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#hope: who is not ultron: not even a little: probably
swashbucklery · 1 year
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dfhkdjfgjhdgf GREAT, now the way Taylor sings "And now you're mine" is 4935743895 times creepier.
Like yes the point of the song is that the lyrics are creepy but the melody is light it's Taylor's version of a reverse Alkaline Trio song but also.
What if it was just about taking the person you love to the point of untethered rage and keeping them in a cage in your evil lab so that they could never betray you ever again, hmm? What if that.
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darsynia · 1 year
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Just Right | Ch 2
(Steve Rogers x F!Reader, post-Ultron Multichapter)
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gif by @dailystevegifs
Summary:
You’ve been in love with Steve Rogers for at least a year, but he treats you the same way he treats every other member of the team– with respect, but nothing more. It takes an inter-dimensional mistake and a whole second, more assertive, actually interested Steve for you to realize that you don’t want just any version of Steve Rogers– you want the one you’ve been pining for all this time.
Length: 3,446
FIC MASTERLIST | LAST CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER
Dedicated to @ronearoundblindly who is the bestest
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Excerpt:
“Starting out or just getting back?” Steve’s voice asks.
You smile without turning around. “Can’t you tell from the damp, bedraggled hair?”
“I would never think to comment on such a thing,” he says gallantly.
“A king among men,” you pronounce.
“If so, I’m an absent ruler.” His tone makes you turn to look over your shoulder. Steve’s looking down at the ground with a wistful look on his face. He’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top, and the hem of the latter is folded, giving you a glimpse of the jut of his hipbone above the low waistband of the sweats. 
Your mouth goes dry before you turn back around, hoping he doesn’t mind if you have no idea what he just said. 
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Chapter Two
You stand there staring at Gold Steve for three whole seconds before your stomach growls loudly. Using the poker face Natasha taught you, you keep your expression and your gaze steady and get to watch as his attempt at ‘stoic’ starts to fracture.
“Go ahead,” you say, pressing your lips together to stop your own laughter. “It’s my own fault for waiting so long to eat.”
“I’m no hypocrite,” he says, backing up and bowing a hand toward the microwave. “I ate late, too. Got caught up with your Steve and Tony, trying to figure out the thought process that led Stark to invent the device that sent me here. They’ve got me a room and a badge for access, but until we get an inkling about how to reverse it, I’ll do what I can to help out your Steve.”
You clench your jaw ruthlessly to prevent a reaction to his repeated use of ‘your Steve,’ leaning to sniff your soup with the door of the microwave blocking his view of you. When you straighten back up, though, Gold Steve is standing there with oven mitts.
“It was pretty hot when I got mine out, and I’m guessing you don’t have any healing abilities.”
“Is that a fishing expedition, Rogers?”
He follows you out of the kitchen to a table, and hands you the spoon you forgot. “Well, you’re the only different thing I probably won’t risk unbalancing the universe to discover, so, yes.”
All of the previous heart-fluttering things he’s said to you suddenly lose all meaning. You choke out a weak-sounding “Oh,” and focus entirely on your soup, even though you’ve lost your appetite.
“I feel like I just watched a flower wilt in real time,” Gold Steve says, sitting down across from you. You desperately wish for a book you could hold up between you, anything to hide from the discerning look he’s giving you. Suddenly, he pulls in a sharp breath-- he’s just figured out why you’re upset. “That’s not what I--” Breaking off, he reaches his hand across the table, palm down, like a tiny little white flag begging for your attention. 
You deliberately eat another spoonful of soup; you’re no one’s entertainment, least of all this oddly open version of the man you love. Infuriatingly, he doesn’t take the hint, but instead twiddles his fingers. It’s stubborn, ridiculous, and it works, damn him. You look up, but you refuse to smile.
“I implied you were an object of last resort.” You don’t let yourself move a muscle. He tips his head to the side slowly, sincerity arching his eyebrows as he says, “I promise you, that’s not the case.”
You’re suddenly possessed by some strange spirit of determined peacemaking. “It would make sense, wouldn’t it? You have no way of knowing what you could alter! If your version of Stark can send you across universal lines, even a casual comment might give ours any number of ideas.”
