#but his voice and height that the ai chose for him makes everyone think he's older than he actually is

[mettywiththenotes]

Very late night thoughts so sorry if stupid but I think it would be funny if Jax was actually just some kid who probably clicked "over 18" when he ordered the vr set using his parents credit card

[countenanceblog]

Chapter 59

Chapter 59

Gwyneth, Aleister, Francisco and Wayne sat on an old dingy couch in a subterranean lair. It was spacious, but unrefined. Herringbone stood in front of them, leaning against his makeshift kitchenette. His mask was still on.

His voice echoed through the scrambler. "Coffee?," he asked his guests. Everyone uniformly nodded.

"What's up with the mask?," Aleister asked. The strange rebel leaned forwards against the countertop.

"Trust me," began Herringbone, "You don't want to see my face. I don't wear this thing for my benefit, I wear it for yours." Francisco raised an eyebrow at him.

"I don't buy it," he told Herringbone.

Gwyneth cut in. "Who cares about the mask? What are we? Why are we here? Why didn't we know?"

Wayne nodded. "More importantly, how in Hel did we find each other? The odds are fucking spectacular."

"No they're not," said Herringbone. "You're gods. Four-dimensional beings, not constrained by the limitations of this reality. At least, not completely. In all likelihood, you chose your own vessels, and knew before incarnating here what your various roles would be. I've done my research."

Francisco was wide-eyed. "Which God am I?"

Herringbone chuckled electrically. "You're the God of the seas and the ice plane, which they call Neptune still. Your name is Nautilus, according to folklore."

Francisco grinned. "I knew it."

Wayne tilted his head sideways. "Knew what, homie? Knew you were Nautilus or knew you were a god? I already know my name, I had to take that class for school, Ancient Mythology. I'm Grindall, the lightning homie, and Gwyneth is Venuzia, the messenger goddess."

Gwyneth looked at Wayne curiously. "Are you hitting on me? Francisco knows he's too short, but you don't seem to understand that." Wayne's eyes bulged.

"Damn, girl, what the fuck? I've never been called short in my life. I'm six foot two. We're the same height."

"Damn near," said Gwyneth.

Herringbone sighed. "Young people with the banter. You're taking up all my gosh darn time." Herringbone cleared his throat. "We have more pressing issues to discuss. You four young gods are not here by mere chance. You were chosen to be the guardians of this realm, to protect it from the forces that seek to control it."

Aleister furrowed his brow, still trying to process everything. "Guardians? Protect from whom?"

Herringbone's voice turned serious. "Elite Tactical, and more importantly Agarthan Intelligence; which almost entirely consists of vampires. They are a dangerous organization with ambitions far beyond this realm. They seek to manipulate and control the gods to bend reality to their will. That's why you must stop them."

Gwyneth looked conflicted. "But, Herringbone, I don't know if I can take another life. It's one thing to defend ourselves, but to go on the offensive and kill more people… I'm not sure I'm capable of that."

Wayne placed a reassuring hand on Gwyneth's shoulder. "We get it, Gwyn, but sometimes, to protect what's right, we have to make tough choices. These people aren't just after us; they're after everyone in this realm. We can't let them wreak havoc."

Francisco looked disinterested. "I'm actually starting to feel weird about it too. After all, after we displayed our power so thoroughly, don't you think ET and AI might lose interest? What if the experience, what do you call it, dissension in their ranks." Herringbone wagged a finger.

"Dissent. Vampires don't have that problem. They were created by the goddess Hel, to be her servants. She's here, too, in mortal form, just like you. She's the moon goddess, and she appears to have turned completely evil."

Aleister piped up. "Who is she?"

"She's a friend of yours, Aleister," said Herringbone. "Her name is Elizabeth Somerset." The four young gods gasped. "You use her name every time you stub your toe."

Aleister's heart sank as Herringbone revealed the identity of the moon goddess, Hel, or Beth as he had known her. The memories of their recent intimacy flashed in his mind, making him feel contempt and betrayal. He couldn't believe that the woman he had shared a connection with was their main enemy. His mind was in turmoil, torn between the memories of their time together and the reality of the situation. The weight of their recent encounter now felt like a heavy burden on his shoulders.

Trying to conceal his inner turmoil, Aleister cleared his throat and asked, "Herringbone, how did Beth become the queen of the vampires? She did this all in 4D?"

Herringbone adjusted his mask, his eyes fixed on Aleister. "The details are still unclear, but it seems that Elizabeth's body was somehow chosen by Hel herself to take on the role of the vampire queen. She gained control of the Unseelie Court, as it is called, on the basis of their prophecies. You see, the vampires seek to upend those."

Gwyneth put a reassuring hand on Aleister's shoulder. "We'll figure this out, Aleister. Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault. We'll find a way to save her."

Aleister appreciated the support, but he couldn't shake off the guilt and anger within him. He felt like he had been used, and the pain stung deep. "I don't know if I can face her again, Gwyn. How can I look her in the eyes after I slept with her? And of course, she used me like a dildo."

Wayne leaned in, his voice gentle yet resolute. "Aleister, we all have to make difficult choices, especially in times like these. But remember, we'll be with you every step of the way. Even if you have to kill your girlfriend."

Francisco added, "She might still have some part of the old Beth inside her. Or, something decent, anyway."

Herringbone chimed in, "Indeed, there might be a way to break through the darkness that's consumed her. But first, we have to deal with Elite Tactical and Agarthan Intelligence. They are the immediate threat, and we cannot let them succeed in their plans."

Aleister took a deep breath, trying to gather his strength. "You're right. We have to stop them. And if there is a chance to save Beth, I will do whatever it takes."

Gwyneth smiled at Aleister, her faith in him evident. "We'll find a way, Aleister. One way or the other."

[lafourmii20]

My favorite pairing is probably DrPepperony if I had to choose one, and I'm a sucker for 30 (the protective one). While I tend to swerve to "people protecting Stephen", please write it however you'd like - if you're interested in this combination. :)

Thank you for the ask, @aelaer 💕

I love drpepperony and I was very happy to write this OT3 with this prompt. It's a bit longer than I thought, and maybe not exactly what you imagined. I hope you like it!

~~~

drpepperony, pre-relationship (could almost be read as gen), hurt stephen, with a bit of blood, protective pepper, protective tony, not clint friendly (sorry i had to find sort of a bad guy), post Endgame but Tony lives and Steve died

~~~

“If you’re so powerful, why couldn’t you save her?!”

Clint’s shout echoed on the lawn, all the way to the cabin. Tony instantly got to his feet.

“Stay with uncle Happy, Maguna.”

He left his drink on a table, and his daughter under Happy’s careful watch, and hurried outside. When he pushed the front door, he frowned, deeply unhappy with the scene.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen whispered in such a thin voice Tony wasn’t sure anyone heard him –not sure the guy even wanted to be heard.

“You’re sorry? Is that what you just mumbled?” Clint answered, his tone getting angrier and angrier with each word.

“I am truly deeply sorry,” Stephen articulated more clearly this time.

It did not seem to appease Clint. At all.

“Well, great! You’re sorry. But Nat is dead because of you. And your sorry ass apologies won’t do shit to bring her back!”

Clint was furious. He was grieving. But he was taking it out on the wrong guy.

“It’s all your fault!”

Stephen didn’t move, didn’t even blink when Clint lurched forward and punched him square in the face. He fell backwards and blood splattered on the ground.

“It’s all your fucking fault!” Clint bellowed as Sam and Bucky restrained him, tried to stop him from attacking again.

He almost tore free, and Tony took a step forward. He was all for letting his fellow Avengers sort things out between themselves the way they wanted to –and if they had to punch some sense into each other from time to time, well it was their business. But no one was getting beaten up, without even trying to resist, on his lawn.

But before Tony could say anything, Pepper stepped into the scene.

“What is going on here?” she asked in her no-nonsense voice. Se didn’t wait for someone to answer –as if there even was a correct way to answer when she used that voice. “No one is fighting in my home! Today, we celebrate those we brought back, and we grieve those we lost. This is not a time for fighting and I will not tolerate it. Is that clear?”

Clint might try to protest, there was no way he would sway Pepper. He was an Avenger. She was even more dangerous, Tony thought with pride. Looked like he could let his wife handle the dirty business.

He crossed the lawn, got to the poor wizard still slumped on the ground, haggard and defeated. His nose was bleeding profusely, and the corner of his eye was starting to turn purple. Tony grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Come on. Let me take care of you.”

