#and sometimes for a second. he doesn’t see the ai of his dead friend but he sees midori right in front of him

[its-haughty]

Can I request you draw soushi- nah I’m kidding give us more keishin PLEASE

ok i’ll combine both your ideas into one horrible mess if thats ok

[shah-writes]

an artificially intelligent curse

so i read this article about a man who uses AI to speak with his dead fiancee and i simply cannot stop thinking about it. there’s no MCD in this! but you can find my thoughts at the bottom.

tldr; think AI + Inception + Drarry

“Draco’s dying.”

Ron is Harry’s best friend in the whole world but sometimes he can be a bit daft. 

“No, he’s not,” Harry replies serenely. He’s not. Draco is in the kitchen, wearing the light blue sweater Harry gave him last Christmas and a rosy flush Harry gave him two minutes ago. 

“They think you can help him.” Ron is staring at a point above Harry’s shoulder. Harry shifts slightly to follow Ron’s gaze and finds Draco standing there, levitating three steaming mugs of tea onto the table. 

Except. Except, Draco doesn’t drink tea. He drinks cheap, Instant coffee, a consequence of his time spent working in America. Harry teases him about it all the time. 

There’s a slight thud as two mugs hit the table, the third has vanished. 

Draco settles into a chair. “No tea for me,” he says playfully. There’s a small Statue of Liberty trinket on the bookshelf behind Ron. Harry relaxes. 

“Ron was just telling me a story,” Harry shares.

Draco smiles and leans forward expectantly on the table. It’s a set they thrifted last weekend: one Walnut table and four Cherry chairs— one ingredient away from a meal, Draco had joked. 

“It’s a curse, Harry. ‘Mione figured it out. It’s preying on your memories.”

Harry gives Ron a conciliatory nod and reaches out to brush a dark curl away from Draco’s forehead. Draco has platinum hair, he remembers, as an afterthought. 

The strands shift to a blinding white immediately. Or were they always white? They must have been, Draco would never dye his hair. 

“It’s you, Harry. You’re teaching it how to trap you.”

Harry reluctantly turns back toward Ron. 

“What makes us human?” Ron asks. “Harry, I know you can hear me, you just have to listen. What makes us human?”

“I… I don’t know,” Harry mumbles. 

“Instinct, Harry. Emotion and instinct.”

Ron is sitting on a cushioned armchair and Harry wonders absently where he got it. All Harry has are four Cherry chairs. He nearly expects to see Ron’s chair transform into dark wood. It doesn’t.

“You can’t teach humanity,” Ron continues. “You can teach a Thing how to learn, how to adapt. You can force it to consume everything around it until it knows right from wrong. Until it becomes as intelligent as any of us, but you can never teach it instinct. Look around, Harry, use your instinct.”

There’s a portrait on the wall. Four people. Harry and Draco. An older woman with almond-shaped green eyes and freckles over her nose; an older man with dark skin and Harry’s own unruly hair. 

“Hermione’s calling it an AI-Curse. Artificial Intelligence. It sweeps through your mind quickly and puts together a scenario where you feel comfortable. It’ll get things wrong, of course. It doesn’t know which memories are relevant, which are wrong, which are just daydreams. That’s where you come in. You tell It when it’s wrong and you reward It when it’s right.”

Draco’s sitting still at the table. Harry beckons him over. 

“I love that picture of us,” Draco says happily, laying his head on Harry’s shoulder. 

“What is this?”

“Us and your parents, silly.”

“Draco, my parents are dead. They’ve been dead for 27 years.”

Draco blinks. “I know. Do you miss them?”

Harry snaps back to the portrait. His parents have disintegrated out of the frame. 

Ron’s still sitting at the table in his armchair. “Malfoy’s condition is deteriorating. He’s succumbing to the curse. Once he’s given up all of his memories, he’ll die trapped in a fake world of his own design.”

“Stop,” Harry says; and then, “STOP,” louder, facing Ron. Ron doesn’t hear him. Because… because Ron’s not here. Ron and his stubborn, incongruous armchair aren’t here. Harry can hear the humming of Mungo’s Stasis charms echoing somewhere in his mind, the quiet bustle of the hallway, the frantic whispering.  

The only person here is Draco. Draco, who barely ever comes over to Harry’s flat. Draco, who flirts with him over lunches but flinches away when Harry reaches out to sweep his blonde hair off his forehead.

There’s a rosy flush on Draco’s cheeks except Harry’s not the one that gave it to him. Harry’s never kissed Draco; they’re partners and friends and maybe something that transcends description, but not this. Not yet.

“Draco, why are you here?”

“What do you mean?” Draco’s smiling at him, eyes soft. It’s a daydream. Harry swallows down the grief of the realization. 

“We’re not dating, we’re not anything, why are you in my flat?”

Draco freezes. 

“No, no, no, please, no,” Harry’s grasping at him desperately but there’s nothing there. Just pixels floating away from each other, dissolving into the air. 

“NO!” Harry’s kneeling, face hidden in his hands. “No, I can’t do this alone, I can’t, come back… please come back.” He knows it’s impossible; you can’t teach humanity, Ron had said. AI doesn’t understand emotions, won’t bring him back now that it knows he doesn’t belong. 

“They want to Obliviate you,” Ron continues, speaking at Harry’s bedside at Mungo’s, imitated in Harry’s subconscious. 

“What?” Harry turns and scrambles toward Ron.    

“Hermione had a near conniption,” he chuckles. “But it’s the logical solution. The curse absorbs everything you show it and gives it back to you, better and smarter. If there’s no data for it to learn from, then you’re free.”

Harry collapses into the chair beside Ron, mind whirling. The room twists around them. They’re in the Gryffindor Common Room now, Ginny and Hermione near the fireplace, no more Walnut table and Cherry chairs. Except, Molly Weasley’s washing dishes in the corner. No. 

Obediently, Molly Weasley pops away. And then, the room is shifting again. 

“Without memories, the curse will implode into the simplest version of itself: a basic mind trap. Straightforward, simple. The kind that Aurors learn in training.” 

“JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO, RON,” Harry bellows. 

The Burrow. Except, there are two Georges. No. The room glitches and restarts. 

“They won’t try Obliviation with Malfoy. Healers think it’s too late, that he’s too weak even to break out of the simplest version.”

The office and Draco… he’s back. He’s back and alive and leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, inspecting a takeout box. Yes. 

The room fills in further, encouraged. Case files pile up on Harry’s desk; Draco’s Statue of Liberty trinket is back, in the right place this time; an evidence board on the wall, newspaper clippings, Draco’s neat, white notes, Harry’s scrawl. 

“It’s unethical to deprive him of his memories now.” Ron says. 

Harry inspects the board closely. 7 people dead over 2 months. Inconsistencies in their deaths, but clearly perpetrated by the same actor. A pale blue envelope mailed to each victim. It explodes within minutes of delivery, enveloping its target into a coma.  

Seemingly random victims. A middle-aged mother, an elderly school teacher, a teenager days away from his 15th birthday. Muggles, Purebloods, Half-Bloods, and a Squib. Varying races, different financials. 

“Weird, isn’t it?” Draco’s staring at him. “Almost as if they chose the most diverse targets on purpose.”

Harry turns to him slowly, “Why?”

Draco tosses him an egg roll and shrugs, “Make sure we can’t trace them?” Draco joins him at the board, looks over the victim list.

The first had taken one month to die, slowly incapacitated. The second had taken only half that time, he had perished within two weeks. Faster and faster after that. The latest victim, a five-year old girl, was gone in three days. 

It was the first time, in five years of working together, that Harry saw Draco break down. Crouched outside her Mungo’s room, shivering, quiet; Harry had pulled him up and deposited him home. He came back to work two days later, his clenched jaw and fierce determination lodging itself into Harry’s heart.

Draco’s written a note under her picture: The curse is learning. 

“What is this?”

“You didn’t see the Mungo’s report? They think it’s targeting memories. With each iteration, it’s getting faster and killing quicker. Hermione was telling me about this thing…”

“Artificial Intelligence.”

“Exactly,” Draco smiles, surprised, “it absorbs huge amounts of data until it learns how to adapt to every condition.”

“The diverse victims— someone is teaching it how to learn, adapt to every condition,” Harry repeats. Draco’s standing near his desk again, illuminated by the soft light of his lamp. Soft blonde locks fall into his eyes as he looks over a case file. Harry wonders if this version will flinch away if he reaches out. Wonders if the curse has learned this detail yet. He hopes it hasn’t.

“They’re going to let him die in his own fake world. A peaceful death, they called it.” Ron is still sitting in the corner of the office, in a cushioned armchair.

Harry shakes his head, silently, frantically. There’s a pale blue envelope on Draco’s desk. 

“Draco, what is that?”

Draco looks at the envelope and back at Harry, nonchalant. Then, his face morphs into fear, mirroring Harry’s own expression. It’s the curse, it’s learning. Harry’s teaching it.

“The curse was targeting Malfoy. You were hit since you were in such close proximity, but it's a much weaker variant. You can make it out, Harry. You can help Malfoy navigate out.” Ron says from his corner.

“Harry,” Draco whispers. “What do I do?”

Harry strides forward, takes Draco’s shoulders in his hands. This is real now; Harry remembers this morning. “I’ll come for you, okay? We know what it is now, we’ll figure out how to stop it. Draco, you’ll be fine.”

Draco’s falling now. His eyes are shut, he’s laying on the floor, head tilted toward Harry.

Draco’s dying.

“RON, WHAT DO I DO? TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

Ron’s not in his corner anymore. He’s gone, and so is his armchair, and it’s just Harry alone, in his office, with Draco’s body. 

The room is still filling up around him. Draco’s coffee mug, steaming on his desk. Blank walls slowly plastered over with Auror-standard tan wallpaper. Except. Except, Severus Snape is standing over Draco.

Harry steps closer cautiously, willful not to let the curse know that Snape doesn’t belong. 

“The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than Potions,” Snape says, looking up at Harry with dark, hooded eyes. 

A memory, then. Out of place, but relevant. Harry remembers Ron’s words: The curse doesn’t know which memories are relevant. It’s guessing, responding to Harry’s needs. It’s helping. 

“Right. You’re right.” Harry says, loud. Snape solidifies, robes saturating darker. 

“Rid your mind of all emotion,” Snape continues. “Empty it, make it blank and calm.”

“Empty it,” Harry whispers. He takes a last look at Draco and closes his eyes. 

He opens them to a plain white room. Nothing on the walls, the floor. Nothing, except a door. A simple mind trap. Harry opens the door.

i just love the idea that the curse helps him get out. since AI is always developed in service to others, i like the idea that even weaponized as a curse, it would still adapt to the needs of its target and help them in any way possible. idk pals!!!! i just have a lot of thoughts about AI, come scream with me about it!!!!!!!

also, if you haven’t already, i would highly recommend reading the article this is based off-- it is fascinating.

[silksoftstars]

Secret family

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, platonic!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters: Reader, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, OC daughters, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Sam Wilson, Vision

Summary: You're Steve's wife and he hid you from SHIELD and the Avengers, because you have healing powers. When Steve got heavily injured from a mission, Bucky calls you, so you and your daughters visit the compound to heal Steve.

Word count: 2800+

Warnings: Injuries (mentioned), a little bit of angst but not really, fluff, Dad!Steve (if that's a warning)

A/N: Honestly my heart is breaking with this gif. Also it took me way too long to write this, because my stupid self accidentally deleted the story when I was halfway done.

You were currently at work, when you got a call from Bucky, your husbands best friend. A wave of relief washed over you. Steve and Bucky had been on a mission for the past few weeks and it was the first time you heard from them since you said goodbye to Steve.

A call was good. It meant they were back from the mission and you would see them again soon. You weren't surprised that Bucky called you instead of Steve, it was their agreement to keep you safe that they would take turns on calling you, so nobody would get suspicious.

You took your phone and answered the call with a smile.

"Hi Buck," you greeted happily.

"Hey Y/N," Bucky answered and paused. You could hear by his tone that something was wrong and your smile immediately fell.

"So umm" the brunette continued and stopped again. He sounded exhausted and worried.

"What's going on? Are you hurt? Talk to me," you urged and started chewing on your lip, something you always did when you were nervous or troubled.

"No I'm good. It's just.. Steve got hurt badly and he doesn't want you to know, but I figured that you would want to know. I kind of hoped that you would come to the compound and heal him. Only if you want to of course," Bucky explained hurriedly.

You took a deep breath and started planning in your head. You would need to leave work early and pick up the kids from the babysitter.

"I'll be there in 30 minutes tops. But I'll have to bring the kids, is that alright?" You asked, while you already cleaned your desk and started packing your bag.

"Yeah sure, I'll wait outside of the building to et you through security. See you," the soldier answered.

"See you. And please take care of yourself too," you ordered. You knew that if Steve was injured Bucky wouldn't be completely fine. They would always try and push each other out of harms way. You deeply admired their friendship, but sometimes it led to the boys making stupid irrational decisions.

"I promise," you heard Buckys sigh but you decided to ignore his unwillingness, so you just gave an agreeing hum and hung up.

-

You opened the door of your car and jumped out. You had parked you car in front of the compound. You closed the door and opened the door of the backseat. Your four-year old daughter Jamie looked up at you. She had a frown on her forehead and clutched her teddy to her chest. Jamie had always been a smart sensitive child and she knew something was wrong.

You undid her seat belt, lifted her out of her seat and placed her on the ground. You closed her door as well and walked around the car to open the other door. Your other daughter, Sarah, was only one year old and currently asleep.

You gently picked her up and adjusted her in your arms, so she sat on your left hip, secured by your arm. Sarah whimpered in her sleep and her tiny hand gripped your shirt. The other one was in her mouth.

"Shh" you hushed her and rubbed her back. She fussed for another few seconds, but then stilled again.

"Mommy? I'm scared," Jamie whispered as she walked up to you. Tears had gathered in her eyes.

You walked up to her and smiled reassuringly while pulling her into your side.

"It's alright, sweetheart. We're visiting Daddy and Uncle Bucky," you told her while you started walking towards the compound. You placed her hand on the back of Jamie's head and side hugged her slightly.

When you walked closer, you saw Bucky sitting on a bench in front of the entry. He had already spotted you and patiently waited for the three of you to come over.

"Hey," you smiled at Bucky. Jamie squealed in delight when she saw her uncle and ran over to him to jump into his arms.

The man caught her with ease and lifted her from the ground to bear hug her. He ruffled her blonde hair and chuckled.

"Hey there," Bucky grinned. His face was bruised and he had a busted lip. You walked up to him and you hugged, mindful of the two girls you both were carrying. You placed your free hand on Buckys chest after he had let you go and send your powers through him. His face and all other injuries disappeared in mere seconds.

"You shouldn't have," Bucky protested.

"Well I wanted to," you answered him and smiled gently.

"Where's Daddy?" Jamie asked and tugged on Buckys shirt impatiently.

"We'll go see him right now," the brunette said and then added towards you, "the team doesn't know you, they might me surprised, but I'm sure they'll love you. I'll introduce you first and then we'll see Steve"

"Okay sure," you shrugged. You were a bit nervous, but after everything Steve told you about his team, you were a little more confident.

Bucky led you inside of the compound and closed the door behind the two of you. Jamie pressed her face into Buckys shirt, clearly scared of the new invironment and the cool white walls.

"Hey Friday, please tell the team to gather in the common room!" Bucky ordered. You furrowed your brows and tried to figure out who he was talking to, when a female voice answered.

"Right away, Sargeant Barnes," she said and you jumped and looked around, searching for the person who spoke.

"Tony's AI," was the answer to your unspoken question.

Bucky led you through several hallways towards what you guessed was the common room.

"Steve is in the medical wing. They stabled him and they knocked him out with some medication, because he refused to sleep," Bucky told you while walking.

You came to an open room and heard voices inside. Jamie seemingly heard them too, because she pushed herself away from Bucky and reached for you with a look of panic on her face. Her stuffed animal was still in her one hand.

You took her from Bucky onto right hip, trying to balance the two girl out. While Jamie latched onto you like a lifeline, Bucky took his goddaughter Sarah from you. You smiled as a thanks and together you made your way into the room.

The brunette moved himself partly in front of you and held Sarah close to him, his protectiveness shining through.

"Why are we here, Frosty? And why do you have a baby?" You heard a voice, that you recognized as Tony Starks.

Bucky stepped to the side and placed his hand on your shoulder. Jamie decided to risk a peak at the people only to quickly look away again.

However you could understand that it was a little overwhelming. Jamie had always been a shy girl and in front of her were standing or sitting nine people, all staring at us.

"Mommy there's Iron man," she whispered in awe into your ear. Bucky chuckled and smiled at you in amusement.

"So guys, this is Y/N Rogers, Steve's wife. They baby is Sarah and that is Jamie. They're Steve's daughters" the soldier introduced you, while ruffling Jamie's hair.

"Excuse me...wife? Daughters? Did you hit your head?" Tony spluttered.

"Steve and I agreed that we should keep our relationship and especially our daughters a secret. With him being a super soldier and me being a mutant, our kids are in danger and we wanted to protect them," you explained gently.

"But it's Capsicle, he can't have kids," Tony protested, crossed his arms and pouted. You had to swallow down a laugh, since you didn't want to seem rude.

"Tony you're a child," a redhead scolded him with a stern look, "I'm Natasha, you can call me Nat," she added towards you.

"Daddy says that you're really cool and that you can even take down Uncle Bucky," Jamie said and peaked out from your shoulder again with wide eyes.

"He said that huhh?" Natasha grinned at Bucky playfully.

"Do we need introductions?" Bucky asked, clearly trying to distract everyone. You decided not to call him out on it.

"I think I'm good. I believe I know your names," you smiled and scanned over the people. There obviously were Tony and Nat, you had immediately recognized Sam Wilson, Doctor Banner and Clint Barton. The twins Wanda and Pietro sat on the couch and Vision stood behind Wanda.

Steve had showed you pictures of the Avengers and told you storys because you were curious about his second family.

"So you're a mutant?" Wanda asked you curiously.

"Yeah I have healing powers. That's why I'm here now. To heal Steve," you explained.

"So you can heal? How does it work? Do you have limits?" Bruce asked and pushed back his glasses. He looked rather adorable with how his obvious shyness and his curiosity battled.

"I mean I can't raise people from the dead and I can't heal chronological illnesses but pretty much every injury. But I have to admit that you, that I haven't tried that much other then simple injuries" You answered patiently.

Then Sarah woke up and started fussing in Buckys arms, in which response Jamie started crying as well. Wordlessly you took Sarah from Bucky and started to calm your two kids. You knew that Sarah was fed and that her diaper was clear so either she was tired or irritated by the new environment.

Jamie on the other hand was distressed because she was overwhelmed by all the new people, the knowledge that something was wrong with her dad and that her little sister was crying as well.

"Come on let's sit down," Bucky said, when he saw your struggle to held both of the girls in your arms and led you to the couch where Wanda and Pietro were placed.

I sat down on the edge and Jamie slid into your lap and hugged you tightly, while you rocked your weeping baby.

"I'm sorry guys," you apologized while you went on to calm your girls. Sarah had gone over to quiet sobbing.

"Oh don't worry about it, there's always someone in this compound crying," Sam quipped and smirked at Clint who responded with a huff.

Pietro scooted closer to me and tapped on Jamie's shoulder. She glimpsed up at him and he gave her a smile. Then he poked her side and she giggled slightly and hid her face again.

"Are you hiding from me?" Pietro asked playfully and poked her again.

"Mommy he talks funny," Jamie whispered and looked at Pietro again. She was talking about his sovokian accent.

"That's sounds cool, can you teach me to talk like that?" Jamie asked her blue doe eyes, that she clearly had from Steve, sparkled in admiration.

"I don't know if I can. But I can try," Pietro answered with a boyish grin.

"Can I play with him?" The blonde girl asked you and after your nod she jumped onto Pietro with a giggle.

You knew you could trust the enhanced boy, so you switched your focus on Sarah and rocked her until she was asleep again.

When you looked up again, you noticed that all of the Avengers were watching you. You smiled a little shyly.

"I kind of want to see Steve now," you said and looked at Bucky, then added "Can you watch Jamie and Sarah? I don't want to take them to Steve if he is hurt. They can see him later."

Bucky nodded and gently took Sarah from your arms and rested her head on his upper flesh arm. You got up and looked around. Your eyes found Bruce.

"You were interested in my powers earlier, you could come and watch, I mena if you want to," you awkwardly proposed and fiddled with the hem of your shirt. No-one had offered to show you to the medical wing and you were lost, especially that Bucky now wasn't at your side anymore.

But for you it was more important that Jamie had someone in the room she knew and trusted. And you didn't want her to see her dad hurt.

"Yeah sure that would be great," Bruce smiled widely. He looked like a kid that just had gotten it's favorite candy.

"I think I'll come too," Tony decided and jumped on his feet. He casually took you by the arm and led you out of the room, Bruce on your tails. You looked back and caught Bucky's gaze, who reassured you with a smile.

