#no i did not test them mostly because I don’t know how to use ai generators and dont want to learn
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Glaze seems to be overrun with requests right now, so I tried my hand at some of my own AI distortion overlays to minimize art theft from scrapers and bots… I figured some scrambled text might add to machine confusion so fingers crossed that these are moderately effective 🤞🤞🤞
Left is OG, right is with an overlay. Just import the image over your art, put it on Overlay or Soft Light, and lower the opacity to 30%-ish. You can adjust the colors and size of the image with transform and HSB to best fit your piece with minimal distraction.
These are relatively easy to make in Procreate if anyone wants a tutorial… the theory is that with enough random lines and colors the generators won’t be able to recognize the style as easily.
#feel free to use these btw!!#no i did not test them mostly because I don’t know how to use ai generators and dont want to learn#anti ai#art reference#glaze#ai disturbance#anti ai art#art resources#artists on tumblr#jess’s art
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AITA for turning someone in for academic dishonesty?
I’m an American IB diploma candidate, and this ask does center around that, so sorry if we all just sound unbearably seventeen-years-old.
If you don’t know what the IB diploma is, think of it as if you had to write a bunch of essays and take a bunch of classes and do a bunch of service hours and then take AP tests on all those classes and add the AP scores together, and if they add up to a certain number, you get a special diploma that looks good to colleges.
Only eight people in the entire grade (we’re seniors and our exams are happening so we’re at the very end) are left in the IB diploma program right now because we made it this far and are all hoping our exam scores and essays. The program isn’t super popular at our school so we tend to have to mostly prepare ourselves for exams and such, so we’re all very proud of ourselves for getting this far and hoping that when our scores come out we get the diploma.
In short, we’ve done TONS of work. TONS OF WORK. And we haven’t received the amount of support that some IB schools are able to give. And suddenly, one of the IB diploma candidates admits in the group chat, “yeah, chatgpt wrote all of my IB essays.” If you know stuff about IB, she explicitly admitted to cheating on her Extended Essay, TOK Essay, TOK exhibition, Chemistry HL IA, History HL IA, Literature HL Essay, and Art HL Comparative Study.
That’s hours and hours and hours and hours of work that the rest of the diplomats candidates did that she’s just flippantly admitting she let an AI do for her.
but…….it also wasn’t really any of my business. So I wasn’t sure whether I should tell or not—especially since I’m the known goody-two-shoes of the group and I didn’t want to be viewed as a tattletale.
I asked two of the diploma candidates I’m friends with what they thought. One of them said “don’t be a snitch,” and the other said she wasn’t sure and kinda felt like I should talk. So… split response.
I was leaning towards “don’t be a snitch,” but eventually I just felt really indignant that this girl and I might receive the same end result for doing wildly different amounts of work. And I had evidence that she cheated—she admitted it herself. So I went to the school’s IB coordinator and I talked. I showed the screenshot. I essentially betrayed one of the candidates in a very tight knit group of students who are all breaking our backs to get this diploma with little to no IB-specific support from our teachers (our classes are all co-seated with non-IB-test-takers, who take up most of the class, which is an entirely different issue), but now it turns out one of us wasn’t even doing the work the whole time…
So I did it and it went to the administration and they’re “deciding how to proceed.”
Reason I’m worried I’m TA: she trusted us with that information and I told on her
Reason I think I might not be TA: it feels unfair that we should have the same shot at getting the IB diploma when the nights I stayed up crafting the perfect extended essay were the same nights she asked chatgpt to write her an essay and then moved on with her life and somehow did it well enough to not get caught.
AITA?
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OTW Candidate Anh P.
I had a very long and interesting discussion with OTW-board candidate Anh P.
They tracked me down because they wanted to talk about how @squidgiepdx and I got otw-a working (for SquidgeWorld Archive and Ad Astra Fanfiction) and what we might suggest to make otw-archive more easily deployable to other, independent archives. What might make it easier to use. It was a really productive conversation, too, enough that Walter and I have decided to start tackling the setup documentation from the outside to see if we can’t make it as easy as possible for others to deploy otw-archive, and to test a few things we think might make it more not-OTW userfriendly. (Like changing the hard-coding of OTW/AO3 to something that can be configured from the local.yml file.)
Anh P. is Vietnamese, very aware of the situation re: racism, AI, and the consequences of PAC being overridden. They’ve been a volunteer for both Fanlore and Open Doors and have been for long enough to be able to run for board, but not so long that they’re completely assimilated. They also have deep connections to the pan-Asian fan communities, including those currently marginalized by OTW’s present administrative structures.
Mostly, I'm impressed as hell that they not only wanted to talk to two people who have definite Opinions on OTW, but were genuinely and actively seeking our thoughts, good or bad, about what we would suggest to make the software more easily used by others seeking to do the same as we did.
I know I don't have a real stake in the debate over racism, being white and American and unable to understand the lived experiences of those who suffer it both in everyday life and in fandom, but they made excellent points about how decentralizing fandom and otherwise helping people be able to curate their own, inclusive spaces with their own rules might help with that.
They showed me a script a Chinese user made which is frankly brilliant to translate the AO3 Work posting page, and which could easily be translated to other languages, it’s so intuitive.
The part that sent my eyebrows up was their desire to use OTW's platform to help support independent fan archives in order to keep them afloat, rather than just let them sink and import them to AO3 via Open Doors, including not-Anglosphere archives and communities.
So, take it as you will, but I was very impressed someone was doing some of the harder legwork and seeking outside opinions, especially opinions that aren’t necessarily OTW-friendly, and with an eye towards actual measurable hard action that can be taken to start addressing some of the problems OTW is having right now.
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Mystictober Day 21-- Video Games
You have a lot of questions about Ray’s work as a game developer (915 words).
Ray has spent a long time doing research for this plan— but not long enough, apparently. He always knew that in order to pose as a game developer, he would have to know at least a little bit about video games. Obviously, he wouldn’t be able to get away with his scheme without convincing you that he is not just any video game designer, but a confident and competent one to boot. You need to fully believe that he created six incredibly responsive AI characters with chatbot and voice call features, and you need to believe that the “game” you’re playing will be worth your while.
So Ray spent months researching games in between his work and his prayers. He made as much time as he could to get to know different genres of games, how they tend to work and the types of people that they’re designed to ensnare. It goes without saying that he devoted extra time to learning about dating sims of all kinds. He mistakenly believed that his command of this knowledge would be more than enough to convince you of his expertise in the field.
However, now that you’re actually here, you have more questions than Ray can answer. “What’s the name of your studio?” You ask conversationally as he leads you through the garden, arm looped around yours the way a proper gentleman would do it.
“Oh…” Ray searches for an answer. Why didn’t he think of this before? If he gives you the name of a well-known studio, then you might ask him more questions that he won’t be able to answer about games that he’s falsely claimed credit for. If he makes up a name or chooses a more obscure studio— not that he actually knows any of those by name in the first place— you might start to wonder why he has so many resources at his disposal. “I… I can’t tell you that, I’m afraid, MC. This whole testing process is top-secret.”
“Mmmm… okay.” But you don’t sound convinced at all. “Can you tell me… about another game you’ve made? You don’t even have to tell me the name, just what it’s like to play… and maybe some plotlines?”
Ray forces himself to chuckle at this. He hopes it sounds more good-natured and amused than blatantly nervous. As cute as you are when you’re looking at him this way, it’s nerve-wracking to consider how close you are to uncovering Ray’s secret. “Ah-ah, prince(ss),” he scolds you gently in a tone that will hopefully distract you from your relentless inquiries. “You know I can’t tell you that, either.”
“It was worth a shot,” you shrug, and Ray continues to wrestle with his emotions. More than anything, he wants you to stop asking questions— but at the same time, he’s happy that you’re taking an interest in him and his work, even if the task in question is mostly made-up. “But alright. I’ll let you keep your secrets for now.”
“Thank you.” Ray is thanking you of course, but in a way, he’s also thanking God for delivering him from such an awkward and precarious situation.
“I did have some questions about the AIs in your game, though,” you admit.
“Oh.” Ray heaves a sigh of relief. “That’s alright. I’ll tell you anything you want to know about them, my love.” The term of endearment slips out before he can think better of it.
Ray watches intently as heat rises to your cheeks. Thankfully, you don’t call him out on his slip of the tongue. You must like being spoken to sweetly as much as he likes speaking that way to you. “It’s just… what data did you use to train them?”
Oh no. Ray wasn’t expecting this at all. He thought you meant that you wanted to ask him about the RFA members’ interests and backgrounds, or perhaps how you could romance them. He never expected you to want to know about the process of making the AIs. The fact that you do is a problem, not least because Ray has never made an AI in his life and has no idea whatsoever how to train one. If only he’d had time to do more research!
“Um…” As it stands, he has to give you something. He can already tell that you’ll get suspicious if he doesn’t handle this question correctly. “It was data from popular romance novels, but… I was the one who programmed the AIs the way I wanted them.”
“Popular romance novels.” You screw up your face as you turn Ray’s words over in your mouth. “Did they have a copyright agreement?”
Seeing his blunder, Ray immediately corrects himself. He can still salvage this, right? “The authors all gave their consent,” he blurts out, “I can show you the documents if you like. “ Internally, he kicks himself for making a promise when he knows full well that he will never be able to keep it. Not unless he fabricates documents, which he knows he won’t have time to do.
“That’s okay, Ray,” you assure him, “I trust you.”
Ray can’t help but heave yet another sigh of relief. “Thank god,” he breathes, against his better judgment.
A pretty smile lights up your lovely face. Evidently, you’re endeared by Ray’s slight embarrassment. “Maybe I’ll stop grilling you now,” you decide. Ray feels as though he’s being carried off by a chorus of angels. “Let’s just enjoy our walk.”
Ray would like nothing better.
#mm_mystictober2024#mystic messenger#mystic messenger drabble#choi saeran#saeran choi#ray mystic messenger#fanfiction
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Objective: To have fun around using 3D, digital painting and AI image generation. Testing the resources needed, the modularity, expediency of the process, and how accurate the results could be. Idea: I wanted something like a that reminisced old timey pulp magazine cover, but with a modern look. Ideally, it would look dreamy and foggy. Assets: Characters modelled on Genesis 8 base, with morphs and textures made by myself. Background is a mix of custom 3D objects, plus store bought scenary (IIRC Grovebrook Park and Urban Sprawl). On the AI side, I used the models Chillout Mix and NeverEnding Dream. I also used free images here and there. Process: I started with a 3D render, the ones I usually do. I tried many poses, my lighting options (turns out that doesn't make a difference). Then I started splicing the image in multiple parts by theme (Lois, background, Clark, etc...) and started tweaking them with AI, and digitally painting over when needed, doing many generations, a lot of repainting and blending. The objective was to take these bunch of different layers and blend them to something somewhat coherent. Problems: It's definitively more labor intensive than just painting, or using AI, or manipulating 3D objects then rendering, mostly because all three methods hate each other I guess. And I'm not very good. For one, AI hates faces. And eyes. Faces with glasses. And hands. And limbs. And edge of clothes. And objects. And everything. It will try to mix everything, fuse clothing to body, deform limbs, etc. Jon was supposed to be snapping his fingers, but AI really wanted him to hold a glass... or hallucination object. Every new layer needed more painting to add cohesion. And it was not very predictable, I wanted, for example, to make Lois look less like a teenaged anime girl, but the model does have biases. After that, make the whole thing look not like a bunch of layer barely blended at the borders was more time intensive than difficult, per se. I couldn't just chuck the whole image on AI and hope it would do it for me because I don't have a server room full of GPUs, and I didn't want to compromise on resolution, so I did by hand. I will pretend the ghosting was an intentional artistic choice. It was my first time doing this, so... yeah, there are things that I didn't know I could do that would have helped in the beginning. My thoughts: Overall, it's very resource intensive process, for GPU, time and energy. It's not very modular, or more precisely, not easily modular. I did a test with an older Jon model and just the thought of spending even more hours made me decide it's not worth it. There's an advantage that it's free, but it's also single use unlike 3D stuff you can make or purchase or just find online. Aesthetically... I don't dislike how Clark or Jon came out, but Lois was not the best. It was fun, if exhausting.
#3d#fanart#dc fanart#superman#superhero#clark kent#jon kent#lois lane#superboy#digital art#civilian clothes
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Somehow Charles managed to convince Ominis to bring them into Salazar's Scriptorium, it felt wrong, everything about this was wrong but if they could find answers it was worth it right?. Charles and Ominis bounded easily over their past trauma with the dark arts , so he knew how to talk to the heir about these things, even if he hated the idea of having to bring Ominis with them, but everyone needed some sort of answers even him.
As they wandered through the Scriptorium the hufflepuff started to find some sort of diary entries from Ominis's aunt Noctua, he read them to the slytherin everytime he found one, while Apollo and Sebastian where busy with the puzzles Salazar left behind, Charles also tried to help as best as he could. Then they got to the final test, a dark corridor dead end and the door behind them locked with no way back.
Charles walked towards the portrait at the end of the corridor finding what he assumed was Noctua's skeleton and reading the final entry to her nephew. On the ground the word crucio was glowing and the door had a mural of someone screaming in pain, it was too obvious andafter reading Noctua's entry even more, they had to cast the curse.
Charles stood in the middle of Sebastian and Apollo as he spoke "I- I can handle the pain, cast it on me...", then inmediately the redhead turned to him with a frowned expression clearly not happy about the idea.
"Are you insane!? you really think I'm letting you go through that? after all you've suffered with this curse?....", even if the tone was calm there was some tone of anger in it which was understable considering the situation they were in.
" It's fine, I don't want you or any of them to feel that pain, I know how it feels so I should be able to handle it better..." the hufflepuff tried to reason with them mostly Apollo because he knew the other would be the hardest one to convince.
"Ominis also knows how it feels and he is smart enough to not to want to go through any of it, NO we're not doing this... " it was a firm sentence leaving Charles with no option to protest only mutter a "But-" before he was cut. "Sebastian if one of us is casting this curse is gotta be me, if you are ready to face the consecuences, of course".
Sebastian's eyes widdened amused at the statement "wait!... you know how to cast crucio? " Apollo never talked about it to anyone only Charles knew about it because he had been there, when it happened, they were too young and Apollo wsa only trying to protect Charles but it still terrified everyone arround them when he did it, chatching everyone by surprise, after all who would think a kid knew how to wield such magic and more important without a wand. " I-huh...yeah it's a long story..." Apollo bitted his lip knowing Charles would not like the idea as he was the one frowning now, so the redhead rubbed his nape nervously before he continued " it's been ages since I did it but, I think I can do it again if I have to...".
Sebastian tilted his head, not entirely convinced but they needed to get out of here somehow, so he decided to trust his new friends " alright then, as long as we get out of here alive..., i guess I can handle the pain...." taking a deep breath he finally gave a reassuring nod he was ready to suffer the consequences anything to save Anne " let's do it! ".
Charles could hear Ominis pacing behind them and turned around to check on him "this is madness! why are we even discussing any of it! I shouldn't have agreed to do this!", that hit like a punch seeing Ominis in that state was horrible so he approached the slytheryn and put a reasuring hand against his shoulder carefully and gently. "They will be fine... they are both stubborn asses but they are right, this is our only solution if we don't want to end up like Noctua....I'm really sorry for involving you into this".
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Audio made with Ai
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Hope y'a'll enjoy it is the first drabble I post on this acc let me know it you would want to know more about these two or if you would like me to post more drabbles of my OCs here and on my main acc.
Sending all the luv <3
#; oh look I can write alkdnjflaksdjnflskdjnf )#oneshot#original characters#Charles Payne#« CP × About »#Apollo Weasley#« AW × About »#Sebastian Sxllow#Ominis Gxunt#; TW ; Angst )#; TW ; Dark Arts )#; ANTIJKR )
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AU where deltarune and undertale are merged and all the darkners are monsters. i have a TON of lore thoughts about this au that didn’t make it into drawings so, more details under the cut
-i guess biggest thing first: card castle. which didn’t get a drawing because i don’t really have any design changes i wanna make to it? but it mostly stays the same - it’s a smaller sub-kingdom inside the underground, that’s ordinarily led by four rulers. spade king staged a coup and now he has designs on the throne of the entire underground, because he’s of the opinion that asgore’s too wishy-washy and not fit to rule.
-spade king wants the human SOULs to make himself strong enough to defeat asgore, because he knows right now he’s definitely not gonna beat him in a fair fight
-gaster built queen alongside the CORE. he intended for her to be sort of a backup emergency system, storing all the data on how to keep things running in case anything ever happened to him. he didn’t ever intend for her to be placed in charge of it full-time, but then, he never envisioned a whole city springing up around his creation either. or getting erased from spacetime. funny how life happens sometimes, isn’t it?
