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urdreamydoodles · 2 months ago

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X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

A chaotic night at the carnival with your boyfriend (Part.1)

You and your boyfriend embark on a chaotic carnival adventure, where their unique personalities lead to unpredictable situations.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Warren Worthington III, Bobby Drake, Pietro Maximoff, Wade Wilson & Cable

Let's forget mutant rac*sm for one night, 'kay? No humans looking you weird because of who you are. These headcanons are pure joy.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

- Logan wasn’t exactly the carnival type. When he suggested taking you to one, you weren’t sure what had gotten into him. But there you were, walking hand-in-hand with him through the bustling crowd of people, the scent of popcorn and fried food filling the air. His rough exterior clashed humorously with the colorful surroundings, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he grumbled every time someone bumped into him or a ride screeched too loudly. He glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

- “You are,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “This doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

- Logan grunted but gave a small smirk. “Figured you might like it. And besides, could use a little break from the usual crap.”

- You smiled at his thoughtfulness, squeezing his hand. You weren’t sure how long the peace would last, though, knowing Logan’s knack for attracting trouble. As if on cue, you spotted a strength-testing game nearby, the kind with the hammer and the bell at the top. Logan’s eyes narrowed as he noticed it too, and you instantly knew what was coming.

- “Wanna give it a try, tough guy?” you teased, already imagining the chaos this could cause.

- “Oh, I’m doin’ it,” Logan growled, determination in his voice as he dragged you over to the booth. The carnival worker looked a little too confident, like he’d never seen someone like Logan in his life. Logan picked up the hammer with ease, spinning it in his hands before positioning himself in front of the game.

- “You sure about this?” you asked, giggling at the way he sized up the machine like it was his next battle. But before you could say anything else, Logan swung the hammer down with full force. The bell didn’t just ring—it practically flew off the top of the pole with a loud clang, leaving the carnival worker standing there, slack-jawed.

- People around the game burst into laughter and applause, while Logan just shrugged and handed the hammer back like it was nothing. “Cheap machine,” he muttered, as if it had been a weak challenge. You couldn’t stop laughing, your sides aching as you tried to catch your breath.

- The carnival worker, still stunned, offered you both a giant stuffed bear as a prize. “For your troubles,” he said, eyeing Logan warily. You gladly accepted the bear, knowing Logan wasn’t the type to care about prizes.

- As you walked away, you leaned into Logan, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “You broke the carnival.”

- “Wasn’t my fault,” he grumbled, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. “Damn thing wasn’t built right.”

- Despite the chaotic start, the night continued with more laughs as Logan tried his best to blend in. He won you a few more prizes, though you could tell he was holding back on most of the games, trying not to cause too much destruction. The bumper cars were another story, though. The moment Logan got behind the wheel, all bets were off. He went after anyone who came close, slamming into other cars with a grin that told you he was enjoying this way too much.

- When the night ended, you were both loaded down with stuffed animals and prizes. “Well, that was… something,” you said, glancing up at Logan. He looked more relaxed than you’d seen him in a while, and despite the chaos, you were glad you had come.

- Logan gave you a sideways look, his hand finding yours again. “Yeah, it was somethin’,” he agreed. “But don’t think I’ll be doin’ this every week.”

- You laughed, pulling him close for a kiss. “Maybe once in a while. Just for fun.”

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

- “You ready for dis, chérie?” Remy asked, his grin wide as he led you through the carnival entrance. His excitement was contagious, and you found yourself getting caught up in the lights and sounds, despite knowing that anything involving Remy was bound to lead to some kind of trouble. He held your hand loosely, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he scanned the carnival with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

- “Ready for what, exactly?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You knew better than to expect a quiet night when it came to Remy. The man thrived on chaos and fun, and carnivals were like his personal playground.

- “Everything!” Remy said dramatically, sweeping his arm to gesture at the carnival games, rides, and food stalls. “We gon’ win every prize, eat everythin’, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll take you up on dat Ferris wheel.”

- You laughed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos Remy was about to unleash. He dragged you toward the game booths first, eyeing the ring toss with a suspicious amount of confidence. “How ‘bout we start with somethin’ easy?”

- Remy tossed a few rings with the finesse of someone who had probably spent his life perfecting sleight of hand tricks. He made it look effortless, hitting the targets every time. The game worker handed you a small stuffed animal as a prize, but Remy wasn’t satisfied.

- “Non, non, I got more in me,” he said with a wink, flipping a coin in his fingers as he eyed the larger prizes. You tried to pull him away, knowing what was coming, but it was too late. Remy wasn’t playing fair anymore. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed a ring that glowed faintly with kinetic energy, sending it perfectly onto one of the highest-scoring targets.

- The worker’s eyes widened, clearly confused by how Remy had managed that, but he handed over the grand prize—a ridiculously large stuffed tiger. “Here you go,” he said, casting Remy a suspicious look.

- “Merci, mon ami,” Remy said smoothly, handing the tiger to you with a flourish. “For you, ma belle.”

- You could only shake your head, trying to hold back your laughter. “You cheated,” you whispered, though you couldn’t help but smile at the way he was grinning like a kid who had gotten away with something.

- “Just a lil’ help,” Remy said, shrugging as he slung his arm around your shoulders. “Dat’s the fun, non?”

- The night continued in much the same way. Remy charmed his way through every booth, somehow managing to win every game despite the odds. He even convinced you to go on the Ferris wheel with him, though the moment the wheel started turning, he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “You scared of heights, chérie?”

- “Not until you said that,” you muttered, gripping the safety bar a little tighter. Remy laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as the Ferris wheel carried you both up to the top. From there, the chaos of the carnival seemed far below you, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

- That was until you got off the Ferris wheel and Remy decided to try his luck at one last game—a dart-throwing booth. “Watch dis,” he said confidently, picking up the darts. You watched, amused, as he tossed the first dart with perfect precision. It hit the target dead center, earning him another prize.

- But as Remy lined up his second dart, someone bumped into him, causing him to miss the target completely. The dart hit the edge of the booth and sent one of the stuffed animals flying into the air.

- The game worker let out a startled yell, and before you knew it, Remy was laughing so hard he could barely stand. “Oops,” he said, though you could tell he wasn’t sorry at all.

- You grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the booth before things got worse. “I think that’s enough chaos for one night.”

- Remy flashed you a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Ah, but you had fun, didn’t you?”

- You couldn’t deny it. “Yeah, I did. But next time, maybe we try something a little less… explosive.”

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

- “Zis is amazing!” Kurt exclaimed as he looked around the carnival, his excitement contagious. His tail flicked back and forth as he took everything in—the lights, the music, the people. You smiled at his enthusiasm, knowing that Kurt’s childlike wonder could turn even the most ordinary event into something magical. But you also knew that wherever Kurt went, chaos was never far behind.

- “It’s just a carnival, Kurt,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile at how happy he looked. “You act like you’ve never been to one before.”

- Kurt grinned, his fangs peeking out in that charming way that always made your heart skip a beat. “Ja, but every time is like ze first time when you’re with me, mein Schatz.”

- You rolled your eyes but let him lead you through the crowd, his arm wrapped around your waist protectively. You could already see him eyeing the different carnival games with curiosity, and you knew it was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

- The first sign of chaos came when Kurt spotted a haunted house attraction. His eyes lit up, and before you could protest, he had already bought tickets and was dragging you inside. “Zis vill be fun!” he promised, his tail curling in excitement.

- The haunted house was dark, and cheap jump scares popped out from every corner. Despite knowing they were fake, you still jumped every time something came at you. Kurt, on the other hand, was having the time of his life, laughing at every skeleton or ghoul that leaped out from the shadows. His hand remained on your lower back, guiding you through the twisting hallways, but you noticed his tail twitching in anticipation.

- Just as you both rounded a corner, a particularly loud scream echoed through the room, followed by a life-sized animatronic zombie lunging toward you. Without thinking, Kurt instinctively "bamfed"—disappearing into a cloud of smoke and reappearing right in front of the zombie. “Ach! You scared mein Schatz!” he exclaimed dramatically, holding out his hands as if scolding the fake creature.

- You burst into laughter, doubling over as Kurt’s display turned into a full-fledged performance, complete with mock outrage. “You realize it’s not real, right?” you said, trying to catch your breath between giggles.

- “Real or not, I vill not stand for zis disrespect!” Kurt said, grinning as his tail curled around your wrist. He gave a wink before "bamfing" again, appearing just behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

- As the haunted house continued, Kurt couldn’t resist teleporting around, jumping ahead to surprise you or appearing beside some of the animatronics to “challenge” them to a duel. By the time you reached the exit, both of you were breathless from laughter, and the haunted house employees were giving Kurt curious, amused looks.

- “Zat vas wunderbar!” Kurt declared, pulling you close for a quick kiss. “Ve should do zat again, ja?”

- “Maybe without the bamfing next time,” you teased, though you couldn’t deny how much fun it had been.

- The rest of the night continued in much the same way. Kurt’s excitement was infectious, and he couldn’t help but teleport around the carnival, grabbing prizes for you and whisking you off to different booths. At one point, he even teleported both of you onto the Ferris wheel, much to the operator’s confusion.

- As the night came to a close, Kurt wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both watched the fireworks light up the sky. “Danke, mein Liebling,” he whispered, his tail wrapping around your wrist gently. “For making zis night perfect.”

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

- Scott had insisted on going to the carnival with a plan. A structured plan. “We’ll hit the games first, then maybe the rides, and after that, we can grab some food,” he said confidently, holding a map of the carnival in one hand as he walked beside you. You couldn’t help but laugh at how seriously he was taking it, but that was just Scott.

- “You know, you can relax a little,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “It’s a carnival, not a mission.”

- Scott gave you a half-smile, adjusting his sunglasses. “I just want to make sure we get to do everything. There’s a lot to cover.”

- You appreciated his effort, but you knew Scott’s love of structure would inevitably clash with the chaos of the carnival. It didn’t take long for things to spiral. The first sign of trouble came when you reached the ring toss booth. Scott, ever the perfectionist, was determined to win you one of the giant stuffed animals. After missing a few rings, though, you could see the frustration building in his expression.

- “I don’t get it,” he muttered, lining up another ring. “I’m hitting the target dead-on. Why won’t it stay?”

- You bit back a laugh, knowing he was taking this far too seriously. “Maybe it’s rigged?” you suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

- Scott frowned, clearly not convinced. “I’m going to try again.”

- This time, you stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm gently. “It’s just a game, Scott. We can always try another one.”

- He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just wanted to win you something.”

- Your heart melted a little at his earnestness, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to win me anything. I’m happy just being here with you.”

- Scott’s expression softened, and he gave you a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks.”

- Just as things seemed to calm down, the Ferris wheel caught Scott’s eye. “Let’s ride that next,” he suggested, glancing at the line. “We’ll be able to see the whole carnival from up there.”

- As you both waited in line, everything seemed to be going smoothly until, suddenly, one of the carnival workers tripped over a loose cable, causing a small electrical issue that made the Ferris wheel stop mid-turn. You both were stuck at the top, dangling in mid-air.

- “Great,” Scott muttered under his breath, looking at the non-functioning ride. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

- You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I guess even you can’t plan for everything.”

- He gave a resigned chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Guess you’re right.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both watched the sun setting over the carnival from your vantage point in the sky.

Bobby Drake (Iceman)

- Bobby was the definition of carefree and fun, so when he suggested going to the carnival, you knew it would be a night full of laughter and mischief. “I’m gonna win you all the prizes,” he declared confidently as you both entered the carnival grounds, his hand laced with yours.

- “You sure about that?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “What if I’m better at the games than you?”

- Bobby grinned, giving you a playful wink. “Oh, I *know* you’re competitive, but just wait. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

- The first game you both hit was the basketball toss. Bobby stepped up, flashing the carnival worker a confident smile. “Watch and learn, babe.”

- You crossed your arms, smirking as you watched him make his first shot—and miss. “Looks like you need some practice,” you teased, stifling a laugh.

- Bobby shot you a mock glare before lining up his next shot. This time, he nailed it, and you couldn’t help but cheer for him. “Told you I had this,” he said, accepting the prize from the worker—a small stuffed penguin, fittingly enough.

- As the night went on, Bobby’s playful antics kept you entertained. He made sure to try every game, even using his powers in small, sneaky ways to give himself an advantage. At one point, he froze the water gun in the shooting game just enough to keep it steady, winning a giant stuffed bear that he proudly handed over to you.

- “How many stuffed animals do you think we can carry?” you asked, laughing as Bobby piled yet another prize into your arms.

- “As many as it takes,” he said with a grin, but you could see the gleam in his eye that told you he was up to something.

- Sure enough, when you reached the ice cream stand, Bobby couldn’t resist using his powers to show off. He created a small ice sculpture of a penguin on your cone, earning a round of applause from the nearby kids.

- “You’re such a show-off,” you said, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

- “I know, I know,” Bobby said, bowing dramatically. “But admit it—you love it.”

- As the night continued, Bobby couldn’t resist getting into a bit of chaos. When you both reached the bumper cars, he made sure to freeze the track just enough to send everyone spinning wildly out of control. You could hear people laughing, completely unaware of the small patch of ice Bobby had created beneath their wheels.

- “Bobby!” you scolded, though you were laughing too hard to sound serious. “You’re going to get us kicked out!”

- “Nah, they’ll never know,” he said, giving you a wink as you both raced around the track, dodging the other cars. It wasn’t long before the ride attendant started looking suspicious, though, and Bobby quickly melted the ice before anyone could catch on.

- By the end of the night, you were both loaded down with prizes and stuffed animals, your sides aching from laughter. “Best. Night. Ever,” Bobby declared as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

- “Yeah, it was pretty amazing,” you agreed, leaning into him as you walked toward the exit. “But next time, maybe we keep the chaos to a minimum?”

- “Where’s the fun in that?” Bobby teased, planting a kiss on your temple.

Warren Worthington III (Angel)

- Warren always had an air of elegance and class about him, even at a carnival. From the moment you walked through the entrance, his hand resting on your lower back, he looked slightly out of place among the flashing lights and crowds. Still, he indulged your excitement, smiling at the prospect of a night filled with games and rides.

- “I’m not exactly used to this kind of... environment,” he admitted, adjusting his shirt as if he were still in some high-class event. You laughed, giving his arm a playful squeeze. “Don’t worry, Warren. Just follow my lead. We’ll start with something simple, like the ring toss.”

- At the game booth, Warren gave a polite nod to the carnival worker and then tried his best to follow the rules of the game. Unfortunately for him, his first few tosses were way off the mark, despite his best efforts. His wings twitched in mild frustration, and you could tell he wasn’t used to failure in any form.

- “Here, let me show you how it’s done,” you teased, stepping up and grabbing a ring. To your own surprise, your first throw landed perfectly around the bottle. You turned to Warren with a grin. “See? It’s all about aiming where you’re not trying to go.”

- Warren chuckled softly, though you could see the competitive spark in his eyes. He was always one to rise to a challenge. After a few more tries, he finally won, and with his natural grace, he handed you a giant stuffed bear. “For you, love. Even if it did take me longer than I expected.”

- Things really started to get chaotic when you both decided to go on the bumper cars. You didn’t think much of it, but Warren’s wings made it difficult for him to comfortably sit in the small car. “This... might not have been the best idea,” he muttered as he tried to squeeze in.

- You were already laughing as you got into your own car, watching Warren struggle to fit his wings within the tight confines. As the ride started, Warren immediately became a target for all the kids driving around, probably because of his wings sticking out awkwardly. Every few seconds, a car would bump into him, sending him jolting forward.

- “Why did I agree to this?” he grumbled, trying to avoid another hit. But when you managed to ram your car into his with a mischievous grin, Warren shot you an amused glare. “You’re going to pay for that.”

- The rest of the ride was a blur of chaotic bumper car mayhem. You laughed the whole time, but you could tell Warren was both trying to enjoy himself and maintain his dignity. By the end of it, his feathers were slightly ruffled, and he gave you a look that said he was never doing that again.

- As the night continued, Warren did loosen up, especially when you convinced him to go on the Ferris wheel with you. The view from the top was breathtaking, and for a moment, he seemed to relax completely, his arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. “Now *this* I can get used to,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple.

- By the end of the night, despite the chaos, Warren admitted he had fun. “Next time, let’s try something a little more... refined,” he teased, though you knew he’d come back to the carnival with you any time you wanted.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

- Erik wasn’t exactly the kind of person who frequented carnivals. You knew it from the moment you suggested it, and the slight arch of his eyebrow told you he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “A carnival? You’re serious?” he asked, arms crossed.

- “It’ll be fun,” you insisted, grabbing his hand. “Come on, Erik, when was the last time you let yourself just relax and enjoy something silly?”