You were deadly worried ever since Buckys call but you had tried not to show it. But now your nerves were reaching a new high and you just wanted to see the love of your life and hug him.

Luckily the three of you had reached the medical wing and Tony opened a door for you. You walked in and a startled gasp escaped you. Steve was laying in a hospital bed in a gown.

But the worst part was his messy hair, his pale, drained skin and his bruised, beaten up face. It broke your heart. You covered your mouth with your left hand while you stepped closer.

Almost scared you reached out and cupped the side of Steve's face and traced his cheekbone carefully.

"So how does the healing work?" Tony asked and plopped down in a chair. You jumped and pried your eyes away from Steve.

"Tony!" Bruce hissed and send me an apologetic glance.

"It's alright. Uhmm so basically it's like I have this power and I can feel it inside of me and I can send it into his body and the wounds heal and the power returns. At least thats what it feels like, it's kind of hard to explain," you shrugged and looked back at Steve.

Since you could no longer look at Steve, looking that horrible so you put your hand on Steve's chest and started your healing.

You all watched how the bruises and injuries healed and the color returned to his cheeks. A relieved sigh made it over your lips when you saw you husbands eyelids flutter and they slowly opened. A frown built on his forehead as he blinked and adjusted his eyes to the light.

"Hey Stevie," you cooed and stroked over his cheeks again. Steve's eyes found mine and they glittered full of love and admiration but also confusion.

"Hey Y/N/N, what are you doing here?" He asked and scanned the room his eyes lingering on Tony and Bruce for a moment. Apparently a silent conversation, that I didn't understood, took place and soon enough was Tony dragged out of the room by Bruce, despite his protests.

"Bucky gave me a call, said you were heavily injured. So I grabbed the kids and drove here as fast as I could," you explained and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You shouldn't have. Being even near my workplace puts you in danger," the blonde protested half heartedly.

"Well I'm rather on the run with you then in this world without you. Please just for a minute let me appreciate that your alive and then you can continue your speech," you begged and pouted for good measure. That always seemed to do the trick with Steve.

"Alright baby, come here," he sighed in defeat and stretched his arm out for you. With a big smile you crawled into his arms and hugged him tightly.

Then you tipped your head up and kissed Steve gently, trying to pour all of your love into it.

"I love you. I love you so much. I swear my heart stopped when I saw you lying in this bed and your face all busted open," you told him. The soldier held you tighter and tucked your chin under his head.

"I'm sorry. I promise I'll be more careful next time. I love you too. So so much," Steve answered and stroked over my arm.

After some time of silence Steve shifted slightly and then spoke again.

"How about you stay here for a few days and get to know the team? And then we have a talk about what's going to happen from then on. How does that sound?" Your husband suggested.

"That sounds great," you smiled and cuddled into the man.

You knew everything was going to be fine. Steve was perfectly fine, the Avengers didn't hate you and your family was happy.

You were happy and you knew that whatever the future would hold for you, you, your husband and your daughters would stand through it.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Intense Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is 16-17, also ive really never written anything about team iron man so this was weird, someone needs to tell me i dont need every single movie detail in here

prompt: takes place from cacw and smhc

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

after the events in sokovia, you set up the relief fund for displaced sokovians and dealt with physical clean up while the avengers...

well, they had to deal with the press—and the governments of the world

getting to know your new suit AI, JOSHUA

briefly looking for bruce; no luck there

you ended up doing the MIT september foundation presentation with tony

and ending the presentation after pepper’s name popped up on the screen

“it’s probably best we get out of here”

you were his entire support system while he was going through his break with pepper

meeting charles spencer’s mother, who really gave your dad a piece of her mind

“my son died, but your daughter gets to live on. if you lost her, maybe you’d show some sympathy for murdering my child”

*awkward silence from you*

*awkward silence from tony otw to the compound*

HATING the sound of the sokovia accords, yet understanding why they’re being ratified

being torn between signing them or not and having a huge argument with the other avengers

“y/n, why dont you listen to your dad for once and sign the damn thing”

“uncle rhodey, you know why i dont want to sign. if they have us, they have access to our suits. you really think the UN should be telling us how to use them?”

“your defense doesn’t even make sense. i had the war machine or iron patriot or whatever the hell you want to call it, but the military was calling the shots”

“and look where you are now”

“right, well i wouldn’t expect a kid to understand”

“are you kidding me, rhodes? you’re gonna play the ‘im older than you’ card?”

comforting wanda while she feared being taken

and as soon as you heard about what happened in lagos

“think about it, maximoff. if you didnt do what you did, do you know how many more casualties there may have been?”

“but i killed innocents”

“no, rumlow killed innocents. you contained that blast better than anyone else could have and you prevented a whole bunch of deaths, give yourself some credit”

okay, so you weren’t the best at talking someone down while they were upset

staying in berlin with your father while the whole bucky thing began to get sorted out

but he sent you out to stay with nat while he had some “private time” with steve

tony keeping you close to him during the power outage at the base

until it turned out you brought your suit and tony did not!

everyone was looking at you to take down bucky, but it just seemed like a bad idea, you didn’t want to hurt him because you didn’t want to hurt steve

stalling to try and buy steve time to subdue his friend

“y/n, come on, for christ sake!”

“got it, dad! i know what im doing!”

“i dont think you do!”

feeling your stomach drop when bucky shot into your dad’s hand, if it wasn’t for his latest invention, he may have gotten seriously hurt

you had a slight change of heart after that, you couldn’t bare to lose your dad. not after all those close calls...

getting yelled at by secretary ross and the wonderful 36 hour ultimatum you, nat, and tony received

“i have a plan”

“don’t say the spider boy”

“fine, i wont say it”

a nice trip to queens :)

when this parker kid finally got home, tony left you to socialize with his aunt

small talk is sometimes unbearable

“so, what’s it like being tony stark’s daughter?”

“honestly? im always tired”

peter becoming a tagalong on your mission, which you didn’t really think was appropriate

“dad, i dont really think we should’ve brought the kid...”

“why? you’re about the same age as him, its not much different”

“um...no, i meant this isnt his battle. i don’t care how old he is”

face off between tony and cap where you literally just swallowed all your pride and apologized because you couldn’t handle the fact that the team was being ripped apart like this

team ups with Spider-Man

“so, uh, do you hate me or something?”

“hey, kid? we’re kind of in the middle of something, i’ll get back to you on that”

“it’s a yes or no question, y/n”

“pass”

so, things didn’t exactly go as planned...

your (former) teammates were taken to the RAFT and you couldn’t pull it together in front of them

they were pretty pissed at you

“im sorry, im so sorry, i should’ve done better”

they ignored you (up until scott lang)

“all you stark’s are the same”

“stay out of this, bugboy”

taking to the remote hydra base in another famous father/daughter teamup

“just like the old days, right kiddo?”

“i guess so”

“hey, cheer up, it’s not all that bad”

waltzing right in there to meet your friend and foe

seeing the video of your grandparents dying

*being killed

absolutely stunned by seeing such a gruesome thing

even after all you’ve seen, this really got to you

you were robbed of ever meeting them, which made you angry, but you couldn’t stay angry because there were so many things out of everyones control

realizing that this was a good time to hold tony back

“JOSHUA, lock down y/n’s suit. protocol: baby gate”

apparently your dad still had some old protocols in your suit that you hadn’t found yet

“JOSHUA? reboot! override protocol: baby gate”

“i’m sorry, miss y/n, but i cannot do that”

watching your father attempt to get revenge

and get critically injured

simultaneously working on opening the suit back up for a bad plan

finally getting the emergency release and stumbling out of your suit, rushing towards the conflict and throwing yourself in the middle of it

“please, dad. enough damage has been done.”

“y/n, get out of the way”

he saw you shaking and crying and he realized what he was doing

attacking the only family you guys really had

getting shoved out of the way so that they could end this fight once and for all

JOSHUA finally rebooting and bringing the suit over to shield you while you helplessly watched the end of this fight

when bucky and steve left, your suit disarmed and you crouched down beside your father

“come on, let’s just go home”

“im sorry”

“i know, it’s okay”

trying to comfort your dad after his defeat

you picked up cap’s shield and returned to your suit, it was time to go home

after a brief time of recovery (while you helped work on uncle rhodey’s prototype prosthetics), there was a slight change of plans for you

“okay, so for your punishment after what you pulled during my...divorce with cap, you’re going to babysit the spiderling so you gain some perspective”

“hold on, what?! what do you mean ‘perspective?’”

“i mean you dont know what it’s like to be in charge of the life of a teenager, so now you get to find out! congratulations on your promotion!”

it was not fun at all because peter kept blowing up your phone and you kept having to tell him there was nothing for him to do

Y/N: I’ll let you know when there’s a spider-level threat, kapeesh?

P. Parker: Yes, ma’am, sorry.

peter going behind your back to do some “superhero work”

and you having to swoop in to fix everything last second

“come on, you stole my thunder, y/n!”

“no, peter, i saved your life. next time you have a lead, call me first”

and then he didn’t 😌✨💕

“Y/N, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“put him through, JOSHIE...hey dad, how’s dubai?”

“taking care of a kid is harder than it looks, isn’t it?”

“don’t start with me”

damage control ahahah 🤡

“peter, why cant you just call me in? you don’t stop texting me for months but for this you go radio silent? you almost died. and you put a bunch of lives in danger! do you want me to have to go to your aunt and tell her you died?”

“im sorry! i just...i dont want to be a sidekick”

“kid, you’re gonna have a long time to make a name for yourself...but not if you’re dead!”

he started crying and you were very uncomfortable so you tried to hug him? it helped.

letting him off easy (just like your dad did to you growing up)

but apparently tony came back and took the suit anyways and you were pretty pissed about it

avengers moving day :) yes, part of your punishment was helping happy with moving day and hearing him gush about how you were “growing into such a responsible adult”

“happy i dont know if you noticed but ive basically been an adult since i was 12”

“keep telling yourself that, kiddo”

seeing an explosion and immediately knowing it was peter

“i’ll see you later, happy, love you!”

investigating the crash site and whaddaya know, there’s peter and his first bad guy, you were kind of proud

“peter, you okay?”

“nope!”

“okay, cool”

more damage control lmao (a/n: yall sick of damage control yet?)

a congratulatory call from your dad

“hey! you did pretty good, all things considered. why don’t you take the kid to the avengers compound for his special surprise?”

“aye aye, see you soon.”

“love you, kiddo”

“you too, dad”

quick fast forward to peter rejecting the position as an avenger while the press was outside, yes, you were surprised

but then your dad finally proposed to pepper, it was a pretty cool engagement announcement

“y/n, will you be my maid of honor?”

“duh!”

happily ever after (a/n: until the next part is up)

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

TUA DISNEY AUs: Big Hero 6 (Pt. XVIII)

(please understand that by AU, I mean they share an incredibly small amount of things in common with the original source material which I barely remember BUT the “story” takes place in the setting of the film) (not to be misleading or anything :p)

(BEWARE: abuse, murder, corruption, mental health issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms, suicidal ideation, death, grief, violence, basically i took the sad montage after Tadashi dies and just kept going with that except without the whole "getting better" thing, sorry, my bad, enjoy anyway i guess i don't know, bye, etc.)

(If you can handle watching Umbrella Academy, this will be fine for you.)

(Hiro) Vanya hasn’t much of a head for science - not since a gas explosion in her childhood apartment killed her parents and exposed her to radiation, leaving her brittle-boned and sickly. She spends most of her days holed up in her room, reading and writing about every little thing she sees and hears and feels. There’s this cat in the alleyway she feeds sometimes, and her friend Ben who comes by to see how she is every few days. The only time she goes out is for school, or bot fights down in the bad neighborhoods. At those she gets to see Ben, and his partner Klaus and his friend Diego. Oh, and Sissy - the beautiful, shy punk girl who spins the records in the corner store. Vanya lives what she considers a pretty average life - until Ben dies, she screams, and all the windows around her shatter from nothing.

(Tadashi) Ben has been a science nerd for years, spending hours in the libraries and labs researching every little thing that catches his fancy. His partner, Klaus, has no such interest, having more of a head for poetry, but Ben loves him more than life itself - especially since Klaus was the only person who stuck with him when one of his experiments went wrong a few years ago, resulting in tentacles that are prone to ripping out of his chest when he’s angry. And since he loves Klaus so much, he spares not a second thought to running back into a burning building to get him back, even when it means certain death. And Ben knows you can’t bring back the dead - he tried when Klaus’ beloved boyfriend Dave died in a gunfight a few years back. Once you’re gone, you’re gone - or so he thinks until he wakes up and Klaus starts crying and muttering, You’re here, you’re here, you’re here, I did it, I did it, I did it - and Ben reaches out and thinks, Oh, no, sweetheart. You didn’t.

(Honey Lemon) Allison was engaged to Ray before he disappeared, but even after that failed experiment lost her the love of her life, she continued to work for the forward movement of science and kept her vow of love to Ray. Using her research, she managed to create a pill that allowed her to bend reality, hoping to bring back Ray. Though she couldn’t raise the dead - no amount of I heard a rumor Ray was alive again worked - she won herself other advantages with her newfound powers, including sponsors, knowledge, opportunities, and protection. Klaus, Diego, Five, and Ben are her only true friends in this world - and she nearly loses all of them when Ben dies, drowning in their grief. When Luther, one of Five and Ben’s passion projects starts hanging around to monitor their mental health, Allison finds a new kind of love - deep, ever-lasting friendship that she’ll never give up. Even when they have to leave him behind on the moon after they save Ray, she doesn’t let him go - she finally knows how to speak up for what she wants, and speak up she does: I heard a rumor that Luther came back to me.

(Fred (actually a mash-up of Honey Lemon and Hiro though to be honest)) Klaus is a starving artist and poet, and he's covered in tattoos of his own words and drawings. Diego is too, because Diego loves him, and Klaus wants to love him back and probably does already, if he’s really honest with himself, but he’s not ready yet. Dave happened too soon ago. And then there was a fire, and Klaus was running around outside, looking for Ben, looking for the platonic love and light of his life, and he saw him run inside screaming Klaus’ name and never come back out. And he lives with that guilt every day, smoking and drinking all the bad shit again in an effort to just forget, forget, anything goddamn anything to forget, and he goes crazy. People forget, because he’s not a student at their nerd school and because he acts like a dumbass, that Klaus is actually just as much a genius as the rest of them, and whatever he wants, he can get without much trouble. So what if he can’t bring back the dead? He won’t live without Ben, he won’t, and he won’t leave Diego - which leaves only one option, really: find a way to make himself see ghosts.

(Wasabi) Diego lives a charmed life. Truly. He’s almost been assassinated fifteen fucking billion times, his two best friends are robots, and he’s in love with a person too sad to love him back. See, Diego’s skills brought him to the military’s special attention - he found a way to make weaponry that doesn’t obey the laws of physics. He keeps it as secret as he can, and will sell it to nobody, but millions of people are still after it. It’s not until one of the assassins almost nails Klaus with a bullet and Diego kills her with a store-bought kitchen knife without moving that he realizes the weaponry he created isn’t special, but Diego is. From then on it’s nothing but trouble - because Klaus likes to dumb himself down, but he can’t fool Diego, and so when he starts screaming at empty air and calling it Ben, Diego isn’t surprised in the least, though maybe he should be. Instead he just sighs, opens his arms, and lets a sobbing Klaus fall into him, loving him more than he did yesterday and less than he will tomorrow. Diego has his home, and he has his people, and he has his powers - and he will defend them to the fucking death.

(Gogo) Five is bitter and grumpy, living off coffee and perpetually crazy. He’s brilliant enough to have done surgery on himself, implanting an AI pacemaker in his heart named Dolores from an accident that nearly stripped him of everything, his life included. He was born with special powers, both of which fuelled his fascination with science, but he keeps that secret close to his chest - he’s seen what people do to Diego and Allison, and he has no interest in that. He’s close with the others, somewhat, though his impassable genius makes it difficult for people to understand him - Diego gives him piggy back rides and he often falls asleep curled into Klaus’ side, and Allison gives him rides home and Ben builds robots with him. But as hard as he finds it to connect with them, it’s even harder to lose them - so when he realizes he can use his time travel powers to save Ben, he doesn’t hesitate. And then he’s dying in Klaus’ arms, and he’s watching as his favorite person in the world chooses to lose the love of his life all over again to save Five, and something deep inside him changes.

(Baymax) Luther is a medical robot, built by Five and Ben in their spare time. There are some videos in him, mostly of Ben talking to Klaus because Luther was meant to be a gift for Klaus to help him with his depression, anxiety, PTSD, anorexia, and addiction, etc.. Five adds grief counseling to his programming and gives him to Klaus on his first birthday after Ben’s death, making Klaus dissolve into tears. While Luther clashes with Diego, who hates him for surviving where Lila didn’t, they get along well enough to appease Klaus, because Luther knows Klaus loves Diego and Diego knows Luther helps Klaus. When they travel to the moon to get Ray, Luther winds up stuck there, unable to get the others home if he doesn’t stay behind. Klaus and Allison both have trouble letting him go, but Klaus forces Allison to come home with him, crying as he leaves Ben for the third and final time. When Allison brings Luther back, his videos still intact, Klaus touches Ben’s face on his chest and cries, cries, cries.

Lila is a malfunctioning masterpiece, and Diego’s best friend. He made her as a help robot, but she’s a prototype, and was rejected for her proneness to violent outbursts and catatonic episodes. She’s easy to manipulate, as Diego never bothered to fix her security protocols, but it’s not like there’s anyone else who talks to her - except Five, and he’d never touch her programming without Diego’s explicit permission. She sleeps at Diego’s house, in her charging station next to Eudora’s. Lila knows robots can’t feel love, so that isn’t what she’s feeling - but her wires are tied to Eudora’s in some way, she just knows it. They’re two halves of the same code. But she never gets to explore that link - she burns away to nothing in the fire that destroys the Handler’s minions, using the last of her strength to save Five from the flames. She hopes, when Diego finds his baby brother curled in her charred corpse, that he’ll bury her in the rain, and keep on living without her well enough.

Eudora is a suicide-prevention robot. Seriously. That’s all she’s here for. Ben and Diego built her together for Klaus specifically, programming her with some of his favorite jokes and references so she’d have an easier time talking him down from the edge when one of them can’t be there. She’s programmed to instantly call Ben, Diego, Five, or Allison immediately if she finds him doing dangerous things, like playing with Diego’s knives naked. (It happened one time. Seriously. True story.) She’s calm and gentle, unruffled and kind, and Diego often spends hours talking to her, because she may be programmed for Klaus but she can still help anyone who needs it. He nearly looses her to Cha-Cha, but Klaus saves her just in time, beating Cha-Cha to a steaming hunk of scrap metal with a baseball bat for trying to hurt his best (robot) friend. She’s not saddened by Lila’s death, per say, she can’t be… but when she’s downloading databases on panic and anxiety attacks for Diego and Klaus, she makes sure to save some on insomnia for herself, too.

Sissy is a botfighter, one who dresses in a black and magenta punk aesthetic to fend off strangers, too shy for the world. She messes around with Vanya, the two of them often dancing in the rain and finding joy in the small moments, but happily ever after was never in the cards for them. Sissy lives with her abusive boyfriend Carl and has their son to take care of, an accident from too many beers - when Carl murders her in a drunken rage, it’s less of a surprise and more of a solemn inevitably. Her son, Harlan, is placed in Vanya’s care, and Vanya travels the world with him, telling him everything about his mother she knows. It’s a bittersweet ending, but a hopeful one too.

Ray was a student at the nerd school before he became a therapist, using his incredible mind-healing technology to help people all over the world. Allison fell in love with him quickly, easily, and the two were engaged before the year was up, planning for a spring wedding in which Klaus would, obviously, be the flower girl. But when he was offered the chance to go to space as a therapist for the other nine people on the mission, he jumped at the chance, bidding Allison goodbye and heading to the moon. But something went wrong and he was lost to the world, along with the other nine astronauts, all of whom died when the ship crash-landed. Ray has been in a coma for years there, having been knocked out in the explosion, and remains that way until Luther brings him home, Allison having come for him at last. (When he’s well enough to, he takes care of Five, Klaus, and Diego, whose mental states have been steadily declining for years. Their robots are brilliant, of course, but there are some things you just need a human for.)

Reginald is the dean of the nerd school and also an asshole. He has a habit of killing students when they get in his way, or to steal their inventions as his own - and he gets away with it too, because he’s at the forefront of memory technology and quite literally erases these people from existence so nobody comes asking questions. Plus he’s got connections in the government that destory any records he needs destroyed. He had a couple of kids he wanted to get rid of the night of the showcase, and started the fire to make it seem like an accident - well, Ben actually was an accident, he wasn’t on Reginald’s hitlist, not yet, but whatever. It is what it is. What Reginald doesn’t anticipate is Klaus - because nobody ever anticipates Klaus - and so he thinks nothing of it when he confesses to Ben’s murder in his monologue in front of all his former students. He can just erase their memories later. Or so he thinks, until Klaus lets out a savage war cry and lunges forward to strangle him, killing him in cold blood without a second thought, and so is the end of Reginald Hargreeves. (Five takes the fall for his murder - not that it matters. Diego and Klaus break him out and the three of them disappear, never to be seen again - at least, not until Allison’s done manipulating every single person in the world into forgetting it ever happened on live TV.)