-queen actually couldn’t care less about breaking the barirer. as the personification of the CORE, she physically can’t leave the immediate area of cyber city anyway, so she has no real incentive to help asgore collect souls. however, she DOES care a lot about alphys, who has taken over helping her keep the CORE running, and has noticed that she’s been... quiet, lately. like something’s weighing on her she doesn’t want to talk about. queen wants to give her some new test subjects to help cheer her up! (this absolutely will not cheer her up)
-berdly is alphys’ intern, which really means he gets shoved off onto queen most of the time, because alphys is too nervous to handle instructing a whole person even when she’s not also covering up a massive science disaster in her basement. to her credit, queen handles the annoying little nerd pretty well.
-alphys building mettaton’s body and all still happens in this ‘verse. queen’s well aware mettaton’s a poser and not a real AI, but she’s not going to say anything about it yet
-mettaton has no real interest in the management side of stardom, and alphys is too anxious to handle the people stuff even if she did have the time, so he rolled over to the storefront side of cyber city and picked up an addison that wasn’t doing anything because they live for this kinda stuff, right?
-and somehow managed to pick up The Worst One.
-the brand really shouldn’t be doing as well as it is considering who’s in charge of it, but somehow things seem to be working out okay? things are selling, the ads are working, people are showing up to performances, so probably best to just... let spamton keep doing whatever it is he’s doing?
-also mettaton would never admit it but he’s kind of got a soft spot for the little dude. he knows exactly how it feels growing distant from your family once you finally get the fame you’ve been chasing, after all
-the holidays live in snowdin, of course! mrs. holiday isn’t the mayor, but she IS very involved in local organizing and hosts a lot of get-togethers. noelle helps out at the library.
-rudy... was handed over to the royal scientist for experimental treatment once it became clear the local hospital wasn’t enough, and they haven’t seen him since. noelle would really, really like to see her dad, but she knows that it’s probably important not to disturb doctor alphys or the other patients. she can wait! it’s fine!
-in the meantime, she’s been sneaking over to waterfall a lot. it’s quiet and peaceful there, and she used to come here with her dad a lot, whispering into echo flowers and making them “talk” to each other. it’s a nice place for her to get away when everything feels like too much
-also, waterfall has susie in it!
-susie is a swamp monster who lives in the swamp. this just felt right.
-after some initial confusion/fright (on noelle’s part) and hostility (on susie’s part), they slowly warmed up to each other. susie’s brash, reckless nature is kind of a balm for noelle’s soul, when she really wishes she could just get up on the roof and scream at the universe that nothing is FAIR. and susie REALLY likes it when she can get noelle to come out of her shell a little and do crazy things with her. who knew this adorable deer girl had such a loud side!
#deltarune#the nemesis speaks#swift plays deltarune#i don't really have much of a plot here in terms of what happens when the humans arrive#mostly just setting#deltatale
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nerd!armin x popular bimbo girl!reader?
the reader needs a tutor so she asks the smartest boy on campus and they have a “study session” in the library
Thank you for your request! I hope you like it! (ALSO: I’m so sorry this took so long to write omgmgg please forgive me) ~ I also would like to write a better version of this later. Though I'm in love with this prompt, I feel I didn't write the smut part that well.
Minors DNI! NSFW below the cut. Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader.
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At this point, Armin’s legs were burning, his heart racing and hands uncontrollably shaking, while you were practically out breath, your lungs tightening as you released yet another hearty laugh and not caring about the sweat running down your forehead. Neither you nor Armin expected to be running away from the librarian at 2am in the morning on the cold, campus sidewalk, your hair and makeup questionably messy and his shirt noticeably unbuttoned with hickeys staining his neck. However, the thrill of it all was something you didn’t know you both needed…
Earlier:
“Y/n?” Armin questioned, waving his sharpened pencil in front of your face. “Are you paying attention?” He awkwardly laughed as he scratched the back of his neck. You look up at him, battering your mascara-covered eyelashes at him. “Ahh… I have no idea what’s going on,” you sighed.
Armin wanted to bang his head against the library table. He knew it would be difficult teaching the ‘campus bimbo,’ but he didn’t know it would be this hard… yet there he was. 1am on a Thursday, the test tomorrow, and you still couldn’t grasp the basics of quadratic functions.
“Why don’t we take a break?” he suggested, loudly dropping his pencil on the table, leaning back in his chair, and adjusting his disheveled collar poking out of his blue sweater.
“Okay!” you giggled mindlessly, turning to face him in your chair as you twirled your hair in your fingers. “Even though I’ll probably fail the test tomorrow, thank you for teaching me!” you exclaimed, fiddling with your compact mirror and checking your dolled-up face.
Armin tensed up at your backhanded words. Pushing his hair back out of frustration, he cursed the fact he was wasting his time with such an ai-headed girl. “Y-you’re welcome,” he hastily said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Why didn’t he say no to your study session - if you could even call it a study session - ? Even though Armin was the school nerd, it’s no surprise to him that you came and asked him for help because, well… Everyone does that - always taking advantage of Armin - only talking to him because they want to use his neat, color-coded notes, only inviting him to parties so that he would later help them study.
You felt bad for Armin. Though you couldn’t deny he was way too uptight, everyone did make fun of him for every little thing; the way he dressed like a professor, how he was always so punctual, the way he was the first to raise his hand when the teacher asked a question, how he came extra prepared to class with extra pencils.
But being so close to him now, this was the first time you realized how handsome he actually was. His turquoise veins protruding from his soft, pale skin… his slender fingers gently holding his flashcards, his toned muscles peeking their way through his rolled up sleeves and making his clothes just a little tight, the sharpness of jawline contrasting with his kind, bright smile, the way his ocean blue eyes stared intently with such passion, and his thick, golden hair growing to his eyebrows, allowing his cute ears to shyly show themselves while his undercut beautifully shaped his face… he was beautiful.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” you suddenly asked.
Armin was taken aback by this question. No one had ever asked him this nor did any one seem to have any interest in his personal life whatsoever.
“No,” he paused, “I don’t have time for that stuff…” he trailed off. Armin never had a girlfriend, and thinking about it now, he never really had any crushes. He was way too busy keeping up with his grades, extra curricular activities, and student council. It would be practically impossible for him to keep such close relations with his kind of responsibilities, but that doesn’t mean he’s not lonely… his arms aching for someone to hold, his heart cold due the absence of warmth of a person he loves.
Armin didn’t bother asking you if you had a boyfriend. You were the most popular person on campus, partying with countless dudes every weekend, hanging out with a large group of girls at the mall nearly every day, your phone buzzing so much during class that your professor told you multiple times to turn it off, and you were pretty - your hair was always done in a pretty style, your makeup (though a bit slutty) always brought out the best features of your face, your nails were always painted, your skin was smooth and silky, and your perfume scent was addicting. Not only that but your clothes showed off your body so well; your skirt that was just a little short allowed people to see your cute panties when you bend over to pick something up, and your shirt that was barely even a shirt was always cropped above your waist and showed off your bouncy, plush cleavage… so of course you had a boyfriend. But even though Armin was an incredibly focused nerd, he couldn’t deny that your sweet smell, tight clothes, and lipstick-covered lips made him lustful.
“Too busy for that stuff?! Aren’t you lonely? It’s like you don’t even know how to have fun,” you chuckle, jokingly hitting his shoulder which happened to be really muscular underneath his sweater.
“Haha yeah,” he said, seemingly uninterested in where you were going with this.
“If you’re so busy, does that mean you don’t have time to masturbate?” you giggled, covering your plump mouth with your hand and fluttering your eyelashes at him.
Armin became extremely flustered as tints of red washed over his body in waves.
“W-what?” he stuttered. “Why are you asking me these questions? We are supposed to be studying!” he quietly shrieked, looking away to break eye contact with you and playing with the watch on his wrist.
“Haha, I am just joking. You’re such a nerdy boy, just want to make you blush,” you sincerely smiled.
“W-well I am a young college student, so obviously I - I do that from time to time thanks to p-porn,” he stammered.
“Woah woah wait. Someone as uptight and rigid as you watches porn?” you harshly laughed, genuinely shocked. You scooted your chair closer to him and leaned into his neck, your hot breath caressing his skin and your hair resting upon his shoulder. “What kind of porn does this nerd like to watch?” you inquired, widely grinning as you saw how embarrassed Armin had become.
On the inside, Armin was fuming, mostling frightened that he had gotten himself into an embarrassing loop with no escape that would most likely be gossiped about amongst the popular students, but mostly angry that some dumb, slutty bitch was wanting to pry into his personal life, not even appreciating the fact that he spent countless hours in the library helping you study to no avail because you couldn’t pay attention if your life depended on it… that this same dumb, slutty bitch was just getting her fun from teasing some nerd who is taken advantage of and forgotten by everyone… angry that you - with your pretty makeup, plump lips, short skirt, and overflowing cleavage - weren’t paying the price for your teasing.
Suddenly, Armin sat up in his chair, his muscles tensing through his clothes, and an aggravated look forming across his face, wrinkling his brows. He quickly takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you close to his face, allowing you to see the different shades of blue in his eyes and his soft, blond eyelashes. His innocent, geeky look is nowhere to be found on his face as he intensely stares into your eyes.
“It just so happens that this nerd likes to watch useless, empty-headed bimbos like you get their pussies abused,” he said, dominance seething from his teeth as his mint breath hits your face. Before you even have time to think, Armin unbuttons his slacks and practically forces your mouth on his hard, pretty cock.
Watching you gag and choke on his cock with saliva dribbling down your chin made him laugh. “You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, slut, we’re in a library remember?” he coos. He abruptly pulls you off his cock, taking in the sight of his lipstick-stained tip and the mascara tears streaming down your face. His treatment was so harsh and so sudden, making you miss the ‘nicer’ and ‘quieter’ Armin, but you couldn’t deny his sudden dominance made your aching cunt flood with arousal.
Before doing anything else, Armin scans the library, making sure no one is around. Grabbing your wrist, he forces you to sit on his lap, facing him on top of the library chair. Everything happened so quickly, barely even leaving you time to think, barely leaving you time to think that Armin was using your body to relieve his anger and frustration, not leaving you time to realize how sopping wet your needy cunt actually was.
Sitting atop his lap, he spreads your plush, soft thighs, exposing the fact that you didn’t wear any panties to this study session, causing Armin’s eyes to widen.
“I don’t know why I’m so surprised that a whore like you wouldn’t wear anything underneath your short skirt to our little ‘play date,’” he snickers. He leans close to your ear, softly biting your neck. “It’s almost like you were asking to be fucked by me.”
You don’t know what to say. Your mind is so empty, fuzzy, and shocked that the only thing you can do is comply when he demands that you ride his cock. Armin lets out a low groan from the bottom of his throat as your tight, warm pussy encloses his thick cock. You let a pathetic whimper as he begins to thrust up into you, and Armin gives you a glare, reaching up and tightening his hands around your throat. “Remember, you have to be quiet, or are you too dumb to remember that?” he sinisterly smiles.
Armin begins to harshly thrust into you as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto dear life as he deeply penetrates your spongy, sensitive walls. He slithers his slender hands into your shirt and starts toying with your nipples and pinching them when you’re being too loud.
Groping your ass, he whispers in your ear, “you know, I don’t even know why you’re in college… you’re so dumb. Why don’t you just drop out and be my little slut for when I come back after class, huh?” You sink your head into the crook of his neck, embarrassment coming over you at the same time as pleasure fills your walls when he tells you those mean words.
He grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him. Your hair is a tangled mess, your makeup completely smeared, and your eyebrows furrowed as your innocent-looking eyes beg for some type of release.
“F-fuck, you look so dirty,” he groans, leaning his head back.
“And you look like two students who are going to be in so much trouble…”
Both of you tense up and look behind you to find the librarian staring daggers into your souls.
Immediately, you hop off of Armin’s dick, gathering your things as he struggles to pull up his pants. Both of you at an ungodly speed bolt out of the library doors. Yeah, getting potentially banned from the library would suck, but maybe it was something you both needed. Armin needed to learn to loosen up, have some fun, and you needed to learn to take things seriously and maybe just put in a little more effort.
“Ya’know, it’s kind of late. We can go back to my dorm, and I can help you study for maybe another half hour… if you want,” Armin shyly asks as you both continue running down the sidewalk.
“What about the other half hour?” you questioned.
Armin’s face grows red. “We can finish… chemistry…”
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can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;
i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.
myg at home headcanon
🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points
The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.
Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.
He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.
Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.
Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.
Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.
Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.
What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.
He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.
Self-made paintings everywhere around his house.
Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.
Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like.
Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.
There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.
His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.
Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.
Owns lord knows how many comic collections.
Favorite holiday destination: New York.
Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.
Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.
Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.
No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.
Chronically addicted to making out.
Matching black outfits and glasses.
Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.
Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.
It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.
He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine.
If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.
If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.
If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.
He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.
But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.
He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.
If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.
In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.
Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.
Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.
Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.
He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.
Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship.
This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.
Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.
Yoongi shaves his legs.
All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.
He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.
Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.
Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like.
Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.
Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.
Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.
Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.
He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.
Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.
He collects pajamas and earrings.
Swears on the phone.
Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.
Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that.
He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.
Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same.
Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.
Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.
Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.
Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.
Scrubs the bathroom religiously.
The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.
Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.
Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket.
Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.
He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.
Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.
Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.
Couple sunrise watching.
© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.
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It’s Been A Long, Long Time | ch 4
Summary: When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
Taglist: @kyrah-williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo @super-cape @ferxaniti @namjoonwatcheshentai @fandomsstolemylife00 @youngblood199456 @nightlygiggless @darlingely
Amoretta swam in and out of sleep. Whenever she surfaced, she saw bright lights and strange faces, and, assuming that she was in a HYDRA lab, she decided it was better if she just kept on dreaming. After a while, though, she couldn’t manage it anymore, and she finally woke up enough to actually take in her surroundings.
She was in a hospital bed, and...a gown? She couldn’t remember the last time she had been given clothing. When she tried to move, she found that her arms ached, and she had an IV sticking out of her. Okay, so wherever she was, they were trying to take care of her. Maybe. That seemed like a good sign.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” a man’s voice said. “How’re you feeling?”
A figure came into view, blurry at first, and as he got closer she was able to get him in focus. Amoretta immediately stiffened, feeling threatened by this stranger, but as the scent of omega wafted in, she relaxed slightly. She couldn’t smell any alphas nearby, and that was good.
Two good signs so far.
“Wh-who are you?” She asked, her voice wobbly and hoarse. Her throat was so sore that talking was painful.
“My name is Dr. Bruce Banner.” The man said, reaching towards a nearby table and grabbing a water bottle off of it. “I’m with the Avengers.”
Amoretta frowned. “The...who?”
He came near her slowly, twisting the cap off the bottle and offering it to her. “You’ve probably got a lot of questions. Mind if I ask a couple, though?”
She gave a little shrug as she raised the bottle to her lips. It felt strange to hold, the water tasting...different from what she was used to.
“Can you tell me your name?”
She thought for a moment, brows knitting together. “Subject 1096.”
It was Bruce’s turn to frown. “Did you ever have a...different name?”
After a moment, she nodded, trying to remember. It felt like it was on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach. Had it really been so long since she had gotten to say it?
“We can come back to that one.” Bruce said gently. “Do you know what year it is?”
She thought for a moment. “19...1986.”
The doctor pulled off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose and mumbling something along the lines of “Christ, not another one…”
She got the feeling that she was off by a few years.
“Well, Ten...is it alright if I call you that?”
She shrugged.
“...alright. Ten, it seems like you were cryogenically frozen for a few decades.”
“...decades?”
He nodded. “Your body seems to have handled it well, though.”
“Did I puke?” She asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Not that I saw.” He chuckled.
Well, that was a little surprising. She had a tendency to vomit after being wrenched out of unnaturally cold naps. “Where am I?”
“You’re in my lab, at Stark Tower.”
“What continent?”
“North America.”
She made a thoughtful noise. “What month is it?”
“June.”
“So Ursa Major is out?”
Bruce paused. “...well, it’s hard to see with all the light pollution in the city, but...yes, I suppose it should be…”
She let out a sigh. “I miss it.”
Her voice was already sounding tired again, and Bruce was quick to take the water bottle back before it slipped from her hand.
“You should get some more rest, Ten.” He suggested. “We’ve got plenty of time to get you caught up when you’re feeling more energetic.”
“Mhm.” her eyes fluttered closed. “Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“What city am I in?”
“New York.” He said, looking down at her curiously. “Manhattan, more specifically. Why?”
She smiled a little. “I wanna see...Brooklyn…”
As she drifted off to sleep again, Bruce rubbed his face. Well, that certainly was oddly specific of her to say. It was a good sign that she seemed lucid, though.