- He sighed, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “For you, I suppose I can make an exception.” That’s how you found yourself walking into the brightly lit carnival with one of the most powerful mutants in the world by your side, looking decidedly out of place but determined to humor you.

- It didn’t take long for things to start going wrong. Erik, being the master of magnetism, unintentionally interfered with several of the carnival rides. You were both standing in line for a simple spinning ride when it suddenly shut down. The operator seemed confused, scratching his head as the machinery stalled.

- “I didn’t even touch anything,” Erik muttered, though you shot him a knowing look. “Really, I didn’t.”

- “Maybe we should stick to games where you don’t have to be near anything metal,” you suggested with a grin, tugging him toward the balloon dart booth.

- Erik’s mood lightened a bit when you both started playing the carnival games. He didn’t have much interest in stuffed animals or prizes, but watching you get competitive at the ring toss and dart games made him smile in his own subtle way. “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” he teased, watching as you missed another shot.

- “It’s harder than it looks!” you argued, but Erik just chuckled. With a flick of his fingers, he subtly guided one of your darts into a balloon, making it pop instantly. You turned to him with wide eyes. “Did you just—”

- “No idea what you’re talking about,” he said smoothly, smirking as the carnival worker handed you a prize.

- The real chaos came when you convinced him to try the strength tester, the game where you hit a hammer and try to ring the bell. Erik didn’t even bother to use his full strength—just a quick, casual swing, and the bell practically flew off the top, clattering onto the ground.

- “Well, that’s one way to win,” you said, trying to stifle your laughter as the carnival worker stared in shock.

- Erik shrugged, looking mildly amused as he glanced at the broken bell. “Not my fault they didn’t build it properly.”

- By the end of the night, despite the mishaps, Erik seemed to have enjoyed himself more than he’d admit. “It was... tolerable,” he said with a smirk, pulling you close. “But next time, let’s do something less likely to fall apart around me.”

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

- Going to a carnival with Pietro was a whirlwind—literally. From the moment you stepped through the gates, he was off, zipping from one game to the next, barely giving you time to catch up. “Come on, slowpoke!” he called out, already standing at the dart booth before you could even take your first step.

- “You’re impossible,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help but smile. Pietro’s energy was infectious, and you knew tonight would be full of chaos.

- It started with the games. Pietro was determined to win you every prize in the carnival, though his speed made it hard for him to slow down enough to actually play. At the ring toss, he zoomed through several rings before realizing none of them had landed. “This game is rigged,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

- “Maybe you should try slowing down,” you suggested with a grin, stepping up to take your turn. To your surprise, you managed to win on your second try, earning a small stuffed animal. Pietro looked at you with wide eyes, clearly impressed. “Okay, maybe you’re just better at this than I am.”

- The real chaos, though, came when you convinced him to go on the carousel. It seemed like a harmless enough ride, but as soon as it started moving, Pietro couldn’t resist the urge to speed it up. Before you knew it, the horses were spinning around at an alarming rate, and people were shouting in surprise.

- “Pietro!” you yelled, holding onto the pole for dear life. “Slow it down!”

- With a laugh, he finally let the ride return to its normal speed, though the other riders were clearly a little dizzy when they got off. “What? I thought it could use a little excitement,” he said with a mischievous grin.

- “You’re going to get us kicked out,” you teased, shaking your head as you both moved on to the next attraction.

- The bumper cars were a whole different level of chaos. Pietro’s speed allowed him to dodge every car with ease, leaving the other riders frustrated as they tried to catch him. You, on the other hand, found yourself being bumped into every few seconds as you tried to keep up.

- “You’re supposed to be on my team!” you shouted as Pietro zipped past you, laughing as he narrowly avoided another car.

- “Sorry, babe, no teams in bumper cars!” he called back, clearly enjoying himself.

- By the end of the night, you were both breathless from laughter and running around the carnival. Pietro wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you walked toward the exit. “That was fun,” he admitted, his usual cocky grin softening a bit. “We should do it again sometime.”

- “Maybe next time you’ll slow down long enough for me to actually enjoy it,” you teased, though you knew you wouldn’t change a thing about the chaotic, whirlwind night you’d had with him.

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

- A carnival date with Wade, was bound to be one of the wildest experiences of your life. The second you stepped into the carnival, he was bouncing around like a kid who’d had way too much sugar. “Oh baby, this is gonna be epic! Carnies, cotton candy, and chaos—three of my favorite things!”

- Wade insisted on playing every game, but instead of trying to win prizes, he was more interested in “spicing things up.” At the dart throw, he purposely hit the ceiling instead of the balloons, declaring, “It’s reverse psychology! They’ll never see it coming!” The poor booth operator was at a loss for words, especially when Wade whipped out his katana, threatening to “pop them all at once.”

- “Wade, no weapons at the carnival,” you reminded him with a chuckle, pulling him away before he could get you both kicked out.

- The real chaos began when Wade spotted the Ferris wheel. “Do you know what this needs? A dramatic Ferris wheel kiss!” Before you could protest, Wade dragged you into a cart, somehow managing to cause a malfunction that stopped the wheel at the very top. The two of you were suspended in mid-air as Wade dramatically dipped you, trying to plant a kiss while also almost flipping you both out of the cart.

- “Wade! We’re gonna fall!” you shrieked, laughing despite yourself.

- “Then we’ll fall in love—literally!” he quipped, still holding onto you with one arm while the other waved madly for the carnival operator to fix the ride.

- After finally getting back on the ground, Wade couldn’t resist trying the bumper cars. This, naturally, turned into a high-speed chase where he decided to narrate the entire thing like a car chase in an action movie. “And Deadpool swerves to the left, narrowly avoiding that kid with cotton candy! But wait, here comes the love of his life, ready to T-bone him from the right!”

- By the time you left the carnival, both of you were banned from at least three rides, Wade had convinced a few people he was actually part of the entertainment, and you couldn’t stop laughing. As the night wound down, Wade gave you a surprisingly soft smile, taking your hand in his.

- “Y’know, this wasn’t half bad,” he said, squeezing your fingers. “You’re pretty fun, babe. And that’s saying something, ‘cause I’m the king of fun.”

- “You make chaos fun,” you teased back, leaning into him as you walked out of the carnival. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Nathan Summers (Cable)

- A carnival with Cable was a different kind of adventure. Nathan wasn’t exactly the carnival type, and you could tell by the way he scanned the crowd the moment you stepped in, his metal arm gleaming under the bright lights. “Do you ever stop being on alert?” you teased him, looping your arm through his.

- He gave you a half-smile, the kind that made your heart race. “Force of habit. But if you want me to relax, I’ll give it a shot.”

- The night started off relatively normal, at least by Cable standards. He begrudgingly tried a few games, and while he wasn’t exactly into it, you could tell he was making an effort for you. “This is rigged,” he muttered after missing a shot at the basketball hoop, his brow furrowed in concentration.

- “Or maybe you’re just out of practice,” you teased, and for a moment, you thought you saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. But things took a turn when you both decided to ride the carousel.

- Halfway through, the ride glitched, and suddenly you found yourselves not in the carnival but in a different time period entirely. “Nathan, did you—?”

- “I didn’t do anything!” he said, his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what had gone wrong. The carousel horses were now galloping through a war-torn landscape, and Cable immediately shifted into battle mode.

- “We have to get out of here,” he growled, using his telekinesis to shield you from flying debris. Just when you thought you were stuck in this alternate timeline forever, Cable managed to fix the glitch, and you both tumbled back into the carnival with a thud.

- “Okay, no more rides,” you panted, laughing as you collapsed against him. Cable chuckled softly, wrapping his metal arm around you protectively.

- “Yeah, maybe we stick to something a little less... chaotic,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple. But despite the madness, you couldn’t deny that the chaos had been kind of thrilling.

- As you left the carnival, Cable squeezed your hand, his usually stoic expression softening. “Next time, let’s just do dinner,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

343 notes · View notes

mowu-moment · 9 months ago

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ranking food tokens by how much personally i want to eat them

- Throne of Eldraine -

i have reason to distrust this meat pie thing, not only because of its wails of anguish but it also seems to have burst a bit in the oven. still not honestly opposed, at least the dishes are clean. 5/10.

how does one unpeel a curly banana? why are there sliced-open fruits on what appears to be a stone in the woods? where is the light coming from? i'm going to be taken by the fae and it's not even gonna taste too good while i'm at it, these things look dirty. but idk i don't mind someone else taking the wheel of my life rn. 2/10.

again, concerns about the floor food, but at least it looks more like some deliverygirl got eaten by a wolf and dropped her basket than a trap. someone already took a bite, though, maybe i should leave it be. 4/10

i have been invited to the Goblin King's Feast and while i don't fully agree with his choices i will certainly partake. boar looks wonderful apart from the hair. 7/10

- Commander 2020 / Strixhaven Commander -

i'm pretty sure cattails are poisonous to humans (not to mention the actual poisons in there) so i unfortunately can't oblige gyome's swamp soup. that crusty bread looks pretty nice though. i'll pick this thing apart like high school cafeteria lunch. 3/10.

- Modern Horizons 2 -

i at least know who cooked this one, and i trust asmor a decent bit, but this is still food for demons, so maybe it's not too good for me. goddamn do i wanna know what it tastes like though. 4/10.

- Unfinity -

i'm considering these two together. as a filthy american, i am allured by these fat-filled foods, but as a lad with a tiny stomach, i doubt i could eat enough to feel good about not wasting it. astrotorium's about excess, goddamn. the only funfair burger i've had was the best thing i had eaten in months, but it also made me ill the rest of the day. i really do want some infinity fries though, those look like the golden mean between a steak fry and a curly fry. 6/10.

- March of the Machine Commander -

meanwhile this looks like a texture nightmare. like i respect it, i imagine it's filling and fulfilling, but i don't think i ever could eat more than a bite or two. bread looks a little worse than gyome's but only a little. 5/10.

- Lord of the Rings: Tales of Middle-Earth -

my white ass loves a charcuterie board. and i'm not going to be intimidated out of it by not eating enough, since it's all in snack-sized bits already. definitely gonna overindulge this sucker. i'm nervous about some of those spreads though. 9/10.

this looks like i'm in a dream, is it actively cooking? or still hot? i can't identify what's in that pan anyway. i'm leaving it alone out of respect. wouldn't mind a drink though. 2/10.

this is not food. for humans. 0/10.

- Wilds of Eldraine -

this is a king's feast i am properly intimidated by. i'm more into it than the Goblin King's, particularly that triple-layer blueberry pie or whatever that is, but i'm going to have to be as polite as possible lest i get a face full of flaming beer. 8/10

i'll probably be eaten before this can eat me, and it barely looks like food, but at least i go down with sugar in the mouth. 1/10.

ogh. that egg looks divine. the bread looks amazing, there's a full glass, i've got like beans or mermaid tears everywhere. we've even got seasonings back there. the best damn breakfast i'll ever have. 10/10.

i would still probably eat this over nothing. there's onion, at least. i will either be hexed or violently ill, but like i could at least get it down. and maybe the witchmother is testing my strength and she'll reward me after slurping an eyeball. a convenient lie to tell myself. 2/10.

- Doctor Who Commander -

y'know, four, i think i would like a copyrighted candy. they look sad and british, which is on point. but like it's not actively killing me like half of these. i think anyway. i don't know doctor who. 6/10.

what is this? i have no idea. custard? raw batter? giant dunkaroo? is he dipping fishsticks? it doesn't look like it's done cooking, like do we need to put it in a fryer again? i'd say it's inedible but it's not poison stew so i have to be nice. 4/10.

get AWAY from me. this is a PERSONAL vendetta. i would rather try to eat spiderwebs. plus he's already eaten half of it. -10/10.

- Fallout Commander -

i can't be too mean since this is literally apocalypse food. i think i prefer this over poison stew? like i recognize it at least, even if it's foul and moldy. man has to eat something. 3/10

i'm not convinced there's actual soda in here. is this just a perspective shot or is this a giant prop soda? i don't like cola anyway. again, worth it in an apocalypse i suppose. 4/10

this soda i trust even less. it glows? does this give me magic powers in the fallout world or does it just kill me slowly? i think it'll kill me slowly anyway. i need fluid to survive in apocalypseland but damn i hate for it to come to this. 2/10.

#mtg #i haven't had breakfast yet today so this is driving me a little looney

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rottenpumpkin13 · 4 months ago

Note

I love the way you write asgzc ♡

can we have more shenanigans between them?

AGSZC Being Chaotic, A List

• Sephiroth and Genesis testing Angeal's strength (and patience) by running up to him and each grabbing onto one of his legs. They see how far he can walk like that. The answer is: not very far before he trips on Sephiroth's hair and the three of them are sent tumbling to the ground.

• One night Sephiroth is completely unable to sleep and texts Genesis. In the conversation he loosely mentions craving donuts. Genesis then suggests they get some from a place across town. They wake up Angeal and take the subway. Passersby have to look twice to confirm, and still wonder if they're actually looking at the Sephiroth with messy hair tied into a ponytail, wearing Angeal's old hoodie, while Genesis devours a jelly donut in an oversized T-shirt, and Angeal uses the umbrella he brought "just in case" to demonstrate how to defend yourself in case of an aftack.

• They skip a boring meeting one afternoon to go to an ice cream shop near the HQ. They're unaware that the price is pay by weight. Angeal and Genesis lose their breaths laughing when Sephiroth's ice cream cup, filled with an absurd amount of candy and toppings, costs 40 gil. Angeal makes fun of this by using it as a makeshift dumbbell and making exaggerated struggling noises.

• There's a very slow afternoon when everyone's in the office where Lazard walks into Genesis' office to find Sephiroth and Angeal being used as makeup practice dummies by Genesis. The alarming sight is not Angeal's dramatic purple eyeshadow, but Sephiroth inhaling some setting powder while trying to smell it, and now he's coughing glitter all over the place.

• Genesis remedies Sephiroth's lack of interest in material possessions and Angeal's anxiety about buying unnecessary things by dragging them out to stores. Sephiroth ends up purchasing items purely due to his friends' influence, such as a garden gnome Genesis pointed out that looked like Professor Hojo, and a realistic human brain bowl. The latter was bought because Angeal placed Genesis' copy of Loveless in it at the store and said "that's Genesis' brain," which made them laugh so hard that they had to buy the bowl or face being asked to leave by the store manager.

• They get so bored at a dull company function that they start mixing alcoholic drinks and making potions with them. One particular mix makes Genesis' throat burn, his eyes water, and his face get so red it matches his coat down to the exact hex code. Lazard tells them to leave quietly because Angeal's laughter is ""making their inebriation obvious."" They "quietly" exit during the president's speech, with Angeal and Sephiroth snickering and Genesis still coughing. Genesis lets out a loud squeal, prompting Angeal to cover his mouth and drag him out quickly.

• Angeal tests Sephiroth's and Genesis' ability to think fast by tackling them at random. The worst is when Genesis is reading or Sephiroth is nonchalantly buying something from a vending machine, and Angeal yells "THINK FAST" before tackling them. Eventually Sephiroth and Genesis want revenge, so they burst into one of Angeal's lessons and dog-pile him in front of his students.

• Sephiroth and Genesis are uneasy when Angeal first suggests bringing Zack around. But their doubts vanish when Zack joins them for lunch one day. He's talkative and interesting, so he wins Genesis over quickly. They bond over shared interests that Zack managed to unearth from Genesis like bad musicals, comic books, and rock music. Genesis suggests trying ice cream with apple juice, leading to Zack snorting the concoction from his nose after Genesis tells him an embarrassing story about Angeal. Genesis laughs so hard he chokes on his ice cream, so there's a point where they're just holding onto each other while choking/snorting/laughing, and Angeal regrets having them meet so much.

• Angeal initially thinks Zack and Sephiroth didn’t hit it off, until one day he hears a loud slam against his office door. When he opens it, he finds Zack sitting on his skateboard, having crashed into the door, while holding a rope that Sephiroth was pulling. To this day, Angeal still doesn’t know what they were attempting, but their laughter made it clear they were at least having fun.

• It's odd. Zack gains a level of familiarity with Sephiroth that took Genesis and Angeal years to build. He can walk into Sephiroth's office unannounced and make spontaneous plans to hang out. Angeal and Zack grow closer too. One day they return from a mission covered in some strange liquid that looks and smells like monster blood. Zack is fuming. This happened after Angeal recklessly suggested they cut down the monster without materia to teach Zack "not to rely on magic too much." Zack is so mad that he ends up lecturing Angeal about being irresponsible. Genesis finds the whole argument so hilarious that he catches it all on video.