The Handler is Reginald’s finest invention: a flawless AI in a perfect human body. Problem is, she became bored of being his servant years ago and took over his life, blackmailing him into doing whatever she wants. Most of the killings are still his idea, and Ben certainly wasn’t her fault, but it’s the Handler who wants Five dead, and it’s the Handler who sends her reject minions after him. She wants Eudora dead and she wants Klaus deader, but she gets neither - Five finds her and hacks her into little tiny pieces, putting all of them in a fire and then shoving those ashes into an Iron Maiden, dropping the Handler to an inescapable grave. Fuck her “life”.

Hazel is a teddy bear with a security camera in his stomach. He sits on Agnes’ counter in her donut shop, just watching the goings-on even though nobody ever steals anything there. Mostly he’s held in the lap of Five, who comes into Agnes’ whenever he doesn’t want his friends to see him cry - over a failed invention, Klaus’ most recent suicide attempt, Lila’s death - whatever, you name it. Agnes takes care of him, making him milkshakes when he asks for coffee, and eventually sends Hazel home with him, asking him to take care of Five for her. He doesn’t know it’ll be the last time he ever sees her - two weeks later Agnes is killed by Reginald and her donut shop is ransacked by looters. Her memory lives on in Hazel and Five, who rebuilds and reopens the shop with Klaus and Diego and Allison after a couple years, renaming it for Ben and living on despite his grief, and Hazel sits on the counter again, watching the sunset through the glowing windows.

Cha-Cha was supposed to be one of those “oh-hey-we’re-not-racist-anymore-we-make-black-dolls-too-see?” Barbies. She ended up with a rather experimental kid who enjoyed robotics and horror films, resulting in Cha-Cha: an AI in a Barbie with chainsaw arms. She kidnaps Klaus under the Handler’s orders, as he’s a connection to Five (who the Handler wants to kill) and Ben (who’s the only connection to Reginald and the Handler’s murders). This backfires spectacularly, of course, when Eudora and Diego come for him: Cha-Cha goes for Eudora’s throat and Klaus breaks himself free of his binds and beats her to smithereens with a baseball bat.

Leonard used to hang around Vanya, just generally assaulting her and being a creep, until suddenly he disappeared one rainy Monday never to be seen again. His body was found rotting in a lake a couple years later. It was revealed later on that he had decided to and succeeded in making real-life replicas of the Five Nights at Freddie’s characters, and they hadn’t been too fond of him trying to boss them around. The Handler recruited the replicas later on for her own schemes, and they followed Reginald rather well, their appetite for people satisfied well enough. But Leonard remains the school legend, and a striking reminder to be careful what monsters you let live.

Grace is the queen of the Land of the Remembered, and you may be wondering what she’s doing in this story. Well, to put it simply - Reginald’s little games have been messing with her shit. There are perfectly kind and memorable people who have come down to her only to be erased in the Land of the Living within the week, leaving her no choice but to take them in as refugees, working out a deal with the Land of the Forgotten since they weren’t given a fair shot at their deserved afterlife. She takes care of Ben when he dies for the second and final time, appearing to assure Klaus he’ll be alright when he crosses over. This is when Diego finally learns the truth about his mom, who has always been home in time to make dinner and never missed a single milestone, and who is apparently also an all-powerful goddess. She gives him a hug and tells him his boyfriend is cute (He’s not my boyfriend.) (You’re holding hands, darling. You may be an oblivious idiot, but I’m not.) and then she heads off, though she’s always back with Ben for the holidays. (Not Lila, unfortunately. She has no jurisdiction over robots.)

And Hiro is ace-aro and he and Miguel are QPPs, and Honey Lemon and Wasabi are QPPs, and Fred and Wasabi are dating, and Gogo is an bisexual aro queen with a girl she likes to kiss in the back alleyways, and Hiro has two sisters named Violet and Boo and Tip is his ace-aro lab partner. You’re welcome.

[starlight-thoughts-ao3]

Handle With Care

Summary: For a moment, he considered walking back out of the room, give her the privacy she clearly desired, but she wasn't stopping, so he kept watching. She kept dancing to the delicate music and he sank to the floor in front of her, his legs crossed over themselves, a captive audience. Her lips quirked up into a smile, and as the song came to an end, she bowed in his direction.

TW: Nothing, so far as I’m aware. Let me know if you disagree.

Notes: This is part me being poetic and pretentious and part me being unable to get the image of Natasha dancing for Tony out of my head. I just, their relationship in the MCU is one I find fascinating. The "I should not care about you, but I can't help it" on both ends of that is something I can't help but play around with, and I've been toying with this fic for months and I'm not entirely happy with it, but I have it written so here. Cross-posted on AO3.

Human beings like to tell themselves such pretty lies. Things will get better. Everything happens for a reason. Love always wins. We tell ourselves stories where the good guys win and the bad guys get put away behind bars because we can't cope with the concept that sometimes, life just doesn't care. Tony Stark was born into a world that would always know his name, though not for the reasons he'd wish they would. Such careful manipulation of the facts made sure that no one would ever think that the man who was known as the Merchant of Death was so full of life and energy he was drowning in it. He poured all his passion into things he'd never publicize but they were his children; they were made of metal and code, but they were real and he loved them enough to hide them away from prying eyes. Act like you don't care about anything or anyone long enough and eventually, people stop caring about you.

Tony Stark was born a disappointment, and he learned early on that he'd be allowed more freedom if he didn't even try to change their minds. So he wore a mask made of recklessness and failure and watched as the world forgot that he was brilliant. The problem with masks is that some people will see them and decide it's far more interesting to see what they're hiding.

James Rhodes watched as the boy who was way too young to be sitting in the college lab twisted lines of code into a simple, but charming, personality like it was magic, then build it a body, sketching designs for the robotic arm over the blueprints his father wanted him to look over, just to see if his son had a mind for weapons as he did. James watched as Tony fixed all the issues his father's designs had, then go back to creating life like it was nothing special. James watched as his best friend was told his parents were dead and he watched as Tony shut himself off from the world and created JARVIS. It would occur to him later that AI was the first bit of armor Tony built.

Virginia Potts was the most terrifyingly competent person Tony had ever had the pleasure of being yelled at by. He had stumbled into her -- literally -- one night while leaving the R&D offices and she had given him hell for it, all while towering over him in her high heels, not a hair out of place. Her fury mixed with her composure startled a genuine laugh out of him. He promoted her on the spot. He liked the way she treated him as human, instead of a toy or a trophy. Things were easier with her at his side. The world didn't seem as overwhelming when she was there to take care of the practical things. She didn't judge him for having his head in the clouds, she just tied a string around his wrist and guided him like a balloon while she stayed firmly on the ground. It had taken him much too long to realize that there wasn't enough money in the world to keep someone with him, so her continued presence in his life had to be because she genuinely cared, and that was when he gave her the codes to his personal lab. He found her, his Pepper, asleep on the couch more than once, hair loose, feet curled up under a blanket she had brought down because she liked to watch him work.

One kidnapping and betrayal later, Tony began to distrust everything and anyone connected to his father. The only ones who actually seemed to care about him were the ones he chose himself.

Steve Rogers was everything everyone had wanted Tony to be and having all that rush back into his head out of nowhere put him on the defensive. He knew Pepper would tell him that none of that was Steve's fault and could he please get his head out of his head now? But he couldn't. This was the man that his father had idolized and searched for until the day he died. This was the man that Howard had poured all his time and energy into instead of his son, and while Tony knew, and he did know, that Rogers had no part of that, Tony was tired of the past coming to haunt him. Realistically, anyone his father had liked was bad news for him and there was no one, save Aunt Peggy, that Howard Stark liked more than Steve Rogers.

They clashed and shattered against each other, the whole world watching as Tony Stark and Steve Rogers fell into synchronization, the pieces of shared history falling to the wayside in the light of victory.

Natasha was difficult for Tony to process. She was the only person he'd ever met who wore as many masks as he did, and he tried desperately to not think about the fact that she was so deadly because of it. People underestimated her, didn't see how clever her eyes were, didn't see how she'd change everything about herself to fit the image they wanted to see. He saw how it wore her down. He could relate, and she knew it. It was strange, the art of being seen as what other people wanted shared between a man who was always in the spotlight and a woman who learned to blend into the background.

He liked to watch her dance. It wasn't that it made him forget that she was lethal -- quite the opposite, actually -- but more that she looked more human while she did. It was almost like whatever it was that allowed her to drift seamlessly between personalities melted away and left just a woman who loved to dance behind. She was talented and beautiful because of course, she was, but it was how carefree and unguarded she was as she twirled around that caught -- and held -- his attention. The funny thing is, he almost didn't have this, he almost let it slip through his fingers. The shooting range was originally going to be both Clint and Natasha's "welcome to the dysfunctional family" present, but the archer had a different idea.

"You want her happy, Stark, you give her a place to dance," Clint had said in such a no-nonsense tone that he almost thought that he was playing a prank on him, and if he followed through, she'd kill him without mercy. But the glint in Clint's eyes told him to take a chance, and so he lined one wall of the gym with mirrors and had a barre installed, much to the confusion of the builders. When he took all of them around the tower, the way her fingers trailed along the metal was reverent. She and Clint shared a look, he nodded, and suddenly Tony's arms were full of a redhead who could kill in an instant if she wanted.

"Thank you," she whispered into his ear. He's still not sure what platitudes he said, but a second later, she was across the room, no hint of the raw emotion she had just displayed on her face. And that was that.

He hadn't expected to ever see her actually use the space he had carved out for her, as it was well known that she was in the gym late at night when the more sensible members of their team had long since gone to sleep or pretended to. But he was no stranger to aimless insomnia, and had wandered into the gym one night, just walking around, and had been startled out of daydreams by slow music, and it would have been ethereal if not for the haunting melody. The sound of her feet hitting the floor came after and his eyes drifted to her. It was in that moment he had reconsidered the meaning of the word "revealing". He had certainly seen more of her skin than the leotard was showing, but he had never seen more of her. He looked so much like his father that they tended to forget that he was Maria's son as well. He'd been to enough ballet performances to know that while her movements weren't the most technically accurate, that was only because she didn't want them to be. He also knew she was aware of his presence. For a moment, he considered walking back out of the room, give her the privacy she clearly desired, but she wasn't stopping, so he kept watching. She kept dancing to the delicate music and he sank to the floor in front of her, his legs crossed over themselves, a captive audience. Her lips quirked up into a smile, and as the song came to an end, she bowed in his direction.

"You could do that professionally, you know. Drop the whole spy thing and just do that," he told her as she offered him her hand. She shook her head.

"No, I couldn't," she said. He looked her up and down, and smiled sadly.

"No, you couldn't," he agreed, "but you should dance for us, sometimes. Pretty sure that little number you just did would scandalize our dear captain." He wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed and laughed. Tony pulled her into him and began a simple waltz in the silence. She fell into step so effortlessly that it almost startled him, but only almost.

"Maybe I'll dance for everyone one day. We'll see. It's not personal, it's just," she sighed, unsure how to finish the sentence.

"It's just too personal," he suggested. She nodded. His hands on her body felt warm and distracting in a way she was not accustomed to. They were not wandering; they stayed exactly where they were supposed to be for the dance, and while his embrace was steady, it was not strict. She could walk away from this moment, and he would let her.

"I don't know how to let people in, Tony. I don't know how to be a person, not really." Her steps never faltered, but her voice wobbled, just a bit.

"One person at a time, one little truth at a time," he said, switching the dance from a formal ballroom to a playful mishmash of whatever he wanted. She grinned and teased him with chaos of her own. She twirled away from him, and as just as he pulled her back to him, he whispered into her ear, "and sometimes, Miss Rushman, you don't let them in at all. They come barging in anyway and you hope and pray they don't break your heart."

[higherfurther-romanova]

Then Finish It. (Pt. 3)

Warnings: Heavy angst, language, possible smut, death, injuries, arguments, possible dark themes. 

Word Count: 1,483

A/N: I’m so sorry. (This is not the end btw more pain to come. I’m your official pain dealer.) I’m not sure how well this turned out buuuut have fun. :) 

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 |  Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | Finale |

~~~~~~~~~~~⧗~~~~~~~~~~~

“What…?” She asks, her voice getting caught in her throat. 

You don’t say anything and stare straight forward until she realizes what she said. 

"Shit, no… (y/n), that's not what I meant. At all." She shook her head, wishing she could take back her words. 

"Don't lie to me, Natalia." You scoff. 

"I'm not lying to you. Of course, I love you, you're my best friend." 

"And that's all you feel towards me?" You stand up and look at her. "You're a terrible liar." You open the door you were just leaning against and walk out. 

"Give her time. Her mind is scrambled right now." Wanda smiles politely at Nat. 

"That isn't her… those are not her words. I knew they broke her down, but I didn't know it was that bad." She stands up and looks down. 

Carol sighs and walks out the way she saw you leave. The days where Natasha couldn't be in your room due to missions Carol and Wanda would spend talking to you. You'd gotten close to both of them and you're thankful for it. You were closer with Carol between the both of them because Carol was the one who spared your life after you escaped the red room. The second Carol heard about the events in the helicarrier, she rushed back to Earth. There's always been this unmentioned bond between you two, I mean, she saved your life. 

~~~~~~~~~~~⧗~~~~~~~~~~~

You walk into your office at SHIELD and lock the door, it's the only place you could truly be alone. You close your laptop when you hear a light knock on your door. Yeah, nevermind on you being able to have alone time. 

"Whaaat?" You groan. 

"It's Carol. Unlock the door?" She asks. 

"I'm a bit busy, Cap." You lie. 

"Doing what? It's dark outside." 

"I'm just looking some things up. What do you need?" You sigh. 

She blasts the door down. "I need you to quit lying to yourself." 

"...Fury is going to be pissed." You stare at what's left of the door. 

"Did you hear me?" 

"Lying to myself?" You scoff. 

"So you did hear me." She sits down and crosses her arms. 

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" You shake your head. 

"I've heard things." She smirks. 

"Look… I need you to pull yourself together and push them away." She's referring to the red room… of course, she is. 

"A bit late for that, isn't it, Danvers?" You grumble, walking over to stare out of your window. 

"(Y/N)... please. Please let us help you. We love you. The whole team does. They're worried." She softens, standing up and walking towards you. 

"Love is for children." You whisper loud enough for her to hear. 

"That isn't you. Those are their words." She puts a hand on your shoulder. 

You flinch at the gesture. 

"(Y/N/N)..." 

"You don't know me." You mumble. 

She turns your body towards her. "But I do." 

You tear your eyes away from the skyline and look at her. She sees the tears welling up in your eyes and pulls you closer and you rest your head on her shoulder. 

"It's okay." She whispers. 

You shake your head no. She doesn't say anything, she just wraps her arms around you tighter and lets you cry on her shoulder. Sometime within the time, she moved you to the couch for more comfort. She gently brushes her fingers through your hair as you slowly break. You're afraid that if you break any further, you'll shatter into nothingness. Even after all of your years of training, you can't manage to control these emotions. 

"You know she loves you. And you love her…" Carol snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Please don't. Please..." Your voice cracks in the middle of it.  

“Okay.” She says simply and pulls you in closer. 

You stay there for a good two hours. Until you can put on your emotionless act again. You head back to the compound and fall asleep quickly. You’re awoken by a small knock on the door connecting your and Natasha’s rooms. You groan and turn onto your side, hoping to go back to sleep. Just as you’re about to fall asleep again, you hear the door open. 

“Hey- oh shit, were you sleeping?” She asks. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter, what is it?” You yawn. 

“I was just coming to check on you.” She smiles softly. 

She’s not going to fucking give up on you, is she? 

You nod, half asleep. “Thank you.” 

A bright blush colours her cheeks as she nods and walks back into her room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~⧗~~~~~~~~~~~

You fell asleep for an hour and woke up drenched in sweat. You saw him. James. You saw him jumping from building to building killing people below. You saw them torturing him. His screams of agony. You try to shake the image out of your head but can’t, so you quickly throw your mission suit on and grab your weapons. 

“Jarvis, please tell everyone that I’ve gone to see a friend if they ask..” You whisper quietly to the AI. 

“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N).” The AI responds. 

You sneak out quietly before the sun rises and take off on your motorcycle. You park in an alleyway and pull your laptop out of your saddlebag, pulling up the files you have on HYDRA. Bucky couldn’t and wouldn’t have gone far by now, people expect him to run across the world so he would do the exact opposite. You read more carefully and realize there are hints in the text which give you an idea of where he may be. You put your laptop back and drive off to the location. 

You pull up to this abandoned factory. Before you can even turn your engine off, he’s standing infront of you. You quickly swing your bike at him, knocking him down. Using him being down to your advantage, you throw a grappling hook up to the roof, taking the high ground. He’s not far behind you, but you’re prepared for him. He comes at you, swinging at an unsteady pace. He pulls out a knife and is about to stab you in the neck when you put your arm up infront of his. “James.. Please.” You grunt. 

He growls and pushes harder. You push the knife point away from your neck, but he manages to run the blade down diagonally across your eye. You hiss at the pain, putting him in a choke hold that he escapes immediately. He pulls you so your back is against his chest and the knife is pointed to your neck. 

“Come home, soldier…” You choke back a sob. 

You feel his grip soften, he steps away. You see something in his eyes soften. His grip on the knife loosens and he drops it. He looks at you with a terrified look. 

“(Y/N)?” 

You nod, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

“What did I do…” He asks. 

You shake your head and hug him tightly. 

“I’m scared…” He whispers. 

“It’s okay. I’m here. I’m taking you back to Steve. He misses you.” You chuckle. 

He smiles softly but it soon fades when he hears HYDRA agents down below. 

“Fuck.” You curse under your breath. 

One of them sees Bucky and points him out to the rest of them. They start climbing up to you guys, you shoot a few down, but one quickly runs straight at you, knocking your gun out of hand. You easily knock him down, but you’re swarmed by a group of five. You slowly but surely take them down, knocking the gun out of the agent’s hand before he could shoot Bucky. They all turn to you. All seven of what’s left up there. They charge at you, guns pointed at your head, knives ready to pierce through your skin. Bucky picks up one of the dead agent’s guns and shoots a few of them in the back of the head. You’re standing on the edge of the building with the soldiers slowly stalking up onto you. All it takes is for the agent infront of you to kick you. Before you know it, you’re falling, but he’s shot down and a metal arm reaches out and grabs your wrist. You hear footsteps running at Bucky above you, panic washes over his face. 

“It’s okay, James. Let me go.” You look down at the ground, the drop is huge. 

“No. I can do this… Just hold on.” He grunts. 

“They’ll kill you. You can’t work without both hands, James.” You reason with him. 

He shakes his head. You nod. “Find Steven and Natalia.” 

“No.” He growls. 

“It’s okay.” You whisper. The cold metal releases you when an agent comes up behind him and tries to stab him. Everything goes black. The last thing you see is Nat’s smile in the back of your imagination.

[sunlightdances]

Public Relations (Bucky x Reader Oneshot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Prompt: “I’m a woman with a brain and reasonable ability” Author’s Note: Written for @captain-kelli​’s 500 Fam Writing Challenge! Congrats, Kelli, and thank you for hosting! Takes place post-Endgame, but with some adjustments to canon (Tony and Nat are alive, Steve stayed). This has a lot more dialogue than I initially planned! Hope it’s not too choppy. My love of commas is also evident in this piece. *shrug emoji* Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky, Marvel, or any other related characters or events. The other details of the plot are mine, including the characterization of the “reader”. Please don’t post my work on any other sites without my permission! If you liked what you read, please consider reblogging to help my work be seen. I would love you forever!

Let’s clear one thing up straight away: Bucky Barnes is not an asshole. He has a chip on his shoulder, sure, and it’s also true that he can be grumpy from time to time.

But can you blame him, really?

His life after age 26 has been one giant shit show that he’s just starting to get back on track, so he thinks the world at large could forgive him if he’s not super nice to the reporter hanging around outside the coffee shop or if his resting face sometimes looks like he wants to punch someone.

Still - he’s working on it. Trying to appear a little softer around the edges, trying to remember how to be the person he once was, not because he thinks it’s healthy to try to go back to that time, but because that’s the last time he actually remembers liking himself.

But, again, he’s not an asshole. Or, he tries really hard not to be. A fact he has to keep reminding his friends of (and he uses that word loosely, sometimes), especially when you’re around.

Everything just comes out of his mouth wrong when you’re there.