Stephen looked up at him. There was a deep sadness, a resigned look in his eyes that broke Tony’s heart. Then Stephen got up and it was gone. They walked silently through the crowd, crossed the lawn and reached the house. Tony pushed him as carefully as he could in a bathroom.

“Here we go,” he said softly, helping Stephen sit on the edge of the tub. “Fri, where’s the first aid kit?”

“Under the sink, boss,” the AI answered immediately and Tony dived under the sink to retrieve the little box, opening it to get some cotton balls and antiseptic, though he wasn’t sure what to do with those. “May I suggest the ice pack, boss?”

“You’re the best, baby girl.”

“Of course,” she answered, and Tony chuckled.

He went back to Stephen with a slightly wet towel to wipe off the blood while he handed him the cold pack. Stephen’s fingers shook wildly when he took it and pressed it on the side of his head, with a painful wince.

“You don’t have to do all this,” the Wizard of Oz finally said. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah, look in the mirror, doc, and tell that to your face,” Tony scoffed.

He got a brief glimpse of a smile before he moved the towel over nose, lips, chin, and all the mess of blood that covered Stephen’s face.

“Why didn’t you send Clint to the Sinister Dimension or whatever the name of that hellish world is?” Tony asked, trying not to wince with Stephen every time the towel stroked over a sensitive area.

“Dark Dimension,” Stephen corrected.

“Sure.”

A moment of silence passed. Tony took the time to rinse the blood out of the towel before applying it again. It seemed like the bleeding had stopped. That only left the big ugly contusion at the corner of Stephen’s eye. Ouch, that looked painful.

“Fri, can you scan our good doctor? Make sure there are no deeper wounds?”

“I’m fine,” Stephen protested with another wince that said otherwise.

“Fri?”

“The good doctor is right, boss. No deeper injury.”

“Great.”

As Tony looked at the slumped and beaten up form in front of him, it seemed that nothing was great. If there were no physical wounds, it seemed that there was a more profound, more painful, psychological one. That man was wounded, burned out, and morally exhausted. And Tony was suddenly filled with the impulse to help him, to fix this, whatever this was.

He wanted to see the powerful and cocky sorcerer he clashed with, when they first met.

He wanted the weirdly flirty wink after great prowess of magic, and butting heads with someone that didn’t take his nonsense but actually listened to him, and compromised.

“So, why didn’t you stop him?” he asked again after a minute of almost comfortable silence.

He threw the bloody towel in the laundry basket and leaned against the sink, watching Stephen intently.

“Because he’s grieving. And he’s right,” Stephen answered in a too small voice.

Defeated.

Tony was not taking any of it. If Pepper had to protect Stephen from Clint, Tony would have to protect Stephen from himself, apparently. It was far from the weirdest thing he had ever done.

“Bullshit. It’s not your fault.”

Stephen arched an eyebrow behind the cold pack, before he winced and dropped it. Tony picked it up for him and, instead of giving it back to the wizard, he brought it up to Stephen’s face and gently hold it up against his temple. Stephen just sighed, closed his eyes for a second, letting Tony take care of him. The situation was slightly more intimate than Tony anticipated but it warmed his heart to see Stephen accept his help. And yeah, he could see himself get closer to the wizard in the near future.

“It’s not your fault,” he repeated.

“It kinda is. I chose this path, the one where Natasha and Steve had to die. Their deaths are on my hands.”

“That’s just pure bullshit! You didn’t push Nat on Vormir, she jumped. You didn’t put the gauntlet on Steve’s hand, he took it and snapped his own fingers knowing he would not survive it. You did not murder them. They chose to sacrifice themselves to save us all, and believe me, I would have done the same thing, without blaming you. You know what you did?”

“Wallow in self-pity, dishonoring their great sacrifice?” he whispered defeated and seemingly disgusted with himself.

“No.” Damn, that man really needed to be protected from himself. Tony knew a thing or two about blaming himself for everything, but Strange was on another level completely. “You put us on the right path, you risked your sanity to view all those possible futures and other timeline. You are a hero.”

That seemed to finally shut Stephen up. He blinked, looked up at Tony, but this time, there was something different in his eyes. A deep emotion Tony couldn’t really name. It made his heart race.

Stephen’s hand rose, lightly touched Tony’s at the side of his head. It was delicate and far more intimate than he expected. But before Tony could say anything else, the bathroom’s door opened, and Pepper stepped in.

Stephen quickly took his hand away, but Tony kept his position. There was nothing he wanted to hide from his wife. Besides, if something ever happened with the wizard, he was pretty sure Pepper would want to be included. Yep, that would be very nice actually, the three of them in the cabin. Tony could almost picture it.

Wait, he was thinking a bit ahead of himself, wasn’t he? Well, who could blame him, he was a futurist, after all.

“Are you okay, Dr. Strange?” Pepper asked.

“You can call me Stephen. And yes, I’m okay. Tony took care of me.”

Pepper looked at her husband. Tony winked, she smirked in return. His hand was still pressed against Stephen’s head –there was a cold pack between them, but did that really matter?

Pepper went to Stephen’s other side, carefully took his chin in her hand to examine him –and there was no cold pack or any medical supply to excuse the proximity. Stephen tensed for a second, then he relaxed in her grip.

“You did well,” Pepper finally concluded, with a small stroke on Stephen’s cheek. The wizard shuddered. Then she stepped back and the fluttering moment was over. “Tony, you stay with him, I’m gonna send everyone home,” she ordered more than asked.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tony answered immediately.

“And Stephen?”

“Yes?”

“Stay for dinner with us tonight. Please?”

A moment of hesitation, blue-green eyes jumping from Tony to Pepper, a gulp and finally.

“I will.”