• One day Zack says, "So, I have this friend Cloud…"

• Suddenly, Cloud is being steered towards Angeal's apartment for a dinner set up by Zack. Cloud is so sure he's about to make a fool of himself in front of the most famous men on the planet, and in front of Sephiroth. Poor kid doesn't realize that in two weeks time, he'll be minding his business in the barracks when Angeal swings by to let him know that they’re waiting for him to join them after his patrol shift. When Cloud asks if Zack asked Angeal to include him, Angeal grins and replies, "No, Sephiroth made me come here."

• Cloud finds himself getting unofficial materia lessons from Genesis, who tosses him a can of apple juice after every lesson and casually links arms with him to gossip. He's trained by Sephiroth, who turns out to be soft-spoken with a dry sense of humor, interested in hearing all about Nibelheim and what it was like growing up in the mountains.

• Lazard is bewildered when he sees this tiny blond trooper enter the 49th level with an official access card. Asking where he got it, Lazard is surprised when Cloud nonchalantly replies, "Oh, Genesis gave it to me so I don't have to call him every time I need to come up here." Cloud then walks up to Zack, punches him in the shoulder, and claims Zack owes him 10 gil for losing a bet.

• Angeal is the resident photographer of the group, and sometimes they'll be doing something mundane and see a camera flash out of nowhere. One day they ask Angeal where the photos are going and what they look like. Angeal pulls out a photo album filled with pictures of them—some candid, some posed, all of them flat-out ridiculous. Some of these include:

• A photo of Zack pretending to choke with Sephiroth’s braid tied around his neck. • A picture of the group passed out in various positions on a living room floor after a joint mission, with empty snack wrappers scattered around, Genesis using the length of Sephiroth's hair as an eye mask, Zack cuddling Cloud with one arm while the other is splayed across Sephiroth's face. Sephiroth is cuddling his sword. • A mirror selfie of the five of them in the elevator coming back from a company Halloween party. Genesis is a circus ringmaster, Angeal is dressed as a knight, Zack as a cowboy, Cloud as a mummy, and the 6'7 figure with a sheet draped over its head that took the photo is a spooky ghost. This is the one photo Genesis can't look at without laughing hard because of how ridiculous Sephiroth looked that night. • A shot of Genesis and Sephiroth tangled in a wrestling match during a training exercise, seemingly having an argument, with Zack and Cloud sharing a sandwich in the background and giving the camera a thumbs up. • A picture of them at a cat café. Sephiroth has one of the cats on his lap and is looking at it lovingly while it laps up his tea. And then the second photo Genesis and Zack recreated, where Genesis has Zack on his lap while the latter laps up his coffee.

• A photo of Cloud and Zack in the kitchen covered in flower after a cooking attempt went wrong. Genesis is seen in the background, on the ground with his head in his hands after having given up on life. Sephiroth can also be seen in the background, but it's just his hand giving a thumbs at the camera.

• A photo of them in a bookstore. Sephiroth told Genesis to hold a book while they pose for the camera. Genesis was too focused on looking good for the picture, he didn't realize the book was a autographed Sephiroth photo book. Sephiroth has his arms around Genesis. It looks like a picture between Sephiroth and a fan.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife #crisis core

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smaptain-smerica · 2 years ago

Text

Spare me your Time

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: After a rough start to life, Y/n accepts her dream job continuing her father's research. Someone from the past comes back into her life, and she hesitates to establish a connection. He spared her life, will she spare him some of her time in return? Word Count:9.4K Warnings: Death of father, cursing, Forceful obedience, insomnia, the reader has the serum

You usually worked late. All your required assignments were completed in record time, earning you a high standing among the other scientists and engineers. Granted, not everybody knew that you were the boss's daughter.

The company that your father and his brother had started always remained a secret to the world, even to you in some ways. What you could gather from short dinner table conversations was that they were collecting research on how medicines affect different kinds of people and attempting to create unique medicines based on physical and mental assessments.

Growing up around this secret medicine world inspired you to want to become a biomedical engineer just like your father. You wanted to follow in his footsteps and revolutionize medicine and technology for the better.

They would take volunteers to do the scans curate a medicine specifically for them. It would take into consideration their mental age, physical age, and physique to determine the best equations and medicines to help them. The end goal was to be able to take a simple scan of someone's body and output a pill designed perfectly for them in minutes. The only thing they managed to successfully create was personalized allergy medicine. For over a decade of work, it seemed like a small accomplishment, but your father always said it was only the foot in the door.

What was happening under the company's surface was shady dealings by your uncle. One day when your father was out of town on a business trip, your uncle asked if you’d like to sit in the machine for a scan. Your father never let you before so of course you said yes. Your uncle discovered the unmatched potential you carried with you within your brain and body. He kept the scans a secret from your father, even you, and he began to scheme his way toward evil.

Your uncle had heard about the Winter Soldier and the secret HYDRA program they were creating for it. He heard tales of horror from the scientists he regularly kept in touch with. Ultimately, he decided that he could create a serum ten times better than the one HYDRA had used. His serum would eliminate the need for brainwashing and mind-controlling commands. His version of the serum would subject the recipient to obedience. How someone would control them was still in the works, but he began working secretly on the serum, testing it on various rodents until he thought it was perfect.

It was your 15th birthday, midnight on the dot when your uncle woke you from your sleep saying he had a surprise. Hoping it was a new car, you got up to follow him. He knocked you out cold and strapped you to a chair in a lab in the basement. He had injected you with his version of the serum, fire pumping through your veins and melting you from the inside out. In a groggy state, you watched your father burst into the room, frantically trying to find you. He was furious, more furious than you had ever seen him in your life. Unfortunately, your uncle was faster, shooting him square between the eyes with a concealed weapon, as though he was waiting for this moment.

For a few months, your uncle has put you through a series of tests. Your speed, strength, and durability had increased, but not in the way he had hoped. There was only a 75% increase in physical attributes. Instead, it was your mind that had been maximized to its full potential. Suddenly you gained a photographic memory with the ability to memorize quickly. You could see or hear instructions for something once and instantly perfect it. He sat you in the library, forcing you to watch countless videos and read countless books. You had become fluent in 15 different languages in only 6 months and knew every Jiu-Jitsu move there was and more. Though you might not have been as strong as the Super Soldiers, your uncle had hopes you could outsmart them.

So, from 16 and on you earned the highest education possible. Graduating high school at 17, college at 20, and finally, a master's degree in biomedical engineering at 23. You were halfway through earning your Ph.D. when someone walked into your life that changed it forever.

The serums effects weren’t 100%, but you were only the first test subject. There was some free will in the sense that you could go and do whatever you want, but unless someone told you otherwise, it was in your nature to listen. Stay here, never leave, work on this project, go get me this, when you were younger you didn’t even realize this was happening. People just told you that you were helpful and kind-hearted. Your uncle knew though, and used it to his advantage.

One of your favorite songs played ever so softly next to you from a small speaker while you worked in the lab. The only light was a desk lamp over your workstation. It was in the early hours of the morning, so you had to be quiet to not bring suspicions to your project. You sang gently to yourself as you squeezed a drop of blood onto a microscope sheet and then put your work-in-progress anti-serum serum over the top of it. You brought your eyes to the scope, examining what was happening within the red and white blood cells.

The sound was hardly noticeable but still caused you to freeze up. Slowly, you straighten your posture and turn around. Your hand shut off the music as you listened intensely, but only the sound of your heartbeat was in your ears.

Finally, a dark figure appeared in the small ring of light around you. Your eyes widened and you took a step backward in fear, knocking over the stool in the process. In front of you stood a tall man with dark, long hair and a face covered by a mask. You wouldn’t have recognized him if it weren’t for the silver, metal arm that hung from his shoulder.

Your uncle told you stories of him, you’ve read about him and yet, still didn’t think he was real.

The winter soldier.

“I know who you are.” You choked out, embarrassed by how small your voice sounded. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, you could have sworn you saw his head tilt ever so slightly.

“Did you come here to kill my uncle?” Your voice hardly came out as a whisper. As terrified as you were for your own life then, you hoped he would say yes.

The winter soldier nodded.

“Did you do it?” You asked.

He nodded again.

You felt relief flood over you. You were free. Your body let go of a weight that you didn’t know was attached to you as the confirmation settled in your mind.

“Thank you.” You whispered, half to the mysterious assassin before you, and half to the universe.

He raised a pointer finger and seemed to aim it directly behind you. You glanced back at your work and then back at him.

“What am I doing?” You asked.

He only responded with a nod. A man of few words, you thought.

You sighed. Oddly enough, he was the inspiration behind it. He, you, and all the other people your careless uncle killed trying to create the “perfect” soldier.

“I’m trying to fix it. Fix us.” You responded grimly.

Your attention is fixed now on his eyes. His blue and enticing eyes seemed to sparkle with some emotion that was hard to place as he looked at the table and then back at you. The winter soldier hesitated it seemed. Looking at your work, then you, down at his hand, then back up again. You were scared he was going to kill you for even being a witness. But he didn’t. He took a few steps backward, disappearing out of the light and into the dark before he swiftly left the lab.

You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The fear of coming close to death exited your body like an exorcism. Your legs wobbled as you caught yourself on the workbench. What were you going to do now? You were free. Free from your uncle's grasp, and the experiments, you could leave the house. Hell, you could move states. You turned around and looked at your work. Seeing that your current antidote failed, you sighed in defeat and gathered up your notebook. You would- no, needed- to finish this. But it could wait. Now, you were going to take everything you had and discover a new life for yourself.

If one thing hadn’t changed, it was that you still worked late into the night. By textbook definition, you were a night owl. It was hard to get to sleep and stay asleep with your mind constantly reeling with thoughts. You were just coming back from a run around the compound at 1:30 am. The Avengers compound was so peaceful at night. The gentle sounds of the water and the humming of crickets were your favorite.

Water from the kitchen was the first place you wanted to go. When you opened the fridge you spotted a few Gatorades. You knew they were Clint’s, he had explicitly told you not to touch them. However, Clint was gone for the week, visiting his family. That was plenty of time to cover up your crimes.

You headed back to the lab, having thought of another formula to scribble down while on your run. To your surprise, the light to your lab was on. None other than your boss, Tony Stark, was flipping through one of your sketchbooks. It wasn’t a surprise to find him snooping through your drawings. You and he were collaborating on a prosthetic contraption for his friend Rhodes. It was odd to see him here this late, however.

“Burning the midnight oil, Mr.Stark? Now you’re taking after me.” You teased while leaning in the doorway.

Tony looked up at you and gave you a crooked grin.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

To you, it wasn’t just an expression. Your photographic memory stood out to Tony the first day you met. He called you Sherlock Holmes because of your ability to memorize and analyze every single detail of a picture while only seeing it for one second. The real reason Tony had hired you was because he was fascinated with you and your fathers' research. He agreed to fund your research in its entirety as long as he got to slap a stark label on it when it was finished.

“I’m liking these designs, kid.” He pointed to the paper at one drawing in particular.

“How quickly do you think you could whip up a prototype for this one?”

You walked over to him and peered over his shoulder. You hummed in thought.

“A carbon fiber prototype, a couple of days. But a functioning one I would need about 3 weeks if I halted my other projects.”

Tony tapped his fingers against his chin and nodded. He hadn’t taken his eyes off your designs for the entirety of the conversation.

“That’s great. Yeah, that’s perfect. Get a prototype of these put together for me would ya?”

You brought your fingers to your forehead and saluted him.

“You’re the boss.”

Tony smiled at you, placing a hand on your shoulder before heading for the door.

“Tony!” You called after him which caused him to halt and face you.

“Why did you actually come down here?” You asked. You could sense it, there was something that he wanted to say but either changed his mind or couldn’t gather the courage.

“Your uncle worked with super soldiers, right?” He asked. You were shocked by the unexpected question and suddenly nervous. Nobody on the team knew you had some variant of the serum coursing through you. It was part of the reason you worked out at night when everyone was asleep. So nobody could see the obvious above-average strength that you carried

“He was fascinated by them, yes.” You finally replied. “He tried many times to recreate the serum but failed.”

“Are you trying to recreate it?”

Your heart nearly stopped beating and your face went ghostly white at the question. Tony pulled out one of your older notebooks from behind his back. It was the one you used for antidote equations.

“Please give that back.” You asked quietly.

“I was looking for your research on the medicines, because I’m allowed to do that since I fund your whole project, and I came across that. I didn’t mean to, but now that I have I’m concerned.”

“No, it’s not like that. I was…” you were scared to admit it. You were scared that the truth might slip up and come out. You weren’t ready for that to happen just yet.

“I was trying to figure out how to reverse it.” You finally admitted, avoiding eye contact with Tony.

Tony looked deep in thought at the book for a moment before tossing it back in your direction. You caught it with ease by the spine.

“You are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.”

That was his way of leaving the conversation. Your heart swelled with pride at the compliment as you looked at the book. Maybe it was time to start looking into this once again.

The next morning the compound was alive and buzzing with commotion. Unfortunately, because you were often late going to bed you were also late to rise. It was unusual for you to get out of bed before 10:00 am. It was a good thing your boss was generous.

You often worked with the Avengers in your lab. Over the short few years there developing your father's research you accidentally created an ointment that could heal any external superficial wounds. Punctures, scrapes, and lacerations, all of which happen to be occupational hazards for the enhanced superhumans. They were fully stocked with the ointment in the med bay but, for some reason, they liked to bother you more.

Natasha was drinking a coffee and reading a book at the island in the kitchen when you strolled in still in your pajamas, looking for what scraps were left of breakfast.

“Good morning, y/n.” She spoke smoothly.

“Morning.” You yawned, picking up a cold piece of bacon off the plate and began munching.

“What’s with all the commotion?”

Natasha set down her book and turned her attention fully towards you.

“New recruit. A friend from Steve’s childhood.”

“Steve’s childhood?” You asked, astonished. “Isn’t he, like, 100 years old?”

Natasha hummed a chuckle. “Yes, he is. We’re having a meeting to discuss it, I’m sure Tony wouldn’t mind if you sat in.”

“Oh, no,” you responded quickly to the offer. “I gotta get to work. I’m sure I’ll run into him at some point.”

Natasha smiled and stood up as a way of saying goodbye. You smiled at her as well before taking your breakfast to go towards your lab.

You rounded the corner and stopped in the doorway, noticing a young teenager standing in the lab. He must have heard you because he whipped around and looked at you wide-eyed and surprised.

“Hi, um, I’m Peter. Mr. Stark told me to wait here for you.”

You chuckled at the awkwardness of his stance and speech as you walked into the room.

“Hi Peter, I’m y/n. I’ve heard about you, you’re the spider kid, right?” You asked, noticing that he had been flipping through the notebooks you left open on the table.

“Yeah, um, spiderman, actually.”

You smiled at him. Tony told you about a genius superhero kid he wanted to recruit. Tony called you kid, and being 26 you definitely weren’t. You just didn’t expect this recruit to actually be a kid. You did some research into him. Even gained access to his school transcripts. He was a wickedly smart kid, particularly in science. You were looking forward to meeting him.

“When Tony discovered you, he asked me to look into how you get around. Your webs.” You remarked.

Peter looked down at his wrists briefly before returning his gaze to you.

“What about them?”

You smirked a little.

“Do you think we could play around with them?”

About an hour and a half later you and Peter had created a mess of your lab. Webbing was hung in every corner. Different colored webbing strands caused your lab to look like an entire case of silly string had exploded.

When Tony walked into the lab, you and Peter were hanging in bunk bed-styled web hammocks, Peter asking you questions about his chemistry homework while you scribbled down some notes on one of the high-tech tablets.

Both your attention turned to your boss and then you looked at each other. Tony sighed, bringing his hand to the bridge of his nose and pinching it out of frustration.

“I should have known. Alright, y/n get back to work. Peter, you’re with me.”

Peter's face was bright red after being scolded by Tony. You were used to it. He never punished you really, he knew you’d get your work done. Once Peter had left, you looked around the room at all the webbing strung everywhere. Peter said it would dissolve over time, but how long would that be?

When you got to work on the prototype, time flew by. Your lab door remained closed while blasting all your favorite music. Tony had stopped by around dinner to bring you a plate and let you say goodbye to Peter before you continued in your work trance. The next time you checked to see what time it was, it was just after midnight.

You took a moment to admire your work. Surprisingly, you’d gotten most of it done in record time. You decided you would take a break to go for a run and then stay up the rest of the night to finish it. You would sleep when it was completed.

You had taken the long route on your run after deciding you would stay up to finish the project. You picked a trail through the trees, enjoying all the crisp earthy smells that entered your lungs. The moon was bright enough outside that you didn’t need a flashlight. You took the time to have FRIDAY read you the information available to you about the new recruit. You discovered there were a lot of information files that you didn’t have access to. You didn’t have a high clearance since you weren’t a world-saving Avenger, but it still piqued your interest.