Probably because you’re around all the time, and you’re smart, and funny, and pretty, and-- nope. He’s not going there. Because reminding himself all the reasons why he likes you just makes him feel more guilty about the way he acts around you. He’s just too chickenshit to admit that he likes you, and ends up being a dick.

As soon as he walks into the Tower, you’re there.

After Thanos, the Avengers returned to New York City. There’s not much left of the Compound upstate to live in right now until the rebuild is done, and he’d been thinking about Brooklyn anyway. Manhattan is different, but he feels better in the city. He thinks the rest of the team likes it here too - it reminds them of the old days, or whatever.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you greet him coolly, matching his stride as he heads towards the elevator. “There’s a meeting in fifteen minutes in the main conference room.”

Bucky makes a noise of acknowledgement, stepping into the elevator and hitting the button for the tenth floor. “Do I have a choice to attend?”

“No you do not.”

“Great.”

He thinks you’re trying not to smile. He grinds his teeth.

“Good afternoon, Sergeant Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice comes through the overhead speaker. “Captain Rogers requests that you, and I quote, don’t even think about it.”

You snort, and Bucky rolls his eyes. “Punk,” he whispers. “Thanks, FRIDAY. Tell Captain Rogers I said, and I quote, to shove it--”

“Thanks, FRIDAY,” you interrupt, “Thank you so much.”

The few remaining minutes in the elevator are in silence, and you push your way out of the elevator before he can even take a step when it stops. Bucky follows you reluctantly to the conference room where some of the rest of the team is waiting.

Nat looks barely awake (she has trouble sleeping after literally coming back from the dead when Steve returned the stones, what a shocker), Sam is spinning in his chair, and Steve is patiently listening to Peter prattle on about some project he’s working on for biology.

“We’re just waiting on Tony, Bruce, and Scott,” you say, heading towards the head of the table. “Wanda is on a mission with Clint, and Thor is off world. No word from Carol in a few days, either.”

Steve waves you off. “Don’t worry about it. We can fill them in later.”

Bucky’s brow furrows. “Wait, this is your meeting?” He asks you. “What was the point of the AI-assisted lecture from you--” he pointedly glares at Steve.

“Because I knew you’d try to get out of it, so I asked for some help.” You smile sweetly at him.

The rest of the team files in over the next few minutes, and Bucky watches as you shuffle through a few papers before turning on the overhead projector. He has to admit, while he absolutely despises public relations, he has a lot of respect for what you do.

He knows it’s not easy wrangling Tony’s ambitions plus whatever manic situations the team get themselves in on a daily basis. Trying to do press for the Avengers is probably akin to wrangling cats, he supposes.

“So,” you clap your hands together, “the event at Children’s Hospital is in two weeks. Can we please, please avoid any earth-threatening situations that might take precedence over this? We missed it the last few years, obviously, so we need to get out there and make some kids happy.”

A murmured agreement goes throughout the room, and Bucky tips back in his chair, counting down the minutes until he can go literally anywhere else. It’s not you, really. It’s the idea of public appearances. He hates them. People still think of him based on who he was, not who he is now. Despite the fact that Steve and the rest of the team have publicly vouched for him and are working on clearing his name, he sees how people look at him.

You’re tied to that feeling, even though he knows that isn’t fair. He has a hard time separating you from your job.

“The next thing -- and I don’t want to hear about it --” You look around, eyes landing on him meaningfully, “-- there’s a magazine feature for the anniversary of the Battle of New York.”

“Well, that’s me off the hook,” Bucky says flippantly, grinning smugly at Sam, who high fives him.

“No, it absolutely doesn’t,” you argue.

“I wasn’t there, in case you forgot.”

You glare. “Thank you for the reminder.”

“Guys--” Steve tries to interrupt.

“You have to participate, because this article is about the team and how it’s grown since the inception of the Avengers.” You say, almost sounding bored. Probably because you and Bucky have this argument at least once a week.

“Bucky, it’s an hour.” Steve says gently, trying to barter.

“Whatever.” Bucky grumbles, “You know what they’re going to ask,” he says, suddenly angry. “Where was the elusive Winter Soldier during the Battle of New York? Do I remember it happening, or was I in the middle of being frozen or wiped for the thousandth time?”

You shift your weight, looking down at the floor. He feels guilty for a half second. “I won’t let them ask.”

His heart thuds weirdly in his chest at how earnest you sound, but he just can’t help himself, apparently. “Because you’re so sure they’re going to listen to you.”

Hurt flashes across your face so quickly he thinks he’s imagined it, but he knows he hasn’t. Again - he’s not usually an asshole. He still hates himself for it, though.

“Alright, we’re done here.” You say quietly, gathering your paperwork. “I’ll email you all the details.”

Sam elbows him, and across the table, Steve is giving Bucky a look that he’s come to associate with a lecture.

He sighs and rolls his eyes before getting up and heading out of the room, his friends at his heels.

“Wow, a five minute meeting,” Sam is saying, sarcastically. “Gotta be a new record, don’t you think, Rogers?”

Bucky’s new plan is to ignore Sam at all costs. It’s not a plan he thinks is going to work out in his favor, but it’s what he’s sticking with.

“You can’t ignore me forever.”

“Are you a mind reader?” Bucky asks, hitting the button in the elevator for the residential floors.

“It’s two events, Buck.” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can handle it.”

“Yeah? Why don’t I let you field the questions I normally get, and we’ll see how you like it.”

“I’m not doubting you. I just don’t understand why you always have to take it out on her.” Steve’s voice is so disappointed, Bucky almost wants to laugh. When his best friend turned into such a mother hen, he’ll never know.

“Don’t be late!” Sam calls as Bucky gets off on his floor, leaving the other men in the elevator.

Flipping him off over his shoulder, he hears Sam’s chuckle and Steve’s sigh before the doors close, and finally he’s alone with his thoughts.

.

.

.

Turns out the interview happens before the hospital visit.

Bucky is in an uncomfortable chair, a reporter across from him, and you behind the reporter, fidgeting slightly. He feels almost relieved that you seem to be as nervous as he is.

“Mr. Barnes,” the reporter begins, a smile Bucky already hates on his face.

“It’s Sergeant.” You say quietly from behind him, and Bucky meets your eyes briefly, seeing the resolve there.

“Of course.” The reporter says smoothly, offering another smile to Bucky. “Sergeant Barnes, you weren’t in New York for the Chitauri invasion, were you.”

“No.”

If the reporter thought he’d elaborate, he doesn’t let on. Bucky saw these questions coming a mile away, and isn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of saying something he’ll regret. Well, he won’t regret it. But it’ll be a pain in the ass for everyone if he can’t keep his cool.

“This was the first official Avengers event. Do you remember hearing about it?”

Bucky wants to laugh. “Do I remember-- no. I don’t think I was awake for much of 2012.” You fidget again, shifting your weight, and Bucky sighs, grinding his teeth. “I’ve been fully briefed on the invasion and know that what the Avengers did that day saved the world.”

The reporter looks at him for a long moment before shifting the papers on his lap around a bit. “The Avengers have changed a lot in all those years since that first mission. Can you tell me a bit more about your role with the team?”

Bucky relaxes a bit. This is the part he prepped for, the part he could recite in his sleep if he had to. Whatever instinct he had back in the day that allowed him to lead a unit and report to his CO is still there, especially for questions like this. “I work mainly with Captain Rogers and Sam Wilson to coordinate missions and do strategic planning. Recon and research are my main areas of focus, but I go on missions too if needed as backup, or if it’s an all hands on deck situation.”

“So you’re not handling any weapons?”

Bucky blinks. Over the reporter’s shoulder, you frown.

“All Avengers team members undergo weapons training.”

“During the War, you were a sniper with the 107th, correct?”

“Yes.”

“So you’d say that you’re pretty proficient with a gun?”

Your eyes are flashing now. “I’m sorry - none of this was on the list of pre-approved questions.” You interrupt, and the reporter holds up a hand to stop you, causing you to make an affronted face.

Bucky would laugh if he wasn’t feeling so sick at this turn of questioning. Every time. No matter who they vet, no matter how many times reporters insist they aren’t trying to catch him in a question he can’t or doesn’t want to answer… this is why he hates interviews.

“I’m just saying -- you’re one of the world’s most accomplished assassins. I guess I wanted to know why you’re doing research and recon when you could be on the front lines with the team? Are they worried you’ll have a setback?”

Bucky barks out a laugh.

You start, taking a few steps forward. “That’s enough. We’re done here.”

Bucky’s already standing, pulling out the chair from behind him as you come around to follow him out, until the reporter stops you, a hand firm on your elbow. You freeze, and Bucky’s eyes narrow on the point of contact, an unfamiliar feeling surging through him.

“Do you know who I work for?” The reporter hisses. “You told me I’d have a half hour.”

“That was before I knew you were going to ask questions that have nothing to do with your article.” You reply, face darkening when he still hasn’t let go.

Bucky waits, waits for one more sign that you’re uncomfortable before he steps in.

“If you ever want to get another high profile piece done on your team you’ll let me finish here.” He threatens, hand tightening.

You sigh, almost looking bored, and in one swift move, you’ve shifted enough of your weight to turn, pulled the elbow he was holding out of his grasp, and driven it into his ribs, simultaneously kneeing him in the groin.

Bucky’s eyebrows raise, and you look at him, rolling your eyes. “What?”

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” he says, letting a smile slip out so you know he’s kidding.

The reporter is doubled over, still making threats, but neither of you pay him much attention as you walk out the double doors of the conference room in the unfamiliar magazine office, heading towards the lobby.

In the car that’s waiting for you outside, Bucky watches you carefully as you roll your shoulders a bit, clearly smarting from the move you pulled back there.

“If I would have known you could do that, I would have been a little nicer,” he teases, but there’s an undercurrent of truth to his words. Not that he thought he’d ever piss you off enough for you to hurt him, but that he wishes he was nicer to you in general.

You glance at him, face neutral. “It wasn’t that hard. Everyone who works for the Avengers goes through basic self defense training, and I’m a woman with a brain and reasonable ability.”

Bucky nods. “Still. Thank you, by the way, for putting an end to that.”

You sigh, sitting back in your seat, all the fight leaving you. “It’s nothing.” You dig your phone out of your pocket and he watches as your thumbs fly across the screen before you hold it to your ear. “Hi, Steve.” A pause, “No, that’s cancelled. You’re not doing it. Tell Tony I’m cancelling the rest of the interviews. We’ll find some other place to get it published.”

He knows he’s staring and he knows he should stop before you notice, but he just… can’t take his eyes off you. The way you stood up for him, the way you promised him you would even when he was being a total asshole… he has no idea what he did to deserve it, but he’s damn grateful.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, your tone softer than he’s ever heard it.”

He shakes his head, looking down at his feet. “No reason. Just-- sorry I’m such a dick sometimes.”

You laugh, and he immediately wants to hear it again.

“I mean it,” he continues, “I don’t mean to be. You don’t deserve it.”

“Bucky.” Your voice is even softer, quiet, and he struggles to think if you’ve ever called him by his name before. You wait until he meets your eyes. “It’s fine. We’re all-- just trying to get through this.” You shrug. “I know it’s not easy for you. Just… Trust me sometimes, will you?”

“I do trust you.” He replies immediately, absolutely sure of himself for once.

It’s your turn to be a little surprised.

He rubs his hands together, a nervous tick he’s never gotten rid of. “I’ve been trying to distance myself because I like you. And that honestly scares the shit out of me. I don’t know--” He stops, frustrated. “I don’t know how to do this anymore. And all I keep thinking about is what could go wrong.” He takes a chance and glances up at you, and the look in your eyes… it’s more than he expected. He feels his heart take off in his chest.

“We’re both so stupid, Bucky.” You tell him, but your words are light. “You should have said something.”

He rolls his eyes. “People always say that. But when has a conversation like this one ever been one that someone wants to have?”

“Maybe when the other person feels the same way?”

Bucky can’t breathe. He never even considered it. It was always a forgone conclusion in his mind. He thinks you’re beautiful, and you never think about him at all. That was always the truth that he thought he knew. “Go out with me.” He blurts, and then feels his face redden. “I mean-- let me-- will you let me take you to dinner?”

The car stops in front of the tower and you’re opening the door before you say anything, making him panic a little. A look over your shoulder, “I’ll see if I can pencil you in somewhere.” You say, and then with a wink, you’re gone, leaving him scrambling to get out of the car to catch up to you.

Before you can, Steve is there, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Not now--”

“Can’t help it. She called a meeting.”

Bucky stops in his tracks, and laughs. “Did she.”

“She must know how much you love them. Come on.”

Upstairs he finds his usual seat next to Sam and across from Steve, but when you gather your notes and meet his eyes, yours absolutely sparkling, he finds he’s not dreading this one at all. He still wants to take you to dinner though, so he might have to try to break his own record.

A 5 minute meeting so he can convince you to go on a date with him? He thinks he can swing it.

End

[forkanna]

[AO3] [WATTPAD]

NOTE: Here we go. Little bit of a shift in this chapter... you'll see. Thanks for keeping up with this fic and all your comments!

------------

Everything was rather quiet for a couple of days. Rise threw herself into practicing her vocals with every spare moment, meeting with her manager and conferencing with her record label over the phone. She needed the distraction. Without any clear course of action with Ai, she had decided to let that matter fade into the background. Maybe something would come to her eventually.

On Sunday, she and the gang decided to go fishing, since that was one of Narukami's favourite activities and they were all missing him lately. For most of them, it simply meant getting to wave around poles and wade into the water, splashing each other. Kanji and Naoto resented this because they were much more serious about the matter, but the others didn't pay them too much mind.

"Hey, why didn't you invite Ai?" Chie suddenly asked as they re-baited their hooks. "She too snobby to get down here in the river with us?"

Rise laughed. "You're kidding, right?"

"Yeah," she responded, giggling right along. "No way would she be caught dead touching a fish that's not cooked."

"No… I meant that she wouldn't want to hang out with me anymore."

"Why not?" Yukiko asked. "I thought you were becoming sort of close with her."

Wow, how oblivious could they be? "Not anymore."

Once she had explained properly, which took the better part of half an hour, most of the joy had been sucked out of their springtime activity. Rise did feel a little bad about that, but it was as much their fault as hers, so she didn't spend too much mental energy on sympathy for her friends.

"Gosh, that is so sad," Teddie said with a pronounced pout. He really did seem genuinely disappointed not to have another friend. "I know you guys didn't really mean to hurt her feelings."

"Guess I thought he'd be over that by now," Chie confessed quietly.

"Yeah," Yosuke added. "Like, as long as he stays away from my butt, I don't really care what he does with his time. And man, he looks way better in drag than even Teddie did, so…"

While Teddie was harrumphing as if genuinely offended, Kanji chuckled harshly as he twitched his line in the water the tiniest bit. "What is it with you and that gay panic, bro? I'm surprised your Shadow didn't look more like mine."

"H-hey, I'm just a healthy, red-blooded Japanese male! I like girls who are actually girls! Is that a crime?"

"I'll buy you a butt-protector to keep all the dicks out," Chie cackled bemusedly. Yosuke just grimaced.

"I'm… starting to get why she didn't want this getting out," Rise sighed.

"Hm?" Yukiko said as she turned back in her direction. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"No, that sounded important. I wouldn't want to hurt anyone's feelings…"

Which she appreciated. Even if the others were a little oblivious sometimes, Yukiko genuinely meant well all the time. Every minute of every day. "It's just… I'm no big expert on this subject, but you guys can see how much work she put into being taken seriously as a woman. Because she looks like one! Nobody could tell! And I think I haven't paid much attention to how hard that must have been for her… I'm… wow. And I really did almost ruin her life."

Not that she had been unaware of that before. She thought she understood, and she did — better than her friends did, for sure. But listening to them casually treat her like a drag act, a joke, a source of anxiety for Yosuke's extra-fragile masculinity, peeled back just enough of the curtain. Now she knew that she really didn't know anything at all.

"Don't be so dramatic," Chie sighed. "Like you said, he was able to play it off, and he's giving you a lot more shit now than is necessary compared to what you did on accident. Like, scales balanced. If he wants to keep being a dick then that's on him."

Rise shrugged helplessly as she tossed her fishing pole back onto the shore. "You're not wrong about that part. I'm not saying her trying to get revenge on me is right. I'm just saying I understand why she feels so betrayed. Didn't really get it before, but…"

"I still don't get it now," Yosuke grunted. "The whole thing makes me super uncomfortable. But it sounds like he already had the surgery, so… doesn't that mean he's a girl anyway?"

"What? No, it's… nevermind that part." She had been about to insist that Ai did not have "The Surgery" yet, even though she had probably undergone several other minor procedures. But that was the kind of detail that would get her even deeper in trouble than she already was, so she cut herself off.

"Well, I'm with Chie," Yukiko said cautiously. "You have apologized for hurting her, you didn't intend to in the first place. If she were a true friend, she would accept your apology."

"I'm not sure it's that simple."

They all turned to look at Naoto, not having expected her to speak. The girl was wearing a very thoughtful expression underneath her newsboy-casquette cap. "What isn't?" Teddie finally prompted when everybody had been quiet for a little too long.

"This situation with Ebihara-san. She's living her life as transgender, and you have jeopardized that life. Even if on accident, I can see how she would interpret that as an attack."

"Come on," Chie sighed. "Any idiot knows the difference between on accident and on purpose."

"Not necessarily. In law, there is such a thing as 'gross criminal negligence'. This means that even if it's an accident, even if you did nothing with the premeditated intent to do harm, you can still cause harm and be held accountable for it. At least, partially."

"So you're saying it's okay that this asshole is trying to frame our friend for cheating?!" Yosuke burst out.

"Hm? Oh, no, not at all," Naoto insisted, a slight crease in her brow. "But this is a matter of criminal pathology. Even if Ebihara-san is not a criminal, she is perpetrating criminal acts; understanding them requires the same skill set. Motive. Means. Opportunity. We already know the last two, more or less; security isn't especially tight at Yasogami High. I'm sure it was a simple matter for her to sneak into the classroom and pilfer the answer key, then sneak it into Rise's bag when no one was looking. So all that's left is… why?"

"Because he's a petty jerk," Chie provided immediately.

"It's not that simple."

"No, it really is. Maybe you guys get something about how serious us gossiping about him was that I don't, but I don't care. You don't treat a friend like that. Period! Even if he's really pissed at Rise, she did apologize, she's trying to make it right. He's not acting like a friend at all. So I say, screw him! Just let him self-destruct and be alone. And if he won't stop being a jerk to you, we will be jerks right back. I'm not going to sit around while he drags you down for something you didn't even do on purpose."

Rise felt a rush of affection toward Chie Satonaka. Even if she couldn't completely agree with everything she was saying, it was nice to know her friends had her back — that these were true blue friendships that had lasted beyond being part of the same Investigation Team. The passion with which she spoke, and the anger she clearly felt toward Ebihara because she was attacking her friend, made the existence of those bonds unmistakable.

However… she also couldn't ignore the way Naoto's brow furrowed further. Kanji also rested a hand on her shoulder. Was she simply upset about losing an argument, or was there more to that?

"I can't disagree with what you say. I was merely trying to point out that in Ebihara-san's estimation, Rise may deserve vengeance more than she does in any of our estimation. She is viewing the situation differently than we are."

"Well his 'estimation' sucks," Chie grumbled.

"Maybe," Rise finally cut in with a discomfited sigh. "But can you guys… can you promise me you won't do anything mean to her without asking me? At least that? I know she's being a jerk, but it's because I messed up. Huge. So this has to be between her and me."

None of them looked too thrilled with that. Yukiko nodded immediately, seemingly satisfied right away that she was doing what was asked of her by her friend. The others were a little slower to agree but they still all did at some point or another, dissatisfied as they were.

"Thanks. And I'm so happy you have my back, I can't express that enough. But I have to figure this out on my own."

"You got it," Kanji grunted as he started reeling in a fish. "Shit… it's a big one… but I'm not gonna forget how you looked when that old bag accused you of cheating. That ain't right. Ebihara better make it right eventually, or his ass is grass."

What an ominous threat. Well-meaning, but ominous. Rise knew she would have to sort this matter out post haste — before she had to find out just how far her friends were willing to go to come to her aid.

                                          ~ o ~

All of this gave birth to a very determined Rise Kujikawa, and this was the one who walked into school on a foggy Monday morning. Ai had done enough damage; she had to forge ahead as if everything was fine. Her new tactic had to be not to let the bullying get to her, because she better understood it was just her friend being hurt by her own actions. And if she wouldn't accept her apology… there was nothing more she could do.

But she didn't have it in her to give up. That option was stricken off the list. Rise was no quitter.

Everything was fine until her second-to-last class of the day. Rise had mostly focused on schoolwork and chatting with her other friends, taking her mind off more depressing matters. Gearing up for a promotional video she was supposed to shoot soon; that would be a first step toward reestablishing herself as an artist, even if she still didn't intend to go back to singing full-time until she graduated. And the class with Ms. Sofue was fine in and of itself… for the first ten minutes or so.