Well, well, well, Tony thought. That was a very interesting turn of events. He couldn’t wait to see where all of this would lead them.

~~~

Inspired by this intimacy prompt list

Prompts filled: 3. touching foreheads (ironstrangefrost) 23. wearing someone’s clothing (ironstrange) 29. kissing while mad (ironstrange) 59. height difference (ironstrange)

[hqprotectionsquad]

Dating! For Science (Kuroo x Reader)

this is for my bestie, ate, and just wonderful person to know, io!!! i’ve gotten to know you over the past few months from the network and let me tell you, it’s probably the best decision i’ve made concerning this fandom. i know this isn’t easy, but you take all of your responsibilities with such grace and i’m always inspired by you. i don’t know anyone else who would have their nickname on the server be writeiolite (lara’s #1 fan) and that just makes me so happy. you make me so happy!! because of you, i have true friends from around the world and of different ages and i actually write!! i’m so honored to know you and i just love you so much. thank you for being you, io! i hope you have a wonderful birthday <3

summary: Kuroo’s tweaking his AI program for his senior thesis and he just needs one thing left to make this true to life: a fake girlfriend. After deliberation, you step in so that he can avoid hurting his reputation and another girl’s heart. What could really go wrong? pairing: Kuroo x F!Reader tw: cursing word count: 3010 a/n: lightly inspired by Black Mirror and the episode “White Christmas” even though that episode doesn’t really have anything to do with fake dating? i was more inspired by their ability to go into someone’s mind, thus leading to the AI aspect of this fic!

There's something about Kuroo that has always drawn you to him. Maybe it was his eyes, his height or hair. You still don’t quite know. But ever since your second year of college, your eyes never left that rooster-headed man. Lucky you; he chose the seat next to yours over the other ones in the lecture hall because he claims you had the best spot, so "sitting next to you is the next best choice."

It's been two years since then, and he won't leave you alone. He insists this is for the best because his best friend doesn't attend college near you two and you're the closest friend he has. Over everyone, Kuroo Tetsurou chose you and will continue to choose you, and you don't really understand why.

The moonbeams shoot into the room through the window. Lately, you've been needing to stay over at his apartment, just to make sure he's still alive. He's been begging the world for his artificial intelligence program to work. He wants something fresh and unpredictable to present for his senior thesis, something that his classmates would envy at and the committee would be in awe of. He'll defend his program swinging, you know that for sure. After moments of just sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him hunch over his desktop computer, the chair swishes and he turns to look at you. "(Y/N), can you proofread this for me?"

“What is it?” You stand to get a closer look and you guide the chair back to the correct rotation. Your arm hangs around his shoulders as you slot your eyes to see better. “Is this a—”

“It’s a girlfriend application.”

“Tetsu, what the hell?”

“What?” His palms face towards the ceiling as his forehead creases. “I need to make my AI as accurate as possible. How else am I going to make it realistic?”

Now, you tilt your head. “You...you’ve never had a girlfriend?”

Kuroo’s lips drag into a frown and he shuts his eyes for a few seconds as if he’s shutting off the rest of the world. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

“But Tetsu, you’re so charismatic. I thought you must have had a few girlfriends by now.” You think back to all of the times you’ve attended parties with him. He’s essentially been the life of the party and he’s always had people surrounding him while playing beer pong or just funneling drinks down his throat. How could have not had a girlfriend at this age considering his background?

“You don’t have to shove it in my face.” Kuroo drags his fingers down his eyes, nose, and lips. 

“You’ve had hookups, I’m sure?”

“Yeah, but a girl sneaking out of my bed at seven in the morning isn’t the same as having a full-on relationship.” Under his breath, he says, “I wish it was because then I’d be having hookups left and right.”

“You’re so weird.” You laugh at his comment and soon enough, he’s laughing along with you. You settle back on the edge of the bed and he follows suit.

His body weight sinks into the mattress, bringing part of you down with him. "It's one of the last parts of the project, and you know I've been working on it for a while now. I just want my program to be as real as it can get. I know it'll be flawed, but I've got to try to make it perfect as I can, you know?"

"Yeah." You mutter, trying to drown out your blaring thoughts. What you're thinking right now...it's absurd and you shouldn't have it on your mind. But if it all worked out, then maybe you'd— "Kuroo, what if I was your fake girlfriend? For maybe a month, give or take. This way, you don't scare people off and you're with someone you already know."

You can tell he's considering it, based on the way his eyes dart in many ways. "But shouldn't the point of dating be that you get to know someone new?" Kuroo's eyebrow slides up and it's hard to believe that he's never had a proper relationship before. "I know you fairly enough."

"You know me as a friend. It's different when you approach someone as a girlfriend and it's different when it's a hookup," you justify. "I don't even know your favorite color, and I'm pretty sure you don't know mine."

"Isn't it purple?"

You'll be honest, you've never really considered yourself as a "favorites" person who naturally sought out what they loved the most. You found better use of your time instead of boring through magazine quizzes to show what you liked the best. But after thinking, you shake your head. "It's red."

“Why red?” He asks and it brings you back to all of the photos you’ve seen of Kuroo in his old high school volleyball uniform. He’s shown you many and when you first saw them, you were surprised he didn’t comment on how you were biting your lip or looking back and forth to see how he’s changed. And he really hasn’t done much of changing except for growing an inch taller and his hair being somewhat neater, but he looked so confident when he was on the court. The red fabric of his uniform hugged his figure in all the right places. The photo where he’s speaking to all of his teammates—would it be wrong to say you swooned? 

It’s his color. Even now, if he searches through his drawers and checks his hangers, his current wardrobe will have splatters of red all over. Maybe red wasn’t really anything to you until you met him. Because it is his, it is now yours.

“Because it’s a passionate color. It’s love, anger, pain; it’s everything.” For a moment, you forget why you’re here and you have this stupid grin on your face, and then you remember and reality pulls you back. “I’ll be your fake girlfriend.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t want this to be the reason why we end up falling apart, because you’re a really great friend to me and I love our friendship—” He’s speaking at a pace of a million miles a minute and you’re lucky you can even hear the words he’s saying.

You nod your head once. “I’m sure.”

While you don’t start off anything that day because Kuroo said he wanted to plan everything out before you begin, you also take that day to just be friends and bask in the current relationship you have with one another. Everything’s going to change from this point on, and you know it and he knows it.

You’ve got to admit it; the next time you meet, you’re scared of what’s to come. How do you greet him? How will he take all of his emotions and collate it into data for his prototype? Don’t you feel like you’re being used?

But you volunteered for this. You told him he should date — fake date — someone he already knows. You just wanted that person to be you. Seeing him with someone else would just be twisting a knife into your side. At least you get to control your feelings in this situation.

“(Y/N), it’s good to see you,” Kuroo greets you as you find him in the restaurant you were meeting in. He stands to hug you and you’ll admit, he’s actually trying to form a meaningful relationship, of some sort at least.

“Thanks for buying me dinner, boyfriend,” you wink as you say the last word. He even pushes in your chair when you go to sit. Kuroo settles across from you. He mentions something about already ordering for the two of you but you can’t really focus because he’s wearing an outfit you’ve never seen before. Yeah, those are jeans and a t-shirt, but his winter coat hugs his sides in a way you’d never expect. Your hope is that he actually dressed up for you.

After a waiter comes by your table to place your plates of noodles, Kuroo unloads his information for the AI prototype and he’s not afraid to release it all at once.

“So I have these guidelines I typed up for you,” he hands over this folder. It’s incredibly neat, as you expected of him, but there has to be over ten pages in here. Guessing by the first page, none of the papers will have blank space. “It’s just outlining my hypothesis, my expectations, all of that. You might not have to read it all because it's mostly for my records, but I highlighted the things that I think would be most helpful."

You wipe your hands with the napkin from the table and sift through the materials. "Tetsu, you highlighted mostly the whole thing," you mutter. Taking a glance at the expectations page, you raise your eyebrows. "You said that you expect to not fall in love with me?"

Kuroo bites his lip. "It's more like if I write that down, then it has a better chance of coming true. You'll only need to date me for as long as I need to collect experiences and data. I don't want to let you go as a friend."

You don't bother to respond because you've moved on to the rest of the page. "Wait, you want us to consummate our relationship?" You say this almost too loudly, and Kuroo taps your hand repeatedly to tell you to lower your voice. You press your palm to your lips and after seeing nobody is looking in your direction, your hand returns to the table. “Are you being serious here, Kuroo?”

Kuroo sighs. "I was just thinking that sex would also help in gaining experience."