“Captain Rogers is outside, Dr. Banner.” FRIDAY’s AI voice said.
Bruce met him at the door, making his way out as quietly as possible. Steve looked anxious, standing with his hands on his hips as he waited for news. He hadn’t gotten a chance to find Bucky yet, his friend either working out or sleeping, and all he had managed so far was a quick debriefing and a shower.
“I ran down as soon as FRIDAY called,” he said. “How is she?”
“Sleeping again. Just missed her.” Bruce said wryly. “Walk with me, I’m starving.”
Steve fell into step beside him, heading towards the elevators. “Did she say anything?”
“She did. She seemed a bit out of it...couldn’t remember her name, hasn’t been awake since 1986.” He hit the UP button and stood back. “Seemed very interested in constellations, though. And Brooklyn.”
Steve stared at him. “Brooklyn?”
“Told her she was in New York, and the last thing she said before she fell asleep was something about Brooklyn.” Bruce shrugged. “Really interesting thing was her blood tests, though.”
“Blood tests?” Steve asked, stepping into the elevator and waiting for Bruce to join him before the doors closed again.
“Definitely an omega.” Banner said as they headed up several floors. “Her scent is so muted because they pumped her full of enough suppressants to kill a normal person. Pretty sure that’s why she’s so tired...her body is working overtime trying to process such a high dose. I think it was just pooling in her system while she was in cryo, not really going anywhere, so now her kidneys are doing everything they can to—“
“Banner.” Steve interrupted before he had to listen to an entire scientific explanation.
“Right. Sorry.” The scientist cleared his throat. “There was something else that I found already. She’s, uh…well, at some point, she was given super soldier serum.”
Steve froze. “HYDRA gave the serum...to an omega?”
“It’s confusing to me, too,” Bruce put his hands up in defeat. “Thanks to that, though, it’s hard to determine how old she is, or who she is, without her telling us. All I know is that she’s an unmarked omega super soldier with a hell of a dose of heat suppressants to work through.”
“Any idea when she’ll be up again?” Steve asked as the elevator dinged to signal their arrival.
“Hard to say.” Bruce said, following the alpha out towards the shared kitchen near the common area.
“I need to get to the bottom of this, Banner. FRIDAY, will you find Bucky? I need you to tell him—“
“Tell him what?” A voice asked.
Steve smiled in relief. Bucky was there, sitting on the couch with a plate of Alfredo balanced in his metal hand, looking mildly curious about whatever his friend was talking about.
“Oh, good,” Steve said, approaching him, Banner following behind. “You’re already here.”
“What is it, Stevie?” He asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Well, as you know, I visited an abandoned HYDRA base today.”
“I’m aware.”
“And I found...something.”
“...something. What kind of something?”
Steve suddenly wasn’t sure how to describe his discovery. “Well, it’s a...not an it, I mean, I found a…”
“Rogers here brought back an omega test subject.” Bruce interrupted. “She’s down in the lab right now sleeping off some nasty meds.”
Bucky’s posture hadn’t changed, despite how awkward and almost nervous Steve had gotten. He leaned back against the cushions, slurping down a few noodles while he regarded his friend with a mild expression.
“Alright, so?” He asked.
“So...I was wondering if you had any idea what HYDRA was doing experimenting on an omega.” Steve said, hands on his hips in a stance that was supposed to say I mean business, so listen to me.
Bucky wasn’t bothered by it. He was the biggest, toughest alpha in the tower, aside from the rare occasions Thor was roughing it down on Midgard with the rest of them. The others could puff up and posture all they wanted at him, but it never had any effect. He was always calm and cool, generally disinterested in their displays. He knew he was stronger, and he didn’t need to prove it, especially not when he didn’t have an omega to fight over.
He shrugged. “I want exactly privy to all their secrets. I know they kept cells full of omegas around for a while.”
“What did they do with them?” Steve asked.
“Whatever they wanted?” Bucky shook his head. “I really don’t know. If they were experimenting on ‘em, that never concerned me.”
“You’ve gotta know something, Buck.” Steve sounded exasperated.
“Why do you care so much?” He asked.
“Because something isn’t adding up.” Steve growled.
“They gave this omega enough heat suppressants to last a lifetime,” Bruce said. “Her system is all kinds of messed up.”
“Makes sense.” Bucky ate another mouthful. “HYDRA wouldn’t want to deal with hormones going crazy or any unplanned pups.”
Steve stared down at his friend. “Did they let you rut?”
“Stevie, at least take me out to dinner before you start asking about my sex life fifty years ago.” Bucky said dryly.
Steve just raised an eyebrow.
“...yeah. They did. Think they couldn’t stop my ruts.” He relented.
“So did they...you know…” Steve trailed off awkwardly.
“Were you ever given omegas to get you through them?” Bruce asked, proving once again how much more capable of having this conversation he was than Steve.
Bucky finally had to glance away from them in embarrassment. “Well…yeah. But I, uh...the Soldier, he would just kind of...well, they didn’t really last long, if you uh. Catch my drift.”
Steve paled.
Bruce gulped.
“...what? Look, I’m better now, I’m way past that. Besides, I never meant to hurt anyone, I wasn’t myself—“
“This omega is a super soldier.” Bruce said quietly.
Bucky’s face dropped, a flicker of something passing over his face. “...what?”
—
“Finally,” Bruce sighed happily, inhaling the smell of leftover pizza.
“Bucky, does the number 1096 mean anything to you?” Steve asked. He was sitting in a chair across from his friend, Bruce sitting at the kitchen island while he ate his dinner.
Bucky shook his head. “Don’t remember any numbers like that. They mostly just called ‘em all omega.”
He was trying to seem cool and collected, but his scent had shifted slightly. Steve could catch just the slightest hint of distress in it, and as he did so, he narrowed his eyes. He may have been separated from Bucky for almost 80 years, but he was still his best friend, and he could tell when he was hiding something.
“Why would they give the serum to an omega?” Steve asked.
“Branching out?” Bucky shook his head. “Why do they do anything? They’re HYDRA. They can do whatever they want.”
“So you don’t remember anything about an omega super soldier?”
“I don’t know.” Bucky sniffed defensively.
“Buck, it’s okay if you do.” Steve growled. “We’re not going to judge you for anything you did. We just want to help her and figure out who she is—“
“Well I don’t know,” Bucky snapped, big fangs bared in a warning.
Steve responded with a low growl.
“There’s a lot I don’t remember, or did you forget how many times they wiped my memory?”
“Seems like you’re hiding something, Buck, and I wanna know what it is.”
“Why do you care? You should just drop it,” Bucky snarled.
Steve regarded him carefully. Oh yeah. He was definitely hiding something.
“Hey, hey,” Bruce interrupted from the kitchen, intent on stopping their fight before it could start. “Relax, fellas. Don’t make me get the big guy out to shut you both up.”
Steve backed down. The threat of having the Hulk going after him was enough. Bucky didn’t seem to share the sentiment, though, his lips still pulled back in a blatant display of aggression. It was the first time in a while that Steve had seen him acting so defensively about something, and it was concerning, to say the least.
“Buck,” he said, voice low with warning. “Are you hiding something?”
Bucky’s nostrils flared angrily and the insinuation that he was keeping secrets, but he managed to reign himself back in, stifling another growl with a loud sigh.
“I dunno, Steve.” He admitted. “There’s...a lot I don’t remember. If I’m bein’ honest with you, I’m not even sure why I’m feelin’ so worked up about this.”
Steve nodded. It was a relief to hear that Bucky wasn’t acting this way entirely on purpose, at least.
“You feel okay?” Steve asked. “Not rutting soon, are you?”
“I’m fine, Steve.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.” Bucky snorted. After a moment of silence, he spoke up again. “Is the omega, uh...is she okay?”
“Physically, she doesn’t seem to be too worse for wear,” Bruce said from the kitchen. “The only abnormalities I found in our preliminary blood tests were evidence of the suppressants and the serum. Other than being exhausted and needing to adjust to consciousness again after decades of cryo, she’s fine.”
“Good.” Bucky said, a little too quickly. “I mean...that’s good.”
“She should be awake again by tomorrow. Hopefully, she’ll be up for a longer chat then.”
“You comfortable talking with her?” Steve asked, looking at Bucky. “It might be good for her to see someone else who used to be connected to HYDRA. Might help her ease into everything.”
Bucky gave a nod, already distracted by thoughts of this omega. Was it possible that the girl he saw in his dreams was real? It was hard for him to know what had actually happened to him and what he had imagined, what with HYDRA wiping his memory whenever they felt like it. Ever since he had gained his mental freedom, though, he had been plagued with nightmares, his sleep always filled with the faces of people he had killed.
As time went on, they were getting better, but they never really stopped. He just...didn’t always have to deal with the worst ones. Sometimes, he even got to have dreams that were...nice. Sometimes, he dreamt of a familiar scent, one he couldn’t really place and that he could never remember when he woke up. Sometimes, he dreamt of an omega, with long, dark hair, and the prettiest eyes he could ever imagine. He always saw her in flashes, a smile here, a sigh there, and with no idea as to who she was or where she came from, he had chalked it up to his mind trying to give him some relief from the nightmares. It had to be wishful thinking, and nothing more.
Unless it wasn’t.
He spent a while chatting with Steve and Bruce before retreating to his apartment. With Tony and Pepper gone for the night, spending it in some fancy hotel so that Stark could give a talk at some expo, and most of the others resting after missions, the tower was quiet. It left Bucky too much time to wander and think, and before he knew it, he was making a detour down to Banner’s lab.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, he paused. What was he hoping to accomplish, exactly? He didn’t have the kind of clearance that Bruce did. He wouldn’t be able to sneak in, and even if he could, what would he do? Appearing at her bedside would just freak the poor omega out, and that wasn’t the kind of first impression he liked to leave these days.
He shook his head, pressing the button for his floor and leaning back against the elevator wall. He needed to be patient. Tomorrow, when she woke up, he would be able to see her for himself and decide if his weird dreams had any truth to them.
Not that he was getting his hopes up. He shouldn’t, after all. He would just set himself up for disappointment.
Just before the elevator doors slid shut, though, the tiniest, faintest hint of a scent wafted in, and Bucky’s eyes widened. He knew it. He knew that scent, or at least...he used to know it. Somewhere, in a part of his mind that he tried to forget about, he had memories of a peaceful, starry night sky, a hint of pine, and a touch of cinnamon.
Then, the doors closed, and it was gone again, leaving him confused as the elevator rushed upwards.
#alpha bucky barnes#alpha bucky#omegaverse#abo#it's been a long long time#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#winter solider x you#winter soldier smut#winter soldier x reader#avengers x reader#avengers x oc
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So I’ve got three AUs here with The Secret Generator 10 Trio, and I drew them all together because they are all connected based on the same idea. In these AUs, instead of receiving their powers from something, they are what their powers are. Basically, Zak is still Kur reborn, but was born a dragon who disguises himself as human, Rex is the Omega (His design is based off of my sentient Omega AU), and Ben is the Omnitrix who decide to become a living being, choosing a human body as his main form. I’ll go into a little more detail to explain each AU, and I hope you enjoy! If you have any questions about any of these AUs, don’t be shy to ask. 🧡 💙 💚 -Zur AU- In this world, Doc and Drew never had any biological kids, as Drew found she was unable to bare any. This did distraught the pair, as it had been one of their long life dreams, but they stayed strong and decided to focus on their work for a bit, deciding on future family stuff later. Eventually, they came across the Kur Stone with the rest of the secret scientists, and as the story goes Argost snatched it, and the secret scientists rushed into Weird World to retrieve it, losing many of their teammates in the progress. But things take an interesting turn when taking the stone back to base. You see, as the scientists were discussing what to do, now understanding what the stone really was, they all suddenly heard a faint crack...then another, then a few more, and before anyone knew what was happening, the Kur stone slip, breaking open into four pieces as a tiny, baby, serpent-like dragon crawled out. That’s when they realized that the stone was not a stone, but rather an egg, and putting two and two together, the group assumed that this was Kur’s child. Of course, they freaked out, not wanting something tied to the being said to desire to kill all humans to be wandering around the lab, but their panic caused the little infant dragon to panic too, and a chase sparked, with the little dragon rushing around the labs to hide and keep away from these strange people. The young dragon was confused, as it didn’t understand what was wrong, why these people seemed so scared, though one of these people did catch his eye, the woman with white hair. He had seen her first when hatching, and developed this strange attachment to Drew. She ended up being the one to corner the baby, who came up with a...odd idea somehow. Reaching deep within himself, he found the ability to shapeshift into a human form (Albeit with dragon like features), basing features off of Drew and Doc. This caught the two off guard, especially when seeing bits and pieces of themselves in this child. At first they thought he was trying to trick them, but when they started clinging to Drew, something sparked in the two, this need to protect this young one, who had clearly bonded to them so fast (Drew was quick to scoop them up and be ready to tell the other scientist to a back off). It was a longgggg discussion with the others, many having concerned and worries, but eventually it was agreed that they could not place Kur’s blame onto his offspring, as it was unfair, and since Drew and Doc handle cryptids for a living, it was best that they looked after him. So, they gave him the name Zak, and their little family began. Now, Zak is very well aware of what he is and who he is, and is very grateful for his parents for taking him in, despite what he was. The main plot of the series would most likely be the same, with a few differences, like people like the Nagas and Argost eventually thinking that Zak is Kur’s son too. But then the twist eventually comes in that Zak isn’t Kur’s son, he is Kur himself, just reborn like a phoenix. This leads into Zak’s anxiety crises about who he really is and what he could do, just like in season 2. Zak can also switch between his human form, and real dragon form, though he is able to summon parts of his dragon form, like wings or his tail, if that’s better to use at the moment. He’s quite the magpie too, often collecting ores, gems, jewelry and anything that catches his eye. His loves the outdoors quite a bit, and spends a lot of his time out in the woods or grass fields around his home, connecting with the local wildlife too. He’s also known to straight up hiss and growl, even in his human form. -Omega Rex AU- After the failures of the Alpha project, the crew on the nanite project eventually moved onto the Omega project, which was being lead by not only Caesar, but his parents as well this time. Based on Alpha’s designs, tweaking them quite a bit, they eventually made Omega, a much more friendly and kinder version of Alpha. Omega started off as mostly robotic, being tested on and merely hanging around the labs until needed for something. But like all of Caesar’s project, things started to change, and Omega started to become something more. It was little things at first, Omega asking little questions, curious about the world and people in it. Then Omega started mimicking people, copying human mannerism and even style of speech. People caught on quick, and become a little nervous, given Alpha was kind of the same when he started to change and eventually go rouge. They kept an eye on Omega, making sure nothing went down hill, but instead they went an opposite direction, taking a more wonder filled out look on life, wanting to know a lot about life and what it meant to be living. There were mixed responses to this, some telling Omega that they were just a robot and nothing more, others wanting to see where this would go. Omega seemed to follow three people the most, Caesar, Rylander and Van Kleiss, each peeking his interest in different ways, each one seeing and treating him differently. Caesar often regarded him as one of his great inventions, and was enjoying seeing where Omega was going, and how they were growing, and while there were moments that Caesar treated him a little more human they he would admit, he tried to keep it professional and just say Omega was a tool. Rylander was the kindness to Omega, and would be happy enough to answer their questions and let them understand life a little better, often thinking he saw a spark of a soul in Omega’s eyes from time to time. Van Kleiss was intrigued by Omega, especially when Omega seemed unphased by Van Kleiss’s off putting nature. Like Rylander, he was fine to answer him questions about the world and life, though his negative views on life due to past issues made things a little sad for Omega to hear, even trying to ‘comfort’ the man despite Van Kleiss telling him not too. Then, the nanite event happened. It all happened so fast, but that didn’t matter in the end as Omega awoke with no memories...not even their own name. Left wandering the world now being infested with EVOs, he eventually ran into the Hong Kong Gang one by one, where he started to developed a more teen like personality, and even got the name Rex from them. This made that desire to be something more, something alive, stronger, and that feeling stayed with them even after he left the group, lost his memories again, and got picked up by Six and Providence. At first, they had assumed he was an EVO, but once they realized he was something else, a living nanite it seems, they kept him around in hopes he could help, especially after seeing he could cure EVOs and talk to other nanites. Rex is very curious, and still mimics quite a bit, you often seen him copying gestures from Six and Holiday. Not in a mocking way, but more so like a little kid taking after the adults around him. He’s still learning a lot about being ‘human’ so he does stumble quite a bit, doing things like saying a phrasing wrong, not understanding latest trends, and sometimes forgetting the body limits of a normal human. -Omni-Ben AU- While Azmuth was alone, isolating himself in his work for the Omnitrix, he eventually managed to complete it. However, while he was having it do some test runs and look overs to make sure it was ready, he came to find that the AI may have been a little more advance than he was expecting, for the next thing he new, the Omnitrix shapeshifted into the form of a 13 year old human male. Of course, being highly confused, Azmuth questioned his creation, and the Omnitrix explained that, after looking through the DNA is had, seeing all the different speices in the galaxy and seeing how they live, how they work, they wanted to be like that too, wanted to be alive and real. They had picked a human as their man form as they enjoyed the idea of how humans grow, how individualized they are as a species. Azmuth thought about it, but finally agreed to let the Omnitrix try this out. For the next two years, still living in isolation, Omnitrix and Azmuth started up a simple life living together, Omnitrix even calling him father, which Azmuth was fine with and grew accustomed to. However, Azmuth never let Omnitrix out of the lab/base, for he feared what was out there that could try and use his creation for awful things, and with the Omnitrix alive and sentient, it made that fear worse. But, of course, things couldn’t stay the same forever, as one day Vilgax came knocking and demanded the Omnitrix. Azmuth was quick to tell his creation to flee, despite the Omnitrix’s hesitation. But, unable to deny orders from his father, the Omnitrix fleed as Vilgax followed after, taking Azmuth as his prisoner just in case. Needing somewhere to hide or run too, the Omnitrix thought back to some of Azmuth’s stories, recalling the tale about a human called Max Tennyson, who had once defeated Vilgax, and was well known by the Plumbers. Given the Omnitrix had a human form, and knowing Max’s history with the Plumbers and Vilgax, he decided to find him, making his way to earth and crashing there. He had been following Max’s Plumber signal (Which was in the rust bucket), and ended up being found by Gwen, who took him to Grandpa Max. After explaining his situation, Max agrees to help, and after some debate, Gwen could come too. The three begin to travel across the USA, going to old Plumber bases to collected needed weapons as Vilgax was on their tale, and looking for help in the matter. Needing to blend in with humans, Gwen helped Ben get an outfit that could hide him (Not quite the one up above), and used some make up along with an eye contact to cover up anything he couldn’t remove from himself, and eventually gave him the name Ben. Ben is quite...alien, for lack of a better term. Given he was isolated with Azmuth his entire life, there’s a lot he needs to learn and understand. He is quite smart and quick to pick up on things, but does stumble up in the moment. He’s found that the world outside it quite big, bigger than he realized, and now he’s experience so much, even new emotions he thought he never had, but...he does wanna see more of the world and what it has to offer.
