port; you soon see its lights trail across the sky as it ascends back into that void above, the space that's so comforting because it holds planets and stars and spaceships and you and Franky all together in its embrace.

"I think this is the part where one of us says 'I love you'," Franky says softly.

You smile and squeeze his hand back. "You're such a romantic. But yeah, you're right. And I do. I love you."

"Love you too, Captain. And thanks. For, y'know, helping me be human."

"Franky, you've got more heart than most anyone I know. You're plenty human already. I'm just here to steer you steady. And I always will."

You pass the rest of the night watching the stars overhead. And for the captain and A.I. of a starship, you wouldn't have it any other way.

#seas brew a love potion challenge #bedlam writes #cyborg franky #franky x reader #scifi au #fluff

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