“You’ve had hookups before.”

“Well, isn’t sex different if you have it with someone you’re dating?” Kuroo can’t quite meet your eyes when he says this.

“So what, we’re essentially friends with benefits now?” You bite back your silly smile and wait for his reaction.

His mouth opens and closes. Finally, he says, “I don’t want to say yes, but basically.” After a beat, his words rush out, “You’re still my girlfriend. That’s established. Girlfriend with many rules and such. Fake girlfriend.” He emphasizes on the word fake, and suddenly, it becomes your least-favorite f-word.

Still, you smile. “Fake girlfriend it is.”

You’re thrown into everything pretty quickly. He introduces hand-holding, and soon after, kisses. He’ll come pick you up after your classes for dates. “For science,” he says all the time. You really can’t believe he’s not your real boyfriend because he’s such a great kisser and after this all ends, his lips will no longer belong to you. Your heart says you should, but knowing he literally writes down his observations after you do anything romance related, your brain says absolutely not.

Now, it’s been about three months since you’ve began “dating” Kuroo Tetsurou. He blames the duration of time on the project, and now, this contracted relationship has an "indefinite" completion, says Kuroo. Through all of the dates, cuddling, and etcetra, he’s probably the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. That’s not saying too much, but whoever you date next will not be able to match up with Kuroo. There are definitely times when you forget that this is all for his artificial intelligence thesis because it all feels so natural, especially when you hold his hand while walking down the street, and when you catch him smiling down at you just for a few seconds. He’s not perfect and you hate it when he talks with food in his mouth, but everything else is pretty good.

Or at least you thought.

“(Y/N),” he calls out when you’re at his apartment on a Saturday afternoon. Nowadays, you’re at Kuroo’s place. You have study sessions with him, eat dinners, and close off nights with his arm around you when you watch a movie. He’s seen almost all the parts of you and you don’t even mind. He molds a spot for himself in your heart and he doesn’t even know it. All he knows is that you’re the fake girlfriend for his project, and maybe a trial girlfriend before he truly finds the one he loves.

You’re digging into the refrigerator, scanning the shelves and drawers to find a perfect movie snack. Would chocolates and gummy worms go well together? Or maybe fruit for a change...

“(Y/N), come here,” Kuroo reiterates as he’s relaxing on the couch in the other part of the apartment. After you find your snacks — you give into the dark chocolate to pair with the salty popcorn — you make it over to the living room, settling the candy on the coffee table.

“What’s up, babe?” Pet names flow out easy like the water in a river and you don’t know when it started, but it turns out Kuroo has taken a particular liking to this one. You settle in close, tucking yourself into his side with his arm still resting on the top of the couch.

“I was thinking about the AI thing,” Right, because this isn’t supposed to be real. “I think sex is the next thing we have to accomplish and I think that’s essentially all I need for the project.”

You have to blink a few times, just to make sure those were the words that came out of his mouth. You shift your body to face him and you’re no longer pushed to his side. “That’s it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Kuroo shrugs with his lips pressed together. There’s a chill that rushes through your body. You should have stuck to the contract because you know Kuroo did. You know that he did not stray from it for a second, despite all of the hugs and kisses you’ve shared. You knew this was coming, yet you still don't want to see it in front of your face. The two of you live in this cloud of smoke that this project has forged, and Kuroo will be fanning it away soon.

You don't know what to say anymore. On one hand, it would be simple to ignore your sense of direction and throw away every platonic feeling you have for Kuroo, just to try and work out a relationship without strings. On the other hand, your actions directly affect Kuroo and you'd feel horrible if you messed up his project, whether if it was because you abandoned ship or acted on your feelings and your relationship turned sour.

Any way you think of it, nothing comes out right.

“(Y/N), come on, talk to me.” He pats the hand that rests in your lap, but still, your head won’t get out of this fog. Is this what it’s been this whole time? You should have paid more attention to yourself, to see the exact point where you let yourself go and live in this cloud of smoke.

“I don’t know what to say.” You don’t look at him. “Is it wrong to say that I don’t want to do it? That I feel used?”

“You said this was like friends with benefits when we first began. You saw and read everything in the folder I gave you. This isn’t supposed to be real, we were supposed to be together for this project.” Kuroo sighs. “For God’s sake, (Y/N). You offered. You literally offered, and you did not have to do this.”

If you felt like crying before, well, now you’re really crying. You’re trying to have some sort of semblance of a composure, but with you wiping your eyes with the back of your hands every few seconds, it’s hard to know what exactly you’re feeling.

“(Y/N)...” Kuroo longs to reach for you, but you shift farther from him on the couch, making creases in it. You’re sure he feels like the bad guy now, but this is nothing but your fault, and you’d like to own up to it, if only you’d stop fucking crying. “(Y/N), come here.”

When you finally look up at Kuroo through your oceans of tears, you can’t tell if it’s your currently impaired eyesight or if he’s also shedding a few tears.

“Look, I like you a lot, and I like you romantically. I won’t lie about that. I have for a long time, and when you said you’d be my fake girlfriend, I was scared. I’m not the best at knowing lots of things that aren’t academic, but I know for sure that these things never turn out right.” Kuroo takes your hands when you inch toward him. He rubs the back of your hands, the pads of his fingers sopping up your fallen teardrops. The man here is unfolding the hardened layers he used to have, revealing his softer insides. “Fuck, maybe I thought,” Kuroo stops to stand and pace back and forth in the room you’re in. “Maybe I thought if I threw myself into my work and take everything logistically and treat it like a project with no feelings, then it could all be justified in my head.”

You don’t know what else to think, so you just do.

You mute his next words with your lips and when you release, you’re sure you look like a mess with the tear stains along your face, but he tells you you’re beautiful anyway.

“Be my girlfriend. My real girlfriend. Nothing for the project, though I’m pretty sure I had enough data from the point of two weeks in.” There’s Kuroo’s cheeky self, the one you’ve known and been longing for.

“You’re so stupid.” You roll your eyes. “God, my boyfriend is so stupid.”

He lifts you into a bridal carry, the crook of his elbow caressing the back of your knees. “Do I still look stupid?” But he doesn’t let you answer his question. His lips are on yours. Your hands press against his cheeks and his hair brushes against your face.

“I like you a lot, stupid.”

“And I like you a lot too.”

general haikyuu tag list: @dorkyama @kingkags @clowninfortodoroki​ @ykchaos​ @kingkagss​ @alienvarmint​

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[starker-eternity]

Going Once, Never Twice

So I’m sitting down, watching a favorite musical of mine and I’m hit with a Starker drabble idea... wow, I need help. In other words, you know you’re in trouble when everything starts prompting fics/drabbles... Trying to write a soft, fluffy piece and my mind runs away screaming...

Pairings: Starker with background Stucky, Phlint, Thorki, Brutasha

Warnings: AU, no powers, kidnapping, inference to non-con/rape, human trafficking, characters aged up, dark avengers

****

NEW YORK CITY

In the hallway of the building, the squeaky wheels of a cart could be heard as it was pushed by the closed doors. No one paid it any mind if they heard it, background noise as it was. As it neared its destination, music could be heard coming from behind the door that it stopped at. The European folk music that was playing completely covered the slight noise of a key being slid into the well-oiled lock and the door opening.

A young, auburn-haired woman was sitting on a couch in the living room, back to the opened door. She was humming along to the music playing as she was browsing on a Stark tablet.

All of a sudden, hands came into her vision before her face was covered with a sweet smelling white cloth. The woman struggled for a brief minute before her body went limp. A pair of strong, leather covered arms lifted the sleeping woman and deposited her body into the waiting cart. The music was turned off and the apartment was vacated, squeaking wheels echoing in the hallway.

****

STILL NEW YORK CITY

Ned laughed at MJ’s latest quip about Flash’s latest embarrassing debacle at Columbia University, the prestigious university that all three attended. Flash Thompson was one of their high school tormentors that unfortunately followed them to the same place for higher education. The guy was a Class A Douchebag, but he was sadly also intelligent. Luckily for them, he was too busy being a “small fish in the suddenly bigger pond” to give them much trouble.

As they passed a smaller newsstand, one of the dying breeds that sold physical papers, both young adults waved to Mr. Lee, the owner. Neither paid the loud headlines “HOW MANY MORE WILL GO MISSING?” from the local newspapers any attention.

Ned opened the door to their apartment building, The Priscilla, and was about to hold it open for M.J. when her raised eyebrow made him think better of it. Knowing her disdain for “gallant gestures”, even if they were more suited to be labeled “general politeness”, Ned rushed through the door and M.J. followed. Both automatically headed to the front desk to see if they had any mail waiting on them.