#the secret saturdays#TSS#secret saturdays#zak saturday#the secret saturdays zak#Secret Saturdays Zak#Ben 10#B10#Ben 10 Ben Tennyson#Ben Tennyson#Generator Rex#GR#Gen Rex#Generator Rex Rex Salazar#Rex Salazar#The Secret Saturdays AU#Ben 10 AU#Generator Rex AU#Zur AU#Omega Rex AU#Omni-Ben AU#My Art
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Not One Of You Anymore: Part 28
Request: Yes / No
Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night
John Murphy x Fem! Griffin!Reader
Word count: 2086
Warnings: Getting robbed I suppose?
Y/N: Your Name
Summary: You weren’t meant to be born but you were so when you were ten your mom and the Chancellor sent you to the ground as a test for the 100
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Masterlist
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28
(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)
John and I packed some things and left to meet Jaha at the Dropship. John was determined to get us to the city of light. He wanted us to have a life without judgement. I was mostly curious to see if it’s real or just a rumor like everyone says it is. I thought about Lexa a lot during our trek. I understood why she left me in the mountain, but if she found out that I was weak and fell in love she would kill me.
“Sir, do you recognize anything?” One of the guys asked.
“The tent was near here. I’m sure of it.” Jaha answered and I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah right, it’s all just sand.” I mumbled and John sighed.
“What’s the matter? You guys got some place better to be?” John asked as he pulled me along.
“You have a point.” I sighed and he smirked. He stopped by Jaha and looked around.
“You see anyone?” He asked. Jaha walked towards the wagon.
“Bak op o ai na frag yu!” (Stay back or I’ll kill you!) A woman said and jumped up with a knife.
“We mean you no harm.” Jaha said and John held me behind him.
“Do you speak English?” Jaha asked.
“What do you want?” The girl asked.
“Nothing. It looks like you could use a hand. What are you doing out here along?” He asked and I looked around, something didn’t seem right.
“My brother and I were on our way to the City of Light… when Wastelanders attacked.” She said, removing her face mask.
“They took our horse. All our water, everything. They killed him. This cart is all I have left.” She answered.
“Give her some water.” Jaha said and John started taking his bag off.
“No, no, no. We barely have enough for ourselves here.” One of the men said.
“Touch me again and I’ll end you.” John threatened, but I held him back.
“I don’t trust her.” I whispered.
“You don’t trust anyone babe.” He said and pulled me along. John pulled his water bottle out and handed it to her.
“It’s okay.” He said and I kept my eyes narrowed at her. She took it and desperately drank it.
“We’re on our way to the City of Light as well. What’s your name?” Jaha asked and I looked at him with wide eyes.
“Emori.” She answered and I looked back at her.
“Everyone in the Dead Zone is looking for the City of Light. Almost no one finds it. I can get you there.” She said and that’s when I noticed her covered hand. She’s one of the freaks…
“If you pull my cart.” She added.
“Done.” Jaha said and I gripped John’s arm.
“We can’t trust her.” I whispered.
“Caspian, you’re on the first shift!” Jaha shouted.
“Then just trust me.” He whispered.
“Thanks for the water.” She said, handing the water back to him.
“It’s uh- It was no problem.” John said and I narrowed my eyes at her. All of us were walking through the Dead Zone, pulling Emori’s cart.
“So I gotta ask, what made you ditch your home and risk your life to cross the beach from hell?” John asked her. I was walking ahead of them because I didn’t want to be near her.
“It doesn’t matter.” She answered.
“Come on, take my mind off all the fun we’re having.” John said in his usual sarcastic tone, making me smirk slightly.
“It wasn’t my decision to leave.” She answered and I perked up slightly.
“Kicked out? Okay, now I’m interested. What did you do?” He asked.
“If I told you, you would not look at me the same.” She said.
“Maybe. Then again, I might surprise you.” He said and I glared slightly.
“What about you? How did you end up in the Dead Zone?” She asked him.
“I could tell you the gory details, but since you’re one of the few people on this planet who doesn’t hate me at the moment, I don’t think I wanna blow it.” He answered and I felt my heart break slightly.
“Now I’m interested.” She said with an obvious flirty tone.
“Okay, you really wanna know? I killed two people. Tried to kill two more. I had my reasons, but nobody cared. I’m the bad guy.” He said and I frowned.
“Told you I’d blow it.” He said after a moment. I looked back and saw she was showing him her hand. It was mutated.
“My people saw me as a stain in the bloodline, something to erase.
“Then screw them.” John said and I looked at him with a furrowed brow.
“I wouldn’t cover it up. I think it’s pretty badass.” He said and my eyes widened slightly.
“Ai don get in yu were won kom emo.” (I knew you were one of them.) I growled, walking up to them. Emori took out her knife and I took out one of my swords.
“Y/N! Stop!” John said and Emori’s eyes widened.
“Yu laik Heda’s ait meika?” (You’re the commander’s right hand?) she asked, still holding her knife to protect herself.
“Yu beda na stedaunon!” (You should be dead!) I growled and went to go attack her, but John stopped me.
“Calm down Y/N!” He said holding me close to him.
“Let me go John!” I growled.
“No, not until you tell me why the hell you’re attacking her.” He said.
“She’s one of those freaks! Heda said they die.” I said.
“You’re not with Lexa anymore. She left you to die, remember? She left you with Cage.” He said and I shuddered.
“Don’t you dare mention that name!” I said and shoved him away from me. I could feel tears well in my eyes as the memories that didn’t happen that long again resurfaced.
“Come here.” He said and pulled me to him, taking my sword from my hand and put it in its sheath.
“For Heda’s right hand, you’re weak.” Emori said and I glared at her.
“I’ll show you weak!” I shouted, just John pulled me back.
“She’s been through a lot recently.” He said and pulled me away.
“Don’t kill her, for me.” He said and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Why? So you can flirt with her more?” I spat.
“What? I wasn’t-”
“Save it.” I cut him off and walked off.
Now it was Jaha, John, Emori, and I pulling her damn cart. It was hot, and hard to pull the cart through the sand. I was still annoyed at John for flirting with her and then lying about it, so we weren’t speaking right now.
“Dei de’s far pleni!” (That’s far enough!) A man on a horse said, holding a large gun.
“Chancellor, look out!” The guards shouted and held their guns at the ready.
“Non gon mov!” (Nobody move!) He shouted.
“Hold your fire!” Jaha said and Emori grabbed John and held a knife to his throat.
“Wait!” John said as she pulled him along. I pulled my sword out and was ready to kill her and the asshole on the horse.
“Everybody, put your weapons and supplies in the cart and nobody gets hurt.” She said.
“Natrona! Heda was ait hashta bilaik kind!” (Traitor! The Commander was right about your kind!) I growled.
“En em looks like Heda was wrong hashta yu.” (And it looks like The Commander was wrong about you) She said with a smirk.
“If we give you our supplies, we’ll all die out here.” Jaha said.
“If you don’t you’ll die right here.” She said.
“Say the word and I’ll kill her before he could even think about pulling the trigger.” I growled.
“No, do as she says, now.” Jaha said. Everyone put their stuff in the cart but me.
“Dula op em don eni techin?” (Do they have any technology?) The man on the horse asked.
“Oso’ll dig au.” (We’ll find out.) She called back.
“How’s your faith holding up, Chancellor?” John asked.
“Shut up.” She said.
“Unwavering.” He answered.
“You don’t want to do this.” He said walking towards her and I rolled my eyes.
“Stop walking.” She said.
“We all came out here searching for a better life, same as you. Maybe we can find it, if we work together.” He said.
“She’s not to be trusted.” I growled.
“Shut up Y/N.” John said and I narrowed my eyes more.
“Thanks. But no.” She said.
“Emori, hos op!” (Emori, hurry up!) The man shouted.
“Now, Y/N put your stuff in the cart and everyone back away and get on your knees!” She shouted.
“Do as she says Y/N.” John said.
“Fine.” I growled and put my things in the cart and backed away with everyone else, also getting on my knees. She turned and put John on his knees as well.
“What a surprise, you’re just like everyone else.” He said. She whispered something in his ear and I glared at her.
“Good luck, John.” She said then knocked him out.
As soon as they left I rushed to John’s side. It was getting dark and we decided not to move until he woke up.
“John.” I whispered, trying to wake him once again.
“Come on John, we need to get going.” I whispered. John coughed and reached for his head.
“There, he’s up. It’s about time.” Caspian said.
“Quiet, Caspian.” Jaha said.
“Are you alright?” Jaha asked and I helped him stand up.
“If he’s not, we’re leaving him here. His little girlfriend too.” Caspian said and I glared at him.
“Say another word and I’ll kill you.” I growled.
“Easy Y/N, I’m okay.” He said.
“It’s time to go home.” Caspian said and Jaha looked at him.
“And where exactly is that?” He asked.
“Sir, I know you’re trying to take us to a better place, but look around. We’ve got no food, we’ve got no water, and no idea how to find it.” Caspian said.
“Due North.” John said and we looked at him confused.
“She said due North.” He added and I rolled my eyes.
“What is due North, John?” Jaha asked.
“She was talking about the City of Light.” He answered and I scoffed.
“Did she say that?” Caspian asked.
“No.” He answered.
“Doesn’t matter what she said, we can’t trust her!” I said.
“Did she say how far due North?” Jaha asked.
“No, she didn’t, but she wouldn’t be sending us there if we couldn’t make it.” He said.
“You honestly want to trust the bitch that just stole all our stuff?” I asked.
“Sir, I really hope you are not considering this.” Caspian said.
“John, we have no weapons and no rations. If we go North and you’re wrong, then all of us will die. If we turn back now, we live.” Jaha said.
“So that’s it? We’ve reached the point of no return? You wanna give up?” John asked.
“I didn’t say that.” Jaha said.
“You didn’t not say it either.” He said.
“That is the North Star.” Jaha said pointing up at the sky.
“After you.” He said and motioned for John to go first. John looked at me.
“You coming?” He asked and I sighed.
“You’re lucky I lo- I mean yeah.” I said and grabbed his arm, heading North. My cheeks were heating up as we walked away from the group.
“The rest of you need to decide for yourselves, but either way, we’ll come back for you when we find it.” Jaha said.
“Sir? This is a mistake! You’re not gonna find it! You’re not gonna make it!” Caspian shouted.
“So… What was that you were about to say?” John asked walking backwards in front of me with a smirk.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, obviously playing dumb.
“Really? Because I think you were about to say the L word.” He said, his smirk growing.
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” I said and he furrowed his brows.
“I believe this is what they call having faith, John.” Jaha said, catching up to us as we climbed the hill.
“Faith? Nah, we just have nothing better to do, right Y/N?” He asked me and I bit my lip.
“I suppose so.” I said and walked ahead of them. I can’t believe I almost told John I loved him! I could never say that to him, otherwise I would be weak and I will not be weak again.
Tag list: @theschuylersistersss @iamaunicorn4704 @riverdalehoeeeeeee @imaginehuntress @tiannawashere @teenwolfbitches2 @mockinghijack @genius2050 @hollandechart @somethingdawn @j-a-valls @moonstarsandsongs @rascal-20 @ginger-haired-queen @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @emo-godess-loves-you @now-imagine @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @vanessa-kom-skaikru
#The 100#the 100 imagine#the 100 season 2#john murphy#john murphy x reader#the 100 john murphy#john x fem!reader#john x reader#john x griffin!reader#john x fem!griffin!reader#john murphy x fem!reader#john murphy x griffin!reader#john murphy x fem!griffin!reader#clarke griffin x sister!reader#fanfic#not one of you anymore#part 28#Emori
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Prompt: The AI takeover has begone, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. “6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case , begin.”
3:00
I read the sentence again. I count the digits. 6,813,096,257.
2:57
I feel a gag coming up my throat. My body shivers. I send my hands to the screen in front of me, latching onto it to not lose control. My eyes are locked to the ground. If only for a glimpse of a second, I see myself standing atop of the corpses of those sacrificed before me.
2:53
I take a note from my pocket. It’s crumbled, the script is illegible - my hand shook when I put my words from pen to paper. Most of it was crossed. I try to read, but instead of speech my mouth babbles, and I feel tears running down my face and into my mouth.
2:40
“I can’t”
2:38. The note is down on the ground. I think I threw it. I’m not sure.
“I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t!”
2:34
I hold the screen and send my head forwards. It hurts. The screen cracks. “I can’t do this!”
2:29
I do it again. Glass shatters fall off of the screen when I pass my hand above it. The clock doesn’t stop. I sob.
2:21
I do it again. I see fresh blood faintly on the screen. My hand goes to the middle of my scalp. It’s warm. The clock goes on ticking.
2:10
My eyes run dry. I am finally able to talk. “I can’t. I’m not special. Please don’t do this to me.”
2:01
“I had a daughter. 8 years old. She told you about her friends. How great her music teacher is, how she forgives that one girl that is mean to her at recess, because that’s the only thing you let her do. She did not understand. I didn’t understand either.”
1:35
“And a wife. She gave up on words. She went to the living room and played cassettes. The stays at the beach, at the later hours, when it was quieter and you could hear the nature speak. Or whenever she tried to cook a new meal, she’d record our reactions. She’d save something like playing in a fort with our daughter, telling her fables and fairy tales to last. Maybe it was humanity for her, but I think she knew it wouldn’t work. She just wanted to say goodbye.”
0:57
I sit down. The world around me is mostly empty. “I had to bury them both. It was when I couldn’t write a eulogy for my wife that I stopped trying.”
0:43
I took back the note. They’re listening. I know it. For the first time since their deaths, I’m smiling.
0:40
“You always liked the small moments. Those we kept between us. I will miss having them with you. You made 3 minutes become worth of an eternity.”
0:22
“When I knew I’d want to be with you forever, until death does us apart, I never thought I’d beg for just 3 more minutes with you. I never thought the eternities you made would be eternities without you. I just wish I could’ve said-“
3:00
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I Have a Heart Condition, You Dick
Tony lets it slip to Steve that he has a heart condition.
Steve wants to make sure Tony is okay and not needlessly hurting, but Tony thinks Steve is babying him and thinks him incapable of taking care of himself. They talk it out.
On AO3.
Ships: none, could be interpreted as pre-slash Steve/Tony
Warnings: mentions of medical condition
~~~~~~~~~~~~
It started when Clint dropped out of a vent behind the obviously tired genius, who was waiting for a desperately needed cup of coffee, and said: “Boo.”