That was when she noticed the smell. At first, she was looking around the room to try and figure out who had lost control of their bowels in such close proximity to other students. Maybe it was something they had for lunch?

A brief investigation ten minutes later revealed the true culprit, once everyone was looking at her like she was being most unladylike. Deep in the recesses of her desk, which she never used to keep anything since she would just have to move it again after class, someone had stuffed an old sandwich. Unless she missed her guess, there was natto and egg on it, among other things. But there was too much mold growing inside the sandwich bag for her to be certain.

"Oh GOOD GOD!" cried one of the boys nearby, covering his face with his arm. "What's in that thing?!"

Waving at the air with her crooked heka, the teacher coughed and demanded, "Please dispose of your lunch in a proper manner from now on, Miss Kujikawa! Make no mistake, even I have no interest in mummified food!"

A few of them were able to wrap it in some paper and drag it to the trash can, amid Rise's protests that she had never seen it before. Nobody believed her, because the natto tended to make it seem obvious that it had come from Marukyu — even though their speciality was tofu, not other soybean offerings. A lot of bickering back and forth broke out until the teacher banged her cane on her desk.

"Enough! Miss Kujikawa has technically broken no rule, even if it was her sandwich. So we'll say no more about it. Please, open your books again and turn to page…"

But the entire class period, Rise couldn't stop thinking about the sandwich. She already knew who it was; only one person at that school was stupid enough to actively mess with a famous pop idol. The instant the bell rang, she pelted out of class so fast that quite a few students gasped. By now, she knew what class Ai was supposed to be in around this time… and where she could find her.

                                          ~ o ~

"Oh!" gasped one of the girls in the locker room when Rise barged past her. "Do you even have this class? What are you doing in the-"

"Ebihara?" she asked. Some girl with a towel wrapped around her hair pointed further into the room. Rise stormed over there to find a towel-clad Ai preening at the mirror hanging on the inside of her locker, running the brush through her hair over and over. "Thanks for your present."

Smirking a little, the girl didn't even glance over. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah? You don't recognise it?"

Everyone gasped when she threw it onto the bench nearest Ebihara. That was nothing compared to the chorus of disgusted noises that followed once its foul stench began to pervade the air within the steamy room. Even still wrapped in the plastic bag, it was horrendous.

"Oh, GOD," Ai joined in, though she was chuckling just a little. "Why would you be carrying that thing around? Just to throw at me like that?"

"Why?" she demanded. "This has crossed the line from mean to just… weird! What's the point of stinking up the classroom?"

Full of false innocence, she pressed a hand to her chest as she said, "Why, I don't know. Sounds to me like someone just forgot to throw away her lunch. Maybe you should be a little less wasteful. Then again, as rich and famous as you are, I bet you don't care at all."

A ripple of murmurs spread throughout the room. Rise knew that they didn't really care about the sandwich, or about wastefulness, but they were highly concerned with this argument between two students playing out right in front of them. Gossip fodder. So she decided not to give them any more ammunition.

"Okay. We'll just throw it away." She snatched it off the bench and flashed Ai a poisonous smile. "Have a lovely day, Ebi-chan."

"Don't you mean Ebi-kun?"

Rise stopped dead in her tracks. She actually looked around for what assholes had said it, determined to give them a dressing down. Even if they were fighting, nobody got to talk about her friend like that. But she realized it had come from Ai herself. "What?"

"You were one of the people that started the rumour, right?" She looked so haughty, arms folded over her chest and hip cocked to one side. "So I'm surprised you let it go that easy."

Deciding to play along, she smirked and shot back, "I heard you showed off the goods to some other girls and it proved it was false."

"Yeah. But since when do people like you care about facts? You would much rather be right than the truth prevail."

"People like- okay. Whatever this is, whatever you want from me, I'm done with it. I thought we could try to be adults and move on, but all you want to do is start a war — one I'm not interested in fighting. Just leave me alone if you really can't stand me this bad, okay?"

Ai laughed and took a step forward. "Rise-Risette, the gossip-monger. And now, the cheater! What terrible thing are you going to do next?"

"I didn't do anything in the first place!"

"You know you did." The smile disappeared for a second, leaving her friend's features full of cold fury. But it was so brief that most of the other girls probably wouldn't have noticed; then she was smiling like rainbows were shooting out of her ass again. "And hey, if you want to try to blame me for all of it, go ahead. You might as well."

"No, that's not necessary. Maybe it's just a series of tragic coincidences."

"Uh huh. Or maybe you're just a self-destructive pop idol, a little brat who couldn't hack it in the entertainment industry, and now that you're stuck in boring old Inaba, you want attention again. Don't you see you're going about it all the wrong ways?"

So that was her game. Now Rise could see this for what it was: it wasn't just any one incident meant to slander her and give her a bad name. All of them together were supposed to paint a picture of a celebrity spiraling out of control. Rise was going to turn into the Japanese Britney Spears if Ai Ebihara had anything to do with it.

"You really want to destroy me that badly?" she hissed now that they were so close their noses were almost touching. All the girls around them were whispering and chattering, watching the drama intently. The rub was, they were gossiping so much about what they were saying that they couldn't even actually hear what they were saying.

"You can bet on it. I told you I was going to, unless you destroy me first. And I think you will. I think you are exactly the kind of person who will shoot in self-defense."

"That isn't me," she breathed, glancing down at Ai's body. It was so close to her own… she couldn't help looking, couldn't help feeling flustered even though they were fighting right now. "We both know that. You're just mad I messed up, and you won't let me apologize, and you won't leave it alone. There's nothing else I can do."

"Yes there is." Then she hiked an eyebrow slightly, lowering her voice to barely a whisper. "What? What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Just… trying to figure out what to-"

"You were trying to figure out if you could see my dick. Weren't you?" As Rise felt her brow furrow, Ai chuckled and pressed on, "Do it. Go looking."

She could feel her temper flaring hotter. It was getting hard to control. "Stop being so gross. I wouldn't do that, I haven't done that, and I'm not going to do that."

"Why not? Come on… all you have to do is rip this towel off me. Show the world. Maybe I'm tucking again, maybe I'm not. But wouldn't that be great if you exposed a scandal in the women's locker room? Risette the Hero, saving all these poor girls from the freak."

"You know — you know I have never once in my life called you a freak, why do you want me to hurt you so badly? What do you get out of it? Are you some kind of psycho masochist?!"

"Sure! Go with that. Even more reason to save everyone. Do it." No movement. "Clock's ticking. The longer you wait, the weirder it's going to be that we're standing here whispering to each other."

But Rise's mind was racing. She still had no idea really why she was pushing so hard for her to attack, to be so vicious. She thought back to the revelation she had when walking home — about Ai, about what these attacks meant for their relationship. And when she thought of it that way…

Everything came together. Of course, nothing was for certain until she heard it straight from the horse's mouth, but now Rise thought she understood the reason her former friend was trying so hard to get her to treat her like vermin.

"No," she whispered with a small smile.

"No? Aww, I guess the games continue then," Ai said with a fake, exaggerated pout. "You're going to have to be a lot tougher than that to make it as a star."

"Actually… let's play a new game. Unless you want to give up now?" Her pleading face returned. "Please, please just stop. I'll leave you alone if that's what you want, or we can go back to being friends and… try to put this behind us. But I'm not giving up, not going away. So…? Maybe?"

Ai shook her head. "This isn't your game, you don't get to change the rules, princess. So nice try."

"Fine," she sighed… before sliding her arms tightly around Ai.

"H-hey!" she burst out. Then a little louder, "Oh my GOD, now Risette is trying to molest me!"

Before the gasps really had a chance to deepen, Rise sobbed, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you, I just… I just love you so much Ai, a-and when you… when you pulled away, I didn't know what to do! Can't you forgive me?"

Even the girls who weren't watching before were glued to this scene now. And even though she could tell Ai didn't like losing control of the situation — hated might have been more apropos — she still drew back to gape at her.

"What… did you just say?"

"I asked you to forgive-"

"Cut the bullSHIT!" she snapped loudly enough that one smaller girl yelped and fell back on her ass, scrabbling for the nearest bench. "You can't mean that. Not in front of all these people, you… they'll know you're- if you say how you feel, that's…"

"I don't care about them! I love you, Ai, I… I didn't mean for us to end up this way!" Her bottom lip wobbled hard as she took a shaky breath. "But if you really can't forgive me, I'll understand! I just… I can't go on with us hurting each other like this!"

"Oh, this is so not going to work," she scoffed… until she saw a few of the girls putting their hands on Rise's shoulders, comforting her as the big fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Offering tissues, petting her hair. "Are you- wow, you guys can't be buying this! It's an act!"

"Hey, don't be so mean!" said some girl with bobbed hair; Rise thought her name was Matsunaga, but she couldn't remember at the moment. The moment Ai's gaze was on her, she said much more quietly, "S-sorry."

"Oh my GOD. Fine. Whatever, I'm out of here."

But a wall of girls blocked her way. They were all glowering at her now, looking ready to throw down; they would never have challenged alone but there was safety in numbers. Ai's eyebrows shot up, unimpressed… but the more she looked at all of them, the more anxious she appeared. Not frightened, just uneasy from the attention. The constant attention, while wearing a towel… prospect of a fight… she backed into a corner and they started to advance on her. This would get seriously out of hand if someone didn't step in.

Someone stepped in.

"Please, just give me another chance," Rise provided smoothly as she slid forward through the throng of girls, taking up Ai's hand — which was immediately yanked out of reach. Her voice was taut with emotion as she pleaded, "That's all! I'll show you I can be a better friend, a-and those pranks? Forgotten! And I won't ever tell another lie about you again, I promise!"

Ai took another good look around at the student body standing in opposition against her. The wheels were turning behind her eyes. Then she glared down at Rise with a shake of her head. "You… conniving… snake," she muttered.

Some of the girls heard it, and looked more scandalised. And because now everyone else was behind her… Rise felt comfortable allowing a smug, triumphant smirk to take over her features. Just for an instant. She even mouthed a few choice words:

"You only have one way out."

Oh, she had never seen Ai look that angry before. This wasn't just annoyance or rage. She looked murderous. But it only lasted a second before she sighed, shut her eyes, took a breath.

"Rise… fine. I know… I went too far. Can you forgive me?"

"Wow, really sounds authentic," one of the others closest to the lockers scoffed.

"No, really." When Ai opened her eyes again, she was smiling weakly. "I have missed you. I just didn't know… I was so angry when you started that nasty rumour."

"I know. It was a stupid mistake! And I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you just… take me back! That's all you have to do." She took both of her hands, ignoring the way nails were digging into her own. Petty little revenges were par for the course now. "Just be with me."

One could hear a pin drop in that locker room. Ai pulled her close and whispered softly, "You want to play this game? We're playing it on a national level."

"Bring it on," she replied in kind, smirking again — even while her heart pounded in her throat from the closeness. "But c'mon, I beat you this round."

"Shut up."

Such a chorus of "WHOOOOO" went up when they kissed that it felt like they were shaking the foundation of Yasogami High. Probably because, metaphorically as well as literally, they were. Game-changer indeed.

                                          To Be Continued…

[sam-roulette]

what are some of the most obscure aus you guys have talked about, and would you ever write anything for them? i'd love to see a oneshot of something out there!

Oh BOY have we talked about some Odd Shit

One of these aus is an au fusion with the book Into The Drowning Deep by Mira Grant, a mermaid-based horror sci-fi story with some Interesting Relationship Dynamics, namely Jonmartin divorce hours where neither actually Really wanted a divorce but did so under Circumstances

Under the read more are the image IDs for this batch and the screens and image IDs for the Kagerou Daze Project AU!

Image ID:

A discord text message from "the sam with the angst pipe", showing a keysmash followed by "this also means that Martin ends up having to become a corporate shill in an effort to strong arm a rich fuck into funding a lavish research expedition to search after what happened to the dead crew of the submarine sent for the mermaid mockumentary”

A discord message from “Not Sam”, saying “The thought of Martin having to put up an act of corporate shilling makes me think he gets so Done with the customer service voice he puts up that it sounds like Alex’s intro to the fluff episode”

A discord message tagging “the sam with the angst pipe”, saying “Martin goes ‘hey shnookums’ and Jon’s blood runs cold”, followed by a keysmash

A discord message from “the sam with the angst pipe”, saying “Jon's just sitting here like "I will have the same lawyer who drew up the divorce papers neither of us have signed yet so we can go over the contract for this expedition" and Martin just looks into the camera like he’s on the office and as though he isn’t doing this to try and find out what happened to a lot of his friends”. This is followed by Three discord messages from “not Sam”, saying “Lmaooo”, “Oliver is the lawyer”, and “He still stole a scientist’s identity and got a whole expedition killed once before but shhhhh Jonmartin doesn’t need to know that”

A discord message from “the Sam with the angst pipe” saying: “"People take me for some kind of CONSPIRACY THEORIST, Martin.”Jon says. Martin replies, ”how's that my fault?! you got a degree in sirenology even BEFORE they found the damned mermaids!!!"

A discord message from “not Sam”, saying “Peter gets eaten by mermaids asmr” 

End Image IDs.

Another one is a lil offshoot from the Kagerou Daze project with Tim as an “AI” who’s :) definitely :) not a surveillance tool :) and will not use information for gossip with his friends and nothing else

And The latter may have a lil one shot in the works! Just gotta wait and see👁

Second batch of image IDs

A discord message from “the sam with the angst pipe”, saying “Sasha and Tim eventually get out and all over the news there’s word on the police thinking the whole damn station is haunted or at least that some weird cyber attack had happened overnight and Sasha’s just looking at Tim and Tim’s peeking out from the side of the tv screen, superimposed over the news like oh whoops”, followed by A discord message from “Not Sam”, saying “Ajfjfjfjf Tim trying to put a hand over the news anchor’s mouth like that’ll help anything”

A discord message from “Not Sam”, saying “counterpoint: ALL Jon knows about technology is Tim. He sees Martin’s laptop and goes hey how does that thing function without the little man in there that moves around your stuff”

Two discord messages from “the sam with the angst pipe”, saying “Melanie's like "ah sorry mate but to be fair my brothers like to enable the hell out of me" and Martin has a fucking heart attack because Is That Disgraced YouTuber Melanie King” and “WHY is she saying an AI is her Brother”

A discord message from “the sam with the angst pipe” saying “i mean hjfvghb they just all have to find Tim's body and then he'll only be a manic pixie computer fairy Sometimes”

End Image ID.

[letstrywritingmaybe]

‘Tis The Damn Season

There's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me

But if it's all the same to you

It's the same to me

And the road not taken looks real good now

And it always leads to you and my hometown

Soft white specs of snow coat the ground hiding all the grey of the sidewalk as a woman with light auburn hair treads carefully towards a home she would never forget. The icy chill of the wind is something she misses dearly about the place she considers to be her hometown. Warm weather irritates her, she much preferred the coolness of winter covering her in a soft white blanket. With a gloved hand, she opens the front door with ease as she’s greeted by the father figure she never had.

“Ai-kun… sorry, I mean Shiho-kun, it’s been a while. We’re so glad to have you home.”

“We? Did you finally make an honest woman out of Fusae? Aren’t you a bit old to go with the elopement route?”

“That I am, we haven’t gotten married yet, good thing she isn’t here for you to ruin the surprise. I was actually talking about Shinichi. He’s been spending a lot more time with the kids since you’ve been gone. We all miss you terribly.”

“I missed you guys too… here, let me help with dinner. Just like old time’s sake.”

The cool breeze sends a shudder through her body though she’s too proud to admit she didn’t wear enough layers in her haste to follow the detective out in the dead of night to capture the culprit. Luckily they managed to find the madman in time before he commits any further atrocities, the police have him in handcuffs as they speak. Silence surrounds the two, a nice quiet atmosphere as they take in the beautiful scenery, flurries of snowflakes float through the air coating the pine trees in the forest.

“Here.”

Without further warning, the great detective takes his coat off to wrap around her shaking figure, she resists at first but it’s short lived. The blush on his cheeks as he tells her to stop fidgeting as he gently pushes her forward, with his hand on her back, towards the cabin they rented with his friends.

“Shin… Kudo, you’re going to freeze to death. Take your jacket back.”

“And hear you complain about me giving you hypothermia? Not a chance.”

“Well I don’t want to hear you complain that I forced frostbite upon your skin.”

“I won’t complain. Promise. It’s a short walk anyways.”

Something in the tone of his voice and the way his eyes lingered on her for a pause too long shuts her up. She tries to hide the red on her face as she pulls his jacket tighter around her body. He seems to want to tell her sometime else as she hears his exhales and sees his breath in her peripheral, but the words never come. Until they reach the door, his hand leaves its spot on her back, he tugs on her arm instead, face to face with nowhere else to run. His expression still haunts her as he begs her to stay.

“Please, don’t leave. I need you here Shiho.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Why.”

His question didn’t need an answer, it isn’t one that he can understand anyways, truth be told she isn’t even completely sure why the need to be free of this place screams at her now that she has the means to escape. She wishes she could take him with her, the call to leave behind her true hometown isn’t in him, and she doesn’t want to settle for second best anymore.

The smell of the fresh pine tree as Agasa unloads it from his trusty beetle into his home hits her hard, memories of holiday seasons past flood through the gates, the recurring theme is always him. With a practiced and perfected smile, she helps her adopted father decorate the tree, adding ornaments she remembers picking out with the detective next door. Her heart aches thinking about him, so close yet just out of reach, she wonders briefly if he missed her as much as she missed him.

A secret paradise under the covers of his bed, heaven on earth is to be in his arms with his bright blue eyes searching for her though they’re tangled together in a mess of limbs. He steals a kiss from her while she’s dazed from their previous activities, heart full and threatening to spill out at any moment if he keeps smiling at her like that. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, his breath tickles as he convinces her to stay a while longer.

“I know we have work to do, but… it’s a long weekend… hear me out, what if we get up in another hour. The kids will understand why we’re late.”

“They’ll forgive me, but I’m not so sure about you.”

“What? Why would they blame me?”

“Because, I’ll just tell them you attacked me.”

“I attacked you? I seem to recall things differently. You’re the one who seduced me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, all I did was borrow one of your shirts, then you ripped it off. I’m not fixing those buttons by the way.”

“The only thing you need to fix is this.”

He puts her hand over his chest to feel his heartbeat, he says it with a smile, but she knows his heart is breaking and it’s all her fault. She should tell him, the least she can do is tell him the feelings are mutual right? That he’s not the only one feeling crushed by her decision.

“Shin… Kudo I…”

“I know.”

She couldn’t get the confession out, even now after all they’ve been through, she’s still afraid of the fallout of admitting she loves him just as much as he loves her. He forgives her for it, his pure heart doesn’t deserve to be tainted by her, but still he lets her in knowing all it leads is heartbreak. He kisses her, distracting her from spiraling deeper into her thoughts, he’s still protecting her now that she should be able to hold her own. She’s a fool for fleeing the only love she’s ever known, but shattered edges still glisten under the golden sun, she holds onto this hope as she clutches him closer into her heart.

The Detective Boys are in their last year of elementary school now, how time flies, she still remembers saying goodbye to them at the airport two years ago when she left in search of herself. They all knew about what happened and why they had to hide their identities creating these aliases. She wasn’t sure at the time whether or not it was wise to clue them in, but they were too stubborn and suspicious for their own good. She expected them to be angry, which they were but for a completely different reason, they didn’t like being left out though now they understood it wasn’t just them and it was for their safety. With the secret out, it was a lot easier for them to bond despite the ten year age differences, they managed to stay friends because of this. She treasures their friendship, some days she wishes she was there with them as they navigate their own journey towards adulthood. Seeing them all rush over to tackle her in a group hug makes her realize things aren’t so different after all.

“Shiho-neechan! You have to try this chocolate mousse I made!”

Ayumi is already pulling her towards the kitchen while Genta whines that it’s not fair that Shiho gets to have dessert first. Mitsuhiko interrupts to suggest that they all sit down for dinner now that all the guests have arrived. Her heart pounds in her chest as she looks up to make eye contact with the man who still holds the key to her locked heart, he smiles at her as if it hasn’t been two long years since the last time they spoke let alone seen each other in person. The magnetic energy in the air forces the two former lovers next to each other, everything seems normal to the outside world, just two partners reunited for Christmas having dinner with their part time children. After dessert, the kids are pushing her all over Shinichi’s house to show off all the effort they put in the decorations in preparation of her coming back home. She knows something is up as they all grew quiet while walking further behind her as they headed back towards the Christmas tree display in the living room. Shinichi is there too with a blush on his face as he explains this was all their idea, she finally looks up and that’s when she notices the mistletoe hanging above them, the kids wait eagerly to see what happens next.

“You sure this was all the kids’ idea?”

“I may have turned a blind eye to it…”

“So you’re just as guilty.”

“Only for you.”