As they neared it, both noticed a young man standing at the desk, two medium sized suitcases and a back pack lying on the floor next to him. Ned took note that the man was a respectable height, with a head full of chestnut curls. His body seemed to be on the leaner side, but hard to tell as it was covered up by a shapeless tan sweater and baggy jeans. MJ was more interested in his non-descript luggage, trying to see if she could deduce where he was from without asking.

As both young adults stopped near him, the young male turned and gave them a shy smile. “ Hello,” he greeted, his voice light and cheery.

“Hi!”

“What’s up loser?”

The young man looked surprised by MJ’s caustic greeting, so Ned quickly rushed to assure him. “Don’t mind MJ, that’s how she greets everyone she doesn’t find currently offensive. It means she might like you if you don’t do anything incredibly stupid.”

The other man’s smile grew strained as he replied, “That’s both encouraging and terrifying really.”

MJ stared at him for half a minute before she gave a smirk and declared, “Cool. I’ve decided you can hang out with us. You know, if you want. I’m MJ.” She shook his hand briefly before turning her gaze on Ned.

“Oh! I’m Ned. MJ and I live on the 14th floor, apartments 1402 and 1404.”

Ned shook his hand as the brunette started to introduce himself. “Pleased to meet you, I’m Peter -“

“Here’s your ID back, Mr. Parker. Everything seems to be in order.”

Ms. Hill, the front desk manager, interrupted the introductions, coming back to the counter from the back room. In her hand was the aforementioned ID, which she handed back to Peter. As Peter busied himself with putting his card back into his wallet, Ms. Hill turned to Ned and MJ.

“Afternoon Mr. Leeds, Ms. Jones.”

“Afternoon,” they both chorused.

“I see you’ve already met Mr. Parker.” As they both nodded, she continued to state, “Excellent. He’s moving in today. Short notice, but lucky for him we had a vacancy. If he has any questions and can’t reach someone at the desk, he can ask either of you. Makes my job easier. He’s actually your neighbor as he’s leasing apartment 1403.”

Both Ned and MJ looked at each other in surprise. Ned spoke his thoughts first, “1403? Wasn’t that leased to Wanda Maximoff? She just moved in!”

Ms. Hill looked at Ned, a slightly annoyed look on her face. “Wanda Maximoff just moved out,” she replied. “Said something about missing Europe too much and not being able to handle Americans very well.”

“Wow,” MJ murmured. “She didn’t even give it a chance.”

Ned and MJ shrugged at each other while Peter stood by, his fidgeting fingers a clear indication that he was slightly uncomfortable. MJ looked back at Ms. Hill and asked, “Mail come yet?”

“Mail was delivered, always something for you two,” she said, even as she was leaving the counter to retrieve it.

Ned looked at Peter and explained, “Mail is delivered to the front desk everyday and the building staff sorts it for everyone. Since the desk is usually manned 24/7, you just ask for it.”

Ms. Hill came back and handed a few envelopes to MJ and several to Ned. “Looks like your mother wrote you, Ms. Jones and there seem to be several letters from Ms. Brant, Mr. Leeds.”

Ned blushed, but said, “Yeah, Betty’s on her 6 month Humanities Internship and has no access to email or WI-Fi. Snail mail is her only option. Luckily her handwriting is much better than mine.”

“You still have to send her replies, dork,” retorted MJ.

“Oh, that’s right,” Ned replied, his expression falling for a moment.

Ms. Hill shook her head slightly before looking at Peter. “Will you be receiving regular mail from family members or significant others, Mr. Parker?”

Peter smiled sadly at the older woman before shaking his head. “I don’t have anyone to write to me,” he explained. “My parents died when I was 6 and my aunt and uncle died last year. I don’t have any known family left.”

Ms. Hill’s gaze suddenly grew sharper at Peter’s words. Her body straighted and she suddenly seemed much more interested in the conversation. Peter noticed this immediately, but dismissed it as neither Ned nor MJ seemed to noticed. Ms. Hill looked him straight in the eye as a slightly creepy attempt at a sympathetic smile crossed her lips. “So sad to be all alone in the world,” she murmured.

Peter nodded and dropped his gaze from hers. He was uncomfortable, but didn’t want to insult the staff of his new landlord on the first day.

“Well, make sure to come to our social Friday night, Mr. Parker. I’m sure you’ll make dozens of new friends,” assured Ms. Hill.

“Yeah, and we’ll help introduce you to everyone on the 14th floor,” cheered Ned. The trio moved away from the desk, Peter moving to grab his suitcases and backpack. He followed the other two to the bank of elevators, a necessity in a high rise building.

“So the 14th floor? How many residents are there on the one floor?” Peter asked Ned as the trio waited for a lift to arrive.

“Actually it’s the 13th floor, but the complex was built by superstitious engineers. They didn’t want to label the floor with the unlucky number 13, so they skipped it and labeled it 14 instead.”

As the arriving elevator doors slid open, allowing the three to enter and began to close, MJ could be heard saying, “And according to urban myth, the hotel is actually built on an ancient burial ground. Some say they can...”

Maria Hill waited until the trio was definitely gone before she called out, “Jasper? Come man the desk. I’ve got to talk with Fury.”

****

MALIBU

Genius. Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist.

All tags that accurately described the 35 year old man that sat in the conference room, signing some digital paperwork. Impeccably groomed and well-dressed, Tony Stark was a man that exuded wealth and privilege. His genius was not a trait detectable with the naked eye, but anyone who owned a smart phone or tablet clearly held the results of just two pieces of his work. Of course he was a philanthropist, he had to constantly work on his public image. Not only for the good of his company, Stark Industries, but also so that nosy paparazzi didn’t focus on other things that went on in his life.

Playboy. Naturally his other titles encouraged every gold digger and fame seeking maniac to accost him. Men and women, he loved them all. But after almost two decades of flitting amongst the debutantes and trust fund babies, Tony was tired. He wanted to settle on a more permanent arrangement. Something similar to what his friends had. Alas, he hadn’t found “The One” yet.

His friends.

Tony looked around at the men and woman he chose to surround himself with. All with talents and gifts of their own, they had all combined their resources together to form Avengers Incorporated. AI was a company that just about had their fingers in every pot. Military weapons, espionage, technology, bio-engineering, pharmaceuticals... the list went on. Stark Industries was his legacy left to him by his father, but Avengers Incorpoated was his baby. And it was because of some of the work done by AI that the government and law enforcement turned a blind eye to darker activities that might cross their paperwork and desks concerning the founding members.

Tony cracked his neck before setting his tablet down and said, “Well, congrats to us, Gentlemen and Lady. We’ve just closed the deal that will net us an easy $500 million in profit.”

Smiles were shot his way as the others wrapped up their paperwork. “I think we deserve some R&R,” he declared. “Let’s escape to The Compound for a few weeks. Let Pepper and her team earn their ridiculous salaries and hold the fort down. Bring all of your partners.”

Natasha, a fiery red-head, gave Tony a sharp grin. “It’ll do Bruce some good to get out of his labs for a bit. He won’t admit it, but he’s getting stressed.”

Phil, head of AI’s legal legions smiled softly. “Clint’s been such a good boy lately, he deserves such a treat.”

Tony swiveled his head towards the other two men in the room. “How about it, Point Break? Buckaroo? Steve and Loki are the newest pets to the group. They good for an escape?”

Thor frowned, but he agreed, “Loki needs some discipline work. It would be good to get him isolated where I can devote my full attention to his conditioning.”

James, or Bucky to his friends, nodded his head. “Steve’s not completely there yet. It would do him good to interact with Bruce and Clint. See that it’s okay to surrender. Little punk keeps trying to test the boundaries,” he added, his tone fond despite his criticism.

Natasha turned to Tony, “What about you?”

Tony grinned at her, “ I’m sure I can find -”

Tony was interrupted by a chime coming from his phone. It was a chime that was echoed simultaneously by every cell phone in the conference room. The tone was unique, easily recognizable by everyone present. With raised eyebrows all around, each adult took out their phone and opened the text they all received.

AUCTION LOT 23-WM-PBP. 5 Min. Click link if interested.

Tony leaned back in his chair, even as he clicked on the provided link. He was prepared to be disappointed, as the last several dozen offerings had left him uninterested. As the link was loading, he noticed the others putting away their phones. Made sense, after all they had already won their auctions and had their prizes. No need to look anymore for them.

As the link opened on his phone, Tony took one look at the provided pictures and nearly fell out of his chair.

Perfection.

Clearly pictures lifted from an ID card and from a surveillance camera, the details were still captivating enough to knock the breath from him. Whisky-colored doe eyes stared up at him, almost teasing beneath a delightful mop of chestnut curls. Pale skin, complimented by smooth lips in an adorable grin, teased with a light brushing of freckles across an impish nose. A full body shot hinted at a lithe body, but gave no more tantalizing details.

Tony felt interest immediately spike in his lower regions, just from looking at those lips. He could already imagine those eyes filled with shining tears as those lips were wrapped around his cock. A red collar would look stunning around that pale neck. He eagerly absorbed the provided basic details.

AUCTION LOT 23-WM-PBP

23 year old Caucasian male.

Name: Peter Benjamin Parker

Status: Orphan

Current Location: New York City, USA

Height: 5’10”

Weight: approx 167lbs

Hair: brown

Eyes: hazel

Availability: immediately

Starting Bid: $100,000USD