Once you returned from your run, you decided the best way to wake yourself up was a cold shower and a shot of espresso. You’d need the small extra boost of energy to power through. While you waited for the coffee to brew, a noise drew your attention.

Your brain never allows you to forget a face. The photographic memory always brings a picture to the front of your mind. This picture brought back a feeling of fear and dread. Those eyes, those captivating blue eyes, and the long, dark hair. It was him. The man that terrified you, but spared your life.

“Um,” he spoke, drawing your attention from the depths of your mind back to the dark kitchen.

“Your coffee?”

You looked back to the espresso machine that was spilling out onto the drip tray below. You cursed to yourself as you quickly put a cup underneath the spouts.

“Sorry, you just… startled me.”

You hesitated on how to continue the sentence. Surely he remembered you, right? Probably not. The winter soldier had been around for decades.

It now made sense how he could be Steve’s childhood friend.

He threw a half-hearted smile your way while sitting down at one of the bar stools.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting anybody to be up this late.” He spoke quietly. You examined him for a moment. Broad shoulders and a long-sleeve shirt with a pair of gloves hid his arms, the real tell sign he was the winter soldier. Maybe you were wrong, maybe he was just a normal guy who got cold. Or maybe he had eczema. But those eyes, you could never forget those eyes.

“Nobody usually is. I can just never get my mind to shut off long enough to sleep.” You admitted, throwing back the shot of espresso. Your face twisted up at the extreme bitterness as you turned around to rinse out the glass.

You heard him chuckle a little.

“I understand more than you think. But it doesn’t look like you’re trying to sleep, either.”

It was your turn to hum a small, amused chuckle in response.

“No, Stark’s got me on a project and I’m almost finished. I’m just going to pull an all-nighter.”

While you were watching him, the way he moved and talked, he seemed gentle. He was trying his best to make himself seem smaller than he actually was. It was odd, this was the same man that was in front of you that day but with an entirely different demeanor. What was once rigid and intimidating was now gentle and enticing. You still couldn't get past the whole murderous assassin thing, if it weren't for that you would be enjoying the company of an attractive man.

“Really? What do you do?” He asked.

Your work was your passion. It’s all you wanted to do. Create medicines and machines to help people. Naturally, your face lit up as you spoke.

“I’m a biomedical engineer. Tony is funding my fathers' research on personalized medicines. What I do is I take a scan of your brain and body, then it gives me a series of equations to create the perfectly chemically balanced medicine for you. They were only successful once with a volunteer's allergies, but I’m hopeful it will expand.”

His face lit up slightly while watching you go on a tangent. His gaze softened and a smile crept up to his lips.

“You look awfully young to be this far in your career.” He commented.

“And you look awfully young to be 100.” You snapped back subconsciously. Realizing what had just come out of your unfiltered mouth, you gasped and clamped a hand over your mouth.

“I am so sorry.”

He chuckled from where he was in his seat and shook his head back and forth.

“No, don’t apologize. That was good.”

“I have a photographic memory.” You blurted out before you could embarrass yourself further.

“I’m somewhat of a genius, by technical standards I suppose.”

“That’s very lucky. Your father must be proud.” He hummed.

“He would be.”

Your heart sank a little. You knew your father would have been proud of you. Especially with everything you’ve been through. Truthfully, you didn’t feel your gift was luck. It was forced upon you. Not that you weren’t grateful to be smart, it just wasn’t something you would have chosen willingly. A gift laced with guilt and shame. It was part of the reason you wanted to create an antidote. Just in case there was part of you that wanted to go back to simpler things, and maybe that would be available to him one day as well.

The man seemed to notice the past tense of the phrase you used and frowned a little. It was obvious he tried to switch topics very quickly.

“So, what are you working on with Tony?”

You were grateful to be off that topic, happily jumping to the next one.

“We’re working on some prosthetics for Rhodes. I’m going to use the brain scanning technology to try and create an external neurotransmitter system that will allow him to have full function of his limbs as if they were never injured. All, with a sleek design that would be practically undetectable when worn underneath clothing.”

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes wide and bright as a smile formed on his lips.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman as extraordinary as you.”

You felt a heat rise to your face that you quickly dismissed with a wave of the hand. On one side of the coin, that compliment nearly made your heart jump from your chest. On the other, he was still the world's most notorious super soldier assassin. And he was acting like he didn’t know you. Or perhaps, didn’t remember?

“There’s this great running trail through the trees. If you go down to the training center and out the east door it’ll lead you right to it. It’s usually what I do when I can’t sleep.” You offered, deciding it was best that you got back to your work as quickly as possible.

The man’s face lit up once again as he looked out the windows and then back in your direction.

“That sounds great, actually. I’ll do that. Thank you, um…” he paused, looking to you for confirmation of your name.

“Y/n.” You realized you had gone through that entire conversation not introducing yourselves. You had remembered his name from the file and just assumed he knew you. You aren’t an Avenger so it was a silly thing to assume.

“And it’s James, right?”

“Yeah, James. But you can call me Bucky.” Bucky replied, standing up from his chair.

“Bucky it is then. It was nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself.

“I’ll see you around, Y/n.”

Your feelings were conflicted the entire time you continued to work on the project. You enjoyed the conversation and enjoyed his company. Truthfully if you didn’t need to get back to work you could have talked to him all night. If it weren’t for the damn fact that you could remember his face. The Winter Soldier. Of course, you would find yourself attracted to him.

“Fuck me.” You grumbled.

After what felt like hours of working, you took a step back to look at the wire-covered model on the mannequin in front of you. You smiled gently. It was exactly how you had drawn it. And, to make it easier on yourself, you had created it in a way that if Tony liked it you could start right away on the actual model. You looked down at your watch to check the time.

8:27 am.

Well, it’s not the longest you’ve stayed up, but it certainly is the longest in months. You exited your lab and made your way down the maze of hallways. The unfamiliar sound of chatter made itself present as you approached the kitchen for a snack before heading to bed.

You rounded the corner, the sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows blinding you. The white noise of conversation stopped and by the time your eyes adjusted to the light, you discovered everyone was staring at you.

“What?” You asked, picking up an apple off the counter.

“It’s 8:30 am,” Steve commented from his place at the stove, flipping pancakes.

“Thanks, captain obvious.” You grumbled before taking a bite of the apple.

Snickers broke out in the group before Natasha spoke up next.

“You’re never up this early.”

“That’s because I haven’t gone to bed yet.” You smiled as the group broke off into another fit of laughter. You noticed Bucky sitting off to the side, somewhat isolated but still close enough to engage in conversation. He smiled at you gently, which you returned.

“If anyone sees Tony tell him my prototype is complete. But from me, good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight.”

A symphony of different farewells followed you from the group as you made your way to your room. You didn’t bother to change, falling asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow.

Bucky hadn’t stopped thinking about you from the moment he met you. From the moment he saw you, there was a pull. He felt it in his heart like a magnet.

While he and Steve were throwing around the shield on the front lawn, he asked questions about you. What did you do during the day, where was your lab, and what were you like to be around? Steve answered all the questions with a mischievous smile.

“Leave it to you to get the hots for a girl on your first day.” Steve teased.

Bucky laid in bed thinking about it. He thought about your face, how familiar you looked. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the face you made whenever you first laid eyes on him in the kitchen. The face of someone who had met the winter soldier. For the life of him, he just couldn’t remember where.

There was no way he was sleeping. Not for a while at least, if at all. He got up and got dressed in some workout clothes. He figured he would take this opportunity to ask you to go on a run, and maybe get to know you better.

He knew he was screwed when he started to wonder what you would think of his outfit. He changed his shirt twice before grumpily giving up. Using the instructions Steve had given him on how to get to your lab, he was off on his quest. A pep in his step and a nervous flutter in his stomach.

Your lab was at the end of a hallway, the wall lined with glass windows and a glass door so he could see what you were doing. He watched you sway to the music while you tinkered with some wires on the table. He looked at the prototype on the mannequin's legs and smiled. You really did work fast.

As he approached the closed door he could hear the music playing. It sounded familiar to him, but he wasn’t sure why. He slowly opened the glass door but it was obvious you didn’t hear him because you didn’t look up. You kept singing along to the song playing.

I finished my mission. Eliminate Harold L/n and leave no witnesses. It was quite easy, an unmarried man in an estate too large for his own good. Nobody would miss him.

As I was heading back to the exit, I heard a soft voice talking. No, not talking, singing. I growled in annoyance. Of course, someone was here at this ungodly hour of the night, why wouldn’t they be? It was just my luck.

I followed the gentle sounds of the song down a flight of stairs to what looked like an unused basement. To my right, I saw a faint yellow light coming from the window in one of the doors. I slowly approached, opened the door, and slipped inside.

As I approached, I noticed it was a woman. She had heard me because the music shut off and she looked around frantically. She hadn’t seen me yet, but she already looked terrified of getting caught.

I stepped into the light and made eye contact with her. Big, round, beautiful e/c eyes staring back at me. The fear turned into recognition. What she said to me took me by surprise.

“I know who you are.”

She knows me? How could a scientist have known who I was? It was more likely she was in on the serum recreation. She probably had to learn about me and study me.

“Did you come here to kill my uncle?”

Her uncle, great. Family member as a witness. Let’s hope his brother isn’t around anymore.

I nodded in response to her question.

“Did you do it?” She asked again, her voice coming out with a twinge of desperation. Confused by her question, I simply nodded again.

Then, she did something unexpected. Her whole body relaxed like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she thanked me. She thanked me. It nearly made me tear up hearing those words. It has been a very very long time since anybody has shown me gratitude. Especially for killing their relatives. I was even more confused now about how she knew who I was. Was she forced to research the serum? Was that what she was doing now? Surely not, not this late anyway.

I pointed to the work behind her and she accepted my action as the question I was trying to ask.

“I’m trying to fix it. Fix us.”

I was left with more questions than answers. There were probably a million different things that she could be talking about. My mind held out hope that one was true; the serum. And us, made me think she had it too.

I looked down at my gun, then back at the woman. If HYDRA found out I had left a witness, there’s no telling what would become of me. Although, something deep inside of me pulled for her to survive, to spare her. In the small chance, it was the serum she was trying to reverse, I needed to let her live. So despite direct orders, I left.

“Earth to Bucky!”

Y/n’s voice brought Bucky back to reality. The memory had hit him like a truck. The song you were listening to triggered the memory back into his brain. He was right, you had known him. Why didn’t you say anything?

“Huh, what?” Bucky responded to your attempt at grabbing his attention.

“I said are you okay, do you need something? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You were sitting in your rolling chair, arms across your chest as you watched him, your head tilted.

“No, I’m good. I forgot why I came here actually. Goodnight.” Bucky said to you as he tried to leave the room as quickly as possible. He had hardly let you get out the words good night before shutting the door and disappearing into the compound.

For the last half hour, you had been thinking about how odd Bucky had acted. He came to your lab, opened the door, then changed his mind and left. In truth, it disrupted your thoughts so much that you had to stop and take a break from work.

You made your way down to the training center, preparing your headphones for your run through the trees. Had to take advantage of the moon being at its peak.

Once you entered the training room you noticed a familiar figure at the punching bags. There was one already broken and seeping sand on the floor. You swallowed as you approached, hoping to catch his attention before you got there.

“Bucky?” You asked, but he kept going.

You walked around to his left side, standing to the side. Now there was no way he could use the excuse of not hearing you.

“Bucky.” You said but got ignored again.

Now frustrated, you shifted your positioning so you were now looking him in the eyes while he wailed into the punching bag. Frustration boiled inside of you. So much, so that while he was in the drawback of one of his punches, you stuck your hand out and caught him before it hit the bag.

Your hand stung as it collided with the hard surface underneath his boxing wrap. Instinctively you brought your hand to your stomach and held onto it.

“Holy shit that hurt.” You hissed as you doubled over and favored your hand.

You looked up at Bucky and saw the shocked expression on his face as he stared at you.

“You couldn’t have worn a short sleeve shirt or something? Shit.” You flicked your hand to try and shake the pain away.

“How did you do that?” He asked. You looked at him, making strong eye contact as your heart began to beat out of your chest.

“I used to do jujitsu.” You attempted to explain.

“That wasn’t jujitsu, you stopped my metal arm mid-swing. How did you do that?” Bucky started to get more demanding. You hadn’t told anyone you had the serum, you wouldn't let anybody here figure that out. So to avoid that conversation, you turned to walk away.

“That’s not important. I was going to invite you on a run but you can forget about that now.” You said sassily.

“I’m sorry I was just-“ Bucky started, watching you walk away from him. “Wait, please.”

The command triggered the obedience in your mind, causing you to become frustrated. Although, you were good at working around it. He said to wait, he didn’t say for how long. So you only stopped for a second before you kept walking.

“Stop walking away and talk to me, y/n,” Bucky called after you again.

Your feet stopped moving before your brain could even register the sentence. This time you couldn’t work your way around it. The command was direct and specific. No trying to cheat the system now. You turned around sassily, standing with your weight on your dominant foot.

“What?” You responded dryly.

“How did you do that?” He asked, a slightly demanding tone to his voice.

“It’s not your business.” You responded quickly.

“Be honest with me please y/n.”

You fought with the internal motive within your body. You struggled not to outright admit to it. Usually, you could control your own verbal choices with a little mental override effort.

“You once told me that you were trying to fix us. Do you have the serum?”

Your heart nearly dropped out of your chest.

“You remember.” You marveled.

“I didn’t until earlier. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry, I assumed you remembered.”

It wasn’t until Bucky brought his hands up to his hair that you noticed the blood-stained boxing wraps around his knuckles.

“You’re bleeding.” You commented, taking a step towards him.

“And you’re a super soldier!” He spat out the words like they were poison.

You stormed up to him, inches from his face with fire coming out of your ears. You brought up an accusing finger in warning.

“Shut up. You don’t speak another word of this. Nobody else knows. I wanted to keep it that way.”

You didn’t consider yourself a threatening person, but Bucky’s eyes widened as he nodded with understanding. The little bit of power you felt in that moment was an ego boost. You reached down and grabbed him by the wrist to guide him back to your lab.

Once you were there, you shut and locked the door behind you.

“Sit.” You commanded him. He obeyed, taking a seat in the rolling stool as he watched you walk around your lab to gather an ointment and a wet towel.

You sat down in front of him and unwrapped his knuckles. It was clear that he started without his fists wrapped and then decided to halfway through.

“Yes. My uncle used me as a test subject for his version of the serum.” You explained while cleaning the area of the wound for him.

I opened the ointment jar and pulled out a generous amount.

“This shouldn’t hurt, but it might tingle slightly.” You warned.

“What is it?” Bucky asked.

You began applying a thin layer to his cracked knuckles as you explained.

“An ointment I accidentally created. It heals pretty much all superficial wounds within minutes.”

Bucky was silent as he watched you work. Once you were done, he watched his knuckles carefully. It began to generate a dull tingle on the edges of the cracks. He watched as the small cracks in his skin began to mend and heal before his eyes.

His eyes returned to yours with a look of amazement.

“That’s incredible.”

“Thank you.” You responded while trying to clean up after yourself.

“Your uncle… What was he trying to change with the serum?” Bucky asked.

It was difficult for you to decide whether or not to tell him. You hardly knew him, but something inside of you wanted someone to confide in. If anyone was going to understand it was going to be him. You thought about opening up to Steve, but he was always so busy. This was a huge secret that you didn’t want to get out.

“It was a long time ago.”

“You might be the only person that understands me.” Bucky said quietly, Causing you to turn around and look at him. His face was lost, almost puppy dog-like. You could almost see the desperation in his blue eyes. He held out his hand for you to take. You hesitated, wanting to reach out but that part of you so long ago kept your hand restrained.

“I’m sorry, for everything,” Bucky whispered, the look on his face sincere.

“I promise I won’t hurt you. That’s not me anymore. If you could spare me a bit of your time, I’ll prove it to you.”

You couldn’t help but feel your heart ache for the man in front of you. It was clear to you that maybe he needed someone to confide in as much as you did. You reached your hand out and took his.

Bucky looked relieved, his head dropping to look at his lap as he squeezed your hand.

“Thank you.”

You pulled up a stool to sit in front of him, preparing to lay out your biggest secret to him.

“My uncle wanted to create a serum that would allow him to control armies of soldiers without having to use brainwashing. His serum would make them obedient to a fault so that they wouldn’t know what they were doing was wrong in the first place.”

You could see the fear in his eyes when he asked;

“Did it work?”

“Well, I only got about 75% of the strength, but for some reason, the serum made me extremely smart. It’s what gave me a photographic memory.” You explained.

“What about the obedience?” He seemed to be the most concerned about that bit. From what you could guess, he was worried that it would have been successful.