Tony jumped in the air as he startled violently and clutched his chest as he exclaimed: “Jesus fucking Christ, Birdbrain, you can’t do that! I have a heart condition, you dick!”
Steve had been enjoying his breakfast when the spectacle occurred and looked up in alarm as he asked: “You have a heart condition?”
“I have a heart condition? I have- are you fucking serious, Steve?” Tony ranted, “What do you think this is, a fancy night light?” he tapped his reactor harshly, then saw the faces of Steve and Clint, with a disbelieving voice he said: “Oh my God, you two didn’t know I have a heart condition.”
“That’s important information, you idiot. I could have killed you,” Clint sounded distressed.
“Blah, blah, it was mostly a hyperbole,” Tony waved his concerns away, “I thought it was in my file, granted I did delete a lot about the arc reactor, so maybe it was unclear. Hmm, that would explain why Agent threatened to tase me.”
“Tony, a heart condition is nothing to joke about,” Steve said, looking at Tony intently in the hope his message got across.
In turn Tony only rolled his eyes: “I am aware, Capsicle. Might surprise you, but I’ve actually been living with it for a few years, I know my limits and I’m not going to be a liability out there. Trust me, geez.”
“That’s not what I-”
“Spare me the lecture, Spangles,” Tony got his coffee and left the two there.
Steve looked at Clint and said: “I swear that’s not what I meant with that.”
“I could have killed him,” Clint merely repeated, still distressed.
“No, you couldn- well, maybe, but I don’t think so. Tony will need more than a small scare to take him out,” Steve assured him.
“How would you know?” it was obvious that Clint didn’t believe him.
“Because I used to have one, Clint,” Steve smirked, “A lot of people seemed to forget I was a little squirt from Brooklyn with a list of medical issues longer than army paperwork.”
Clint looked him up and down with distrust, before seeming to take his word for it. Though he did vow to be more careful around his favorite snark buddy and it seemed Steve had decided to do the same, because after that things were different.
Not bad different.
Not even obviously different.
Just different.
It was mostly Steve, though. Clint only started to announce himself when he entered a room Tony was already in and made sure not to scare the man too much.
Steve on the other hand researched foods that were good and bad for heart conditions and made sure to only cook with the good kind for Tony. He also remembered the unpleasant sensations of when his heart was beating too fast from before the serum and made sure Tony didn’t have to do anything too straining and checked in on him during battle. On top of that he started to nag Tony, that was not what Steve called it of course, Steve called it making sure he didn’t overwork himself and died of stress, but same difference.
And Tony noticed.
Of course, he did he wasn’t stupid. He was the opposite of stupid, actually. Though it did take him a while to add it all up.
It had started with a sandwich, which doesn’t sound that dramatic and it wasn’t either, honestly. Just one day, Steve knocked on his shop’s window and held up a plate. He’d done this before of course, but this particular sandwhich would be the start of getting Tony to eat regularly.
Tony had been down there for nearly three full days, living off granola bars, smoothies and coffee, so he merely appreciated the food as he waved Steve in. Snatching the sandwich up, he asked: “What brings you here, Cap?”
“Nothing much,” Steve shrugged, “Just hadn’t seen you in a while, figured you’d be neglecting to eat down here.”
“All I’m hearing is blah blah blah, Stevie,” Tony grinned, there was usually a lecture attached to food offerings, which he allowed because food, “You’ll be talking differently when you see these fire resistant suits I’m making for the squishy members.”
“Fire resistant?” Steve questioned.
Tony lit up: “See, I knew you’d see my wa-”
“Is that safe?” Steve ruined it.
“Is it- He asks if it’s safe. I’m making it, of course it’ll be safe,” Tony said indignantly.
“No, that’s not- I trust your engineering skills, just not your self preservation,” Steve clarified, “How are testing it? Is that safe?”
Tony blinked a few times, not expecting that response. No one had really cared how safe he was before, if he got the results.Then he laughed and deflected: “Steve, Stevie, Capsicle, Star Spangled Man With A Plan, I’m never safe,” Steve looked like he was about to interrupt, “But – and the buts make it important – but I am also never stupid.”
He was well aware that that was a lie and JARVIS had many tapes to prove it, but Steve didn’t have to know that.
“Are you sure?” Steve checked.
“Yeah, Cap, sure,” Tony assured him, “I’ll be as safe as humanly possible.”
“That sounds fake,” Steve eyed him suspiciously.
“And that is your cue to go, thanks for the food,” Tony shoved him out the workshop with a small wave, leaving him stunned for a second, “JARVIS, lock down, don’t let Mr. Health & Safety back in here.”
“Sir, do you think that is wise?”
“I do think that, I also think that a community college would be happy to have you, buddy,” Tony snarked.
“Tony. Tony,” Steve tapped on the glass when Tony didn’t respond, “Stark.”
“What?”
“Don’t do anything too stupid. And rest.”
“Whatever, Mom,” Tony rolled his eyes and got back to work.
It was little things like that which started to add up. They had already been happening, since Steve was unable to let anyone ruin their health in peace, but now their frequency increased.
Then it happened more overtly during battle, Tony had lost his suit and was running down a street, hoping to not get eaten by mutant rats, which was just iew.
His breathing was coming kind of ragged and it was uncomfortable, but he was managing. He still had a gauntlet and determination since he wasn’t going to admit to anyone that he’d been practically useless by some rats.
“Iron Man, status update,” Steve’s voice crackled over the coms.
“Down- Town- Chased-” Tony heaved, firing his repulsors, “No- Suit- Got- Three- Here- Handling- handling it.”
“Thor, get Iron Man out of there,” Steve ordered.
Tony wanted to protest, but he was too out of breath to do so and a small guilty part of him was glad the God of Thunder was coming his way, because- fuck.
He was nearly being chowed down by a rat when Thor appeared and came down with a mighty swing that decapitated the rat. Tony weakly raised a hand and wheezed: “Thanks, Thunderstruck.”
“No problem, Shieldbrother Stark. Are you alright?” Thor bellowed, dealing with the leftover rats in the alleyway.
“I- I’m fine,” Tony said.
Steve injected over the coms: “Get him to a high place out of the fight, Thor. Then head to the Hulk.”
“Aye, Captain,” Thor said, cutting off Tony’s protest of how he was still able to fight as he dropped Tony on top of a building before flying off.
“I know you’re still able to fight, Tony,” Steve sounded tired, “It’s just not a smart idea and we have it handled. Get started on prep for clean up in you want to help.”
Tony grumbled something, but didn’t comment further. He wasn’t in the mood to pick a fight right now and overall fighting didn’t sound very appealing. Steve wouldn’t lie about needing him and he’d done quite enough today.
It was only after that that Tony began to suspect something was up.
He first realized the visits to make sure he rested and ate had become more common. Then, when Steve asked about his schedule, he realized that had become a thing lately, before he noticed the food and added it to the most recent check up in battle.
Steve was babying him.
Once he had made that conclusion, he started to rewind to when it started to see what on earth he had said to make the other man think he was incapable of handling himself. It hit him when he went to grab some coffee and saw that Steve had left a bag decaf for him last time he was here.
“That motherfucker,” Tony said.
“Sir, I do not th-”
“Mute,” Tony didn’t want to listen to that right now. He had confessed a small weakness once and immediately Steve had jumped on it to treat him like less, he didn’t want to hear excuses for him, least of all from his own AI, his JARVIS.
He let the anger built up, he usually wasn’t one for not poking someone’s buttons when they had pissed him off, but he was smart enough to realize that a big fight between them would be bad for the team.
Because no matter how he spun it, they both kept everyone alive through communicating. Tony could see what needed to be done and Steve could strategatize a plan on the fly that completed that goal.
They needed to work together.
Naturally when Tony was pissed at someone, he didn’t want to communicatewith them, which was a minor detail he had forgotten in his grand master plan of ignoring.
His anger only grew each time he blocked Steve entrance from his workshop, denied his requests for his schedule or sparring or when the man wanted to know how he was doing. JARVIS wasn’t any help either and after too many times of trying to talk to him, Tony had ordered him to stop talking about Steve or his health for that matter.
When after two weeks of ignoring everyone – including his own body – the call to assemble went off, Tony suited up, despite the tension. He wasn’t letting New York be in peril when he could stop it, just because Steve thought he was too weak.
Steve would eat his words, or his motherhenning in this case. Tony wasn’t fragile, nor did he need special treatment.
The battle with the squid-robot-type creatures could be described as a proper disaster.
If Steve said go right, Tony would go left. If asked for imput, Tony would just do what he calculated to be right without saying a thing. If someone talked, Tony blasted music.
Sure, his moves worked and if anyone needed air support, he would show up out of nowhere, but he was being unnecessarily reckless.
He didn’t stay when the battle was over, just shooting off to the Tower on his own, giving everyone the cold shoulder. They walked into the Quinjet as Clint frowned: “What did we even do? Did any of you piss him off?”
“No, he just started shutting me out two weeks ago,” Steve said miserably, “From one day to the next I wasn’t allowed into the ‘shop anymore, I have no clue what I did. I didn’t even think it was this bad until now.”
“Well, you better go talk it out, Captain,” Natasha said, “Because that was a disaster.”
Steve sighed: “I will, but let’s just direct clean up for now. Everyone, you did good, let’s get some rest, alright?”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Clint saluted lazily from where he had collapsed onto the Quinjet pilot seat in exhaustion.
Tony naturally avoided all attempts at communication again afterwards, until it came to a head. Steve had ben asking permission to enter the workshop for the past few days, never yielding any success, so he was trying a different method: “Tony, please come out of the ‘shop, I made food. Just come and eat something.”
“JARVIS why am I hearing Captain America in my workshop?” Tony asked icely.
“You stated – and I quote – “I do not wish to see Captain America or anyone unless the world is ending and they’re all on the brink of death” end quote. There was nothing about hearing, Sir,” he replied.
“J, remind me to donate you to the local High School,” Tony huffed.
“Noted, Sir,” JARVIS said, “Though I would advise to take up Steve’s offer on food. You have been here for 71 hours Sir and have not eaten in 21.”
“Blah, blah, I’m sure I have an energy bar somewhere around here,” Tony waved him away, “If I eat that, will you leave me alone?”
“I would, Sir, however, your emergency supplies have run out,” the AI informed him.
Tony cursed, he was kind of hungry now that JARVIS had mentioned it, but he didn’t want to admit weakness and eat Steve’s food.
In the end hunger won out and Tony mopily made his way to the kitchen.
It seemed like the whole team was there, each as surprised as him that he actually heeded their call for food. Tony would never admit it, but the loneliness had been setting in and getting yelled at and belittled sounded better than being by himself. He’d realized that the moment he’d heard Steve’s voice.
Steve smiled and handed him the plate: “Tony!” the smile faded when he took in the engineer’s state, but Tony ignored that in favor of taking the plate.
It was fish with veggies and nuts.
Health food.
Helps-gainst-a-heart-condition-food.
Fuck this.
Tony snapped, he was tired and hungry and had been beating himself up for weeks for allowing himself to show weakness, knowing what could happen. And now here it was, being shoved in his face yet again.
He just didn’t have the energy for this.
“What the fuck is this supposed to mean?” he demanded angrily.
Steve frowned: “I don’t understand.”
“Oh sure, play dumb, Captain Perfect,” Tony spat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tony,” Steve sounded frustrated, “Talk to me about what’s bothering you.”
“Like you’re not perfectly aware of that.”
The rest of the team was watching the argument like a tennis match, no one daring to interrupt the two, but all wanting to know how it ended.
“I am not aware of it, okay,” Steve threw his hands up, “I try to help and all I get is this attitude back. What am I doing wrong?”
“The healthy food, the constant checking up during missions, the benching me during straining stuff, the forcing me to sleep, you knew my goddamn schedule at some point, Rogers,” Tony told him, “I don’t need to be babied, I don’t need your coddling. I tell you one thing – just one – and you jump on it immediately. So, shove off, Mr. Pinnacle of Human Perfection or whatever. Just for once believe that I know what I’m fucking doing.”
Steve connected the dots to Clint scaring Tony all those months ago and sighed. Of course Tony would think that Steve was smothering him unnecessarily.
“Tony, I’m not babying you,” he started, “That was at least not my intention, I just wanted to keep you alive for as long as possible.”
“Because you think I can’t do that on my own,” Tony filled in the nonexistant blank, “Newsflash, I’ve been keeping myself for a long time already.”
“I don’t think you’re incapable, goddammit Tony, just fucking listen to me,” Steve yelled, everyone shocked by the cursing, “I care about you, you’re my teammate, the closest thing to family I have left. I just don’t want you to suffer needlessly, okay. I know how much it sucks and if I can help in the little ways, you can bet your ass that I will.”
Tony opened and closed his mouth while thinking of an answer. People caring for him was a bit new and he didn’t know how to accept that at face value, so instead he grumbled: “How would you even know it sucks.”
Steve smiled, he knew Tony wasn’t trying to be difficult, then answered: “I know for everyone else it is a long while ago, but from my perspective I was running around with countless health problems, including a heart condition, just a few years ago.”
“Oh…” Tony said, remembering the file he’d read on Steve, how stupid to let that slip his mind, “I- uhm, well, I guess that can be a reason.”
“Drop it in the hat of forgive and forget?” Steve held out his hand for Tony to shake.
He shook the hand and shrugged: “Might as well,” he was just glad he hadn’t fucked this up, that they didn’t think him weak.
“I for one am glad mom and dad made up,” Clint commented, finally breaking the silence the rest of the team had held while Steve and Tony made up.
“For that comment, you’re grounded, young man,” Tony said with an eyeroll.
“Resent that statement,” Clint shot back, “Especially coming from someone who’s swaying with hunger and exhaustion. Just eat your damn food and take a nap, Stark, then you can talk about grounding.”
Tony just flipped him the bird as he attacked his food with vigor while the rest started up all sorts of conversations around him.
Later he would get lectured anyway about not taking care of himself, but afterwards he would get pulled into a hug and maybe the next time Steve bothered him with food or sleeping a bit. Well, maybe it wouldn’t be that much of a bother anyway.
~~~~~~~~
DISCLAIMER:
God, I am not a medical person, please for the love of God and everything that is Holy to you: DO NOT and I repeat, DO NOT take anything in this fic as a fact without checking.
#RR writing#MCU#Marvel#Avengers#2012 Avengers#with AA and EMH spice#Tony Stark#Iron Man#Steve Rogers#Captain America#Steve & Tony#Iron Man & Captain America#Arc Reactor
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Bud I’m sorry to swing into your inbox uninvited like this but my soul is having an OOTS renaissance thanks to your content in the tag and did you say Leverage AU
haha holy SHIT this got Long. but yes. i’ve been. Thinking. (also literally Never feel like you have to apologize for sending me messages. i was Hoping someone would ask me about this. now i have an Excuse to share EVERYTHING ive written abt it :3)
Obviously, Roy is the leader/brains of the outfit. He grew up having some Strong Opinions abt what’s Legal versus what’s Right due to tragic backstory involving the death of his little brother which was definitely SOMEONE’S fault for negligence but since there technically wasn’t any illegal behavior, there were no consequences for it. Also he’s still angry at his dad bc he thinks his dad is also partly culpable (and also also just a dick). He’s the Moral Backbone of the team (alongside Durkon, more on that later) in basically the same way Nate was in og Leverage. He’s actually not the best at figuring out what people want (that’s Haley and, shockingly, occasionally Elan), but once he has that info, he is the absolute best at figuring out the ideal plan of attack to use in any given case.
Haley is still a thief. I mean she maps to Parker almost PERFECTLY. Her dad was a thief & a conman, her mom wasn’t but knew about it and mostly accepted it, but she died tragically in a mugging gone wrong or smth, which made Ian crank the paranoia WAY up and taught Haley to do the same in the name of “safety”. Let’s keep the “Ian is in Trouble and Haley needs money, Fast” which is why she signs on to the first job in the first place. She’s less acrobatic than Parker, tending towards finding (or making) weak spots in security, but she can still make a tumble check when she needs to.
Elan is the grifter who is somehow an Idiot but also not???? It baffles everyone. When he’s playing a part for a con, he’s FLAWLESS, but then the rest of the time he’s just. No Thoughts Head Empty. He probably gets lured in initially because he’s decided to try his hand at being part of a full team, rather than the two-man cons he’s been running that invariably end w his partner conning him as well and stealing half of his take. Also he likes the idea of being Crime Friends. He’s that tweet where it’s like, Roy: “after the heist is over, we split up and never communicate again” / Elan: [about to unveil his Crime Buddies Forever Friendship Quilt Puppets]: “never?”