Tony clicked on the provided link, which he knew from experience would redirect him to a secure server that housed the auction house, Black Noire. He was going to win this auction, no matter the price. And he was absolutely sure it was going to skyrocket.

As he waited the few precious minutes before the bidding frenzy went live, he glanced up at his friends. By now, they all had noticed he hadn’t put his phone away in disinterest, so their curiosity was piqued. He smirked, waggling his eyebrows, watching as delighted smiles crossed his friends’ faces.

Another soft chime echoed from his phone, indicating bidding was now open. As he confirmed his first of what he suspected would be many bids, Tony couldn’t help the already possessive chant going through his mind.

MINE.

[scratchface]

Alt + Delete, 2

Yeah, somebody a long time ago asked for Spectre trolling Yusaku for needing to be rescued from the Ignis. 

Why did this not get posted until now?

Thank you, Takeru, Yusaku thought to himself as Revolver went down with a startled grunt and a heavy thud. He pinned him by the shoulder and the arm with all his weight and a knee in his back. Revolver bucked in his grip, seething.

“Playmaker!”

Yusaku struggled to keep him down, mind racing. What was he supposed to do now? Ai had probably gotten away, but so long as Yusaku was stuck here grappling he couldn’t exactly make his own escape.

And then things got worse, because Spectre chose that exact moment to arrive, striding through the door with a serious expression.

“Revolver-sama, we can’t find—what the hell are you doing to Revolver-sama?”

“Uh,” Yusaku said, looking between Spectre and Revolver’s furious expression, which was mostly pressed into the floor. In his brief moment of distraction, he lost his grip and the world tilted as he was seized and brought down, hitting the floor hard and jostling his shoulder. Biting down on his lip in pain, he held back a yelp as a hand buried into his hair and smacked his cheek into the tiles. Another clamped around his wrist and pinned it against his back.

Having successfully reversed their position, Revolver heaved an aggravated sigh and Spectre wandered over, obviously wary.

"Your report, Spectre." Revolver prompted as Yusaku shifted uncomfortably under him, trying to get a view of what was going on. He mostly just saw the obnoxious white of Spectre's slacks.

Instead of answering, Spectre made a curious sound. “What’s Playmaker doing here?”

Yusaku jerked his arm, trying to work it free, but only succeeded in pulling something. He puffed out an aggravated breath into the tile and wondered if Ai had the sense to send someone to rescue him.

Revolver's voice was trapped somewhere between deeply annoyed and tiredly amused. “Playmaker was being held captive by the Ignis when I arrived.”

“Really?” Spectre hummed, crouching down next to Yusaku so their eyes could meet. Yusaku gave him his best glare, but Spectre just leered back. “Think someone like you can play the damsel in distress, huh?”

“Get off of me.” Yusaku grumbled against the floor.

“Now, now, is that any way to thank your knight in shining armor?” Spectre mocked, his stupid eyes bright with delight. “It’s more traditional for the princess to reward her hero with a kiss, you know.”

Yusaku didn’t know what sort of face he was making, nor what face Revolver was making either, but it was clear by Spectre’s expression that both were rather telling. Spectre gave Revolver a flat, disbelieving look. “…Is that how he got that close to you?”

“Uh,” Revovler said as his grip slackened just a little, and Yusaku managed to catch a glimpse up of him. The color his face turned was telling its own story.

Amusement and offense battled for dominance over Spectre's face, eventually settling into a twisted smirk. He looked at Yusaku with laughing eyes. “You little minx.”

Yusaku resisted his urge to stick his tongue out at the creep. That would be childish, and he would probably end up tasting the floor.

Spectre rose back up to his full height and crossed his arms behind his back. “Well, while this hussy was harassing you, the Ignis got away.” Yusaku honestly didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d never been called that before, especially not in such a pretentious and nasally voice, and it was actually kind of funny.

Revolver's grip tightened, his weight shifting on top of Yusaku. It seemed like he was annoyed, but not entirely at Yusaku. Maybe he was just getting stiff— Yusaku's and lower back certainly were. An ache was developing at the base of his spine and in his wrist.

"At least we saved the princess." Spectre hummed, voice layered with all sorts of mockery. "So today hasn't been a complete bust." Revolver finally relented and shifted away, letting Yusaku push himself up. Which hurt something awful, but Spectre was still looking at him so Yusaku refused to show it. "How'd you get caught anyway?"

Yusaku rubbed his wrist and rolled his shoulder. Everything seemed to be in the right places, but that was probably just the virtue of virtual bodies. "Peace talks broke down."

Spectre rose an eyebrow, obviously disbelieving. "...Since when do you negotiate?"  

Since I, of all people, had to start being the voice of reason, Yusaku did not say, because he felt like that would be setting himself up for another 'princess' comment. If he, out of everyone in VRAINS, was preaching peace and begging for everyone to get along, reality had truly gone sideways.

One would think that after more than a year of pleading with him to stop rocking the boat everyone would be a little more appreciative of his dedication to not sinking the goddamn ship.

"Since he started seducing people, apparently." Revolver grumbled, a bitter twist to his lips. His cheeks were still pink.

“Whatever.” Yusaku rolled his eyes and took an aggravated breath. Dealing with both Revolver and Spectre at the same time wasn’t exactly his idea of fun. “Don’t you guys have AIs to exterminate?” Not that they would succeed, at least until Yusaku got Jin back home.

“Somebody sounds cranky.” Spectre chuckled, his voice oddly triumphant. “Is is because we were right and you were wrong? All of this could have been avoided if you just handed over the Dark Ignis in the first place.”

Asshole. As if it was Yusaku’s fault the Knights of Hanoi decided to antagonize the absurdly advanced AIs they made.

“And who exactly created the Ignis in the first place?” Yusaku shot right back. “I don’t exactly remember volunteering—”

“Enough!” Revolver snapped, and both their mouths clicked shut. Yusaku almost wanted to get the last word in, just so no one could mistake his silence for obedience. But Revolver’s arms were crossed, a look that took no more bullshit evident on his face. “Spectre, gather the others. We must pursue the Ignis.”

Spectre bowed, deference written all over his face. “Of course.” But their eyes remained locked as Spectre strode past him, back towards the door. Unsurprisingly, the moment Revolver’s back was towards him, Spectre spun around and gave Yusaku a crude gesture.

Always a step ahead, Yusaku’s own middle finger was already up.

It was probably about time he took his leave as well. Bohman was still out there, and Yusaku had the feeling the strange man was waiting for a rematch. But as he moved to leave, Revolver grabbed his arm and spun him back around.

“Where are you going?” Crystal eyes stared into his own, blazing. “Did you forget?” A devious smile was creeping over Revolver’s lips, his voice falling lower and lower. “You still owe me a kiss,” he said nice and slow, as chills shivered down Yusaku’s spine when he paused so deliberately, as if tasting his next words on his tongue, “…princess.”

[kessielrg]

[Mighty No 9] Pacemaker

Summary: In which Beck and Lei have a day out together, and ask some rather uncomfortable questions.

Rating: K

Word Count: 2,131

I know I've only met you once or twice, But maybe you can help me out. 'Cause I don't really want some good advice, Just some help to shed my doubts.

-Jaws, Magnet (Even Johansen)

. . .

Beck was not ready for this. He thought he was, and he even looked ready for it, but once he stepped up to the Ladan-Blaise front door, he knew that he was so, so not ready for this. With his hand shaking, Beck reached for the doorbell and gave it a ring. The wait for someone to answer the door seemed like years, although it only took a good three minutes. At first, the person who answered the door only opened it at the tiniest bit.

“Who is it?” the voice asked. Beck immediately recognized it as the voice of Leilani Blaise, 19 year old robotic genius and child convict, now currently under the supervision of SANDA Technologies and Doctor Soichiro Sanda himself.

“I-it's me, Beck.” the little robot said. “I'm here to pick up Leilani Blaise.”

Weighing her options a bit, Leilani stepped out into full view, allowing Beck to see what she was wearing in full; she had on a light blue tunic dress paired with dark washed capri pants. Her hair had been pulled back into a loose ponytail, and wore no makeup- the lack of said makeup made her eyes look sunken in and her eyes almost lifeless.

“You look awful.” Beck told her without even considering his words.

“Been fighting a cold.” Leilani mused. “I've been enjoying a cocktail of NyQuil and sleeping pills for the past two weeks.”

“O-oh...” Beck stammered. “That... doesn't seem very… healthy.”

Leilani smirked. “It's not.” she even retorted. With a small chuckle, she started to head back inside the house. “Let me get my shoes. I'm pretty much ready when you are.”

“What about Ray?” Beck questioned, trying to still get a peak at the human as she decided on her footwear by the door.

“Sleeping.” Leilani insisted as she chose a pair of Grecian-style sandals. “Still trying to work on a new energy source that doesn't reject every xel replacement I give her. It's an uphill battle for both of us.”

Beck gave a small nod despite her not being able to see it. Once her shoes were properly on her feet, Leilani came out side- making sure that she locked the door behind her. Awkwardly, Beck gestured for her to go first for the limo waiting for them and the human didn't act twice on the idea.

“Where is Sanda taking me today?” Leilani mused as they left the Ladan-Blaise drivelane.

“No where.” Beck told her, trying to sound bold but only sounding nervous. “I thought it would a be a good idea if we just… spent the day together.  I-is that okay?”