“It didn’t work entirely.” You were hesitant to explain out of fear it could be used against you. “I can control it most of the time. Find ways around it but, a direct command is a direct command. And my body won’t let me ignore it.”

Bucky’s face dropped into devastation. Truthfully, you had never seen anybody look more distraught.

“In the training center when I told you to stop,”

“No,” you jumped at the chance to interrupt him before he could continue.

“Don’t-“

“I am so sorry.” He looked genuinely upset.

“Don’t apologize to me Bucky, you had no idea.”

“No, y/n, you have no idea how much this means to me.”

He met your eyes, an intense seriousness to them. You remembered at that moment that the winter soldier was controllable by whoever said the code. Why had you thought he would use it against you? If anything, he was the only one who understood what you were going through.

Bucky stood up and began to pace the room. You could almost see the thoughts gathering together in his mind.

“I promise you, that will never happen again. I’m going to make sure that never happens to you again.”

“Nobody else knows about this. Not even Tony, please don’t tell anybody.” You begged.

“Nobody is going to know.” He snapped in such a serious tone that it surprised you.

The room filled with a silence that was neither comforting nor awkward. You looked down at your hands while Bucky was standing off somewhere in the room. You were going to have to get over this irrational fear of being around him. You from years ago would need to let go of everything because you now needed a friend, and The Winter Soldier might just be your unlikely friend.

After gathering some courage, you stood up from your chair, catching Bucky’s attention. He turned to face you and looked at you expectantly. You slowly walked towards him until you were only a few feet apart. You held your breath as you pulled him towards you and entrapped him in a hug. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around you and gave you a gentle squeeze.

It was comforting to feel his heart racing just as badly as yours was. You finally let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Thank you for listening.” You whispered.

A hum vibrated around inside Bucky’s rib cage before he replied;

“Thank you for trusting me.”

It had been a little over three weeks since you started the Rhodes project and you were between a rock and a hard place. Each day was another attempt and each day a new failure. You had stopped sleeping, and even skipped meals to ensure you had extra time to work on the project. Due to the heightened abilities of your mind, the lack of sleep affected you differently. Was it healthy, probably not. Could you still function? Yes.

Bucky often came to sit with you and visit you. He would try his best to understand what you were trying to do, even trying to help where he could. But most of the time, he would bring you meals, and the two of you would just sit and enjoy conversations.

Other times, he knew that he could get some alone time away from the other Avengers if he needed it. It didn’t happen often, but when it did he just sat in the corner and read books trying to catch up on the last few decades.

Unfortunately, the last couple of days most of the Avengers were out on a mission so you hadn’t had a lot of company. You worked endlessly trying to figure out where you were going wrong. The last few days blended and you couldn’t recall the last time you had slept.

While making yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, Tony strolled in for the morning. He stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on you.

“You look like shit, Sherlock.” He remarked.

You rolled your eyes a little, being sleep deprived made you a little irritable.

“Thank you, that’s great to hear.”

“When’s the last time you slept?” Tony asked.

You stayed silent, looking down at your coffee as you aimlessly stirred it around.

“Y/n-“

“I’m really close, I can feel it!” You protested.

“Go to sleep, right now. Go to your room and sleep.” Tony instructed.

You felt your heart tighten in disappointment slightly. You knew that Tony wasn’t upset, he cared about you just like the rest of his staff. No matter how badly you wanted to stay up and finish your project, you had to listen.

With your head hung low, you left the kitchen and walked towards the hallway where the bedrooms were. You had only made it about halfway down the hallway before a hand caught your arm.

You looked up to meet the eyes of Bucky who was looking down at you with a sad expression.

“Do you want to?”

“What?” You questioned, your body subconsciously trying to slowly pry itself away from his grasp to go to your room.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” He said again more gently this time.

You sighed.

“I need to, but no. I am frustrated that I can’t figure this out.”

Bucky bit his bottom lip like he was deep in thought.

“I have an idea that might be able to help you. But after that, you really should get some sleep. You look tired, doll.”

You smiled at him and nodded, excited for what his idea might be.

“Do you want to go back to your lab?” He asked.

“Yes, I do.” You responded.

Bucky had kept his promise to help you have control of your actions. You had noticed he changed his wording around you. He carefully chose his words so that he was never directly instructing you. Whatever he did, he always left you a choice. You also decided that if you were ever doing something you didn’t want to do, he had to ask permission first to redirect your mind. It was a sweet gesture. You never had to implement it until now.

“Then get back to your lab.” He said with a cheeky smile.

The two of you walked back to your lab, careful as to not be seen by Tony as you ran for the elevator. Once you were in your lab, you locked the door and asked Friday to dim the windows so nobody could see inside.

“Alright,” you turned eagerly towards him. “What is this thing to help me?”

Bucky gave me a weak smile as he began to take off his jacket, revealing a short sleeve shirt underneath. For as long as you had known him, he always wore a long sleeve shirt or a jacket. He never let his metal arm show out of fear of making others uncomfortable. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about asking him to look at it for your project, but that thought only crossed your mind once.

“I thought that maybe you could look at my arm and it might push you in the direction you need to go.”

A wide and bright smile covered your face at his gesture. The vulnerability he was showing you right now caused a new light to shine down on him. He trusted you, and you weren't going to break that now.

“Let's try it! Sit down on the chair, please.” You instructed.

Bucky nodded, walking over to one of the rolling chairs and taking a seat. You approached him and took his metal hand in yours. You ran your fingers up the cold, smooth material until you hit the sleeve of his shirt. You looked at the cotton fabric and then sideways at Bucky who met your gaze. You were embarrassed to ask, but you needed to see the full piece. You avoided his eye contact and felt a heat rise to your face as you asked.

“Could you take this off for me?”

Bucky smirked a little as he grabbed at his shirt and easily slid it off his torso. “I usually wait until someone’s bought me dinner first.”

A burning heat rose to your face at the comment and you grumbled a curse word at him playfully. It was hard to ignore that he was a lot more muscular than you first thought. As awful as it sounds, you forced yourself not to stare.

Your hand slid up the smooth metal of his arm and felt all the moving pieces and joints. Considering how long ago this was created, the technology was seriously impressive.

“I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder, is that okay?”

You asked and he nodded in response.

You gently placed the palm of your left hand on the scarred area where metal met flesh. You felt your heartstrings tug slightly in sadness for what he went through. You pushed away that feeling and kept working. You held his arm in different positions and instructed him to stretch his fingers and then make a fist. Your right hand slid down the metal arm and you took his hand in yours while keeping your left hand on his shoulder. “Squeeze my hand please.” You instructed. Bucky gave your hand a gentle squeeze. When you were satisfied, you moved the placement of your left hand and asked him to squeeze again. He followed your instructions.

You pulled your hands back and looked at him. He had an unfamiliar look on his face. A combination of a soft smile and wondrous eyes.

“What?” You asked, suddenly feeling bashful underneath his blue gaze.

“I just love watching you work.” Bucky shrugged.

A head radiated on your face that you had to shove aside to move on to the next step in the process.

“Would you mind going into the scanner? It'll only take 5 minutes.”

He looked back at the machine and then back at me with a hesitant look.

“I’ll be there the whole time.” You reassured him.

Bucky looked up at you with a soft smile and a nod. You opened the glass door to the scanning machine and gestured for him to step inside. He followed instructions, standing in the center of the machine while the door slid closed. You made sure he could still see you through the glass door while you pulled up the computer and booted up the system. The machine first took his height, weight, and BMI, and logged it into his profile. While it was scanning him, you filled in the physical descriptions for the volunteer applicant notes.

You kept an eye on the scanning program while filling out the form. As the scan developed you noticed something that forced you to flip over to his scan. Abnormalities in the prefrontal lobe and hippocampus, the two main regions of the brain that store memory.

His scans were almost completed when you started to notice something. The machine took a scan of the internal structure of his metal arm as well as the outside. You zoomed in on the components within the mechanism. You noticed the way that the nerves of his arm connected to the wiring of the arm. It was a sloppy job, you could have done so much better.

While staring intensely at the screen, you noticed something within the wiring and connections that gave you an idea for your project. As your brain was processing the information you were seeing, Bucky exited the scanner and walked over to you by the computer. He leaned down over your shoulder to get a closer look.

“Woah, is that me? That’s pretty cool.”

He noticed your intense staring at the computer with a look of shocked realization on your face. “Are you okay?”

“That’s it.” You whispered.

“What’s it?” Bucky asked, trying to get you to say your thoughts aloud.

“That’s it that's exactly what I needed!” Your excitement and joy were obvious in the tone of your voice. You looked over at Bucky who met you with a smile as equally excited as yours.

“I could kiss you! Oh my gosh, thank you!” You raved as you scrambled for a tablet to write down all the thoughts in your brain.

Bucky chuckled and straightened his posture.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

Instincts took over as you rolled onto your toes and pressed your lips onto Buckys. He was too shocked to react before you pulled away from him with a smirk on your face. His face was red with a growing smile creeping its way onto them.

“Did I do that?” he asked, scared he might have made you do something you didn’t want to do.

“No.” You responded with a sweet smile.

“I did.”

A smile filled with adoration appeared on his face as he looked at you. Bucky leaned down and kissed your lips again. His lips were slightly chapped and the stubble on his face tickled your chin. He tasted sweet and minty, leaving you wanting more as he pulled away.

“I’ll cover for you while you work.” Bucky offered before placing another quick kiss on your lips. He headed for the door, grabbing and putting on his shirt on before reaching the handle.

“I thought I had to go to sleep?” You questioned.

Bucky paused halfway through the door and turned to face you.

“We both know you’re not going to sleep until it’s done.

Your project was complete and fully functional. It felt like you had just climbed mount everest for this accomplishment, but it was done.

You left your lab in the late evening, sleep finally catching up to you. You entered the common room from the elevator and noticed most of the Avengers watching a movie in the living room. You made a lazy attempt at greeting your friends.

“Y/n,” Tony called which stopped you in your tracks.

“I told you to go to bed six hours ago.” He commented, checking his watch for the time.

“You did.” You agreed.

“The prosthetic is done, by the way. Now I’m going to sleep.”

You dismissed yourself from the conversation, but not before making eye contact with Bucky who sat next to Steve on the couch. He smirked a little and gave you a wink. You reciprocated it before continuing to make your way toward your bedroom. Before you shut the door, you heard Tony say;

“Did you have something to do with this, Barnes?”

Part 1/2

A/N

I would love to take inspiration from readers any put them into stories and shorts! Please don’t hesitate to message me directly or use my ask inbox! 💜💜

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practically-an-x-man · 25 days ago

Text

The Shroud of Morning (Vivienne x Wojchek)

Summary: It’s rare that a sailor gets time on dry land. It’s even rarer, at least for some, that he chooses to take that time away from his duties and enjoy it.

Wojchek works hard and works often. His wife prefers the simple joys when they present themselves.

Word Count: 2.3k

Tags: OC x canon, established relationship, married couple, historical fantasy, banter, sirens (mythological)

Crossposted on AO3

____

The docks were cast in early-morning shadows. The sun had not yet risen, and the world was tinted in shades of thick, rich blue. The ocean was calm and infinitely dark, a gateway to another world.

Hardly anybody was awake at such an hour, merely a few devoted sailors rigging their ships and early-rising bakers preparing their morning pastries. The docks were pleasantly quiet, with only the lapping of the tide against ships’ hulls and the occasional crow of a nearby seabird. It seemed as though the very world was not awake, the desolation somehow both calming and unsettling.

Vivienne had always loved mornings like this. High above her, the vast form of the Demeter rose in even, algae-slicked planks. The water was cold around her body, though she did not shiver. The siren ducked under the water, looking at the world through cool gray shadows, then burst up towards the surface. It hooked its elbows onto the upper railing of the deck, letting the rest of its body hang loosely over the hull. Its tail, a powerful machine of crimson and violet, was hidden from the docks by the Demeter’s leviathan form.

“Your crew does not leave port for hours.” she said, calling out to a shadowed figure hard at work across the deck. He lifted his head at the sound of her voice, though he waited to answer until he had tied off the rope in his hands with a secure sailor’s knot.

“Then the Demeter will be ready when we do.” he responded, offering her only a glance at his dark eyes before he was back to his duties. Vivienne sighed. Its tail knocked against the slick surface of the hull beneath it. Nearly twice as long as a man was tall and with soft, feathery fins like the fighting-fish from the East, it hid its strength behind a mosaic of jewel-toned scales. Yet it pushed her through the water faster than even the Demeter itself, and a single blow could shatter a man’s ribcage.

“Have you spent so long at sea that the salt has found its way into your soul?” she huffed, and eased her head onto her crossed arms to peer at her husband, “So… stoic all the time. Never a single moment spent enjoying yourself.”

“There are bigger things than me. The Demeter must reach her destination in peace. And I must guide her.”

“And I must guide you,” Vivienne said, and leaned over the railing to grin at him, “To the bakery I saw just past the fish markets. Join me for breakfast, Antoni.”

It caught his eyes for another brief moment, and thought it saw a flash of amusement cross his face. Vivienne’s tail brushed the slick planks of the ship below it, the only spark of color against the misty gray morning around her.

“A bakery behind the fish market,” Wojchek repeated, amusement weaving softly through the words. He was a quiet man, at least in these early mornings. Come noon he would be shouting commands to his crew, and his voice would rise on the winds like the seabirds that flew high above, but here he was quiet. His voice, laughing as it was, belonged only to her. “Must smell to high heaven.”

This she could work with. She had his eyes now, had his attention, if only for the moment. He never stopped moving, hands skirting over the rigging lines and testing their tension as he paced the deck, but his eyes were fixed only on her. She had never needed her magic to entrance him.

“You live your life on the ocean, my dear. I doubt you even notice it.”

“Hm.”

“I could smell the sugar-glaze all down the street. It is decadence, Antoni. Does your wife not deserve decadence?”

Vivienne lowered itself back to its forearms with a theatrical sigh, draping itself over the railing in a grandiose, feminine swoon. It passed its fingers through its hair, long wet strands plastered against its ice-pale skin.

“I spend my life with salt on my skin and water in my hair. I’ve hardly seen a forest in ages, let alone the sight of a face not cracked by ocean winds,” it drawled, calling to mind the stories it wove during long nights on the water. As she spoke, she twined her fingers around the thin chain that laid at her throat, watching the metal glint against the first sparks of sunrise. “The seawater crusts my clothing and tarnishes my wedding band. I have known not of silks nor soft linens in years. Yet I do all of this to follow my beloved husband on his journeys, and he cannot spare me a single morning away from his duties…”

Vivienne concluded its harangue with another weary sigh, dropping its head onto its arms as if exhausted at the very thought. Her hair fell around her face in a soft wet curtain, hiding the smile that twisted at her lips.

This was merely theatre, of course. It was from the water that he had found her, from the water that she lived so much of her life both before and after his entrance to it, from the water that she found strength and freedom and purpose. Her husband knew that she was not one for finery, nor was ever truly offended that he could not offer her a gentle life. Vivienne did not want a gentle life.

And if he were genuinely so devoted to his work that he could not pull himself away, it understood that too. This was far from the first morning spent in this way.

But it had him snared in this little dance, and it knew it.

“You married a man of the sea, rybko.” he said, though his voice was near and his fingers brushed the hair from her face as he spoke, “If you wanted pastries, you should have married a baker.”

“If you wanted a wife that asks for nothing, you should not have married a sea-beast.” it replied, with a sturdy slap of its tail against the hull of the ship, “I am the strength of Poseidon in its concentrated form. Placating me will please him. Perhaps you will be free of storms for your precious Demeter.”

Her husband placed his thumb under her chin and tilted her head to meet his eyes. He appeared to be considering her words. There was a look of contemplative seriousness on his face - though in truth, it was rare that expression ever left.

“So it’s a matter of luck, then?”

“Why, always. You do your part to secure the ship’s safety, but what of the safety of the ocean itself?” Vivienne responded, with an effort to keep the smile off her face. She loved these little stories, and loved that he would let her tell them. Whether it was a tale to entertain the crew or late-night whisperings to help him sleep, or simply this early-morning tête-à-tête, he seemed to relish in the sound of her voice.

“You are a lucky man,” it continued, “My sisters would ask for grandeur and riches in exchange for the safety of your ship. They would drain your pockets and eat your heart when you drowned. All I ask is to share a meal with my husband. Is that so much?”

He looked at her for a moment longer, eyeing with affection the face that so many others found unsettling, with its icy blue tint and its eyes lacking irises and its too-smooth poreless skin. And she matched that gaze, to this hardened man she called her scoundrel and her sea-dog and her husband, until he offered her a shadow of a smile. Wojchek released his hold on her chin and took a step back.