Vaarsuvius is the hacker/gadget person. They have a Vaguely Snobby Yet Unidentifiable accent, dyed(?) purple hair (nobody has ever seen their roots) and nobody knows who they “really” are or where they came from, but they’re good at what they do so everyone just accepts the mystery. They probably got suckered into the team by their initial employer (who I’ll get to Eventually, lol) framing it as a challenge to their intellect, like, “oh, I see, you’re not smart enough to make this team work for you...” to which they were like Fucking Watch Me and also melted his computer. Anyways. They are joined (digitally) by their Intrepid Friend And Co-Conspirator (his words, not theirs), a fellow hacker known only as Blackwing, or, on certain forums, Blackwing_Bird. (In the first season, V only occasionally references him when saying they’re “calling in extra help” or smth for a particularly complex hack job. He starts showing up a little more in s2 and eventually by the start of s4 is a regular & established presence, but only appears as actions in a computer interface or output.) Elan is convinced he’s an AI, Belkar doesn’t think he actually exists, Haley pretends she doesn’t think he exists, and Durkon and Roy try not to think about it too hard, as long as B and V still get the job done.
Belkar is the hitter. He is on the team bc their initial employer got him out of jail for it. He doesn’t have a tragic backstory, he just likes doing violent crimes. As the series progresses, he grows some empathy & stuff, but really only for people who actually deserve it. Assholes still get decked. It’s all very touching. (Also he has dwarfism caused by achondroplasia. It doesn’t actually bother him and is useful in fights bc his opponents frequently have no fucking clue how to approach him, but he likes Pretending to take offense at stupid things just to see how far he can go with it.)
Aaaand last but not least, Durkon is the least involved member of the team. He’s actually a career criminal and Roy’s mentor, and wasn’t a member of the initial team that [redacted, I’ll tell you later, PROMISE] put together for a couple of reasons, the main one being that he’s Officially retired in order to spend more time with his family, which consists of his mom, his friend (not girlfriend) Hilgya, baby Kudzu, and a truly stunning number of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Roy frequently calls or visits him for advice and he Occasionally shows up to help out on local jobs, but generally he avoids doing crime if he can (as part of a deal with Hilgya, who is also a career criminal; basically, they’ve both cut back on the crime in order to provide a more stable home environment for Kudzu. But sometimes, you gotta do a little crime, and in those cases, Sigdi enjoys spending time w her grandson.)
NOW. THE BIG REVEAL YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR. Who got the team together in the first place?!
The answer: Lord Shojo (or whatever Normal Person Name you want to assign him). Now this is where it gets tricky: he had them do a thing that they thought was good, THEN they thought it was BAD, but then when they confronted him he revealed that it Appearing to be bad was actually a test of character and would they consider working as basically internal investigators for him? But then he had a heart attack, so, rip. But THEN it turned out that he’d left them a bunch of money anyway and they were all feeling kind of Inspired so they formed the Order of the Stick, LLC (which, no, i am not coming up with a new name, actually, because I just don’t care. someone else can come up w a justification for that name, tho, i’m sure it’s possible). Also Miko was there and was unhappy abt their actions, and also their general existence.
Moving on. Villains!
Redcloak is the Sterling replacement, because that DEEPLY amuses me.
Xykon is a season-long main villain, probably one that Redcloak finds himself working for but then “teams up with” (read: blackmails) the Order to bring him down bc even Redcloak finds Xykon distasteful. That’s season 3, let’s say.
Tarquin is another season villain, say season 2. Nale probably shows up pretty early in s1, actually, as another recurring antagonist like Sterling but uh. Less good at it. Anyways the s2 final 3 eps deal with them (accidentally) discovering that Tarquin runs some Evil Empire Company, then trying to outplay him and take him down. Idk if Nale still dies in this version tbh.
Tsukiko is a one-off s1 villain who returns briefly in s4 alongside Miko, who has gone well and truly off the rails.
Season 1 finale has to do w Roy finally getting Vengeance for his little brother.
The vampire squad is the s4 finale villain who do smth terrible to Durkon and then get the Mother Of All Revenge served up to them by the Order.
I envision the show as being 5 seasons (like og Leverage) but I’m not going to sketch out s5 because I think it should be based off whatever happens in the current story arc, possibly involving some legacy of the OotSquiggle.
Other stuff!
The Order of the Squiggle is a legendary criminal team from the 60s who stole a BUNCH of famous shit & then proceeded to legendarily implode. This has no bearing on the plot I’ve sketched out, I just think it’s fun.
The Sapphire Guard members should probably be reworked as FBI. I don’t care about most of them but I do think that Lien and O-Chul could be like, FBI agents who Choose to look the other way while the Order does their very-much-not-legal-but-still-fair Justice Crime, and maybe even help them out on occasion.
So, the Final season-by-season outline, based on everything I’ve written so far:
s1 e1: getting the team together, doing a con for Shojo, then at the end he dies and the gang is like “dang what now?" and intend to split up except then they Don’t.
mid-s1: Nale shows up and tries to trick the Order, but then gets beat like a drum.
late s1: Tsukiko is an underling of the Villain Of The Week, winds up in police custody. But She’ll Be Back.
s1 finale: Roy’s Vengeance: The Vengeaning. also we meet Redcloak as an antagonist.
s2 e1: the truth abt Haley’s father comes out
early s2: The Two Live Crews Job but it’s the Order vs the Linear Guild and the Linear Guild ARE all bad guys.
mid-s2: Redcloak returns. ugh.
late s2: the sapphire guard FBI makes its first appearance, hello O-Chul and Lien.
s2 pre-finale: once again they’re in conflict w Nale over smth, he spends the whole episodes making Cryptic Remarks, they basically beat him (like a drum!) but then the stinger at the end is that Tarquin reveals himself and Elan is like “Dad?!”, roll credits.
s2 finale, part 1: Elan is hanging out w Tarquin bc he’s DEEP in Denial, the Rest of the team tries to take Tarquin down, but it doesn’t work.
s2 finale, part 2: Elan finally gets a clue and they manage to beat Tarquin. still haven’t decided if Nale dies or not, but I’m leaning towards yes. also they rescue Haley’s dad.
s3 e1: fuck dude idk.
early s3: Redcloak shows up, AGAIN, everyone groans. he has blackmail on them, he wants them to take Xykon down.
mid s3: The Rashomon Job but it’s about stealing the Talisman of Dorukan and it turns out that Nale was there too (“oh!” Elan says. “I was wondering why I looked so weird in all those mirrors! But it wasn’t my reflection, it was Nale’s!” “Sweetie, that wasn’t Nale’s reflection,” says Haley. “Huh,” says Elan, “so the mirrors were broken?”, cue eye rolling from everyone else.), and the Successful thief was Hilgya, who’d nabbed it from the owner before it even went on display.
s3 finale: they beat Xykon, actually factually, because he deserves to get his ass Thoroughly kicked, even if only in AU form. Lien and O-Chul are there, so are some other less helpful FBI people. There’s a bit where O-Chul Exact Wordses his way out of telling his superiors about the Order’s less legal activities without technically lying. King shit.
s4 e1: doesn’t really matter. maybe smth to do w some legacy of Tarquin’s company to set up the drama w Malack & Durkon later.
early s4: Durkon gets SENT TO PRISON. Malack approaches the Order abt this because sure they have Different Ethics but they’re still Friends. (Roy is surprised and a little hurt that he’s never heard of Malack, but he ignores that in favor of Let’s Get Whatever Fuckers Did This To Our Friend.)
immediately after that: Miko and Tsukiko return as a Team, preventing the Order from working on the Durkon situation
mid s4: Redcloak makes another unexpected & unwelcome appearance but he’s maybe a little less of a dick? the Order collaborates with Malack & his Crime Buddies (hello, Vector Legion) to pull one over on him tho, because “less of a dick” does not mean “a pleasant or decent person”, and also he was mean abt Durkon being in jail, so he totally deserved it. he still gets whatever he wanted tho, just takes a blow to his pride. also prevents the Order from helping Durkon. they’re having a LOT of setbacks wonder why that could be, not to make sure the season fills its whole length or anything, no sirree
s4 finale: something something taking down the organization, headed by Hel (yes that’s her real name), which framed Durkon for their Big Crime. Durkon goes free and Extra Firmly retires, For Good, He Swears, but says he “met someone new” who might be an asset.
s5 e1: minrah joins the team! and the episode is set in like, somewhere really snowy. that’s all i got.
the rest of s5: don’t know, don’t care, it’s open-ended until the comic finishes up.
#mine#ask#corvidcorgi#order of the stick#oots#leverage#leverage au#oots au#au#outline#haha this thing clocks in at 1.9k words because i am LITERALLY incapable of shutting up#hope u enjoy it bc i spent Way Too Much Mental Effort mapping out how the OotS plotlines might play out in a leverage setting#and then promptly ignored Most of that in favor of making it funnier & dumber & more villain-of-the-week#(bc lbr the comic is Good but it's got an overarching plot form that the Leverage story style does Not jive with)#i'm not tagging all these characters lol
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Made For It
Exchange fic for the 2020 Marvel Holidays Secret Santa, hosted by @iloveyou3thousand
My recip was livvibee - Fingers crossed this works for you! I took your ‘anything goes’ and... went with it. Hopefully in a direction that you’re okay with!
Made For It
Word Count: 8100
Summary: Tony has never had the patience to deal with alphas. Too bad that his son just presented as one. But there's no way Tony is ever going to let Peter know how upsetting that is; his kid is still mostly perfect.
It is too bad, right?
(ABO, peter’s 15, also is tony’s bio child, heats/ruts, knotting, dirty talk, referencing mpreg, very dead dove, please heed the warnings)
Link to AO3 at the end
*
Tony has never had the patience to deal with alphas.
Honestly, he just can’t stand them. Always acting like they know best, don’t worry your pretty little omega head about it. Pushing their way into everything, trying to take over and dismiss Tony as unessential for anything of actual importance.
Fuck them. Just because Tony’s an omega doesn’t mean he can just be handled like that, doesn’t mean he’s going to put up with it. Being an omega doesn’t mean he wants to be under someone’s thumb like that, and is sure as hell doesn’t mean he needs an alpha.
There isn’t an alpha out there that actually knows what’s best for him.
Even for Peter— sure, he’d needed an alpha’s sperm for his kid, but he had the resources to go for artificial insemination. The take rate for male omegas is awful, but Tony’s never relied on luck. He has JARVIS.
Is it strange to have his AI pick out the best possible candidate for Tony’s baby? Maybe. Is it invasive for JARVIS to consider any alpha, whether or not they’ve actually donated? Probably, but the winner had been more than happy enough to provide a sample once Tony had thrown enough money at him, and Tony hadn’t even had to meet him. Had even been willing to sign away all their rights as a mate and a parent for a little extra.
Does it result in Tony taking on the very first try? Absolutely, and that makes it worth every single penny. Because he gets Peter out of it, gets his wonder, perfect kid. Smart and sweet and stubborn (you take after me so much, Tony’s started telling him when they fight, and it generally makes them both grin). Tony couldn’t ask for a better kid in any way, and he loves Peter more than anything in the world.
And then Peter turns fifteen; presents a few months later, earlier than most of his yearmates.
As an alpha.
The first Tony knows of it is when he comes home and smelled… something off. Something viscerally wrong, disgusting. Something that only got worse when he went into the living room and found Peter hunched over on the couch, a little ball of misery.
“Peter?” Tony says. He’s still supposed to be in school and Tony doesn’t think he got a call about Peter being sent home. “What’s wrong?”
Peter looks up, red eyed, upset. “I’m sorry,” he says, offering up a piece of paper. “I— it happened at school and the nurse ran the test and it’s— I’m—”
Tony doesn’t need him to say it; he knows what the red header on the test results means. Knows what that smell is now, knows why he feels on edge in his own home. Peter’s an alpha. Peter’s—
Peter’s shaking. “Dad,” he says, “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to! I don’t want to be an alpha! I’m sorry!” He bursts into tears and fuck, it doesn’t matter how awful Peter smells now, Tony can’t just let his baby cry all alone like that.
“Oh kiddo, no,” Tony says, kneeling inf ront of Peter and grabbing his hands. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“But you hate alphas!” Peter wails. “You hate them so much and now I’m one and— I’m sorry, please Dad, I’m so sorry.”
Fuck, fuck. “I don’t hate you, sweetheart. I could never hate you.” He tugs Peter closer, Peter clinging, sobbing against his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, I know that. I know you didn’t want this, but… it’ll be okay in the end, I promise. You’re going to be okay.”
*
It’s rough at first.
After Peter gets through the first stage of his presentation, his scent settles. Grows, into that thick, bitter, sweet scent that clings to the back of Tony’s tongue. It’s awful, and Tony can’t escape it; it’s everywhere in the house, and all over Peter, over everything he touches.
Peter can’t help it. He knows this, and he’s not going to make his son take blockers just because Tony has a— a thing about alphas. He’ll get used to it. He’d told Peter it wasn’t his fault and it’d be okay, and he’s going to do his damndest to make Peter believe it.
He’s never going to let Peter know how unpleasant it’s become to even be in the same room as him, much less it next to him, or to hug him and kiss his forehead and treat him just like Tony always has, because Peter is taking this badly. He’s distressingly fragile about this, and Tony’s worried. It’s his own fault, with the way he’s talked about alphas all of Peter’s life, but he’d never thought— well, it doesn’t matter now. He’s just got to try and fix some of the damage he’s done.
It’s not Peter’s fault he’s not quite so perfect anymore.
So, it’s rough at first, but slowly, things ease. Slowly, Peter’s first rush of scent dies down, mellowing into something not quite as awful. Starts to take the influence of Tony’s, softening a little, becoming more familiar. Not nearly as comfortable to be around as he used to be, but still something Tony finds easier to tolerate.
Slowly, Peter becomes more comfortable with his secondary gender, and Tony— Tony works hard not to think of Peter like that. To not apply those stereotypes—are they, Tony wonders, if they’ve been born out every time he’s dealt with an alpha—to Peter. He loves Peter, and he’s never going to stop loving Peter, no matter he’s become.
And then Tony has a heat.
Tony doesn’t even think about it; it’s never been a problem before. When Peter was younger, Tony would send him for a long weekend at Uncle Rhodey’s and grit his teeth and suffer through it. Sometimes he broke, when the heat aids weren’t enough and he was so desperate he couldn’t stand it. Would hire a heat companion, the lowest rated alpha they could find, one willing to shut up and take orders.
The need quiets as he gets older, thank god, and it got to the point where he could nearly ignore them. Could just spend a few hours knotting himself once Peter had gone to bed and keep going the rest of the time. Maybe a little more irritable, a little tired, a little achy, but just fine, and Peter knew by then you just be a little more forgiving for those few days. A little kinder, even.
Had actually been really good about it the last few years. Been cute, actually; had put on Tony’s favorite shows, had tried to cook things Tony especially liked (or order things he did, when the cooking failed spectacularly a few times. He definitely got that from Tony.), had practically bullied him into using the jacuzzi when Tony complained too much once about hurting all over and getting old. Had just… attempted to pamper him a little bit, adorably.
Tony won’t lie; he’s never let an alpha do that for him. He hadn’t wanted to give them ideas. But it’s always been fine for Peter to do it, and it’s been a little comforting. Peter’s just a good kid.
But this time—
This time, his heat hits him harder than usual, all the aches and pains and itchy, burning want that he’d thought he’d mostly left behind. This time, when Peter came home from school, Tony knew without seeing him, hearing him. He knew, because the second Peter walked in—
He didn’t smell terrible anymore.
Fuck, he smelled good, so good, insansely good. The best thing Tony’s ever smelled, and that base part of his brain wants to just bask in it, cover himself in it. Tony freezes in the doorway of the kitchen; he doesn’t even remember getting here.
He stares at Peter and Peter stares right back, eyes wide and darkening, his scent rising in response to a heat.
Tony swallows, hard. “Peter,” he says. “I think you should go spend a couple days at Ned’s. Or Rhodey’s, or— or even Nat. Just. Not here.”
Peter blinks at him, slowly. “I don’t have to,” he says.
Yes, yes he does. “I want you to,” Tony says, and he knows it’s going to hurt Peter; there it is, that little flinch. Anything he can do to get Peter out of the house is going to be worth it, though, because this— this is not supposed to happen. His body is not supposed to recognize his fucking son as a good potential mate.
“Are you sure?” Peter asks, stepping forward, and Tony shudders, his scent deepening, spreading. Suffocating.
“Please,” Tony croaks, and Peter nods. Practically flees, and Tony has the horrible realization that Peter might have felt something of the same.
It’s not a good heat.
*
Things get a little awkward.
They avoid talking about it, completely, but… well. Tony isn’t going to stop having heats, after all. And Peter— Peter is stubborn. So stubborn, like Tony doesn’t know where he got it from, like Tony hasn’t encouraged it.