Leilani looked at him. “Where are we going?” she then asked- her tone flat and incredibly unamused. Her expression was the most horrifying part; her eyes should have shot daggers right into Beck's artificial heart and killed him right there.

“A-a cafe.” he quickly told her. “It's a little far out from here, b-but I think you'd like it.”

To the bot's relief, Leilani looked away from him to look out the window. She said nothing further to him, and at the moment, Beck believed it was a sign of approval. But it also welcomed a bitter silence between the two of them that the bot couldn't handle. He couldn't help but look over at her before turning away again, because staring was rude, and he really didn't want to step on her toes today. And there was still so many questions that were stuck in his mind that he needed to ask. And what better time to start with them than now? R-right…?

“Do you…” Beck started, faltered, but tried to press on anyway, “Do you think that if we… if we had met before… Before...”

“Before Seismic impaled my mother?” Leilani cut in, saying exactly what Beck didn't want to.

Beck looked down at his toes before agreeing. “Y-yeah. Do you think we would have been… friends?”

Leilani was silent for a long time- making Beck fear that she had shut him out. She hadn't, she was just considering her answer. “I… I don't know.” she finally admitted. “I have no idea Beck.”

The silence returned after that. It felt worse than the first time.

“A part of me wants to say,” Leilani continued, as if she were speaking a thought now, “That as long as Trinity happened, then no. We wouldn't. It just… It just wouldn't have been possible.”

Beck gave a small nod. “I understand.” he agreed. This time, Beck turned to look at Leilani and didn't look away. He was lost in the thought of when he first saw her six years ago; Trinity had already rampaged through the country, so he hadn't even gotten the chance to meet Leilani when she was truly happy. The human girl had been smaller then, while he was still the same. Same height, same voice, same ability to assimilate fellow robots...

“I wish I had the ability to grow up.” Beck spoke in thought, not meaning to have said it out loud, “Or at least be a bit taller.”

That was when Leilani snapped her head around to look at Beck as if he were going insane.

“What did you just say?” she demanded, despite hearing him well enough. Beck didn't answer- her sudden reaction was surprised him, and he would be lying if he said that Leilani didn't look scary when she was scared.

To break the tension, the driver of the limo spoke to them saying, “We have arrived at our destination.”

Neither Beck or Leilani wanted to break the looks they were giving each other, but it was the robot who turned to the driver to say, “Th-thank you.” When Beck turned back, Leilani had already left the limousine. Nervous, Beck did the same and was easily relieved when he saw that the human was waiting for him at the cafe's entrance.

“Are you ready?” Beck asked Leilani when he was close enough to her.

“I assume you're buying?” the human then asked, looking down at him. “Or say you're buying but it's really coming from your creator's bank account?”

Beck threw a hand behind his head as he nervously chuckled. Knowing the truth, Leilani raised an eyebrow at Beck for a moment before giving an amused smirk.

. . .

At this hour, the cafe was all but empty; which was exactly what Beck had hoped for. He was able to find him and Leilani a spot that was still pretty out of the way- just in case someone really loud decided to come in.

“I'll get our food.” Beck offered once he made sure Leilani was comfortable. “What do you want?”

“Hot chocolate- extra cream with half a scoop of mini marshmallows.”

“Anything to eat?”

“Do they have any powdered coffee cakes here?”

Beck nodded.

“Then maybe two of those- it depends on how wide they made them.”

“Got it.” Beck agreed. “I'll be right back.”

It did not take long for Beck to get what Leilani requested and head back to their table. The human did not object to the homemade food, immediately digging in as if she hadn't had anything to eat in weeks. Beck patiently waited for the human to finish before he finally asked the question he had been dying to ask for the past year;

“Why did you take on a pseudonym before Doctor White and Doctor Sanda found you in Maine?”

For a horrifying moment, Leilani sat so still that Beck would have assumed he had taken Cryosphere's unnerving Cabbage Patch doll out for brunch instead of a human.

“Is that why you brought me here?” she then asked in a still, dark voice. “To know why I didn't want to be found after being falsely accused at such a tender age?”

“N-no!” Beck desperately tried to disagree. “I… I just want to know. W-when you were in hiding because Ray had abducted you-”

“Not the word I would have used,” Leilani lightly snickered, “But yeah?”

“When Ray hid you, you used the name Leila Ladan to keep everyone away from you for awhile. Why that name?”

Leilani absently circled her finger around the rim of her cup. She looked Beck in the eye when she told him in an emotionless tone, “Ladan was my mother's maiden name.”

For some reason, that wasn't the explanation Beck had been expected; no, no. This one was worse.  He could feel himself shrink as he let out a small, “Oh...”

“And Leila,” Leilani went on, “It's only two letters off from my real name. It's a kinda bad pseudonym in retrospect- but it worked.”

“It was a nice name...” Beck tried to offer.

“Same I'll have no reason to ever need it again.” Leilani agreed with a humored snort.

“Can… can I call you Leila?” the little bot found himself asking. “A-as a nickname of course!”

Leilani cocked an interested eyebrow. “You're a really weird robot, you know that? First you say you want to grow up, and now you want to give me a pet name? If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think you had a crush on me.”

There was a solid three seconds from the time the idea was said out loud to when the truth hit her. Color drained from Leilani's face before she marveled, “My god. You do have a crush on me, don't you?”

“Maybe it's guilt...” Beck mumbled, mostly to himself.

“You really don't know?”

Mighty Number Nine refused to look at the heiress of Blaise Factories and Company. Leilani ran a shaking hand through her hair, refusing to look away from the android sitting across from her. It made so much sense- and yet, it made things so, so much worse.

“Every day, I wonder what goes through your creator's head when he designs your AI.” she soon admitted. “And every day I just grow more horrified of what he could do if he actually thought his plans through. I love Raychel -we'd give our lives for each other- but I'm worried. She can lie to herself and I hate knowing that if something went wrong, that she'd… make herself...”

“I don't know if I've ever lied before.” Beck said, purposely not letting Leilani complete her thought. This did not help Leilani's perception of the situation at the moment.

“Beck, I don't think you understand; the Mighty Numbers are the most dangerous robots in the Battle Colosseum. The only way you guys lose is if you purposely throw the fight.”

Beck must have given her a funny look, because she continued.

“I've seen Pyrogen throw a fight before. Cryosphere, Dynatron, and Brandish are known to do it too.” She gave a small pause before looking Beck right in the eye. “You have too. That last match you had that Sanda made me oversee- you threw the match because you saw me in the audience. Didn't you?”

“I...” Beck faltered, but could find that he had no answer. “I did.”

Leilani stood a bit straighter before leaning closer to Beck, as if this next part of their conversation was top secret information. “You know what the most disturbing this is about you Mighty Numbers?”

“What?”

“If Raychel is attracted to me, and you apparently are too, does that mean the others are as well? And if that's the case, what does that mean of William Blackwell when Cryosphere was activated the same year I was born?” Leilani gave a rather unnerved sigh. “I think I'm just being paranoid. Or full of myself. Maybe both. But you Mighty Numbers… You're something else. You're your own identity. The Mighty Numbers as a whole, you guys… You're all so terrifying.”

Beck hung his head in shame, almost acknowledging that he knew how dangerous the Mighty Numbers could be had it not be for several laws and a decent morality system. With her pressing issues out in the open, Leilani relaxed a little before looking down at her empty cup.

“You know how only my dad can call me Leilai?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, there's only one person in this world that is allowed to call me Leila.”

“W-who's that?”

Leilani looked at Beck- it was an expression that was trying to be hard, but it was gentle instead. That was when the realization hit the bot.

“Y-you mean it? I can?!”

“Just promise me one thing.” the young woman then told him. “Never lie to me, Raychel, and -most importantly- yourself. On anything. Got it?”

“O-of course!” Beck eagerly agreed. “Anything you say!”

[energetic-nova]

So I guess this is the place to talk about this