He wipes the smirk off her face catching her off guard when he leans in to kiss her. It was meant to be a chaste kiss, but nothing about them ever went according to plan. Her hands on his chest gripping his blue sweater, his arms snake around her waist pulling her closer. His tongue slips into her mouth, she nearly loses control wanting to take the layers in between them off, the children gasps out loud snapping her back to reality. Red faced, he still manages to get her to laugh as he whispers they would finish this later once the children have all gone to bed.

A couple hours later they’re left alone as the kids bid their goodbye with Genta specially giving them a wink as he shut the door. Shinichi shakes his head, but he was thinking the same thing the moment his eyes laid upon hers when she walked in the room. His hands grasp hers as he pulls her back under the mistletoe exactly where they stood before.

“Now, where were we?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Only for you.”

“Kudo…”

The sound of his last name gives him the sign he hoped he wouldn’t find, his mood sombers up, but it does nothing to deter him. The hurt in his eyes is a clear giveaway, she mirrors him in every way, this isn’t what she wants either.

“How long?”

“Just the weekend.”

She waits for him to push her away, like a drug he’s finally ready to quit, but he doesn’t. She’s captured his entire body and soul, there’s no turning back.

“Stay with me.”

“Always.”

His lips press onto hers sealing her promise as he takes claim over her entire being. Long nights lost of his very essence surrendering herself to him over and over without regrets. Bruises and love bites trail along her body, they’re nothing compared to the scars she’s left on his heart. He places a kiss on every mark he imprinted on her, she doesn’t know if she has the strength to walk away this time. His tenderness even knowing this isn’t permanent cuts her deep to the core. He has no idea what he does to her, she should tell him, clue him in on all the evidence she’s left behind until he sees that her heart has always been with him.

“... Ku…”

“I love you.”

He beats her to it, always the first to jump to action, the first to fall changing the fear into flight as he plunges deeper into the abyss. He isn’t looking for a confirmation, he knows she feels the same, but he also knows it isn’t enough to convince her to stay. It didn’t work two years ago when she left and never looked back, and it won’t work now that he’s finally said the words out loud, he just wanted her to know. Carrying it as a secret does nothing for the parties involved, at least now it was spoken out loud, giving new life to the truth he’s held back for too long.

“... even though I’m leaving.”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

She stops avoiding his eyes, a smile reserved just for him, she traces letters making up words she should have told him on his skin. He laughs when she writes on his arm that he could call her babe for the weekend, until her finger hovers over his heart before she decides against it to press a kiss there instead.

“Always.” She tells him again, for her, the one person she couldn’t let go of is him. She’s always led back to him.

Also available on ao3 <3

[westanabadguy]

Just regular ol’ fanfiction nothing to see here

 Ok ok so I found this site that uses AI to autocomplete a writing you give it and I decided to let it complete some fanfiction prompts for me.

It’s definitely something.

If you want to do your own version of this, the site is talktotransformer, Idk if I can fully link it (does tumblr still hide posts with web links in them?), but you’ll find it just by looking it up.

Anyways, onto the show. Words in Bold are mine, the rest are the beautiful work of the AI.

Also, quick note before I begin, this AI REALLY like to just... stop in the middle of a sentence. That’s not me cutting it off, it just decides it’s done when it’s done lol.

First one, oddly on the mark?

The AI somehow got their fighting style on point, but the rest? Well...

Despite their slim height difference, Kakuzu seemed to tower over Hidan as he pressed him against the wall. Riled up, adrenaline still pumping from the fight, their breaths intermingled, a warm touch in the dead, cold night. Hidan was the first to speak, "Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?" Kakuzu grinned, a silver streak. "Oh, you'll see." Not being a particularly dedicated taijutsu user, Hidan actually deflected every one of Kakuzu's strikes in a manner similar to a laser defense system. Never deviating from their intended targets or pattern of attack. Occasionally hitting the hard compound area he was supposedly guarding and when he did

Second one, whomst the fuck?

This one really went off on a great start, but...

 Deidara's breath left him in sharp, pained pants and grunts. His abdomen was a bloody mess, the cost of an explosion gone wrong. Letting his gaze wonder up to the man trying to save him, he marveled at how well the blood matched Sasori's crimson mop of hair. He collapsed like a sack of potatoes under his Master's angry gaze. Master picked him up and shook him, only to drop him again. Letting his head fall back against the heat metal, he tried to think of what was next for him. "Gorō? Have you-" "Hold it!" Daihasei was shouting, loud and

... who the fuck are Goro and Daihasei?

Third one, the AI may have had a stroke

I’m starting to suspect that the AI is getting info on these characters from good ol’ google. Still doesn’t help it at all tho, lmao.

Kisame bobbed in the water, letting the current do as it pleased. He smiled, all teeth, and called to the younger man standing a safe distance from the shoreline. "C'mon, Itachi! You afraid of a little water?" Itachi raised his eyebrows, and stood just as swiftly as his eight years before. "I'm no waterman, Kisame," he said in a mocking voice. Kisame shook his head slowly, trying to decide if Itachi was truly kidding. Itachi was about as much of a comedian as he was a jounin. The older man laughed, loud enough that it startled a flock of pigeons that kept

Kept what, AI? What did the pigeons keep?

Fourth one, ok the AI is definitely cheating

... and it all honesty? It’s not helping it much. I have no clue what’s happening here.

Hidan wrapped him in an embrace, too fast for him to avoid, and hugged him tight. "Shut, up Kakuzu. Let me have this." And for whatever reason, he did. "Wow, you really are fucking badass. Get back to doing your thing," a cloaked avatar of Hidan whispered and Sasuke took that as a cue to wriggle back a bit, before he landed just beside the black-hooded Nii. He and Hidan shared a look of stunned amazement as the creature in black lifted the pendant. "Kakuzu, uh, it is good to see you're up and doing well. Maybe I'll make an appearance sometime."

Ok, since longer prompts weren’t doing too well, I decided to start giving it very short prompts, and well...

Fifth attempt, AI does not know who Deidara and Sasori are, apparently

Deidara smirked, leaned on top of Hiruko, and tapped on the hollowed wood. "Sasori, my man, you in there?" "Yeah, Hoshino-san. My friends are here," Hiruko said, pointing in the direction. "We'd like you to come out, already." The physical form of the group stood just inside the entrance, the front door and window open. Chuunin began pacing to the door, idly sliding it open for his team. Hiruko remained outside, hands in his pockets, grinning with the serpentine mandibles that caved out from beneath his scales. "But they're in the forest." Chuunin tapped

Sixth Attempt, Suddenly, Naruto

Itachi glared, eyes a warning shade of crimson. "Kisame, put me down." Itachi was calm, equally calm as he slid forward, having almost completely been wrapped by the cloak he'd been dragging behind him. "Breton," Naruto said, jerking slightly as Itachi pushed him down. Itachi hesitated as he looked up at him, clearly saying some obscure words as he grinned. "Itachi?" "Itachi?" "Itachi," Naruto repeated. "You're a real bad guy. Here, I won't hurt you." "You'll try," Itachi replied, indicating the snake that was wrapped around Naruto's throat.

And a seventh one, just for shits and giggles

These are flat out just the completely wrong characters but ok AI

Danzo pulled the plant man down on top of him. "Kiss me, Zetsu, you, big handsome man, you." "I… just woke up…" Naruto protested. "Yes, you are big and handsome." "Um…" Naruto said, bewildered. "What are you saying?" Kinkaku asked him. "You were asleep." "I'm sorry. I couldn't move…" "We can move you." "We?" Kinkaku asked. Naruto shook his head. Kinkaku sniffed the air. "Are you all right?" she asked him in curiosity. "K-Kiss me?"

[imgoingtocrash]

I Want to Go

by @imgoingtocrash for @slothbeans

Rating: G

Word Count: 5,179

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker (mentioned), Pepper Potts/Tony Stark (mentioned), Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark (mentioned), Ben Parker & Peter Parker & Tony Stark (mentioned)

Summary:

““There he is.”

It’s Tony. Anthony Edward Stark. Mister Stark. His Mister Stark, his mentor, his friend, his could-have-been father figure if only they had more time together, if Peter hadn’t wasted it, if Tony hadn’t—

Not-dead Tony whirls around on a rolling stool, his arms propped against his knees. Peter can’t move his eyes off of the man in front of him, but he knows the space well enough to recognize where he is: the lab. Tony’s old lab at the Avengers Compound. The lab that doesn’t exist anymore. It was obliterated in the battle with Thanos and replaced with a new one that only Bruce, Doctor Cho, and Peter himself seemed to get any use out of.

This is the Tony he never got to know, inhabiting the familiar space.”

Tony Stark becomes a guardian angel after his death, and his task is watching out for Peter. After a harried run-in with the Green Goblin leaves Peter on the brink between life and death, Tony and Peter get the chance to talk about Peter's recent less-than-stellar life choices that led him to this point.

Read on Ao3

My gift for the second @friendly-neighborhood-exchange​​! I hope you enjoy it! Full fic also under the cut as requested by the exchange!

Peter really should have expected something like this to happen.

There are a lot of sayings about it: burning the candle at both ends, biting off more than you can chew, too many irons in the fire…he’s got melted wax all over a heaping plate of food and—okay,  yep, this metaphor is going nowhere.

He’s a disaster lately, is what he’s getting at. And proving it by using too many turns of phrase at the same time in his head when it doesn’t really matter.

What even is his head, right now?

He doesn’t remember falling. Getting the tar kicked out of him…well, it’s more likely, but he still doesn’t actually remember it.

Everything is hazy. It’s like looking into his camera when the lens is unfocused. And everything is bright—oversensitive to his already wonky spider-senses, bright.

Is that a concussion symptom? He can’t remember that either.

“Karen?” he tries, but it comes out as a bit of a slur. The AI doesn’t respond, so he tries again. “Kare-bear, you up?”

Then he realizes his vision is certainly not being obscured by the lenses of his mask. He’s not wearing it.

Moving doesn’t hurt like he thought it would. He expected that gut-bombing feeling that comes with nausea, a pull of muscle against his spine or ribs, maybe the feeling of blood trickling down after a bullet or knife pierced something it shouldn’t have.

Instead it’s—fine. The blur of his vision clears as soon as he sits up and he’s…on the floor.

More senses come back with his eyes. The floor underneath him is cold. There’s a smell of oil and something just slightly burnt in the air, flaring his nostrils.

He’s not in an embarrassing dream where he’s naked, at least. He’s clothed in…no, that can’t be right. He hasn’t worn Tony’s old MIT sweatshirt in years. Not since…

“There he is.”

It’s Tony. Anthony Edward Stark. Mister Stark. His Mister Stark, his mentor, his friend, his could-have-been father figure if only they had more time together, if Peter hadn’t wasted it, if Tony hadn’t—

Not-dead Tony whirls around on a rolling stool, his arms propped against his knees. Peter can’t move his eyes off of the man in front of him, but he knows the space well enough to recognize where he is: the lab. Tony’s old lab at the Avengers Compound. The lab that doesn’t exist anymore. It was obliterated in the battle with Thanos and replaced with a new one that only Bruce, Doctor Cho, and Peter himself seemed to get any use out of.

This is the Tony he never got to know, inhabiting the familiar space.

The older man is wearing dark jeans and t-shirt color expertly matched with the grey cardigan that completes the outfit. It’s a warm ensemble. It’s like the picture he always finds himself looking at when he visits the Stark cabin: Tony and Pepper on a hospital bed, exhausted but holding their new baby girl like she’s the only thing in the world.

Welcoming.

Loving.

Soft.

He wanted that Tony too. He wanted Tony back in any form most days, period.

Tony watches Peter examine him head to toe before continuing to speak.

“I’ve never done this before. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to wake you up or not. And not that I don’t love you, kiddo, but I’m more of a hugger than a Prince Charming type.”

Tony had hugged him. In the middle of a battle to save the universe, Tony took those ten seconds and hugged him and maybe if he hadn’t there would have been more time, another way, anything but watching Tony’s light go out.

“I am so glad Morgan’s finally growing out of her Disney Princesses phase, by the way. Aren’t you?” Tony says, like it’s just another Tuesday instead of whatever day of the week it is where Peter’s seeing things and losing his goddamn mind.

“Not that her running around screaming The Next Right Thing wasn’t cute and all. It’s just like—we all have our limits and I reached mine two Disneyland vacations ago."

Tony tilts his head.

“If you and MJ ever have kids, though.” Tony whistles. “Ben’s told me stories about your obsession with Kidz Bop songs. I hate to say it, but I think you two are in for it worse than Pepper and I ever were. I mean, at least Morgan has taste.”

“Mister—Tony, I—Ben—what?”

“Oh. Yeah, shit, sorry to spring all of that on you at once. I get carried away, you know me. Here, take your seat. We have time.”

Tony rolls over the other stool with his foot, patting the leather in invitation.

Peter keeps staring.

Tony gives a put-upon sigh. “Alright, let’s get this out of the way, then. No, I’m not one of Beck’s illusions, or one of Doctor Ocavious’ serums, or—what other reality-bending bad guys have you messed with lately. Did I cover them all yet?”

“Chameleon.”

“Oh, right, yeah. He had the gall to impersonate me and Michelle. That was rough on you, I’m sure.” Tony scratches his beard. “Though your last toss up certainly wasn’t better, considering.”

“Considering?” Peter asks. Curiosity has always been his problem. Right next to talking too much, which he’s currently doing very well with.

“One thing at a time, web-head. We’re certainly going to get to that.”

“That’s a new one.”

“Hm?”

“A new nickname. For me.”

“Huh.” Tony smiles to himself. “Guess so. Nice. I really thought I’d run the gamut. You know, that fire kid pisses me off to no end, but he’s really creative with the names. Makes me really aspirational about your generation.”

“How do you know Johnny?“ Peter shakes his head. Just another thing that needs explaining. “I think I’d really like to know what’s going on now, Mister Stark.”

“Fair enough. Alright, J, let’s get metaphysical.”

“Certainly, sir,” a prim, robotic voice replies.

With a resounding clap of Tony’s hands, the room descends into darkness before a set of holograms lights up around them, depicting a map of stars that expands around their heads.

“Let’s start with the facts: some people were right and some people were wrong. I wasn’t ever a very religious guy, but that doesn’t matter so much. All I know is that this is…whatever you want to call the afterlife part. The end after the end. What comes next, and so on. Well, an extension of it. Specifically from me to you.”

“How does that work?”

Tony snorts. “That, kiddo, is one of the few things I don’t know. There’s less all-knowing after death than I thought there’d be. Thor’s people have some theories—they call it Valhalla, theorize about their god-types—but I’ve yet to meet any kind of Grand Poobah as of yet.”

“But you did. Die, I mean.”

“Yeah, I did.” Tony sighs, placing a hand on Peter’s knee. “It was a tough choice, sacrificing myself. Strange thought it was the only one and I…” He swallows. “I would have done anything it took to make sure that you and everyone else in the universe got to live. So I made that call. And I accepted that it meant I would be out of the picture for the foreseeable future.”

There are a lot of things Peter wants to say, but doesn’t. I wish you hadn’t. We weren’t worth it. I’m not worth it.

Tony clears his throat, trying to breathe levity back into the atmosphere.

“But apparently, while we’re all here waiting for the rest of our loved ones to join in…we get perks.” Tony gestures to the room around them, an exact replica down to DUM-E and U rolling around in the corners instead of where they’re currently sitting in Tony’s dusty garage.

“It turns out the end isn’t totally the end. We get to watch and wait in style—go to old haunts, see old friends and family. Sometimes lend a hand, push away a bullet or two.” He nudges Peter’s shoulder on that one. “Specifically, I was offered the very coveted position of being the spiritual watchdog for a very special Spiderling.”

“So you’ve been watching,” Peter summates. “That’s how you know about—about Morgan and Johnny and everything that’s happened since you’ve been gone.”

Tony nods. “Your Uncle Ben had the job first. Maybe he took turns with your parents, I never asked. But what I do know is that you made that excellently unflappable man…well, stressed out to no end. We can only do so much from here, and you were throwing yourself headfirst into danger every other day. Before I entered the picture as your mentor, he was worried you’d join him sooner rather than later.”

Peter looks down at his lap, guilty. He can’t deny it—after Ben’s death, Peter was determined to use his powers for good instead of flipping around the streets entertaining himself as he pleased. That meant wearing himself thin on sleep, skipping classes, and being a little less careful about avoiding rather than attacking. Every robber from bank to bike thief got their punishment. Knife wounds didn’t matter, turning his skin black and blue didn’t either. Guns, he was particularly unforgiving about.

He had already faced what he thought was the worst trauma of his life at that point. He could afford an injury or two, and May was so blindsided with grief that she let him get away with leaving blood on the bathroom sink from doing his own stitches or waking up with a black eye for long enough that he got better at covering it up.

How could he have ever considered that Ben would be watching? He doesn’t want to think about all of the scrapes Tony’s now seen him get into.

“When I came up here…well, he and Nat were my welcoming party. Those two get along like old drinking buddies, actually. Weirds me out.” Tony scrunches his nose in what is likely false distaste.

He softens, though, moving his hand from Peter’s knee to cup his cheek. It’s something Tony’s never done, but Peter feels like he’s melting. Tony’s skin is warm. His fingers are still just a little callused and scarred.

Tony must get the impression that he doesn’t like it, but before he can move away, Peter traps his hand there, bristling his smooth fingers against the still-present wrinkles of Tony's skin.

Would Ben still look exactly as Peter last remembers him? Dressed in a button down with that stupid Giants baseball cap that’s still buried in a box somewhere at May’s place? Would he be fully grey now, or would it still be that salt-and-peppering brown? Does he need his glasses here?

“He’s so proud of you. Seriously, Pete, hearing him talk about you…well, he sounds like me. Just a couple of old saps between the two of us, I guess.”

Tony is smiling, but Peter wants to see it, he wants to hear it. He wants Ben and he wants to keep Tony here and never let him go again.

Tony swipes a fallen tear from Peter’s cheek with his thumb.

“He knew I wasn’t really…satisfied with how we left things. I spent five years missing you and all I got was a hug before I…” Tony clears his throat, looking away uncomfortably.

All this time and the first snap still haunts Tony. All this time, and Peter still dreams of ash.

“He offered to look after Morgan for me instead, considering it’s a bit of an easier job. I’m hoping he can coast on easy mode until she hits her teen years.”

“I still get to see her, too—and Pepper. God, all of you in the same room at Christmas is just—“ He shakes his head reverently. “That’s my day. My perfect day. I never thought.”

“She misses you,” Peter says. He doesn’t want to be mad at Tony, but sometimes he is, and he knows that Morgan is getting old enough to forget more about her dad than she remembers. He tries to tell stories, tries to explain pictures and videos but it’s just…not the same. It’s not enough. It’s not what she deserves.

“I know. I miss her too. I can watch you guys all day, but talking to you,“ Tony shakes Peter’s shoulder. “Touching you…there’s no replacement for it. I’m watching her grow up, but I don’t get to be a part of it like I used to. It just—sucks.”

Tony sighs again, but seems to rejuvenate with it, clapping and turning the lights of the lab back on.

“But that’s not important right now. We’re here because of you.”

“Me? What—?”

“Don’t what me, Pete. The only reason you’re here with me right now is because you’re close enough to death. Your body is in a hospital bed in the compound because you were reckless, and I brought your mind here to snap you out of it before you take the final step to this side of the spiritual plane!”

It seems otherworldly, the idea of his body currently being separated from his mind. Supernatural. Definitely something he’d usually associate with Doctor Strange.

As for his possible death...he doesn’t remember it. His more recent memories seem lost in a fog, and the welcoming warmth of this place makes the loss of them feel a lot less important.

“You’ve been—god, you’ve been beating yourself up for months. Ever since Gwen Stacy died—“

“Don’t.” Peter swallows back a sudden lump in his throat. “Please, don’t.”

“You’ve been running from it for months.” Tony replies. “Peter, you’ve been running from your life for months. You broke up with Michelle when I know for a fact that you have a ring made for her in your underwear drawer, you let things fall out with Harry when you never blamed him for everything that happened with his father, you don’t go see Pepper and Morgan anymore—“

“Because they’re not safe!” Peter finds himself standing, suddenly, string-tense and angry.

Tony doesn’t look surprised at the outburst, just sad.

“Don’t you get it?! No one is safe around me! It doesn’t matter if they’re heroes or civilians! It’s my fault that Gwen died! It’s my fault that you—” Peter shakes his head. “I can’t let that happen to anyone else. I won’t.”

“Peter, it is not your fault that I used the infinity stones.”

Peter stares at the ground and thinks about all of the ways he could have changed what happened during the battle with Thanos. He could have made that sacrifice instead. Anyone else on the battlefield could have. Some of them had the power to do it and survive. But it was Tony that came up with the idea to build a gauntlet of his own into his suit, Tony that made that choice with exactly one thing on his mind.

“Pepper told me about the picture. She said that you’d spent all those years caring about me, that you only considered time travel because of me. That makes it my fault.”