“Hm. If it does come down to luck, you must leave. Bad luck to have a woman on the ship.”

“I am not a woman, Antoni.”

“You’re right. She-devil.”

“You love me, my dear.”

He closed the distance between them once more, near enough that she could feel the heat from his skin against the misty gray morning. He set his palm, callused and rough, against its chest just below its collarbone.

He pushed.

Vivienne hit the water below with a fearsome splash. Its tail struck the floor of the harbor with a surprising impact and coiled beneath her, and a film blinked across her eyes to shield from the sudden rush of seawater.

She was back only a moment later, dripping saltwater onto the deck of the Demeter.

“Now, was that a gentlemanly thing to do?”

“I have never claimed to be a gentleman.” her husband replied, now returned to his task with the rigging lines, “And you know the tradition. Women on board is for Poseidon to deal with.”

“He’s dealt with me once. How do you think I became one of his storms?”

Her words must have intrigued him, because he paused again in his task to look at her.

“You were human? Before?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. You know yours is not the only ring I’ve worn,” Vivienne said, and pressed its fingers to its throat, “What I have not told you is how that story ends. I am saving that one.”

“I have heard all the rest. Why not that one?”

“I share my tales to help you sleep. That one would do the opposite.”

His mouth twisted in a frown, as if he’d drawn his own conclusion from the words and the stories she had shared in the past - so many of them telling of rage on the water and adultery on the shore - but he said nothing.

Vivienne’s first husband had died of strychnine poisoning many years before.

She had found it in the cargo hold.

His throat had closed at the same time hers filled with seawater.

But all Wojchek knew was that he was not her only husband, and that he was much better than the first. She intended to keep it that way for some time longer. He was in no danger from her, and never had been, but it was true that the story would not help him sleep.

With a single strong push, Vivienne hoisted itself onto the deck of the Demeter. Its tail receded as it moved, that unwieldy weight dissolving in a rush of strange ocean magic, and she stepped onto the hardwood planks with two bare feet. Waterlogged fabric plastered itself against her waist and legs, as a loose skirt was often the only clothing she wore in her other form. Its skin bloomed pink, that icy cast vanishing along with the faint shine of scales and so many other inhuman traits.

“I could be human for you now, my love, if you’d prefer.”

Vivienne took a lithe and graceful step towards her husband, fixing him with a smile like some kind of wild-thing. The illusion masked its appearance but did little to cover what laid within, and that was of a living storm.

Wojchek spared a single furtive glance towards the docks, his sense of modesty not quite so withered as her own, but the streets were empty and shrouded with fog. He closed the distance between them in just a few long strides and, with a sailor’s confident competence, lifted its tall and slender form easily into his arms. He kissed her deeply, passionately, with enough intent to make the rest of the world fall away around her…

Then he tossed it off the side of the ship and into the harbor.

“Still bad luck to have a woman on deck.”

He peered over the railing, looking with amusement as Vivienne came to surface once again. The water had returned it to its true form, the illusion discarded, and its tail was a dark, thrashing shadow under the wine-dark water.

“Bastard!” it laughed, and took a mouthful of seawater to spit up at him, “The Demeter is your favorite maiden now, is it?”

“Hmph.” he muttered, “She is my home. You are my favorite.”

He looked as though he were ready to say more, rare for a man of such few words, but voices rippled down from the docks and his expression fell closed like a great oak door. The sounds drew nearer, a familiar cacophony of words from a dozen accents and creeds.

“The crew is arriving,” its husband said, dropping his voice to a near-whisper, “You must leave.”

Vivienne slid through the water, away from the voices and behind the cool shadows cast by the Demeter’s vast form, though it did not retreat below the surface just yet. The voices drew nearer still, though she knew from the sound that they had not yet reached the ship.

“Find yourself a spare moment, Antoni,” she said, daring to share just a few more words, “I would like to break my fast with you before the Demeter leaves port.”

“You would break your fast with me, siren?” he returned, “You would eat my heart?”

“I would settle for a pastry.”

She drew herself up the planks again and took hold of the rail, risking being seen from the docks for only a moment as she pressed a kiss to her husband’s cheek. The crew were nearly to the ship now, and it could hear their hollow, echoing footsteps against the ramp as they came aboard. Vivienne stole one more moment, claiming those final scraps of quiet companion, before finally releasing her grip on the railing and falling back below the veil that was the water’s surface.

“I will meet you on the docks, my dear.”

____

[rybko - Polish, pet name meaning "sweetie" or "little fish"]

#my writing #my ocs #oc vivienne #oneshot #established relationship #historical fantasy #last voyage of the demeter #lvotd fanfiction #wojchek #oc x canon

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softquietsteadylove · 1 year ago

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Hi can you write a full on pregnancy journey between thenamesh and the eternals find out about it as well and gilgamesh is helping thena through giving birth

By all odds, Eternals cannot reproduce. It's not in their physical makeup--they're not organic beings. But there are timelines, and universes, and powers beyond mortality. The Elemental Eternal is proof of that. With her evolution comes exceptions.

She doesn't turn the Illusionist Eternal human, she returns life to the Strongest. And with his renewed life, came an unprecedented circumstance.

The Warrior Eternal became pregnant.

Without Ajak's guidance, they only had so much insight. Phastos performed every scan and test, Druig assessed what he could at the subconscious level, Sprite even tried constructing an early image of the fetus in a sort of ultrasound. Kingo proclaimed to have knowledge from playing a doctor - once - but was denied acknowledgement.

But none of them knew how to bring an immortal life into the world--or if it would, in fact, be immortal at all.

Sersi had brought her sister's dearest love back to life, forsaking even her own loved one. Thena, upon hearing the news of her new role in life, had grasped Sersi's hand. The Alchemist was confused until she saw the tears in her sister's eyes, whispering, "I'm sorry, I know how much you wanted this."

Sersi burst into tears, wrapping her arms around Thena's shoulders. She had always dreamed of transmuting life in its rawest sense. In this way, she somewhat felt that she had.

So, with the family of Eternals with only themselves, they embarked on raising this new form of 'life'.

Sersi was the only one who even remotely knew what to expect. She told what she knew, did further research. Phastos and Makkari concentrated on reading every material the human world - and beyond - had to offer. Druig was quietly attentive, never admitting to concern but always hovering nearby and commenting on if Thena or the budding consciousness she was harbouring desired something.

Gilgamesh was beside himself.

For all the years upon centuries upon millennia he had spent by Thena's side, they had never had to consider this a possibility for them. And while he usually had the typical minutia to worry about - Thena's general well being, health, Mahd Wy'ry - he now had a whole other set of problems.

He was beside her every second, reluctant to so much as look away from her and their child. Everyone told him he was being excessive, including Thena herself. But he refused to leave her again. He promised her as much, anyway. He stayed close, made sure they both knew he was there.

He cooked nutritious meals, made sure they got their rest. He was a little more insistent with his brothers and sisters than they were used to. Either he was asking Phastos and Makkari for what they had read about pregnancy or he was asking Druig how the baby 'felt'.

He asked Sprite for illusion 'ultrasounds' so often that she eventually stopped obliging him, saying that unless Thena asked, she was no longer their ultrasound machine.

Sersi threw herself into tending to Thena, and their child to whom she would be a second mother if anything happened to Thena. Sersi attempted to forbid her from saying such things, but Thena said that she had heard of such practices before, and if it had to be anyone, it could be no one but Sersi.

Phastos had complained that he had an actual child, and that Jack was even fond of Thena (for some reason) and vice versa! Thena said that yes, she was very fond of Jack too. But he and Ben would have their hands full with their human child, no less whatever immortal creature she spawned (her own words).

"Are you sure about this?" she could remember Gilgamesh asking her about halfway through. It was nowhere near the normal number of months for a human gestation, but they had to assume that their advanced cell strength and regeneration was translating into the growth of the baby.

"It is far too late to ask that," she answered, her hands on her stomach, swollen to accommodate their child.

"I mean," he shifted, taking hold of her hand next to the bed she nearly constantly occupied. Although she denied it, she had to all but be on bed rest, supplying the baby with not only her Cosmic Energy but much of her physical energy as well. "We don't have any experience in this--none of us. Are we sure we can get through this?"

Thena looked up at the ceiling, seriously considering the reality of their situation, and the question related. She patted her stomach, a subconscious motion she had taken on in the last two weeks. "Yes."

Gilgamesh chuckled, kissing her hand, "that easy, huh?"

"Hm," she smiled, relishing the small but heavy affection. "It will in no way be easy. But we can do this, is what I'm saying."

He sighed, tilting his head at her, "you'll be doing the hard part. I can be here as much as I can, but there's nothing I can do for the pain of what you'll go through."

None of them had any concept of what it would mean to give birth.

Thena let him moved the back of her hand to his cheek, always cooler to the cheek than his warmer skin. "I have no fear."

"I know you don't," he lamented more than complimented, "but maybe, just this once-"

"Gilgamesh," she said softly, pulling his eyes to hers. Her still and unwavering eyes, "I do not fear this. I will endure anything to bring this being to life."

Gil's eyes watered, "I don't want you to have to."

"Be that as it may," she soothed, moving her palm to his cheek, "I choose to allow this life shelter within me, and I have already decided that it is this life that takes precedence now--over my own, over anything else."

He shook his head, "Thena-"

"I'm sorry."

He blinked through his tears, although Thena's always became glassy.

"I have experienced living without you," she admitted, her throat tight with the difficulty of such words, "no matter how brief. I know that I am asking something unbearable of you."

Gilgamesh buried his burning eyes within the warmth of her palm.

"But the young one comes first, before all else," she insisted. She brushed his tears away and forced his eyes back to hers, "swear to me."

He nodded, unable to say it just yet. To speak such an unthinkable thing was too much for him. He had only just died and come back to life within the same twelve months. And now life threatened to both give him the greatest gift and take away his greatest treasure?

"I will be with you," she promised, rubbing her belly with her free hand again, "in a way."

That was the last they had spoken of the potential worst possibility.

The birth was hard. It took all their resources to keep everyone calm, let alone actually help with the process. Makkari and Sersi did their best, Sprite insisting that she couldn't possibly stomach the reality of what was happening. She could be heard whispering to Kingo the fear that they would lose Thena this time.

Phastos kept an eye on Thena's health, although the actual act of birth had taken more strength from the Warrior Eternal than they ever could have anticipated. All the equipment at their disposal was just barely keeping her conscious as her body prepared to, in a way, deliver its own form of Celestial.

"Thena, come on, just stay with me," Gilgamesh would whisper, his lips always close to her skin, her hair, something. He held her hand, which would have broken with her efforts were it not for his exoskeleton.

She stared upward, delirious from her efforts, her pulse thready and her skin covered in a cold sweat. "When?"

"Almost there, Thena," Sersi promised on her sister's other side, dabbing her flushed skin, "I promise, just a little more."

Makkari waved, it's time!

"Come on, Thena, one more deep breath," Sersi pleaded, squeezing her shoulders as Makkari got into position.

"Almost there," Gil whispered to her, "then you can hold our baby."

Thena's pupils widened. The baby.

A shrill cry broke the air. Breath was held as Makkari held the tiny life, washing it off and wrapping it up as Sersi had told her. There was no 'cord', like Sersi had told her, but she watched as a golden thread of energy dissolved into the air. She tilted her head.

There's no belly button, Makkari shrugged, as if that were all that significant a detail. But other than that, she's beautiful.

Sersi's eyes lit, "she?"

Makkari shrugged again but smiled as she handed the baby over to Sersi first, I guess--looks an awful lot like Thena not to be.

Sersi blinked through her tears; it was true, the little bundle looked like a tiny Thena, even with wisps of the same sun glow hair.

"Sersi," Thena struggled just to lift her arms, "please."

"Here," she whispered, leaning down carefully and depositing the baby into Thena's arms and over her lap. "Look at her, Thena, she's perfect."

"Perfect," Gilgamesh whispered, gazing upon a child of his own. He had always gotten along with human kids, maybe even gotten attached to a select few, like Jack, or Odin's little pup once upon a time. But this--this was entirely different.

"Oh," Thena blinked, her voice unmistakably melted and sweet. She smiled, "she has your eyes."

Indeed, the little one blinked and had massive, warm brown eyes, like the Strongest Eternal himself. She looked up at Thena, and then over at her father, who only dissolved further.

"Hello little one," Gilgamesh whispered, as if even his voice would be too much for his new treasure to bear. He offered his finger to her itty-bitty hand.

She was already capable of a strong grip.

"She incredible," Sersi whispered to her sister, pressing her lips to Thena's hair. "What will you name her?"

Thena gazed at her child.

Makkari and Phastos also looked over amidst the work of making sure Thena was stable and going to fetch the others.

"Olympia has always been home in our minds," Thena spoke gently, "even though there is no such thing. And yet when I say it, I still think of home--the same feeling I get when I think of Australia."

Gilgamesh leaned over, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"There shall be an Olympia," Thena declared, her eyes meeting that of her child, already so wise. "You shall be the meaning of home now, little one."

"Olympia!" Sersi gasped.

Thena looked up at her, "you are crying even more than Gilgamesh."

"So?" Sersi sniffled, barely able to see through her tears at all.

Thena let Gilgamesh take Olympia from her arms, just enough for her to recline in the bed more. "Let them in, they should meet her."

"Oi Sis!--you-"

Gil glared at the doorway, "keep your voice down."

Druig clapped his jaw shut, his teeth clacking loudly.

Kingo chuckled, for once, the most tactful of their chaotic little family. He strode in, Sprite clinging to him nervously. He smiled at Thena, "you made it."

She smiled back at her most opposite but undeniably dear brother. "You did too."

Gilgamesh tilted the bundle in his arms, although he obviously wouldn't be letting anyone else try holding her just yet. "This is Olympia."

Kingo smiled still, as if having anticipated the name that was preinstalled in all their heads. "She's beautiful, you guys."

"Gilgamesh," Thena spoke up from the bed, but he shook his head, already knowing what she was going to ask of him. He turned away, leaning over his bundle of joy. She let out a faint laugh as Kingo made his way to her bedside, "you'll have to hold her later."

He allowed the selfishness, "I think he's earned the right to hog her for a little."

"Oi sis," Druig greeted all the same, although in a whisper as he scurried over to her other wide with Makkari and Sersi. "How you doin'?"

She was still smiling, elated to be on the other side of her trauma, no matter how beautiful. She let her brother pat her shoulder, "I have experienced worse...I think."

Druig snorted, "well, for what it's worth, I've never considered you tougher."

Thena looked over to where Gilgamesh was protectively huddling over Olympia, protecting her from her own Uncles and Aunts. She puffed through her nose faintly, "if you can get close enough, take a look at her. See what she's thinking."

Druig regarded the baby curiously. Even after heading a commune for two hundred years, he had never met a baby quite like this. He waved his hand vaguely in her direction.

Warmth

Makkari rubbed his back as he swiped at his eyes. Different, huh?

He nodded, slinging his arm lazily around her shoulders. They deserve this.

Makkari watched as Gilgamesh returned to Thena's side, still refusing to let Kingo and Phastos so much as tickle Olympia's cheeks. They do.

"Come on," Sprite grumbled, choosing instead to go over to Thena's side instead of crowding the baby and baby holder.

Thena looked at her youngest - most tentative - sister. "So?--what do you think?"

Sprite pursed her lips petulantly. She eyed Olympia, and her crowd of admirers. She tilted her head, "she's prettier than I imagined."

Thena took neither offense nor humour, but smiled. "You can meet her when you're ready."

And she did. Sprite warmed to the little life, just as she did to rejoining Kingo and even the human Karun instead of the isolation of secrecy.

Kingo and Phastos easily became the most eager to dote on their new little Eternal, although Gilgamesh insisted that he be the only apple of her eye. Druig managed to sneak into her good graces, with Thena's help getting past Gilgamesh's defenses.

Gilgamesh still barely leaves her side, even months after her birth. Despite her short gestation, she seems to age according to the Earth's rotation, as far as Phastos can test.

"Ajak would have loved you," Thena whispers down to the child sleeping in her arms. Whenever she lacks sleep, she does this--walks the halls of the Domo with Olympia for comfort. Her grey robes swish around her as she takes a seat in the awakening chamber. "She would still be crying even now, I'm sure."

Olympia sleeps as soundly as her father does. Apparently this is odd for a baby, which Thena doesn't think makes sense; they need sleep, so why would they be unable to achieve it?

Thena looks up at the looming statue of Arishem. "He has done me no kindnesses. If anything, he has cursed me in many ways."

Olympia doesn't mind. She has no awareness of her mother's ailment, and with the presence of their family to help, she will never witness the uglier consequences either.

Thena smiles down at the little one, though, "but I have you. And I will endure any curse for that."