I have been obsessed with Utapri since December now. And even though I am typically on the fujoshi side of fandom, with utapri, I went in with the mindset that I must try to find a perfect husband character to glom onto even though I am married and perfectly happy. And so everyone is aware, my real husband is most like Natsuki. XD My husband loves cute things, is bad at cooking, loves to care for me, is bisexual, and has a dark side (he has OCD real bad but I love him anyway ok). Lemme say, most loving husband ever. Very persistent and accepts everything about me. So with that in mind, here are my top 4 utapri boys and why it would never work with a couple despite me loving them. 4. Mikaze Ai: This is a relationship doomed to fail even though his voice is so smooth and relaxes me and his robotness attracts me as a scifi fan. The thing of it is, I can’t stand people judging me very well. Though I like hearing his judgement of others in a very in game way, I really wouldn’t want him to judge me. He also hates people who talk too much. And I am definitely one of those.  3. Syo Kurusu: I love this boy so much he doesn’t even know. But the thing of it is.... I am 5′8 (about 173 cm) and being so much taller than a boy so insecure about his height just wouldn’t work. I love him, and I love his height just fine but his insecurity would doom us from the start. We would make the best of friends tho. I am someone who would happily fangirl with him about all his shows. Syo was the first boy I chose when I started playing Utapri Shining Live, having never seen the anime. I guess I am like Natsuki that way...  2. Otoya Ittoki: Gosh what could I say other than he is basically an ideal sort of boy. He is so helpful and thoughtful and caring even when he is oblivious to space. I think there is a part of me who really wouldn’t feel she deserved such a nice boy. But also another part of me that wants more space. His energy is just so much, could I even keep up with this boy at all? I would love to tho. He is a sweetheart.  1. Cecil Aijima: I love how enthusiastic he is. I love how other than family, he is pretty drama free. I love how he is magical. I love that he would love me as a princess. I love that he could protect me from evil, or at least, he would try very very hard. I love that he can make people “happy” with a dance. I love that he has self respect enough to tell jerks no. I love that he would defend me from jerks. He is also blunt and honest and would be easy to get along with for me. I think Cecil could sooner accept my less than perfect sides... and I could accept his less than perfect sides. Otoya would feel more neglected by a person like me since he doesn’t have magical powers to tell how people are feeling. 

[laurels-blog]

Harry Potter and the Cursed Sister

Chapter One

Chapter Two

I woke up and looked in the mirror. I starred at my scar. I finally know how I got it. Voldemort cursed my half brother, Harry Potter, and since we’re twins it somehow cursed me as well. I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together. We literally have the same scar, in the same place, how could that be a coincidence? It makes sense as to why my father looked at Harry with worry, he knew this would happen. My pet owl started hooting at me.

“Saint, can’t you tell that this is not the time?” I said, turning to my all black owl. As I glanced over, my clock had said 10:00, I missed breakfast, and now I am missing my History of Magic class. I know I shouldn’t be missing class, but I can’t bring myself to face the school, they all would know by now, word travels fast. My biggest concern was facing my new found brother. 

It’s about 12 right now, which is lunch time. I still chose to stay in my room, not wanting to deal with anyone quite yet, also didn’t want to be reprimanded by my father for missing his class. As I sat looking in the mirror, I heard a small knock on my door.

“(Y/N), I know you could use someone to talk too.” The familiar voice said. I decided it was best to talk about the situation. I got up and walked to the door.

“Hermoine, you know you’re not suppose to be up in the Slytherin’s dorm.” I sighed.

“No one had the guts to come and talk to you.”

“Why?” I said confused.

“Well.. as a first year, you know more than most do. People slightly fear you because you’re so much more advanced than the rest of us. We didn’t know if you were angry. Not that we think you’d hurt anyone.” SHe rambled on.

I am fine.” 

“Stop saying that. It’s not just me who ais worried about you. Every single house is. The professor’s are. Malfoy and his dynamic duo approached the Gryffindor table asking about you. He was going to come up here if one of I hadn’t.” She said. I smiled, Hermoine may belong to a different house but I know she’s going to become my best friend.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, at least talk to them.” 

“Oh Hermoine.” I said, crying, yet again. She sat there hugging me. “I just don’t know how I am feeling anymore. Part of me is angry that my mother didn’t want me, I want to be angry with Harry because she chose him. But I can’t be. He grew up without parents. I feel bad for avoiding him I just don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.”

“(Y/N)!” Hermoine exclaimed.

“What?” 

“You didn’t tell me you were a metomorphmagus!!” She smiled.

“I’m not?” I questioned.

“As you were talking, as your emotions changed, your hair color changed. When you were talking about being angry, you hair turned a fiery red, when you started feeling sad about Harry, it was a pale blue. Now it’s a light grey turning back to your natural dark hair.”

“Whoa, I never knew I could do that!” I laughed.

“You know (Y/N), you should probably get some quidditch practice in. Tomorrow’s your first match.” She smiled. She was completely right, I had forgotten all about it.

“You’re right, I can get flying practice in while everyone else is in their one o’clock classes.” I smiled. I hugged Hermoine.

“I’ll walk you down.” She smiled. As we walked towards the practice field, I felt all the eyes on us, Hermoine gave my hand a reassuring squeeze to remind me that she’s there for me. when we got to the empty field, I summoned my broomstick. I turned to Hermoine and gave her a warm smile. She smiled back and began walking away. I mounted my broomstick when I heard her call my name.

“(Y/N)!!” She yelled, I turned back to her, as if to say yes. “Kick some Ravenclaw butt tomorrow.” She smiled and left.

When I was on my broomstick nothing else mattered, I always wore a smile of pure joy. I must’ve been on the broomstick for hours perfecting my techniques because it was definitely almost pitch black. I would’ve kept riding until I heard someone call my name.

“Snape!” The voice said. I knew exactly who it was. I lowered my broom to the ground and got off, walking towards the voice, not being able to see where I was going. I pulled out my wand a whispered “Lumos.”

“Good evening Draco.” I smiled, something about him made me feel warm inside.

“You seem prepared for tomorrow’s match.” He smiled.

“I hope so, being a first year and the seeker adds a whole lot of pressure.”

“From what I just observed you’ll do fine. I just wanted to say good luck tomorrow.” He said, walking away.

“Thank you!” I smiled. “Oh, and Malfoy?” 

“Yes?” He turned.

“Thank you for being concerned about me earlier, it was... sweet of you.” I smiled. 

“Oh, yeah, that was uh nothing.” He blushed and he began walking away.

“Malfoy!” I said, once more.

“Yeah?” He laughed.

“Walk with me to the common room?” I smiled.

“I’d love too.” 

“You know, you’re not so bad.” I smiled to him.

“Wow, neither are you.” He laughed back. Draco and I talked for what felt like hours. I really hit it off with him.

“Are you going to come watch me play?” I smiled at him.

“I wouldn’t wanna miss the first quidditch match, or miss you play.” He smiled. I let off a slight blush.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow than?”

“Goodnight Snape.” He said.

“Goodnight Malfoy.” I said before heading to my dorm for a good night’s sleep.

I woke up and put my quidditch robes on, today’s the day. The first match of the season. Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw. I put my hair into half up and half down space buns and braided my side hairs and headed to breakfast.

“Look at you (Y/N), you rock the quidditch uniform.” Draco said as I walked past, “whoa, your hair!”

“(Y/N), your hair is a blush pink.” Hermione came up and whispered. My face went pink.

“Oh no, Malfoy’s gonna know I have a slight crush.” I was so embarrassed.

“Oh (Y/N), your hair is yellow now, you’re embarrassed.” Hermione moaned.  I mouthed thank you to her as I sat with with Draco and his friends. I was all nervous throughout breakfast, Draco knew, but I didn’t know if it was because my hair changed color again or what. After a bit, in came owls, mail time.

“Whoa look at that big package.” Crabbe said. As if on que, the package dropped in front of me. My eyes went big.

“Well Snape!! Open it!” Goyle said. So I did, my eyes went even bigger.

“A custom Nimbus 2000?!” Crabbe said. I looked at the handle and carved into it said, “Good luck (Y/N), thank you for befriending our son. - the Malfoys” My hair had to have gone back to blush pink, Malfoy talked about me to his parents.

“You’ll have to tell your parents I said thank you.” I smiled. Malfoy nodded. My nerves calmed down after that.

Soon enough it was time for the first quidditch match. I remained in the great hall to talk to my family.

“Aww, the best of luck!!” Aunt Minerva said, kissing my cheek. “I’ll be cheering you on from the scoreboard.”

“You’ve got this sweetheart.” Uncle Flitwick chimed in. “Although, Ravenclaw will win.” He winked.

“Look at my sweet daughter, about to kick butt in her first quidditch match. I am so proud of you! Good luck!” My dad kissed my forehead. I was ready to do this. I headed to the locker room.

“Snape! You need to be on your A game, we have to win this.” Captain Marcus Flint said.

“You got it!” I smiled. I was confident in this, I had been practicing and practicing, I knew my broom techniques and flying techniques all to well, I got this.

“The first match of the season, Slytherin against Ravenclaw. Coming onto the field is Ravenclaw, led by Captain Davies, who’s full of upper class men.” Jordan Lee announced. “On the other side of the field, we have Slytherin, led by Captain Flint, his team has all strong candidates of upper class men, and one first year, (Y/N) Snape, who is rumored to be an outstanding quidditch player.”

The game began, I kept my eye open for the golden snitch. My eyes scanned the crowds, in the sea of maroon in Gryffindor’s section I noticed a lot of dark green. I squinted to get a better look at who it was. Hermione had gotten the Weasley boys and Harry to wear green with her, to support me. I smiled at her. I continued to scan the crowd and noticed Malfoy with the biggest grin on his face, I smiled back. As I looked at Malfoy I spotted the snitch, I zoomed towards it. Soon enough the Ravenclaw seeker spotted what I was after and joined me. We chased it and chased it. We must’ve been 25 feet in the air, the Ravenclaw seeker backed down, seemed to be scared of heights. I neared the snitch and I was close to snatching it when my broom went out of control. I hung on for life. It was throwing me around like I was riding a bull. I reached out my hand, in hopes to grab the snitch. I closed my hand and next thing I knew I was hurling towards the ground.

Sorry, it’s late, I’ve been busy busy this week.

I hope you’re enjoying the story so far!

Sidenote: As for the daily imagines, those will only be Monday-Friday, excluding Wednesday’s because that’s this story update day. I won’t post on holidays either.