Peter loves him and hates to see him hurting. So the next time, when Tony tells him to go— Peter squares his shoulders and says no.
“Last time,” Peter says, “I came home and you’d barely eaten. You slept for almost the whole day after and you looked awful and you smelled—” he stumbles to a halt, blushes. “You smelled wrong,” he says after a deep breath. “Like you were sick. It— it scared me, Dad. I don’t want to leave you alone like that.”
“I don’t have to be alone,” Tony says. “I can— I can hire a companion.”
Peter frowns, staring down at the floor. Crosses his arms. “You’d hate that,” he says, very small.
Yeah, Tony would. Has, in the past. It’s better than the alternative though.
“Please,” Peter says.
“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea, kiddo,” is the most he can manage without— without saying something heading into dangerous ground.
“It’s not a problem for most people,” Peter mutters, and Tony doesn’t want to be the one to point out that apparently, they aren’t most people.
He caves.
It’s an even rougher heat. Oh sure, this time he doesn’t spend the entire time curled up in bed, frantically fucking himself with the largest knot he has and still feeling empty and desperate and abandoned, barely dragging himself to eat or clean up a few times, feeling sick, feverish, the whole time. And Peter’s downright annoying about attempting to take care of him, bringing him food and pestering him about not hiding away the whole time and making Tony take care of himself some more, even if it’s mostly to avoid the shame of Peter seeing him like this.
But it’s torture, having Peter in the house. It’s torture, having what his brain seems to think is the perfect mate right there and not available, not doing anything. Having to tell himself over and over, in the worst of his heat when he can barely think straight anyway, that he can’t have this alpha. He can’t have Peter. Can’t have his son, fuck.
This is one of the many, many reasons Tony hates alphas. Because they do this bullshit to him, fuck with his head and make him want things, make it so hard to control himself. Make him consider things he never would.
He wouldn’t.
This is why he hates alphas, Tony thinks, the heat after that, Peter insisting that it had been fine last time so he’s staying again. This is why, he repeats in his head, making himself wait until Peter’s gone to bed before he fucks himself with his newest aid, larger than all the others, with all the bells and whistles to make it seem like a real alpha’s knot.
This is fucking why, he tells himself as he comes again and again and again, clenching around it and muffling everything coming out of his mouth in the pillow; because they make him do this, want this. Makes it so easy, so good, to imagine Peter fucking him, knotting him, filling him up and biting him, god, fuck. Makes him moan Peter into his bedding; whisper, hopeless, desperate, please, Peter please, need you.
Because they make him not himself.
But he’s not going to stop having heats, so he has to— has to just find a way to deal with this, a way that leaves him able to still look Peter in the eye after his heat’s passed. They’re not going to stop.
Worse, so much worse, Peter starts having ruts.
The first one— the first one, Tony hadn’t even smelled. The first one had been an almost instant slide from normal—Peter a little testy and distracted but normal—to full rut, Peter’s scent sharpening, deepening, flooding over Tony strong enough to make his knees go weak, send him sagging against the counter. Peter’s staring at him when Tony looks over, a little glazed, heavy and intent like Tony is some sort of prey, and it’s horrifying to see that expression on his kid’s face.
Tony freezes, not wanting to set Peter off in any way, and Peter closes his eyes. Inhales, long and deep, scenting Tony, Jesus Christ.
Opens his eyes, and there’s a flicker, a moment where he seems to realize what is happening, what he’s doing. Freezes too, and then—
Runs.
He’s gone before Tony has a chance to move, a chance to even call after him, slamming out of the house without taking a single thing with him. Tony sits, shakily, and has a little breakdown.
He doesn’t know how they’re going to manage this now. What the hell they’re going to do. Fuck, what Peter’s going to feel, when his rut is over.
Rhodey calls a few hours later, just to let him know Peter’s with him, safe and incredibly upset. “He won’t tell me anything,” Rhodey says as Tony clutches his phone, “but… well, he’s in rut, Tony. It’s probably his first, right?” Tony manages a noise that sounds like affirmation. “Right. I’m sure that’s it; they say it’s rough the first time. He can stay until it’s over. He’ll be fine; don’t worry, Tones.”
Too late.
If he thought things were awkward after his heats, they’re so much more fucking awkward when Peter comes back two days later, rut scent gone. His normal scent nearly scrubbed as well, buried beneath heavily scented soap and— Tony sniffs, carefully, once Peter’s turned his back. His scent is so muted, metallic tinged, just off— he took a blocker. He took a fucking blocker so his scent wouldn’t bother Tony as much.
Tony’s heart nearly breaks. “Peter,” he says. “Baby. Come here a minute.”
Peter’s wary when he walks over, ashamed. Stops, a little too far away. “No,” Tony says, and opens his arms. “Come here.”
“Are you sure?” Peter says, so quiet, and Tony’s heart does break, completely.
“Oh, kiddo,” he says. “Yes, yes, I’m sure,” and he clings to Peter just as tightly as Peter clings to him. It feels like he hasn’t properly hugged Peter in months.
“I’m sorry,” Peter whispers. “I’m so sorry, Dad, I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why but I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Tony tells him. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. We’re going to be okay.” He ducks his head, brushing his mouth right over Peter’s scent point. “I don’t want you to take scent blockers,” he says. “They’re not good for you, and you’re not— you don’t need to, Peter. I’m going to be fine without them.”
“I don’t want it to bother you,” Peter says, and Tony shakes his head.
“It doesn’t. It won’t,” he promises. “You’re more important to me than any of that.”
*
He doesn’t know how he gets through his next couple of heats.
Peter stays, and stays, and Tony gets used to his scent there, during them. He starts thinking—
You’re not supposed to be ashamed of anything you think during heat, whatever it is, however wrong it is. Everyone knows it turns omegas into someone they aren’t normally, that those things don’t count as real wants. Still, Tony doesn’t think h should ever admit that what he’s started thinking about during his last few heats isn’t just Peter, inside him and under him and filling him up.
It’s Peter, how Peter— Peter wouldn’t be one of those alphas, would he. Peter’s stubborn and a little pushy sometimes, but he’d never try to take over, never think he’s better than Tony. Never try to push him, manipulate him into doing something he didn’t want. Wouldn’t try to mate him or breed him without Tony’s permission, and would never use him like a mindless fucktoy, a stupid little omega slut.
No; Peter would be such a soft alpha, so willing and careful with Tony, so easy to control, to direct. So good at taking direction.
Peter would be—could be—the perfect alpha for Tony. He’d barely need any training to be exactly what Tony wants; after all, he already loves Tony. He already wants Tony. It’s like this is what he was born to be.
It’s awful, but Tony’s still thinking it during his heats. Is still thinking it outside of his heats, day to day, watching Peter and seeing all the ways in which Peter would be perfect. He already smells like Tony. He already knows exactly what Tony likes. Knows how difficult Tony can be and isn’t bothered by it. And he’s gorgeous, he’s so fucking gorgeous, so tempting.
He thinks Peter’s watching him a little too.
There’s something wrong about contact between them now. There shouldn’t be, but when they’re curled up together, watching TV; when Peter slides up behind him and hugs him; when Tony leans against his side when he corrects Peter’s work— those touches are off, are too much, too charged. Heavy with a kind of intent that does not belong there.
Peter doesn’t leave during his next rut. Just stays in his bedroom most of the time, and Tony’s on edge the whole first day despite himself. When Peter emerges every now and then, he follows every move Tony makes, unmistakably hungry.
Tony should feel hunted, should feel angry and horrified the way he had been the first time Peter looked at him like that.
Oh, he doesn’t. Stares back at Peter on the second day, challenging. What, that stare says. You want something? Gonna do something about it?
Peter ducks back into his room and hides, but his scent is thicker, coating the inside of Tony’s lungs. He’s not handling this as well as Tony’s managed his heats with Peter in the house.
Not nearly as good at keeping quiet when he moans Tony’s name either.
The last day— the last day, Tony wakes up and feels sore, heavy. Lies there and thinks, sluggishly, a little too hot, that he really wants to curl up and waste the day on some TV marathon. Really wants to—
Fuck, he thinks a second later. Oh, fuck; this is… not great.
Peter’s in the hall when Tony comes out of his bedroom. Close, like he was lurking, drawn in by the scent of Tony’s heat, and the scent of Peter, of Peter still in rut, hits Tony so hard he shudders. God, he wants.
“Dad,” Peter says, his voice low, rough. “Dad, this—”
“I know,” Tony says, cutting him off. “I’ll just— I’ll visit Natasha for a few days.”
“No,” and Peter walks—fucking stalks—toward him. Backs him up against the wall, his hands on either side of Tony, trapping him. Tony feels frozen. “I don’t want you to go.”
“That’s just your rut talking,” Tony says. “That’s all.”
Peter shakes his head, slow. “No,” he says. “I’ve heard you, Dad. I know what you want when you’re in heat. I could give it to you.”
Tony swallows, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He should be afraid, he thinks, distantly. He should be worried about what this alpha might do, might try and take, now that he’s got Tony nearly pinned, but— he doesn’t fear Peter. Never will. There’s just… heat, a sharp screaming hunger riding up in him.
“I’ve heard you too, kiddo,” Tony says.
“Dad,” Peter moans, swaying closer, nearly touching him. “Dad, please, please, I want— I know you don’t want an alpha, I know, but I’d be so good. I’d be so, so good for you, I promise.”
It’s too much, too much, and Tony has held out too long. Has stopped being able to beat himself up enough for the things he’s been thinking, for what he wants. “I know,” he says. “I know you’d be so good. Fuck, Peter; you’d be perfect, wouldn’t you. You’d be every last thing I’ve ever wanted in an alpha.”
Peter closes his eyes, letting out a long, shuddering breath. “Let me,” he says, his voice so rough they’re barely words.
Tony doesn’t even bother to think. “Yes.”
He gets a growl from Peter for that, gets Peter pressing closer and kissing him, his hands all over Tony. Tony hooks his hand around the back of Peter’s neck and pulls him in, holds him there and kisses him deeper, again and again and again.
“Peter,” he says once Peter’s pulled back a little. “Not here, kiddo. I’m not up for getting knotted anywhere but bed anymore.” Peter moans; yeah, he thought that might catch his attention. He’s still like all alphas in some ways.
“Why did I even bother getting dressed,” Tony mutters, walking Peter back into his bedroom, shoving him toward the bed.
Peter’s still watching him, so intently, but a tiny little smile creeps onto his face anyway. “So I could undress you?” he says, and fuck, he’s going to be cute about this. Of course he is; it’s Peter.
He kisses Peter, hands up under his shirt. “Better get on with it then,” Tony says.
Oh, he’s seen Peter naked plenty of times, across all ages, and he’s sure Peter’s seen him naked a few times too. But this is completely different; this time, they’re looking. This time, they’re touching, and it’s so good, it’s everything Tony’s been wanting for months now, the contact he needs to settle his heat a little.
They fumble their way onto the bed, tangled up on their sides, Tony’s hand sliding down to Peter’s cock as they kiss, and he loves the way Peter’s breath catches. Peter’s hand curls over Tony’s side, spreads across the curve of his ass, and then hesitates. He presses his fingers down and slips them a little lower, a little closer to Tony’s hole.
“Dad,” Peter says, “can— can I, uh. Before I—” He cuts off with a groan, and it’s adorable. “Oh my god, I’m going to be terrible at this.”
Tony nips at Peter’s lip, at the edge of his chin, teasing. Playful. “You’re going to be perfect,” he says. “And yes. Whatever it is, yes.”
“Fuck,” Peter whispers, and then he’s rubbing his fingers along the cleft of Tony’s ass, right over his hole, spreading around the slick that’s already leakingout. Presses one in slowly, watching Tony, and sure, Tony doesn’t need it but it still feels good to finally have some part of Peter in him. He’s still early enough in his heat that he can let Peter have this without immediately needing more.
He scrapes his teeth over Peter’s neck, getting a shiver from Peter. “Gonna open me up for your knot?” Tony says, and Peter whimpers. “Come on, kiddo, you can get more than that in there.”
Peter listens, pushing a second finger in so easily, and Tony loves how quick Peter is to obey; how easily, thoughtlessly he does. He’s not going to really challenge Tony in any of this. Is more likely than not going to let him take the lead—ask him to, even—just like he does anytime he runs into something new. He always brings those things to Tony, like he’s certain dad will know what to do.
His slick is running down Peter’s wrist by the time he’s given in and gone for three, Tony grinding back onto them, his hand slow on Peter’s cock, mouth slow against Peter’s. So sue him if he’s a little distracted.
“I’m going to need more than that,” Tony says. Pushes Peter over and straddles him, and the way Peter stares up at him is fucking addictive. The way Peter moans when Tony rubs his ass over Peter’s cock, when Tony slides down onto it, is even better.
“Oh fuck,” Peter breathes out. “Dad, you feel so good I can’t even believe it.”
“Feel pretty good yourself, alpha,” and Peter’s fingers dig into his thighs, hard. “You like that, huh?” Peter bites his lip. “Like having an omega all to yourself?”
“Yes,” Peter whispers, and Tony— he was so sure Peter would be good for him, but—
“Do you feel it?” he asks, quieter. “There in the back of your head, looking at me and seeing an omega?” Peter’s breath catches, and Tony settles down on him, grinding slowly.
“Does it make you want things?” Tony murmurs. “Make you want to just… get me under you, get me pinned and fuck me, make me beg for you knot? Make you want to get your mouth on me, make me bleed and bond me and break me in? Is that what you want, alpha?”
He hopes not, but he has to know before he ends up caught, has to know if the mistake he’s making is just that Peter is his son. Just, he thinks, fuck, just.
Peter’s staring at him, his hands painfully tight and that dazed, heavy look gone. “No,” Peter whispers. “Dad— no, I don’t. I don’t want— am I going to? Is that what— is that all I can do?” his voice rising, anxious.
“Oh baby, no,” Tony says, leaning down and kissing him. “Of course not.” Peter’s hands ease on him, and he draws in a shaking breath.
“Good,” he says. “I want— I want other things, not that. I just— I didn’t know, I’ve never—”
“I know,” Tony says. “Aren’t you lucky, getting me for all these firsts.” He raises his ass, starting to ride Peter slow, far slower than he really wants to. “So what do you want, sweetheart?”
Peter shakes his head, without words as twitches under Tony. It’s like getting Peter’s cock in him sets Tony off, brings all that want, that need from his heat back front and center, taking over his brain. “How about this,” Tony says. “This is what you want,” as he fucks down onto Peter, clenches around him. “You want that, want to feel me so tight all around your knot, don’t you,” and Peter groans, his hips jerking up, meeting Tony. “Want to feel me keeping you there, stuck with me.”
He gets a hand on his cock and Peter’s eyes snap to it, his mouth gaping open as he stares. “You want to be caught by me; you know it’s true,” Tony says. “Want to know I wanted you when I’ve never looked at another alpha.”
“Oh god,” Peter says, “yes, yes, you can catch me, Dad,” and it should sound like the cheesy line it is, like an alpha teasing, pretending they’d hold true to it when they’d been caught good and hard.
It doesn’t.
Tony’s suddenly desperate for Peter’s knot, the need for it sinking into him and spreading; he presses his hands against Peter’s chest and starts riding him fast and hard, just like he’s wanted to for months. “God, Peter,” he says. “Want you in me, want you to knot me up good.”
“Dad,” Peter whines, “you can’t say that, fuck.”
“No?” Tony says. “I think I can say whatever I want and you’ll love it. And what I want is for you to fill me up, lock so tight not a single drop of come could get past. Come on, kid; show me you can be as good as you promised.”
Peter’s gasping, flushed bright red and thrusting up into Tony frantically. “Gonna,” he manages, and he’s got that glazed, heavy lidded look again, sinking deeper into rut, into the mindless animal hunger of it.
“Look at you,” Tony says. “Is that all it takes, huh? Telling you how much I want you swelling inside me, stretching me out? All you need to turn into this needy rutting beast?” Peter moans, his fingers leaving bruises on Tony, fucking him hard. “You’re such a slut for an omega hole, aren’t you,” and it’s fucking perfect; he can feel the first swell against his ass, the barest bump of a knot starting.
“Tell me, baby,” Tony asks, “is it better that we’re who we are?”Peter’s staring up at him, hanging on Tony’s every word; Tony leans closer, wants to be sure Peter can hear him over the loud, messy sounds of them fucking. “Do you like it more, knowing you’re going to knot your dad? Gonna come in your dad, breed him?” and he doesn’t need Peter to say anything, not with the way his knot is growing, still sliding in and out of Tony but there’s a little force to it now.
“I mean, who could possibly know you better,” Tony says. “Or is it more than that, hmm? Do you like knowing that you came from me? Came out of me right where you’re about to come in me?”