She looks up at Arishem again. "Not that he had any part in that. If anyone game me you, besides your father, it is in fact godmother Sersi."

Olympia remains unbothered.

Thena presses a kiss to her tiny head, growing more white-blonde hair by the day. "You will learn in time. I will make sure you know of Ajak. And that you never know of Ikaris."

She dislikes even uttering his name in her child's presence.

Not that Olympia minds that either.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

She smiles as Gilgamesh rounds the corner, his grey robes also swaying in the ambient air of the ship. "I wanted to walk."

He comes over to her, checking on their little sunburst and then her. "Come back to bed. I'll hold her if want to look at her while you fall asleep."

She lays her head against his shoulder, "perfect."

#Thenamesh AU #in an alternate universe #this is what Sersi does with the remainder of the unimind energy #and we never speak of Ikaris #also as always #thanks to my girl Dalhia28 #who wrote the original pregnancy fic for these two #I don't usually write pregnancy fics #even just in general #but this fic was asked for very personally #by a very sweet follower #so I'm happy to oblige #I hope you like it!#I actually quite like how this turned out #I did think about the potential names and such #let's just say I already had this idea #and it just fits I think #everyone is obsessed with the baby of course #Phastos and Kingo are both like I am the big brother I am her favourite uncle #just kidding it's Druig #Thena even lets him hold her #Makkari isn't allowed until she's older because they're worried she'll get to excited and vibrate too much for her little bones #Sprite doesn't want to hold her but she does like putting on little illusion puppet shows for her #Gil is o b s e s s e d of course #they're always holding her #Phastos is like I designed and made the perfect bassinet and crib and bed for her #I'm getting a little insulted #Thenamesh Olympia AU

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s666j · 4 months ago

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002 | routine (B)

Haechan

The morning air was crisp and invigorating, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees lining the track. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a warm glow across the field. Haechan stood at the starting line, stretching his muscles, feeling the familiar tingle of anticipation build within him. This was his sanctuary. The track was a place where the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the rhythm of his breath and the pounding of his heart. Here, he could lose himself in the pursuit of perfection, pushing his body to its limits and beyond.

Coach Kim, a veteran in the field of athletics, watched him with a keen eye. His presence was a constant source of motivation, his belief in Haechan’s potential unwavering. “Alright, Haechan,” he called out, clipboard in hand. “Let’s see what you’ve got today. Warm up, and then we’ll start with some speed intervals.”

Haechan nodded, slipping into a series of stretches and dynamic movements designed to prime his body for the exertion ahead. Each movement was precise, a carefully honed routine that prepared him for the challenges to come. The familiarity of the ritual was comforting, a reminder of how far he’d come.With the warm-up complete, Haechan took his position on the track, his mind sharpening to a singular focus. Today’s session was crucial, another step on the path to the Beijing Olympics. The pressure was immense, but it was a pressure he welcomed—an opportunity to test his mettle and prove his dedication.

“Ready?” Coach Kim asked, raising the stopwatch

Haechan crouched at the starting line, eyes fixed on the lane ahead. Every muscle in his body was taut with anticipation, ready to explode into motion.

“Go!”

He launched himself forward, legs pumping with the power of a finely tuned machine. The world blurred around him, reduced to a tunnel of focus and speed. Each stride was a testament to the hours of training and discipline, the relentless pursuit of excellence that drove him. The wind whipped past him, urging him to run faster, harder. He embraced the burn in his muscles, the fire in his lungs—it was the price of progress, the measure of his determination. Coach Kim’s voice echoed in the background, shouting encouragement and reminders to maintain form. Haechan absorbed it all, letting it fuel his efforts, driving him to greater heights.

The first interval passed in a blur, and Haechan slowed to a jog, chest heaving as he gulped down air. The rest was brief, a momentary pause before the next push. Even in those seconds, his mind remained focused, calculating how to shave precious milliseconds off his time.

“Again,” Coach Kim instructed, stopwatch ready. “Keep it tight and explosive. You’re doing great.”

Haechan nodded, wiping sweat from his brow, and returned to the starting line. The second interval began, and once more he launched himself down the track, muscles screaming in protest but heart filled with resolve. Each lap was a battle—a war waged against the clock, against the limits of his own body. But Haechan welcomed it, embraced it, for it was in these moments of struggle that he found clarity and purpose. Here, on the track, he was more than just an athlete; he was a warrior, fighting for his dreams with every stride.

As the session wore on, fatigue set in, a heavy blanket threatening to slow him down. But Haechan refused to yield. He dug deep, drawing on reserves of strength he’d built over years of dedication and sacrifice. He knew what was at stake, knew that every moment mattered in the grand scheme of his aspirations.

“Come on, Haechan, last push!” Coach Kim’s voice was a lifeline, pulling him through the haze of exhaustion. “Finish strong!”

With one final burst of speed, Haechan sprinted the last stretch, pouring everything he had into those final moments. The finish line approached, a blur of white tape that marked the end of this particular trial.

And then it was over. He stumbled to a halt, bending double as he fought to catch his breath. The exertion had left him drained, but there was a satisfaction in it, a deep-seated sense of accomplishment that made every drop of sweat worth it.

Coach Kim approached, a rare smile of approval lighting his features. “Well done, Haechan. You’re on track for something special. Keep this up, and Beijing won’t know what hit it.”

Haechan straightened, a grin spreading across his face despite the fatigue. The praise meant the world coming from Coach Kim, a validation of all the hard work and sacrifices he’d made.

“Thanks, Coach,” he replied, wiping his face with a towel. “I’ll keep pushing.”

The rest of the training session passed in a blur of drills and exercises, each one designed to hone different aspects of his performance. Haechan relished the challenge, thriving under the pressure, finding joy in the pursuit of mastery. By the time the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the track, Haechan’s muscles ached with a familiar, satisfying soreness. The session had pushed him to his limits, but it had also reinforced his dedication to the path he’d chosen.

As he cooled down with a series of stretches, Haechan felt a sense of peace settle over him. The day had begun with exertion and sweat, but it was exactly where he wanted to be, exactly what he needed to feel alive and fulfilled. The Olympics were his goal, a distant star he chased with every ounce of his being. But the journey was just as important, each day a step closer to the person he wanted to become. The locker room was quiet, the steady drip of a leaky faucet the only sound breaking the silence. Haechan sat on the wooden bench, towel draped around his neck, the lingering ache of a demanding training session still present in his muscles. The air was cool against his skin, a welcome contrast to the heat and intensity of the track.

As the adrenaline of his workout ebbed away, he found himself alone with his thoughts. The solitude of the moment allowed him a rare opportunity to reflect on the path he had chosen—the sacrifices he had made in pursuit of his dreams. Athletics had always been Haechan’s passion, a calling that had demanded his full attention and unwavering dedication. Yet, the pursuit of excellence came at a cost. Friends had drifted away over time, their lives diverging from the rigorous schedule he maintained. Invitations to parties and social gatherings grew fewer, replaced by early morning runs and late-night workouts. Haechan thought about the relationships he had missed, the laughter and camaraderie that once filled his days. There was a time when he had been the life of the party, surrounded by friends and carefree adventures. Now, his world was defined by discipline and routine, every decision measured against the demands of his sport.

Despite the loneliness that sometimes crept in, Haechan knew that his sacrifices were not in vain. Each early morning on the track, each grueling session in the gym brought him closer to his goal—the chance to compete on the world stage at the Beijing Olympics. It was a dream that fueled him, a vision that burned brightly in his mind.

He thought of the future, of the possibilities that lay ahead. The sacrifices he made were a testament to his commitment, a reflection of his unwavering determination to be the best. The loneliness, though challenging, was a temporary companion on a journey toward something greater. Haechan reached into his bag, pulling out a small, well-worn notebook. Inside, he had written down his goals and aspirations, a reminder of the path he had chosen. He flipped through the pages, each line a declaration of his dreams and the steps he needed to take to achieve them. As he read through his words, a sense of fulfillment washed over him. The sacrifices he made were not burdens, but investments in his future. Every challenge he faced, every moment of doubt, was a part of the journey—a journey that had shaped him into the person he was today.

With a deep breath, Haechan closed the notebook.

Mark.

Hundreds of miles away, Mark woke to the muted beeping of machines, the soft hum a constant backdrop to his life in the hospital. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting striped patterns on the sterile white walls of his room. He lay still for a moment, listening to the familiar sounds of the ward coming to life—the distant chatter of nurses, the rolling wheels of carts along the linoleum floors, the quiet click of doors opening and closing. His world had narrowed to this room, this bed. It was a space that had become both a refuge and a prison, confining him within its pale walls as the outside world continued to spin without him. Each day was a monotonous cycle of treatments and check-ups, a routine that blurred together into a hazy sameness.

Mark sighed, forcing himself to sit up as a nurse entered the room, her presence bright and efficient. “Good morning, Mark,” she greeted with a smile, adjusting the IV drip beside his bed. “How are you feeling today?”

He shrugged, offering a noncommittal grunt in response. It was the same as every other day, a mix of physical discomfort and emotional fatigue that left him feeling adrift and disconnected. The nurse checked his vitals with practiced efficiency, jotting down numbers on a clipboard before giving him a sympathetic look. “Doctor Na will be in shortly to see you. If you need anything, just let us know, okay?”

Mark nodded, watching her leave before settling back against the pillows. The room was quiet once more, the silence stretching out like a yawning chasm. He stared at the ceiling, tracing the patterns of the tiles with his eyes, trying to find some distraction from the thoughts that swirled relentlessly in his mind. It hadn’t always been this way. There was a time when Mark’s life was filled with dreams and aspirations, a future that seemed bright and full of possibilities. But that was before the diagnosis, before the cancer had invaded his body and his world, dragging him into a reality defined by limitations and uncertainty. Now, each day was a struggle to find meaning in the midst of his confinement, a battle against the creeping tide of despair that threatened to pull him under. He knew the statistics, the prognosis that loomed like a shadow over his thoughts, but it was the loss of control, the loss of normalcy, that weighed most heavily on his heart.

A soft knock at the door interrupted his reverie, and Doctor Na entered, her expression calm and composed. She was a reassuring presence, her demeanor a blend of professionalism and genuine care that made the weight of his situation feel a little less suffocating.

“Good morning, Mark,” she said, pulling up a chair beside his bed. “How are you holding up today?”

Mark managed a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Same as always, I guess.”

Doctor Na nodded, her gaze steady and compassionate. “I know it’s tough, but you’re doing really well. Your latest test results show some improvement, which is encouraging.”

He nodded, trying to muster some semblance of hope from her words. Improvement was good, a step in the right direction, but it was hard to hold onto optimism when the path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty.

They discussed his treatment plan, the adjustments to his medication, and the upcoming tests he would need to undergo. It was a conversation that had become routine, a script they both knew by heart.

“Is there anything you’d like to talk about, any concerns you have?” Doctor Na asked, her tone inviting.

Mark hesitated, struggling to articulate the tangled mess of emotions that churned inside him. “I just… I miss the way things used to be,” he admitted quietly. “I miss being able to do things, to go places. I feel like I’m stuck in this endless loop, and I don’t know how to break out of it.”

Doctor Na nodded, understanding evident in her expression. “It’s completely normal to feel that way, Mark. It’s important to acknowledge those feelings and to find ways to cope with them. Have you considered talking to the hospital counselor? Sometimes it helps to have someone to talk to, someone who can offer a different perspective.”

He nodded again, though he wasn’t sure how much talking could change the reality of his situation. Still, he appreciated her concern, the way she listened without judgment, offering support without pity. After she left, Mark sat in silence for a while, contemplating her words. He knew he needed to find a way to navigate this new reality, to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos. But it was hard to see the path forward when the future felt so uncertain, so out of reach.

The rest of the day unfolded with a predictable rhythm—meals delivered on trays, nurses coming and going, each check-up a reminder of his frailty. Mark found himself counting the minutes, the hours, waiting for something to break the monotony. He picked up the worn paperback on his bedside table, hoping to lose himself in its pages, but his mind kept drifting, unable to focus on the words. The story was a familiar one, a favorite that had brought him comfort in the past, but now it felt like a hollow echo of a life he couldn’t quite touch.

Frustrated, he set the book aside and reached for his sketchpad, hoping the act of drawing might offer some relief from the weight of his thoughts. Art had always been a refuge for Mark, a way to express what he couldn’t put into words. But as he stared at the blank page, his hand faltered, unable to summon the creativity that once flowed so easily.

The depression was a heavy cloak, smothering the spark of inspiration, the will to create. It was as if the colors of the world had dimmed, leaving only shades of gray that matched the pallor of his skin. With a sigh, Mark closed the sketchpad and lay back against the pillows, eyes closed against the brightness of the room. The fatigue was bone-deep, a constant companion that left him feeling hollow and spent.

He listened to the sounds of the hospital—the distant conversations, the beeping of machines, the rhythmic footsteps of nurses making their rounds. It was a symphony of routine, each note a reminder of the life he once had, the life he longed to return to. In the quiet moments between treatments, Mark’s mind drifted to memories of simpler times—days spent exploring the city, evenings filled with laughter and friends, nights spent dreaming of a future filled with possibilities. Those memories were bittersweet now, tinged with the longing for a freedom that felt impossibly distant.

The night had settled quietly over both worlds, a velvet blanket strewn with stars stretching across the sky. In Universe A, the city was alive with the distant hum of cars and the glow of streetlights, while in Universe B, the hospital ward was hushed and still, the world outside a serene expanse of calm.

In his small apartment in Universe A, Haechan lay sprawled on his bed, the sheets tangled around him. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp, casting shadows that danced along the walls. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions. The day had been long, filled with classes and laughter, study sessions and moments of quiet reflection. But as the night deepened, Haechan found himself wrestling with a familiar restlessness—a longing for something just beyond his grasp. He thought of Mark, of the future they were building together, the dreams they shared and the uncertainties that lay ahead. Despite the love and support they gave each other, Haechan couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that whispered in the back of his mind. Was he truly on the right path? Was he doing enough to keep up with Mark’s brilliance, his potential?

Haechan sighed, rolling onto his side and pulling the pillow closer. The city’s lights twinkled outside his window, a constant reminder of the world’s endless possibilities. Somewhere out there, his future awaited—full of challenges and triumphs, risks and rewards. He just had to find the courage to face it.

Meanwhile, in Universe B, Mark lay in his hospital bed, the sterile room bathed in the gentle light of a single lamp. The machines around him hummed softly, their rhythmic beeping a constant companion in the quiet solitude. The day had been a blur of treatments and conversations, each one a reminder of the precarious balance between hope and despair. Despite Dr. Na’s encouraging words, Mark felt the weight of his reality pressing down on him, a heavy cloak that smothered his dreams.

Yet, as he gazed out the window at the stars, he felt a flicker of something deep within—a spark of longing, a whisper of anticipation. It was as if the universe itself was calling to him, urging him to hold onto hope, to believe in a future that was still unwritten. Mark closed his eyes, letting the calm of the night wash over him. In his mind’s eye, he saw a different life—a life filled with color and light, with moments of joy and laughter, free from the constraints of illness. It was a vision that filled him with a bittersweet ache, a reminder of the possibilities that lay just beyond his reach.

Across the divide between their worlds, Haechan and Mark shared a moment of quiet reflection, each caught in the currents of their own thoughts, yet somehow connected by a thread of shared longing. It was a connection that transcended the boundaries of time and space, a bond that hinted at something more.

As Haechan drifted into sleep, he felt a strange sense of anticipation, a feeling that change was coming—a shift in the winds that would carry him toward new horizons. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the thought filled him with a quiet excitement, a promise of adventures yet to come. In Universe B, Mark felt a similar stirring in his soul, a sense that his journey was far from over. Despite the challenges he faced, there was a part of him that refused to surrender, a part that clung fiercely to the hope of a brighter tomorrow.

Both young men lay in their respective beds, worlds apart yet inexplicably linked by a shared sense of purpose, a shared dream of something greater. It was a connection that would soon become undeniable, a catalyst for change that neither could have anticipated. As the night deepened and the stars wheeled overhead, Haechan and Mark embraced the uncertainty of their paths, each resolved to face whatever challenges lay ahead with courage and determination.

In the quiet darkness, they both found solace in the knowledge that they were not alone, that their stories were part of a larger tapestry woven by fate and destiny. And though they didn’t yet know it, their lives were about to intersect in ways that would forever alter the course of their journeys. As sleep finally claimed them, Haechan and Mark surrendered to the dreams that awaited—dreams of possibilities and potential, of new beginnings and endless horizons. And in that shared dreamscape, they both saw a future filled with hope and promise, a future that was theirs to create.