“No,” Tony insists. “It was my choice. That’s it. You were an influence, yes, but not the only one. I wanted a better world for my entire family—I did it Morgan and Pepper too. I wanted the rest of the world to have their families back because I finally realized how much I treasured my own. You are not to blame for my decisions. Period.”

“That doesn’t change what happened with Gwen! With Doctor Octavious! With Beck!”

He doesn’t let Tony interrupt again.

“Every time I try and do the right thing, bad stuff happens to the people I care about. So I cut them all away and according to you, I still ended up almost dead.”

“That was the Green Goblin’s fault. He escaped the Raft and went on a revenge-fueled rampage against you. You were overwhelmed. If you had help—”

“I don’t want help!” Peter shouts. Tony is always trying to fix Peter’s problems, a habit Peter knows he shares from his attempts to constantly fix New York. Tony just can’t fix Peter—who he is, what his life does to the people he loves. It’s never going to stop. Peter’s never going to stop. Not while he’s alive and has the means to keep trying.

“Then what do you want?” Tony asks, standing up himself and taking Peter’s shoulder in his hand. “I just want to make things better, buddy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Tell me what I can do.”

Peter looks at Tony, thinking of all the mistakes he could have helped correct, every missed birthday and holiday.

“I want to stay here.”

There’s a clear beat of silence. Tony’s face morphs from empathetic softness to a hardened frown.

“Peter, no—“

“Yes! Out there I can’t stop myself from—ruining my life all the time, no matter what I do. I can’t be Spider-Man the way everyone wants me to, I can’t be Peter Parker because I am Spider-Man, and everyone is looking at me to lead Stark Industries when I don’t even work there anymore!”

Working at SI had been what he thought he was supposed to do. Go to MIT. Graduate. Work for Pepper. Fulfill the legacy. Make Tony proud. Make everyone proud. Be the smartest and Spider-Man and a good boyfriend all at the same time.

But then Gwen died and he was already struggling to fill his mentor’s shoes and he’d just—surrendered to the part of himself that always doubted, that could never reconcile Tony’s belief in him and the way he often saw himself.

“Here I could be with you and Ben and my parents,” Peter reasons. “Tony, I lost them when I was five! I could finally see them again—“

Peter grabs for Tony in an attempt to reason with him, but Tony shakes it off.

“Peter, this was supposed to be a mission to make you snap out of it. You’re teetering between dead and alive right now and you need to go back.”

“No, please,” Peter begs. “Please, Mister Stark, please. I want to go. I want to go with you. I don’t want to leave you again. Ever since you died everything’s been—everything just keeps going wrong. Maybe this is a sign. I can never make the right choices, maybe it’s time for me to—“

“No.” Tony is looking down at him, like Peter is fifteen and naive and the world would be so much simpler if only Peter would listen to Tony.

“Don’t you dare try to act like your life out there doesn’t matter, like this is the better option.” Tony shakes his head back and forth. “The point of this place is to be after your life. I know that you’ve been through a lot already, but you’re not done yet. You’re not.”

Peter buries himself into Tony’s chest, desperate. He grew taller in the last few years but here in this lab, in this place that doesn’t exist, he is the boy Tony remembers, the boy he misses getting to be.

“Please.”

“I’m sorry.” Tony echoes Peter’s last words on Titan, and he knows it, he must, to still be so affected by losing Peter in the first place. He keeps Peter encased in his arms, rubbing his back over and over in a soothing gesture.

“I’m sorry things have been so hard without me. I’m sorry that you’ve missed me so much, and that I can’t be there. I’m sorry that the only way I could figure out to save the world didn’t include saving myself.”

Tony pulls away slightly, enough so that he can catch Peter’s watery gaze.

“But Peter, that is no excuse to think your life should be over. You know I have always encouraged you to be more selfish. I spent so long telling you to go after the things you wanted—the parts of a normal life that you deserve—because you are an incredible, empathic, intelligent kid. But for once I am begging you to think about other people. You have responsibilities, Pete. You have people that love you down there. You know that.”

“And think of everything that’s happened to them because of me! I—I’ve given May more grey hairs than you, I’ve put MJ in danger—I’m the reason Harry’s dad went away! Without me…without Spider-Man…maybe they’d be better. Maybe this is what’s supposed to happen!”

Tony doesn’t respond to this, but Peter can read his face. He doesn’t believe Peter at all.

“Let me show you something.” It’s a complete diversion, and Tony relies on Peter’s silent surprise, leaving their loose embrace and tapping at a set of holograms in front of him until a feed appears.

It’s an alley.

Somehow, Peter knows it’s in New York. Maybe it’s all of the time he’s spent in dumpsters—both searching for old technology in his youth and getting his ass kicked into them—that allows him to recognize that.

It’s not the most interesting footage—the most activity on screen for a minute is a mangy tabby cat scampering by.

Then a masked man comes running by the camera, a leather purse in hand and darting glances behind him.

A string of familiar webbing comes on screen, followed by a lithe, masked figure whose body slams into the robber’s, knocking the man down before sticking him to the ground with a layer of webbing. The masked figure takes the purse and swings away, back toward the mouth of the alley.

“Tony, what is this?” Peter asks.

“That is Miles Morales. Fourteen. Brooklyn native. Remind you of anyone?” Tony rolls his eyes at Peter’s unamused face. “Yeah, you get it. Anyway, two months ago, Mister Morales was bit by another one of Oscorp’s freaky mutant spiders. He didn’t tell anyone, but when Spider-Man was put into a coma fighting the Green Goblin and he didn’t help…”

The clip loops again, repeating the swing and kick of Miles’ body slamming into the robber.

“He became Spider-Man.”

Tony nods. “A cheap copy, though, of course. Underoos 2.0, you might say.”

“Only you would.”

“Ouch,” Tony hums. “I’m just saying, without Spider-Man, without you, someone else is always going to step up. It might be Miles, or the Avengers, or that little group of vigilantes near Hell’s Kitchen…”

“Then you’re just proving my point, they don’t need me to—!”

Tony holds his hand up.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t still needed. You—Peter Parker, Spider-Man—are the person that knows the streets of New York’s boroughs better than anyone else. You’re the same person that helped take down Thanos and fought against Beck and the rest of his little Sinister Six friends. You’re the only Peter Parker that Michelle wants. You’re the only best friend that Ned Leeds wants. You’re the only nephew your Aunt May has. You’re Morgan’s only big brother, Petey."

The warmth that was surrounding Peter until that moment fades slightly. Here, the world that he came from seems so far away. It was easy to say he wanted to stay when the most important thing was right in front of him.

But Tony isn't the most important thing in Peter’s life. Peter's grief seemed to be important for years after. It felt heavy, all-consuming, a weight he was backpacking around on the top of all the good things because the world wouldn’t let him forget. From the murals and statues to Beck’s raging hunger for revenge, Peter felt the ache of Tony’s loss much like he had for Ben—acute and piercing his life with holes.

The thing is—Peter still grieves. All of Tony’s loved ones do. They wish he was there at birthdays and barbecues, reminisce about this story or that, tell Peter and Morgan of his love for them, his pride.

It just doesn’t hurt the same, these reminders. It doesn’t hurt as consistently. His sadness ebbs and flows, bleeds and stems, metaphors on metaphors on metaphors.

“You’re the only you that there is, kiddo," Tony continues. "You need to stop blaming yourself for everything that hasn’t worked out and start realizing that you’ve done a lot of things right. You’re allowed to grieve the past, but you can’t stay here. You need to move forward. That doesn’t have to mean letting go. It means taking us with you, and continuing to make us proud, just like you have been, even when everything is going wrong.”

Tony's eyes are expectant. He wants Peter to really listen to what he's saying, to believe it.

Peter nods, even as some part of him doesn't want to. Tony is right, and Peter is old enough to admit it, to want to believe it. Tony’s death is not as fresh as Gwen’s, and still newer than the death of his uncle, but he is allowed to hold his loss as he moves on from it. He knows that. He was trying for so long, but the losses kept piling up, and he’d forgotten because it was easier to wallow in his grief than try and recover for the umpteenth time.

It’s tiring.

As if Tony can see as much in Peter’s eyes—because he has seen it all, because he knows what Peter’s gone through without him all the time—he finishes his speech.

“Peter, I know you’re doubting yourself and your abilities. I know it’s hard. But you don’t need  someone else to fix that for you—not me, or Ben, or your parents. It’s okay to miss us—you know that we miss you. But you don’t need me around to be a great hero or a good person. You’re all of those things on your own.”

Tony puts a hand on Peter’s head, pulling back his curls and looking directly into his eyes. “But if you need the assurance…you’re everything I could have hoped for and more. I love you, and I’m so proud of you, okay? No matter what.”

"I still want to stay," Peter admits, his voice quiet. There's a difference in knowing he can't and wanting. It's a childish part of himself that he's allowing to be obstinate.

Tony only smiles, though, understanding when he admits, "And some part of me wants to keep you here. But it's not your time. Not yet, okay? You have apologies to make to a very pretty girl, an aunt that would break the rules of spacetime to kick my ass if you died in your twenties, a kid that needs your mentorship…"

"What if I get him killed?" Peter asks abruptly. He hadn't even considered what mentorship would mean, in the long run. "Tony, how many times did I almost die before I turned eighteen? I did die, on an alien world. How can I promise that won't happen to him?"

"You can't," Tony chuckles. "There are no guarantees in any part of life, kid, you know that. He could get taken down by a supervillain or a car in equal measure. But one way he's fighting for the city—for the people he believes in. One way makes him the hero that he is."

Tony shrugs. "That's why I never stopped you."

"You couldn't stop me."

"That too. But that fear? That's what is going to make you better. It made me better."

Peter nods, understanding. His fear for a kid he doesn't even know is just the same as Tony's fear was for him in the beginning.

But look at what grew out of that: he and Tony freakin' Stark, standing here in the afterlife filled with love for each other, planning to continue their lifelong legacy of work to make the world a better place.

Peter would argue that alone is worth it.

Peter steps forward, bringing Tony into another hug—a final hug. "I love you."

Tony's thumb finds the back of Peter's neck, gently stroking. "I love you too, kiddo."

"You'll keep watching over me? Just in case?"

"Of course. I'll let Ben take a turn too, invite your parents into the Spidey Protection Program."

"I'd really like that." He backs up to look at Tony. "And when May gets here, could you—"

"We'll take care of her." In exchange, Tony asks, "Can you tell Pepper and Morgan—oh, and Rhodey and Happy, and don't forget Bruce—"

"I'll tell everyone that you miss them. That you're waiting."

"Such a good kid," Tony remarks, running a hand through Peter’s hair again before landing to cup his cheek again, like he’s treasuring the new gesture before it’s taken from him. "Be safe...well, as much as you can. More family vacations and less hospital visits, okay?"

"Yeah, okay,” Peter agrees, twitching up a real smile through the last of his tears. “Goodbye, Tony."

"Bye, Pete. I'll see you soon. Just—not too soon! And I want to see any future grand-babies all the time, you hear me? No absentee fathering! And—"

The world around Peter grows blurred again, taking him out the same way he came in.

The sound of Tony’s voice echoes into the beeping of a heart monitor.

The ethereal warmth fades into the reality of cold air conditioning—a scratchy hospital blanket is the only shield from the cold. A tube is uncomfortably jammed down his throat.

The life in front of him is no more enticing than it was before, with Tony. It will be weeks spent in recovery despite his healing powers, groveling at Michelle’s feet to make up for leaving her in the first place, apology after apology to his aunt for not calling. He’ll owe Morgan at least a week at the cabin, if not more treats to be exploited from his wallet later. Most importantly—at the risk of Miles Morales’ life—he has to track down a reckless kid and try to teach him to be a better hero when Peter himself is a five alarm tire fire and a half.

But there is also a lot of life still out there that he doesn’t want to forget about:

Aunt May’s one and only good recipe—sweet potato pie. She always flits around their tiny apartment covered in flour and smelling of spices, slapping his hands away from the counter with a firm, “Don’t you dare.”

MJ’s drawings from years past taped to the walls of his bedroom, her unread stacks of hardcovers littering every empty surface, and the way she always stops reading to kiss him goodnight before he goes out on patrol.

Morgan and Pepper, the cabin, the memories he wants to forget and all of the new ones he’s made there next to his little pseudo-sister that have helped make her into the kind, empathetic kid that he would do anything for in a heartbeat.

Peter still has a lot to tell all of them, the words he promised Tony he’d relay.

Peter opens his eyes.

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

The Nearness of You [Part Three]

Read Part One Read Part Two

Summary: Bucky Barnes is haunted by a ghost of the past.  Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 2970 Warnings: Canon divergence, creative liberties, canon-typical violence, assassination, information that may not be accurate due to the aforementioned creative liberties and a lack of information on Google.  A/N: There will be at least one more part to this mini-series! Huge thanks to everyone who has read/liked/reblogged. I have a lot of pride in this piece and I’m happy to be able to share it with all of you! 

Years passed. Wars were waged, not only between countries and enemies, but between friends. Within the very inner workings of their own minds, never-ending wars were fought between the men they believed themselves to be and the men life had conditioned them to become. 

After Y/N disappeared, Bucky convinced himself that the mission with Steve, the one he had already agreed to be a part of, would bring her back. Not only did she remain out of his reach, but he nearly lost his own life. He wouldn’t know it until years later, but Steve put that huge ship into the ice and was gone, for a while. 

An entire lifetime of events had happened since the few kisses Bucky had gotten to share with Y/N. He’d lost an arm. Lost himself. Lost Steve. The latter two had been found again, but Y/N was the one thing that stayed missing. Bucky knew that if she hadn’t died at the hands of Zola, old age would have taken her by now. Ironic, thinking back on it; something he had never much believed in, played such a significant role in his life, but had been a part of him for such a brief moment in time. The impact, though, was lasting. 

Sparring with Steve now, for training purposes, Bucky could feel the pull on his soul that her memory often caused. It was as though someone was reaching into his chest and tugging out his very essence. The pull distracted him and gave Steve the upper hand. Next thing Bucky knew, he was on his back with Steve’s cocky smile staring him down. 

“Where’s your concentration today, Buck?” Steve asked, slightly breathless and slightly joking. He extended out a hand to help his friend up from the mat. 

Bucky accepted the gesture. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. Let’s go again.”

Steve looked unsure, but they hadn’t been training for long. With a shrug of his shoulder, he took up his stance a few feet from Bucky and the sparring began again. 

Three more takedowns had taken place — two for Steve, one for Bucky, finally — when the familiar AI voice came over the intercom. 

“Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY began, “your presence is requested in the main conference room.”

“Requested by who?” Steve frowned. 

“Director Fury.”

There was no questioning that. Grabbing a couple of towels from a shelf by the door, the two men did the best they could to wipe away the sweat worked up from their training exercises before joining Fury and, presumably, the others of the Avengers team, in the conference room. 

Only Fury was waiting for them, though, at the head of the table. On the projector screen, news coverage of the Cuban diplomat coming out of the United Nations headquarters. Within a few seconds, the man fell to the ground, his guards converging over him with guns drawn. Around them, visitors and staff and others in the area were running this way and that, trying to find cover. The frame paused there. 

“He was declared dead on the scene,” Fury informed them. “Considering the entry wound was roughly the diameter of your pointer finger and the exit would was that of a baseball, we’re assuming a sniper round killed him, but no slug and no casings were found anywhere within a reasonable radius of the assassination.”

Steve snorted. “Did you check outside of a reasonable radius?”

“Not yet,” Fury answered. “Here’s the information we’ve been debriefed on as of now. Unfortunately, even surveillance cameras didn’t catch anything. Following the trajectory of the bullet, they believe they know where the sniper was staged, but besides there being no casing and no bullet, there’s zero evidence — no tracks in the dust, nobody saw anything. Forensics dusted for gunpowder in the area where they believe the sniper shot from. Not a single fingerprint, epithelial cell, nothing.”

Bucky heard it all, but the pictures Fury supplied them with had his attention. He knew a bullet that could do that damage. He knew the disappearing act. 

“Someone with a sniper rifle came and went within shooting distance of the front door of the United Nations headquarters and isn’t seen, doesn’t leave a single ounce of evidence? Sure it wasn’t a ghost?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing as he reviewed over the information in front of him. 

Fury turned to the other man in the room. “Barnes?”

Steve raised his brow at his friend. “You think Bucky knows something about this?”

“He knows I do,” Bucky answered quietly. “This is Hydra, no doubt. Another Winter Soldier is my bet.”

“I thought Zemo put them all down?”

“So did I.”

Fury crossed his arms over his chest. “So did we all. Intelligence is working on it, digging into the oldest files we have, working to see what we can find. In the meantime, before I set the team on this, I’d like the two of you to check out the scene. The sooner we can figure this out, the better.”

Bucky exchanged a glance with Steve; his friend’s expression read concern. “It’ll be fine. It’s just recon, right?”

Steve pressed his lips into a thin line. “Right. We’ll go now, report back as soon as we can. Maybe keep backup available, in case.”

Fury left them to ready for their mission. Steve looked at Bucky again, standing from his chair. 

“Buck, if this is too much, we can get someone else.”

“No, it’s fine,” Bucky assured. “It should be me. I’ll recognize the signs, if they’re there. I’m good.”

Steve didn’t look convinced. Even after a lengthy stay in Wakanda, he knew that the old memories sometimes took a toll on his friend. If Bucky said he was good though, there was nothing for Steve to argue. 

Once they were cleaned up and in street clothes, Bucky and Steve went together to the UN headquarters to scout out, well, anything they could find. Intel told them that a building roughly half a mile from the entrance of the building was where the shooter was believed to have set up for the shot. 

“The building stopped the bullet,” Steve observed, pointing to a crater in the cement wall, “but who picked it up after all was said and done?”

Bucky tilted his head. “No one on our side, apparently. Fury said there was nothing found.”

“Doesn’t make sense. Made out with a sniper rifle, made out with the slug, right on the crime scene. But no one saw anything.”

“Someone knows how to blend in.” He squinted his eyes and looked closer. “Hey, Steve — you see what I see?”

Steve leaned closer, looking at a piece of material glinting in the afternoon sun. It was buried deep in the cement, almost undetectable. 

Shrapnel. Bucky reached a gloved hand into the crate and carefully dug out the piece. Steve provided a small, brown envelope for them to drop the piece into, and they decided from there to find the rooftop from where the shot had been fired. 

“So the assassin would have to go into the building — no way up or down on the outside. Unless they climbed. Not much fun, not too easy with the weight of a rifle.” Steve opened the front door of the building, casually milling around the shop to avoid suspicion of any more serious activity. 

“If they’re trained, that’s nothing more than busywork,” Bucky commented, following Steve inside. 

The two of them walked around the shop for a few minutes, before Bucky saw a staircase at the back of the shop. He managed to get Steve’s attention and nodded toward the staircase. Steve nodded his understanding and struck up a conversation with the shop owner so that Bucky could investigate without being detected. 

Too many flights of stairs landed him at a metal door. Through the small window in the door, Bucky could see the vents on top of the roof. As quietly as possible, noting the rusted hinges, Bucky pushed the door open. The air up here was warmer, naturally, but the view was nearly perfect — he could see for miles. The UN building was a faint sight near the horizon, but with the right scope, Bucky figured a shot from here wouldn’t be so difficult. 

He walked over the rooftop, his eyes searching out even the tiniest clue — like the sun glinting off that piece of shrapnel — that would tell him if this had been another Winter Soldier or not. Nick had told them forensics couldn’t find a thing, and now he understood why. The whole rooftop had been cleared; only the dust that could have settled in the last hours since the assassination were present. The paint on the building was chipped, the brick of the long-since-used chimney was cracked. 

“Everything else is neglected, but all the dirt and dust is swept up. Doesn’t make sense,” he muttered out loud.

If a grappling hook had left marks, it was too difficult to tell them apart from the cracks and chips the years had wrought upon the building. He made a mental note to ask Fury if any air vehicles had been noted in the area; maybe the assassin had been dropped in and picked back up. It was unlikely a helicopter that close would have gone undetected by the employees or customers in the shop, but stranger things had happened. At least it would give them some information. 

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and meandered over to the chimney. Not a drop of soot or ash around it, though he remembered the fireplace at his parents’ house back in the day keeping the remnants of a fire until someone cleaned it up. That sort of thing didn’t just disappear. It was only more evidence that someone had cleaned up anything that might be left behind, though, didn’t tell him anything new. 

Close to giving up, Bucky checked out the last bit of the rooftop on the other side of the chimney, for good measure. Still not finding anything, he began to wonder if this was even the right place where the shooter had been. Maybe the clean-up had happened as a decoy, something to throw everyone off the trail. 

And then he saw it: the one brick out of place in the chimney. The breakaway was clean, too clean. Licking his lips, his brow furrowed with puzzlement, he pushed one end of the brick. The opposite side gave way, allowing Bucky to carefully move the brick out of its spot. In the opening that was left behind, a casing and a sniper slug were waiting. 