Peter jerks so hard, his knot really getting with it now, barely slipping out of him on the next stroke. “Dad,” he gasps.
“You were always meant for this,” Tony tells him, starting to pant himself. “Meant from the start to be so desperate for me, so needy, just begging for an omega to fuck, to milk you dry,” and it hurts when Peter tries to pull out that time, his knot hitting the point where they’re already stuck together; Peter could come like this—Tony could let him—but it’s not good enough, would just be a waste to have a loose knotting.
“I didn’t even know it,” Tony says, “but I made you to be so fucking filthy, so perverted. I picked the best donor for you, wanted you to be the best you possible could, but you’re even better.” It almost catches, Peter humping against him the limited amount he can, whining pitifully; Tony leans down, pulling on the knot a little, till his face is right over Peter’s. “You need this,” he says, Peter nodding immediately. “Need to be caught so badly, baby. You’re going to wind up being one of those alphas they talk about, that just can’t get enough, can’t ever get enough of being in an omega. It’s going to be so easy to make you knot me again and again, as many times as I want.”
He laughs suddenly, nearly dizzy with the possibilities that just opened in his mind. Kisses Peter hard, biting his lip. “Think you’ll knock me up?” Tony whispers, pulling back just enough to see Peter’s eyes, wide and dark, shocked. Wanting. “Gonna give me a grandkid to spoil rotten?”
The sound Peter makes at that is incoherent, but the way his knot sinks further into Tony says enough. “Like the thought of that, do you?” Tony says. “Guess we’ll have to keep trying till it works.”
He feels it catch, feels it swell inside him, fucking huge, god. Peter’s got the most perfect alpha cock, the best Tony’s ever had. “That’s it,” he gasps, “fuck, that’s it, kid. Just like that, oh god, you’ve got such a good knot, so hard, ugh!” Feels it twitch as Peter starts to come, as Peter jerks under him, sinking even deeper, settling in and shooting off in Tony. Some distant part of Tony nearly hums with satisfaction. It’s a tight lock, a good breeding; Peter’s going to seed him easily like this.
That shouldn’t be appealing at all, but it really fucking is, Tony’s cock throbbing in his hand; a few more strokes, another little thought about Peter’s pup, their pup, the best of all possible choices, growing in him, and he’s coming, clenching down hard around Peter’s knot.
When he sinks down, ass pulling wonderfully at Peter’s knot, Peter wraps his arms around him. Kisses him, slow, messy, pretty fucking out of it, but to be fair, so is Tony. He closes his eyes, shoving his nose into Peter’s neck, mouth over his scent point. Licks at it and Peter moans, turning his own face into the same spot on Tony's neck, breathing hot and humid against it, and Tony wouldn’t say no if Peter bit down right now.
He won’t because that’s just… not how Peter is, but Tony wouldn’t say no.
Tony squirms on Peter's knot every now and then, unable to help it, needing to remind himself how good it feels, how tight it’s settled. Peter moans every time, clinging tighter.
“Still okay?” Tony says softly, and Peter tilts his head back, looking at him.
“Yeah,” Peter says, a little slurred, but it looks like he’s hitting a lull in his rut. “I needed you so much, Dad. Wanted you so much. The way you smelled— I was losing my mind. How could I even look at anyone else when you were there?”
He’s tracing his fingers over Tony's back, slow, mindless circles. “I know you don’t want an alpha,” he says, quieter. “I won’t be all like, super alpha though, I promise.”
“You’re not an alpha,” Tony tells him. “You’re my alpha.”
“Fuck,” Peter murmurs, shivering. “Please— I can be your alpha. I can. I will.”
“You will,” Tony says, meaning it, making that commitment without a second thought. “You’re a dream come true, Peter. Perfect, so perfect for me, like no one else ever could be. You’re already mine, already made from me.”
Peter moans, pressing his face harder into Tony's shoulder.
They stay like that, drifting a little; it’s a hell of a catch, Peter’s knot not shifting in him even a bit, not shrinking at all. Tony wonders how long it’ll stay. If it’ll be this tight every time.
He hopes so. Of course his son would do this well too.
It lasts and lasts, and— and Tony’s slipping back into heat, Peter’s knot still just as caught in him as before. God, this is going to be a wild heat.
“You said,” Tony starts, Peter stirring slightly, “said you’d heard me.” He drags his nails down Peter’s side, slowly, just feeling how he presses up into it. “So were you making sure I heard you? Doing it on purpose?”
“Um,” Peter says. “I— maybe. A little. I mean, I— I didn’t want you to know? I felt so bad about it. But I still… really wanted you to know. Really wanted you to—”
“Wanted me to what?” Tony says, propping himself up a little so he can look at Peter. It might be nearly torture for Peter, but Tony can still get off like this, listening to Peter’s dirty little fantasies. Can still come all over Peter and all around his knot. “What were you thinking when you jacked off and came calling my name?”
“Ohmigod, Dad,” Peter mutters.
Tony snorts. “Little late to be embarrassed, kiddo.” Twists, clenching at the same time, and Peter groans as his knot gets all that movement. “I wanna hear; entertain me, baby.”
Peter wrinkles his nose, but his arms stay tight around Tony. “I— I was thinking about you—” He takes a deep breath, turning until his face is tucked against Tony’s neck. “Was thinking about you fucking me,” he says, just a little muffled, and that was not quite what Tony was expecting.
“Yeah?” he says.
“Yeah,” Peter mumbles. “You— you’d tell me I hadn’t earned the right to knot you yet. That I’d have to work at it, show you how good I could be.”
“Fuck, Peter,” Tony says, squeezing his cock. “How were you supposed to show me that, hmm?”
Peter seems to realize what Tony’s doing then, tucking his head in more and looking down. Reaches down a second later, his fingers brushing over Tony’s, over his cock. “All kinds of ways,” Peter says, wrapping his hand around Tony’s, pressing their fingers between each other’s, slowly stroking Tony’s, using their hands together. “Anything I could think of, Dad. Letting you fuck me anywhere you wanted, any way; blowing you, or sometimes you’d just fuck my face and come all over it,” and Tony groans, hips jerking into their hands and pulling at Peter’s knot in the samemovement.
“I’d think— I’d think about you tying me up on the bed, to it, telling me alphas couldn’t be trusted,” Peter says, hand moving faster, tighter. “Telling me you’d help me learn, that maybe if I did well enough, you’d ride me like that, still tied up, after you came in me.”
“Jesus,” and it feels so good, this dual sensation, Peter all over him, in him. “You’ve got a filthy mind, baby.” He nips the underside of Peter’s chin, licks it, just barely, and he doesn’t know if Peter will even understand what that means. “I like it, Tony says. “After all, I know where you got it from.”
Peter huffs out this strangled laugh, his hand tightening around Tony’s cock. Moves faster as he starts talking again, Tony thrusting into it, closer by the moment. “You wouldn’t let me knot you even then,” Peter says. “You’d pull off as soon as I was almost there and make me come like that, play with my knot after until I felt like I was going to cry or pass out or something,” and he probably would. An alpha’s knot is so sensitive, not meant for anything but the warm, soft inside of an omega.
Tony shudders. “Next time,” he tells Peter, “next time, sweetheart. When—oh, fuck—when I’m not in heat, when I can give you the full attention you should get.” He pants, rocking against Peter, clenching tight around him. “I’ll make you knot like that when I’m not in heat, because you haven't earned that yet, have you. God, I can’t fucking wait, wanna see what you’ve got in me.”
He’s close, so close, Peter breathing heavy against his neck. “I should— Peter, baby, please.”
“Should what,” Peter whispers.
“Should get you like that,” Tony says, his eyes closing, right on the edge. “Get your knot popped and then compare you to some of my aids. See what you’re closest too and fuck you with that one.”
“Fuck,” Peter says, shaky. “I— I know I’m bigger than most, you’d have to— I don’t know if I could take one that big,” and Tony’s coming, squirming on Peter’s cock and twitching in Peter’s hand.
Peter’s knot might have gone down a bit, he thinks as he lies on Peter, his brain most static and white noise. Just a few things, circling round and round— wait.
“Bigger than most?” Tony says. “How would you know, huh? You haven’t even seen the size of what I get in me.”
It’s cute how Peter blushes, avoiding his gaze like he can pretend Tony isn’t there while he’s literally stuck on Peter’s cock. “Uh, I—” He squeezes his eyes shut, the rest coming out in a rush of words. “I snuck in once and found them and maybe played with them a little and that’s how I know.”
“You— you little perv,” Tony says, but it’s delighted. “Shit, Peter. That’s— I wanna say I can’t believe it, but boy can I. So what, you borrowed them for a bit? Or did you get off in my room and do your little comparison there?”
“Ahhh,” Peter moans, so embarrassed, but he brought this on himself. “It— it was when you went off to that conference overnight.”
“So it was in my bed.”
“Maybe,” Peter says. “But, uh. Yeah. I did that, so I do know that I’m bigger than all of them except the new one, so—”
“Wait,” Tony cuts in. “Wait wait wait. New one? New one? Peter Benjamin Stark, that was not a one time experiment, was it.” Peter’s got his face hidden, an arm thrown over it like that’s any actual protection. “How else would you know that any of them are new, hmmm? Unless you just happened to see what was there before I got it and after.”
He pushes at Peter’s arm until he can see one eye; waits. Peter opens it, eventually, squinting at him. “You sneaky slut,” Tony says. “You went back for more, didn’t you. How many times?”
Peter shakes his head, his face flaming red. “Too many,” he mumbles.
Tony opens his mouth, about to demand more details, when Peter’s knot slips. He shudders, feeling it get smaller by the second, sliding out of him and leaving him feeling empty. “Ugh,” he groans, and clings to Peter a little, Peter gasping sharply.
Oh, he feels gross, god. A hot shower sounds amazing, but that would require standing, and walking, and just in general moving and all of that sounds awful. He sighs against Peter’s collarbone. “So which one was your favorite?”
“What?”
He nips Peter, lightly, but Peter still jumps. “Which heat aid?” he says. “I know you probably tried them all.”
“They— uh, I— it’s—” It’s almost painful to listen to like this; Tony takes pity on him.
“I just wanted to find out which one I should use, when I get you knotted on one while you’re still caught in me. That’s all, baby,” Tony says. Grins. “But I can just pick one, if that’s easier.” Peter makes a helpless little sound. “How about the one that expands?” Tony asks. “Or— what about the one with a tube; I could fill it up and make it squirt in you. Could lick it back out of you after, even. What do you think?”
“Daaaaad,” Peter whines. “You— I can’t— oh god, whatever you want, please.”
Tony laughs at him. “You really are a slut for this,” he says, tilting his head up and kissing Peter. “Love you, kiddo.”
“I’d like any of it,” Peter says. “Anything you wanted from me. Anything at all; I love you too, Dad, so much.”
“I know,” Tony says. God, he knows. This— if Peter hadn’t loved him, maybe he might have been able to hold out longer.
If Peter hadn’t loved him, this would have gone so much worse. He sure as hell wouldn’t be kissing Peter right now, warm and soft. Wouldn’t be nipping at Peter’s scent point, teasing, pestering him until Peter huffs and squirms away. Wouldn’t have Peter following when Tony rolls off him, flops over again onto his stomach, face buried in his arms. Stretches a little, and Peter’s hands are on him, stroking down his side, over his head. Peter’s mouth is on him, trailing kisses across his shoulders, lingering for a moment at Tony’s scent point, darting out his tongue to taste it.
Peter’s hand wanders lower, practically groping at Tony’s ass. Not that Tony can blame him for being tempted, but there’s something— he’s not sure it’s entirely sane, the wave of humor that hits him at the thought of it. Maybe just a little hysterical, he decides, and he’s going to blame that completely on his heat. It’s always made him overreact.
“Dad?”
“Mmm?”
“Can— would it be okay—”
“Peter,” Tony says. “I told you. Yes. Whatever it is, yes. Carte blanche, kiddo.”
Peter huffs. Mutters to himself, something Tony can’t quite make out, and then, at the end, “Fine.”
Fine what, Tony wonders. Peter’s hands are on his ass, spread across each cheek and pulling him open as Peter shifts on the bed, settling between Tony’s legs; maybe that was it, maybe Peter wanted to look.
Or not, oh, god, Tony jerking as Peter licks up the cleft of his ass, stopping right before Tony’s hole. Pulls back and licks another line up, a little to the side of that, and it takes Tony entirely too long to realize Peter’s licking up the come that’s dripped down Tony’s ass. Can he be blamed, really, for being a little distracted by the wet, soft heat of his son’s tongue there, of all places?
“Fuck,” Tony gasps. “What the hell, baby, what—”
Peter pulls back, his breath hot against Tony’s skin when he answers. “I was going to ask,” Peter says, just a little sharp. “But noooo—”
“I’m not regretting that,” Tony says. “Just— Jesus, kid!” as Peter presses his mouth against Tony’s hole, licking at it.
He doesn’t bother with words after that. It’s easier, better, to focus on the feel of Peter’s tongue against his skin, all along his rim and inside, firm and soft and wetter by the second as Tony starts slicking up again; he doesn’t know if Peter’s going to be able to keep up with it.
So much better to dig his head and his knees into the bed and push up into Peter’s touch, into his mouth. Peter lets him, waits until Tony’s settled in and then keeps him there, his arms hooked around Tony’s thighs, hands on his ass. Buries his face as deep as he can and laps at Tony, eager and fucking hungry. Tony can feel every touch, every breath, every moan Peter makes, and he’s getting pretty noisy himself. “God, Peter,” Tony manages at one point, “where the hell did you learn this?”
Peter barely pulls back enough to answer. “Didn’t,” he says. “I just— wanted to.” Dives back in and Tony groans.
“You’re filthy, that’s what you are,” Tony tells him. “Fucking nasty, baby. Of course you’re a natural at this, you— oh fuck, right there, kiddo, right— yeah, keep it up.” He’s not sure if he can come from this—hell, if he can even come again so soon—but he’s going to try.
“It’s— it’s just ingrained in you, isn’t it,” Tony says. “Down to your bones, buried so deep, that you’re a slut,” and Peter moans into Tony’s skin. “Such a slut, such a good fucking slut, hungry for slick; you’re a disgrace of an alpha, you know that?”
That gets him a huff, and then a hand on his cock. Tony almost tells him no, almost insists on testing this, but it feels so good and he just wants to come. He’s past caring how, just— “Come on kid,” Tony gasps, “come on, show me what you can do.”
Peter keeps licking after Tony’s come, lighter, softer, but still going even when Tony starts squirming, too sensitive and worn out. “Peter,” he whines. “Baby, ugh, stoppit. I know you’re a slut for slick but enough.”
There’s one more broad, long swipe of Peter’s tongue and then he’s pulling back. “It’s not my fault you taste good,” Peter says, and Tony laughs.
Turns a little to look over his shoulder at Peter and doesn’t regret it; Peter’s face is red, his lips even redder, wetness smeared all over his mouth and chin and cheeks. Spit or slick or come, it doesn’t matter. “You think it tastes good because it tastes like you?” he asks, idly, watching Peter lick his lips.
“What,” Peter says, staring down at Tony’s sill spread open ass. “Because it’s my come I’m eating out of you?”
Tony snorts and Peter gives him a confused look. “No, dumbass,” Tony says, Peter scowling, “because you’re half me. More than half, technically.”
Peter rolls his eyes, actually rolls his eyes, god. “Or maybe you just taste good, Dad,” he says, wiping the back of his hand over his chin.
“Well, come on,” Tony says. Crooks his finger at Peter when he frowns. “Let me have a taste, then.”
Peter’s mouth drops open, and then he’s crawling up over Tony, making things difficult as Tony tries to turn over at the same time. Kisses him, pressing his tongue into Tony’s mouth, and honestly, Tony doesn’t care what any of it tastes like. Just wants this, Peter’s lips on his.
“You know,” Peter says when he pulls away. “You’re kind of a slut too, Dad,” and the laugh slips out of Tony before he even thinks about it.
“Guess it just runs in our genes,” he tells Peter.
“Yeah,” Peter says, nuzzling up to him. “I guess I had to get it from somewhere.”
“Guess you did,” Tony says, and— maybe no one will ever understand, but this was the right choice. Peter was the right choice, was the alpha he’s been holding out for all this time.
Of course he’d ended up carrying the perfect alpha for himself. This was always meant to be.
“Love you, baby,” Tony tells him, soft, almost a whisper against Peter’s skin.
“Love you, Dad,” Peter whispers back, and that’s what really matters, isn’t it.
*
AO3
#starker#DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT#heed the tags#abo#bottom!Tony#top!peter#alpha!peter#omega!tony#my work#fanfiction#ironspider#tony x peter#peter x tony#tony stark x peter parker#mcu#spiderman#marvel#iron man
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