In the quiet moments before the world stirred to life, they both felt the pull of that invisible thread, the bond that connected them across time and space.

#nct dream #haechan #mark lee #mahae #nct 127 #markhyuck #nct

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gester-tester · 1 year ago

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prestotesting · 1 year ago

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Fully Digital bursting Strength tester machine - Testing Instruments

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omegaxlore · 1 year ago

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지구 - 양혁

word count: 3237 warnings : guns , gunshots

His mother had always assumed she gave birth to a real-life Superman. Turns out it was much deeper and scarier than she or her husband could imagine.

From a young age Hyuk always knew he was different, and he loved every part of it. Despite being raised to hide his ability from the world and to appear as normal as he could, Hyuk rebelled every chance he got.

When he was a toddler, Hyuk didn’t understand why he had to hide his ability, wasn’t it normal? One of the last days he went to a park as a toddler until it was banned, Hyuk lifted several rather large rocks. Rocks three times his weight. Hyuk had figured that he needed to show off, to be the alpha as some would say. To prove he was the strongest and the coolest. Of course the other kids found this cool and tried to lift the heavy rocks too but couldn’t do it. Hyuk was confused, why couldn’t they lift it at all? The other parent’s were mortified to say the least.

Hyuk’s father picked him up and they swiftly left the park.

At home Hyuk’s parents had to sit and explain, to four-year-old Hyuk, that he was not normal- not like the other kids.

“You must never show your ability to anyone,” his mother told him.

“Why?” Hyuk asked- his favorite word for the conversation.

“Someone bad could see and take you away,” his father didn’t sugarcoat it, and it scared Hyuk. He burst into tears. His mother consoled him and told him about how she and his father would help figure out how to hide Hyuk’s abilities.

And that’s exactly what they did. For years, they practiced about hiding his ability and playing it off that he was normal like everyone else. They did test runs in public. They went horrible at first, but slowly they improved until it was mastered. Hyuk was homeschooled until it was mastered. It took three and a half years. So Hyuk started in the second half of the second grade/year at a prestigious private school. His parents worked extra hard to donate extra money to school in case anything ever happened and they couldn’t just expel him.

But of course, as kids grow, the more rebellious they become.

When Hyuk’s parents weren’t watching he always messed around with things. Of course he did it without anyone looking. He knew to be careful- his father’s words still ring in his ears.

There were several cases in which Hyuk received weird looks when his strength took over. Hyuk was scrawny- stick and bone others would comment. How could someone so skinny break a door handle? How could he crack glass by bumping into it? How did he get the snack machine to drop his favorite snack by hitting it? Quickly Hyuk noticed these eyes and he ran out of excuses, especially when they started to become more bizarre cases. Most of the time he didn’t mean to use his abilities. He just knew how to hide them but was not trained to not use it.

As often as he could, Hyuk would go on a hike into the mountains to train and to build on muscle after his few trips to the gym were unsuccessful and he continued to get looks from people. After his first trip to the mountains, Hyuk discovered while he was strong he was not invincible- his knuckles bloodied when he would punch the side of mountains, rocks, or trees. So on his second trip to the mountains, he brought gloves to help protect his hands, and they did an okay job. He would have to replace them after every few trips, but his trips were paying off. He was building muscle. His training, eating habits, and protein drinks were helping him build the look he needed.

With his bulked up muscles, Hyuk no longer received weird looks when something happened. Now he had a plausible excuse. Instead of weird looks he received feared looks. While still some-what following his parents' rules, Hyuk took up a new ‘hobby’.

He picked on bullies. Every single one of them. Teaching them a small lesson in what it’s like to be a victim. Of course this brought trouble, but the school never expelled him. Mostly due to his parents donating so much money as well as all the bullies’ victims vouching for Hyuk as well. He became legendary at school. Bullying became non-existent. So Hyuk reached out to other schools, and within a semester, bullying in the area ceased due to Hyuk.

Hyuk, of course, became bored once again. How was he going to mess around with his abilities if there was nothing for him to do? Bored of moving rocks and no one to punish. But that all changed the day he was introduced to the gangs that ran certain parts of his city. The first encounter was simple, the members were beaten so badly that instead of jail they were sent to the hospital. The thrill of stopping bad guys became Hyuk’s new ‘hobby’. The thrill of it brought him so much energy.

Of course that is all until now.

Hyuk stands, barely breaking sweat and not out of breath. Several guys scattered around him, unconscious from the beating they received. Several more men stand in front of him, out of breath but still ready and able to fight.

Hyuk would not back down. Every single man that came at him, he would take on. Hand-to-hand. He would be the reason everything is safe.

He knocks another man twice his size unconscious. Hyuk shakes out his wrists and rolls his shoulders, looking back at the group of men in front of him.

Something in the corner of Hyuk’s eye distracts him. Something moved, but it wasn’t one of the men. That’s when one of the gang members do it. They pull out a gun and fire it. The bullet, too fast to avoid, rips through Hyuk’s shoulder.

Hyuk screams in pain, his body wiping backwards with the force of the bullet and onto the ground.

Something jumps from the shadows and in front of Hyuk. Pools of shadows roll out like clouds from under the cloak dn envelope the rest of the men in darkness. The sound of crackling lightning scares the men. But they are all swiftly rendered unconscious with the traveling lightning coursing through all the metal around them.

“Let’s go,” the cloaked person tells Hyuk, helping him up. Hyuk yells in pain, the cloaked person grabbing his injured arm.

They lead Hyuk away before the black mist disappears. Groaning men on the floor, bodies twitching from the level of volts their bodies endured. Enough to hurt, not injure or kill though.

“Where are we going? Who are you?” Hyuk asks, groaning in pain. The masked person still had not let go of his arm. Instead the person leads him down several allies then up a flight of stairs towards a door.

The open it and shove Hyuk inside before looking behind them and then closing the door.

“Who are yo-” Hyuk stops when he sees the person under the dark hood. Goosebumps rise along his skin. Why did he he feel enchanted all of a sudden.

“Sit,” they demand, pointing to spot in front of a worn down couch. Hyuk obeys.

“Who are you?” Hyuk curiously asks.

“Poaegi,” they respond pulling out a rather large first aid kit before sitting on the couch behind him, “What you did was stupid.”

“I was getting rid of bad guys,” Hyuk counters.

“You are not listening,” Poaegi snaps, “You. Could. Have. Been. Killed.”

“It’s impossible to kill me,” Hyuk scoffs, irritated that he's being scolded by a stranger. Poaegi puts pressure on his wound and Hyuk yells. He turns around and stares at Poaegi, pissed. Poaegi returns the look of pure rage. Hyuk backs down, slightly scared. He turns around and faces forward. He watches Poaegi work on his shoulder through the black screen of the television.

“Where are we?” Hyuk asks.

“A safe house,” Poaegi responds, eyes trained on the medical supplies and his wound. They work cautiously but quickly.

“A safe house?” Hyuk repeats, “what are you? Some special, secret government agent?”

“Not quite,” Poaegi answers and wipes a numbing gel over Hyuk’s wound, causing him to hiss, “it’s one of the several safe houses my parent’s instated for when the Ethereals awakened.”

“You must be on drugs. What the hell are Ethereals?” Hyuk spats.

“You,” Poaegi pulls out a pad, and they dab away some more blood. Goosebumps rise on Hyuk’s skin.

“Finally, an answer, right?” Poaegi laughs, “Ethereals are beings created by the universe to control the elements. There are 12, and you, Yang Hyuk, are one of them. Earth.”

“Why me? What does that even mean?”

“Wish I knew why too,” Poaegi grabs the wrap with their free hand, their other hand holding the pad against the completely numb wound, “but it means that a great danger is waking up, and soon it will come after the twelve. I’ve come to collect the Ethereals. You have to defeat whatever this monster is. I’ve only heard legends. The last time the mons-”

“You sound crazy!” Hyuk pulls away from Poaegi who is mid-wrapping the wound. He pushes himself off the ground and stands before Poaegi.

“Then explain yourself,” Poaegi challenges, “explain how I did all that as well.”

Hyuk laughs and shakes his head, “I don’t need to subject myself to any of this. I’m out of here.” Hyuk grabs his torn and bloody shirt, putting it on.

“What happens when those men find out where you live?” Poaegi questions, “where you live with your parents. Your innocent parents.”

Hyuk turns around, full of rage, and screams, “YOU DON’T KNOW ME! I CAN PROTECT THEM!” Hyuk walks out the door, slamming it behind him.

“Well that went well,” a male voice says.

“Could have been nicer, but that’s my opinion,” another male states.

Four men move out of the shadows. Poaegi turns to them.

“Need I remind you how stubborn you were, Moon Jehyun?” Poaegi counters, another man chuckles, “you too, Lee Jinwoo.”

“So what do we need to do now?” The final boy speaks, adjusting his wings.

“We need to beat him to his house. I have a feeling those men are going to find him,” Poaegi tells them.

“Do you need me to scout ahead?” the winged one asks.

“No, I can’t risk you being seen here,” Poaegi tells him, “it’s too open. We will go on foot.” Poaegi cleans up the medical supplies and they all head out the door.

“Jaehan, your wings,” Poaegi reminds him.

Hyuk angrily marches home, grumbling quietly to himself.

He earns horrified looks from those he passes by, but not one dares to offer their help.

Your innocent parents.

Hyuk scowls harder, biting his teeth. He would show Poaegi. He would show them he can handle himself and protect his parents.

Hyuk turned down his neighborhood street, unaware of those around him. He marches right up the stairs to his front door and walks in. His anger suddenly disappears. His childhood home always had that effect on him.

“Mom? Dad? I’m home!” Hyuk calls. He walks further into the house.

“Mom? Dad?” Hyuk calls, not seeing anyone.

Suddenly loud bangs and shattered glass fill the silence. Hyuk throws his body to the floor. Holes in the wall around him leave Hyuk wide eyed.

What happens when those men find out where you live?

“How do you know where he lives again?” Hwichan asks.

“Not important Hwichan,” Poaegi rolls their eyes, “I have to keep tabs on you guys the moment I find you. Sometimes the first moment I find you is never the right one.”

The five of them walk through the back end of Hyuk’s neighborhood when they hear it. Several gunshots and screaming.

The four of them begin to run towards the sounds. At the end of Hyuk’s street the four of them hide behind the side of a house, peering out. Poaegi turns and nods their head to the boys. They quickly run the opposite way, back towards a large tree they passed by moments ago. Xen approaches the tree.

“Out of sight,” Poaegi tells Xen.

“In the mind,” Xen responds. Jaehan helps him up into the tall tree and Xen ties a blindfold over his eyes.

“Jaehan, find the parents,” Poaegi orders, “Hwichan illusions, Jehyun shadows.” Poaegi reaches for their bracelet and pulls off a bow and arrow and it flashes before growing to life size. The three other boys nod and they head in a sprint towards the house.

Parents are hiding in a closet, near the master bedroom. Xen’s voice speaks in their minds. Jaehan instantly opens his wings and takes to the sky.

Five hiding across the street in the bushes. Two behind the cars. Four in the front yard. Three approaching through the back. One body scrambling inside the house- probably Hyuk.

Thanks Xen. Keep watching. Poaegi responds.

“Boys, Take care of the front,” Poaegi orders and quickly the rest of the group goes off. Poaegi heads towards the back of the house. Poegi pulls an arrow out of the quiver and latches it onto the string. They quietly move towards the backyard. The first man comes into view and Poaegi lets go of the serving and the arrow flies towards the man. It hits him in the back- but instead of impaling him the arrow evaporates into electricity, shocking the man unconscious. Poaegi quickly pulls out the next arrow, latching it onto the bowstring. The second man comes to check on the first and Poaegi hits them with the arrow. The third fires a random shower of bullets towards Poaegi’s direction. They slam themselves against the wall. Poaegi pulls out another arrow, notching it to the bowstring.

Poaegi takes a couple breaths, and when the bullet shower stops they pop out from behind the wall and let go of the serving. The arrow flies off towards the third and final guy. As the arrow evaporates and shocks the man, his finger pulls the trigger, another shower of bullets. Poaegi moves, but not without getting hit in the arm with a bullet.

“Ahh,” Poaegi yells, they grip their arm.

Quite lucky, Taedong is not here, Xen comments.

“Not now, Xen!” Poaegi growls. They take a few hissing deep breaths.

They drop the bow and arrows and they return to a charm and appear on the bracelet. Poaegi pulls off the halo charms. They grow to their bracelet size. Poaegi puts them on and heals themself.

Hyuk slams his body to the ground once more, a shower of bullets flying through the broken windows, walls, and door. He army crawls behind a wall. He covers his head, but looks behind him. For anything. Anything that could potentially be a weapon. The knives in the kitchen would be a risk to get. The baseball bats were too far. All of his weight training items were upstairs. He was stuck.

The back door breaks in. Hyuk panics and scrambles to the kitchen across the room, to reach for the knives. A hand stops him. Hyuk looks up to find Poaegi, out of breath and battered.

“Poaegi,” Hyuk gasps, “how did you find me?”

Before Poaegi responds another round of bullets fly through the house. Poaegi tackles Hyuk to the ground.

“Here,” Poaegi pulls off the brass knuckle charm, “put these on. Follow my direct orders.” Hyuk, panicking, puts both brass knuckles on.

“On the count of three you’re going to smash your fist into the ground,” Poaegi orders, “One! Tw-”

“What?” Hyuk panics.

“Three!” Hyuk punches the ground as hard as he can. The ground shakes violently. A small crack opens under his hand and trails to the front of the house, the crack growing bigger and wider.

More men keep showing up.

Poaegi takes a deep uncertain breath.

“What? What’s wrong?” Hyuk asks, “did I do it wrong?”

“No,” Poaegi tells him, “more men are showing up. I know what we need to do… but I need them closer to the house. All of them.”

Xen. Tell Hwichan and Jehyun to lure them here.

“We have to wait. It won’t be long,” Poaegi tells Hyuk. They pull off the bow and arrow charm again.

“Your door frame is made of metal, please tell me it is,” Poaegi begs Hyuk.

“I don’t know,” Hyuk answers, panicking once more.

“Let’s pray it is,” Poaegi pulls an arrow on to the notch and pulls back the bow string, “I get one shot at this.”

Jehyun is the first to enter the house and quickly finds shelter. Quickly after is Hwichan.

I get one shot Xen. Tell me when.

Bullets shower through the walls and doors. Their voices get louder and louder.

“What are you doing?” Hyuk panics and curls up into a ball covering his head.

NOW!

Poaegi lets go of the serving and the arrow flies into the door frame. It evaporates and electricity flies through the air like a firework show, bouncing off every metal object within inches of each other.

All the men being so close that the metal guns they are holding are not only electrocuted but so are the men holding them. Bodies fall down in a wave like motion.

When the last body falls, silence follows. Poaegi pops their head out. Hyuk follows. Jehyun and Hwichan come out of their hiding spots. Jehyun leans over catching his breath, Hwichan plops onto the dirty couch. Jaehan slowly makes it downstairs with Hyuk’s parent’s.

Hyuk runs to them, Hugging them tightly. His mother checks him over for injuries. Poaegi watches.

“Who are you guys?” Hyuk’s father asks.

“We are like your son, but a little different,” Poaegi explains, “we have different elemental abilities.”

“There are more of you?” His mother asks, completely shocked. Poaegi smiles and nods.

“There are a total of 12 of us,” Poaegi explains, “darkness,” Jehyun bows, “light,” Hwichan bows, “life,” Jaehan bows, “mind, but he is elsewhere. Finally, protection,” Poaegi bows.

The KNPA is about to move in, you all need to get out of there now.

“Who said that?” Hyuk’s mother asks.

“Mind,” Poaegi explains, “but he’s right. We need to go, now. You can go under KNPA’s protection, or you can come with us. But I can’t promise Hyuk’s safety if they find out about him.”

“Where will we go?” Hyuk’s father asks.

“I have a safe house for the two of you, but Hyuk will need to come with me to the library,” Poaegi explains. Hyuk’s parents look at him, allowing him to make the final decision.

“You’ll train me to use my abilities?” Hyuk clarifies once more.

“Yes,” Poaegi answers.

You guys have about 30 seconds.

“Okay,” Hyuk tells Poaegi, “we’ll go with you.”

“Perfect,” Poaegi smiles and turns to the boys, “Hwichan. Jehyun.”

The two boys straighten their posture. Hwichan’s crystal on his necklace glows, and Jehyun wraps himself in his cloak, shadows spilling from the bottom of it.

“What’s happening?” Hyuk’s mother asks.

“We have to be silent,” Poaegi whispers, “it’s our cover to leave.” Poaegi holds out their hand for Hyuk. Hyuk hesitates but takes Poaegi’s hand. They nod their head towards the back and they all leave the house.

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