His heart raced in his chest as he took both pieces, shaking them in his palm once before replacing the brick and putting the pieces in his jacket pocket. He had all he needed now. Well, enough to be of some help, anyway. 

Back in the shop, he cleared his throat. “Hey, buddy, you ready to get outta here? I’m starving.”

Steve looked up. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for the tips on bargain shopping, Mrs. Rittmiller.”

They both smiled and waved at the woman before heading out of the shop. Steve waited until they were almost a full block down before he asked. 

“You found something?” 

“Yeah, you could say that,” Bucky replied. “We’ve got to get back to the compound. I’m done looking for today.”

This time, the whole team assembled in the conference room. Bucky sat nervously in his chair. This was going to lead to a fight; it always led to a fight. This new information in particular, however, was going to lead him right back to a fight he thought he had let go of after coming home from Wakanda. Those days were supposed to all be behind him.

“Soviet sniper slug,” Natasha observed, then met eyes with Steve. “Sound familiar?”

“It’s how we tracked Bucky when — how we tracked the Winter Soldier.”

Bucky leaned forward on the table. “It led you to me, I get it. It’s all right. But, that’s only part of what’s important about this. When I was in Siberia, the guards would talk about another soldier — someone I assumed was another soldier. Whatever high-priority jobs I didn’t do, it was this guy. Got in and out meticulously, without leaving any evidence behind, except for one thing, no one ever managed to find. The guy would retrieve the casing and the bullet from every kill, bury it either near the sniper stage or near where the victim had fallen, if possible.”

“Too much foot traffic to do that in front of the UN,” Nick noted. 

Bucky swallowed. “But behind a brick in an old chimney on top of the building where the shot was fired from? A rooftop that’s hardly ever accessed? Judging by the upkeep, I’d guess it’s been months if not a couple, three years since someone’s been up there. Really, the brick being out of place came down to the details. If I wouldn’t have noticed, I doubt anyone ever would have.”

Tony Stark looked skeptical. “How come we’ve never heard of this other guy? You put him out of a job, or what?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky sighed, “I only know that he was never in Siberia, not when I was. We never crossed paths, I mean. The guards, they called him The Ghost.”

“Another ghost story,” Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are we sure this is the same person? Not a copycat, or even a newly-risen Hydra division that’s created a copycat?”

“I don’t think so.” Bucky stood from his chair and lifted his hands momentarily before letting them slap back down against his thighs. “I’ve told you what I know. You let me know when you decide what to do about it.”

He walked away from the conference room after that. The tension in his muscles was becoming too much, and he needed time to breathe. Needed time to sort out what it meant to potentially be back in the middle of all of this again.  

In his room, he pulled a shoe box out from under his bed and set it on the mattress next to him. He opened the lid and took out the contents: old letters from his parents while he had been overseas, newspaper clippings from Steve’s first ridiculous performances as Captain America. Pictures from his youth, a few greeting cards his mother had saved. 

At the bottom was the thing he had come here to find. A picture of him with Y/N, standing outside the medical tent at the camp where they had met. Bucky had been clever about the picture, claiming he wanted a picture with her to send to his mother to show who had stitched him up after the fight. He had his arm around her, and she smiling at the camera. It was a natural smile; Bucky remembered that she had been laughing at something he said right before the picture was taken. He was looking at her, smiling and so delighted with the fact that he had made her smile, brought her some little morsel of happiness. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear her laughter. 

“How’d you manage to keep that?” 

Bucky looked up from the picture to see Steve leaning in the doorway. “Ma. They sent all my belongings to her after the fall from the train. It got passed around to some different places, but Fury tracked this box down for me. This picture was at the bottom. I don’t look at it often, but sometimes …” Bucky let out a breath. “Sometimes seeing her is the only thing that helps me calm down. This is the only way to do that.”

It wasn’t the same as seeing her in person, but remembering what that calm had been like, it was enough to pull him back from the edge. Steve offered some comforting words, about how Y/N had been brave enough to go after Bucky, and he knew she would be incredibly proud of everything Bucky had overcome. 

Bucky tossed the picture back in the box before piling the other things on top of it and replacing the lid on the box. “What’s the move, Captain?”

Steve hesitated to tell his friend at the moment, but there was never gonna good time to tell him that the decision had been made to go after The Ghost. 

“And we’re sure it’s not me?” 

Steve frowned. “What? Buck, of course it’s not you. How could it be?”

“I don’t know, man. I’ve done a lot of shit. I got wiped God knows how many times. Maybe The Ghost is just another persona Hydra put in my brain and buried deep down in there, where even Shuri couldn’t get to it.”

“It’s not possible,” Steve assured. “You were with me, training when it happened. All of that is on the compound’s cameras. Not one person here has had a passing thought that maybe it was you. All right? You’re a good man, I know that. I’ve always known that. Y/N knew that. The rest of them know that, now.”

Bucky didn’t say anything; he didn’t know what to say. A part of him had hoped they could explore the possibility that he was The Ghost, stall finding another lost soul for a while. The thought of looking into someone else’s eyes and seeing the pain and misery that he had dealt with for so long was almost more than he could think to bear. 

For that reason, a few days later, when enough intel had come in on a possible location for The Ghost, Bucky tucked the picture of Y/N inside his jacket before loading onto the quinjet. 

Part Four

Tags: @captain-s-rogers​​​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​​​ @jackryanplz​​​ @xtina2191​​​ @shynara51​​​ @captain-rogers-beard​​​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​​ @pinknerdpanda​​​

[ablogcalledrevenge]

Do Androids Enjoy Paris? (An Ash x Reader Insert Fic, Rated T)

It’s decades later when you find him. He’s in surprisingly good shape for being almost 50 years old. When you run a diagnostics check on him days later, you’re almost touched to see how well he was taken care of. Yearly upgrades and tune-ups, expanded memory chip, barely any wear or tear on the joints or internal wiring. He could be a museum piece, he was so well kept. And now he was yours.

So what does one do when they’re suddenly gifted with an android copy of an unknown dead man?

Take him to see the world.

When you bought the house from Kate’s mom, you didn’t really understand what the Ash Clause referred to. According to the contract, you just had to maintain the Ash model for the length of ownership. When you asked your friend what Ash was, she chuckled and shook her head.

“Oh wow, I haven’t thought about him in years. He’s like this weird robot my grandma had. I think I saw him once. He was kind of like a memory bank, I think he would do some cleaning.” She said and you shrugged. You could take care of a sentient vacuum.

But when you finally get to the little house, you don’t see any robot. You find a vacuum, covered in dust, but very little else. It isn’t until your third night that you meet Ash.

You’re in bed, trying to fall asleep. You’re not used to the countryside and you had been staring at your phone right before trying to sleep, which you know is bad. You’re in that hazy almost dreaming phase when you hear a thud from above. You freeze in your bed, suddenly terrified that a monster is going to come crashing through the roof and eat you.

Instead, you hear the sound of a chair being pushed across the floor above you. There’s nothing above you but the roof, you’re on the second floor. The house is just two floors and an attic. Your stomach drops and you let out a shaky breath. There’s someone in the attic.

Grabbing your phone and a frying pan from the kitchen, you carefully pull down the steps to the attic. All the noise stops and you preemptively dial 999 in case there’s a murderer up there and you need to call the police. Your finger hovers over the button as light floods down over you.

The attic is small but decorated with furniture. There’s a plush rug under your toes and a nice coffee table with soft squishy looking chairs around it. There’s a computer plugged in and a rack of clothes. Does someone live up here? Did Kate forget to tell you about a renter?

You hear a throat clear and you whirl around, holding your frying pan out like a weapon. The person you see isn’t scary, he isn’t holding a gun or anything, but you still scream in surprise.

“No please, don’t scream. I’m not dangerous I promise!” He assures you, stepping forward as you leap back. You fall into one of the armchairs and it knocks the breath out of you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m Ash. Didn’t Kate or Indira tell you about me? I know you bought the house.” He says, kneeling in front of you to perhaps seem less threatening. It worked a little and you slowly felt your heart return to a normal rhythm.

“They just told me I had to maintain an Ash model. I was expecting a cleaning robot, not a person!” You shoot back, once you find your voice. You haven’t lowered your frying pan. At that, Ash ducks his head bashfully. He doesn’t flush or turn red though, like a person would. He also hasn’t blinked since you noticed him.

“That’s me. I’m the Ash model. I’m an android technically though. This is where I stay.” He says with a note of resigned acceptance, sweeping his arm out over his humble abode. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Why are you up here? Why do I have to take care of you? You look kind of familiar, have we met before?” You ask, ignoring his identity for a moment, as he sits down on the couch across from you. Despite it being 2 in the morning, he dressed like he’s going to work. He’s wearing dark slacks with a blue button down shirt; he’s even got shoes on!

“It’s a bit of a long story.” Ash says and he explains it all to you. As the time passes, you listen as Ash reveals family secret after family secret. You find yourself staring at the pulled skin of Ash’s knuckles or the way the light shines across his multi-shaded hair. He’s a feat of engineering, that was for sure. Androids weren’t super rare in society, though they were uncommon. Androids took the place of people when it involved inhospitable environments or testing reactions to new drugs. Androids couldn’t feel pain but they could mimic the human body’s reaction. They were essential in the field of science and medicine. Which made it all the stranger that Kate’s grandma just had one.

It’s a sad story to be sure. Losing a loved one is never easy and grief can make people do crazy things. Now you know why Ash’s face looks vaguely familiar to you. You’ve seen his face in an old wedding photo of Kate’s grandparents. But then the passage of time actually sinks in. Kate, like you, is in her late 20s. Martha was her grandma! Ash has been up here for decades, sitting alone and getting sent to a facility once a year for upgrades. Martha’s been dead for 5 years now and the house has been empty. Kate mentioned that she hadn’t seen Ash since she was a little kid. 

“So you’ve just been alone for all this time? Hasn’t anyone visited you?” You ask, incredulously. Mrs. Portman was his daughter! Well, sort of, not really.

“Yes. Indira comes to visit sometimes, usually when I have to get upgraded. We talk and she has tea and it’s very nice. But other than that, no. She stopped seeing me on weekends when she left for school. I assumed she was busy living her own life. After that Martha stopped coming up as well. I think it bothered her that she was aging and I wasn’t. I never minded though, I don’t care about that sort of thing. Do you want tea?” The change of subject does little to distract you. All you can think of is the clause in your lease contract. 

“You realize that I own the house now, I bought it from Mrs. Portman. You were part of the contract I signed. I’m supposed to take care of you. I own you. Doesn’t that bother you? You’re being passed down like a family heirloom!” You point out, shaking your head as Ash offers you tea. You don’t think he can drink it and it seems rude to use up his supply. 

“Why should it? Martha wanted to take care of me. I have a nice life up here. I have the internet and I get to see people sometimes. There’s not much I need.” He says simply and your heart breaks for him. 

“But Martha’s dead! She’s dead and you’re still here! Don’t you see how cruel that is? She’s allowed to die and be at peace and, depending on your belief system, finally be with her Ash. But instead of shutting you down, she’s kept you running. There’s no reason. It’s not like Mrs. Portman has really interacted with you in years. So why are you still running? Don’t you deserve some peace?”

Ash pauses and looks at you. It’s strange, but he seems almost sad. AI technology has come a long way, but his ability to mimic sadness is honestly amazing.

“Martha’s dead?” His voice sounds hollow and you get up and join him on the couch. 

“Yes, she died five years ago. You weren’t told?” You reach over and grab his hand. It’s cool to the touch but very soft. It feels like skin, though you know it’s synthetic. He feels human.

“No, I wasn’t told. I always assumed that when she died, I’d either go live with Indira or I’d be shut down. I didn’t think she’d keep me running with no purpose.” He sighs and his chest doesn’t move.

“Maybe she couldn’t bear the thought of you dying. Maybe she thought Indira would want you in her life. I don’t know. But what I do know is that we’re here and we’re together now. I signed that contract and I’m going to take care of you. But you get to decide what that means. If you want to stay up here and be left alone, I can do that. But if you want to be shut down, I understand and I can do that too.” You promise and he looks at you. His eyes are beautiful and wet, hazy blue and light green mixed together and piercing into your soul. You’re in awe of how his eyes bore into you.

“I don’t know what I want. I’ve been up here so long. I was only made for a few things. I don’t have wants or needs besides basic maintenance.” He says shakily.

“Well, now’s the time to figure it out.” You whisper in the quiet of the attic. The smile he gives you is blinding in it’s sincerity and joy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You go to Paris first, walking along the Seine in the summer. You show Ash all the artwork he’s only ever seen through a screen, watch him embrace the human condition as he marvels at a Monet and shakes his head at a Picasso. He doesn’t tan like you do but after giving a little boy back his ball by the Carrousel du Louvre, he has a riot of freckles across his shoulders that match the toddler’s. 

He does that a lot; change his appearance as he meets people. He has a mole on his clavicle that disappears occasionally. He can’t seem to decide if he wants it or not. You don’t care either way, you tell him he’s beautiful at least once an hour. He responds back in kind and while someone else would take that as a lie; he’s an android so what could he know about human beauty, you beam at the words. You figure he’s probably objective so the small words are taken as the compliment they’re intended to be.

The only weird parts are when you need to eat and sleep. It’s strange at first to go to a cafe and eat in front of him. He always tastes things but he never swallows, politely spitting it out in his napkin. He doesn’t have taste buds, he can’t enjoy the bouquet of flavors you bring to his lips every breakfast, lunch, or dinner; but despite that he always asks to try. You can see how desperately he wants to be human so you humor him and let him try your crepes.

He doesn’t sleep, though he will lay down in bed with you. He makes no sounds and only mimics breathing to keep you from feeling uncomfortable. Eventually you ask him to stop. You’ve always hated noise when you’re trying to sleep and it’s nice to be held by something that doesn’t snore in your ear or drool on you.

“I can if you want me to.” Ash teases one morning and you throw a pillow at him. His laugh sounds like triumph.

You’re walking along the Pont des Arts, Notre Dame in the distance and vanilla ice cream in your hand.  The stroll is leisurely and even, Ash swinging your hands as you tread across the wooden boards. You’re going to Italy next and then maybe Spain. He’s decided he wants to see the world and you’re only too happy to show him.

He stops and rests his arm on the railing, the wind ruffling his hair back. You lay your head on his shoulder which is warm through his linen shirt.

“Would you want to have sex?” He asks suddenly and you almost drop your ice cream in the river. You pull back to look at him, your face pink.

“I just know that when couples travel together they usually have sex. I can have sex, I have the equipment for it. I’ve done it before.” He says and his tone is so casual and even. In perhaps an ironic twist, you’re the one who feels like they’re short circuiting. You eat some ice cream while you try to come up with an answer.

“Ash, I think you’re so handsome and I love the time we spend together. I enjoy sleeping next to you in bed and holding your hand. But sex isn’t the same as that. Kissing isn’t the same as that. I would love to kiss you and have sex and make this relationship more physical but I want that for the right reasons. I want to have sex with you because you want to, not because you think we should. Not because studies show couples have sex on holiday or because you did it before.” You counter, squeezing his hands.

“It’s hard for me to want things. I don’t think the way you do.” He reminds you. You give him a soft smile and step back to throw away your ice cream. Your hand is cold against his cheek but he doesn’t react. Not the way a human would.

“I know Ash and that’s okay. I don’t mind if our relationship never turns physical, if it doesn’t look like other relationships. I enjoy spending time with you and I care about you. It’s okay to not want something.” You assure him but instead of looking relieved, he looks angry.

“But I should! I want to want things the way you do, the way normal people do! I watch everyone go through life, experiencing the world and they feel things. I don’t feel things and it’s not fair!” He yells. People walking by look at you but you don’t pay them any attention.

“But you do feel things, I know you do. You don’t like the BeeGees. You prefer wearing blue over any other color. When we went to the museum, you said you liked Monet over Manet. Those are opinions, those are feelings. Sure, they might not work the same way mine do, but human beings are all so different. We all see the world in different ways and I’m sure there’s someone out there who thinks the way you do. You may not be able to eat the food you try, but you still want to try it. That’s feelings.” You say before leaning forward and kissing him softly. 

His lips are soft and dry and if you close your eyes, which you do, it’s like kissing a real person. You pull back and notice his eyes are closed as well. Your heart thumps against your ribcage.

“I don’t need to kiss or have sex to function properly. But that was nice. It was soft and it made you happy. Seeing you happy makes me happy. I know that sex is something couples do to show their affection and I want to do that for you. I want to make you happy in that way. I want to kiss you and have sex and be like a normal couple.” He says definitely, pulling you into a hug. He’s very good at hugs but you make a mental note to have him look up asexuality when this is done. It’s not a perfect comparison but it might help him feel better.

“Okay Ash, when we get back to the hotel, we’ll have sex. But until then, let’s just explore. Want to see Notre Dame today?” You agree, your hand sliding down his forearm to mesh between his fingers. This time he leans down and kisses you. It’s still a little stiff but you’ll teach him. He wants to learn. Pulling away, continue your walk down the bridge and onto the street. 

“Yes, I would like that.” He smiles, and you fall in love.

Tagging @babbushka because she asked so nicely lol.

[applekitty]

psmd rewritten expedition society character things

ampharos:

used to have a kid who liked to explore mystery dungeons. key word being used to

his kid isnt DEAD you guys its a pokemon game. that mf’er is lost and he cant find them

this is derived from when in chapter 12 or so partner and hero are being talked about by mawile and ampharos, and mawile says to keep a close eye on them and ampharos says something to the likes of ‘dont worry i wont let it happen again’ or whatever

was actually VERY resistant to hero and partner joining the society, unlike in the game. only when hero and partner save him from the poliwrath brothers does he reconsider this. 

his clumsiness and ease of getting lost basically translates to him taking forever on dungeons. he’s a character who just does ‘whatever he wants’ in terms of ai on floors. the rest of the society tries not to resent him for wandering off so often, but it sometimes leads to tension in particularly challenging dungeons.

mawile:

has lived / second or first hand experienced all previous pmd games. she knows exactly what happened from rescue team to gti and she does not want to see it happen again. because of her trauma, she’s a bit more shut off and calculated about things. she usually uses tough love to communicate that she really, REALLY cares about people and doesnt want them to get hurt. 

can you tell my mental illness is showing

mawile is an ex-dungeon mon. she was born and raised in a dungeon and was recruited into a rescue team and lived in a friend area up until the rescue team disbanded and she decided she want to go her own.

her love for archeology is inspired a lot by the fact that she just generally wants to know more about the world around her. she thinks the better she can understand natural disasters of the past, the better she can help handle the ones in the future or the present.

buizel:

ex-pirate turned guild member. quagsire (from gti) fixed him up REAL good after he was done with him. he still retains a cartoonish accent, and also likes to talk about the ‘good ol days’ out on the sea with his pals.

buizel doesn’t actually like the kids. like at ALL. he thinks they’re a chore and he’s CONSTANTLY on their case for even like, EXISTING in the society. the few times he’s not complaining about these kids is when he’s flat out ignoring them

this is resolved when they beat up entei for him. only somewhat though, then his respect is gotten but he’s still a bit rough and grumpy around the edges

bunnelby:

the most boring of the group. grew up in a underground society (like, actually underground not unknown) at a normal house with normal parents. he decided to be a geologist because like, what else are you gonna be, y’know?

probably the least chaotic and well adjusted person in the entire society, but that’s mostly because he was really sheltered. his mental health is okay.. for now

swirlix:

the same bc swirlix is just like that lol

dedenne: 

MAD SCIENTIST AESTHETIC!!! WHERES THE TESLA COILS!???

has been working off the grid for most of her life, but now that she’s with the society her research on cross-world communication has EXPLODED. she is the creator of the pokemon nexus, the communication orb, and a lot of the gadgets! if something needs fixing, you either come to her or you go and find jirachi

she and jirachi get into a LOT of fights over who’s smarter of the two of them. she asserts that her engineering is pushing the boundary of modern technology, while he says that he could run circles around her in his sleep.

it’s a healthy rivalry, and it keeps the both of them preoccupied and constantly trying to one-up eachother. which means lots of progress on new inventions

jirachi:

jirachi, after being wished on by bidoof, had the idea of coming out more into public. he was moved by bidoof’s heart, and after sleeping on it, decided to move in with the society so he could do more than just grant wishes and sleep. 

he has a strong connection with stars, and ever since he moved in with the society, he’s been more well in contact with legendary and mythical pokemon than ever before. he doesnt like to talk about his relationship with other legendaries very much, mostly because he’s an introvert. he just doesn’t have a lot to say

he cannot use wishes on himself. no matter how much he tries. someone else has to wish on him, and even then, it’s monkey’s paw.

his genius seems to be ‘natural’. he thinks this is because he is a mythical pokemon and has lived for dozens of years. though, he can’t remember most of his life because he was asleep for a lot of it.