He’s nodding. “I’ll admit I’ve been locked down pretty tight since I got here.”
For a few glorious seconds, his phrasing reminds you of the specific close cut of his uniform pants from the day before. You’d never have been able to get away with a design like that! Everyone would have figured out your feelings immediately.
“So you’ve watched your words with everyone but me?”
Gold Steve’s little frown of acquiescence is familiar and bittersweet. “I deserved that. What I mean to say is, I got lucky that the person who’s different is you.”
You’d snuck another spoonful of soup as he was talking, and now you choke on it a little bit. “Oh my god, did you, like, lose a bet and have to take a pick-up lines course from the Anthony Edward Stark School of Superheroes Who Can’t Date Good and Want To Learn How To Do Other Things Good Too?”
You’re not sure what you were expecting as a reaction to that, but it wasn’t this. Gold Steve’s body tenses up visibly and he looks down, a distinct look of regret gracing his features.
“That was out of line, I’m sorry,” you whisper, getting up and rushing toward the kitchen with your mostly-uneaten bowl. You find the ziploc bag it was in previously, snag a sharpie, and put your name on it, so it’s not wasted. The soup you’ve already eaten is being broken down by your peculiar mix of remorse, worry, and stomach acids. When you shut the freezer door, you see that Gold Steve is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a soft smile on his face.
“You didn’t need to run away. It was a good joke.”
“It was a harsh joke.”
“I deserved it,” he says, and when you scoff and move to rinse out your bowl, he elaborates. “I said I was sorry for making you uncomfortable, and then I did it again. You fought back. Seems fair to me.”
You mutter something about being a weirdo who can’t take a compliment, but he’s still Steve Rogers, so he pushes back on that, too.
“I’d ask you where you got the idea that it’s unusual or concerning for someone who looks like me to compliment you, but somehow I don’t think I need to,” he says gently.
“That’s gossip, and I have to get going,” you say. The expression on your face has to be forbidding, because Gold Steve moves out of the way and doesn’t stop you as you leave the kitchen. 
Even though you have more time left for your break, you head toward your desk in the testing room. You feel a qualm of conscience, but the idea of talking about someone you care so deeply for behind his back, even with a version of himself… it makes you sick, truth or not.
You step into the darkened room, let the door fall shut, and lean up against the wall for a few minutes, letting your breathing patterns and anxious mind settle. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since Gold Steve walked into your universe, and you’re a mess. Sleep last night was restless, full of dreams you can’t remember except for the uneasy feeling you were left with when you woke up.
The unbalanced feeling just gets worse the more you talk to Gold Steve, and you’re terrified about what that means. Your feelings for Steve Rogers have increased steadily the longer you’ve known him, with no active encouragement. What does it mean that you are so disconcerted by his lookalike? 
That thought will set your feet on another anxiety spiral, so you picture your favorite image of puppies and flick on the light.
Across the room, you see a tall figure leaning up against the wall. When the two of you make eye contact, he lifts his hand and does an embarrassed little wave.
“What the heck are you doing here in the dark, Rogers?” you ask, hoping like hell a) he’s the Steve from your universe, and b) if he isn’t, that you don’t have the power to somehow conjure a version of Steve just by thinking about him, because that could get really awkward really fast, especially at night.
“I had some time, thought I’d kill it making sure nothing comes walking through the walls in here again.”
“In the dark?”
He pushes off from the wall and shows you the cell phone in his hand. “Tony keeps giving me crap for not feeling entirely comfortable with these yet. Figured the dark might be disorienting for any intruder, at least until you came back.” You must look confused, because he adds, “I’d feel better if you weren’t alone in here, at least not until we make the room more secure.”
Your earlier concern prompts you to say, “Your counterpart let slip that they don’t have an Avengers Compound. Unless Stark was testing a dimensional portal in the middle of the woods in upstate New York, I doubt anyone else will pop up here.” Steve’s nodding, and impulsively, you add, “Given the number of security risks all over the world, we’d need to have about a million Captain Americas to cover them all!”
“That may be true, but I would want to go after a member of my team if they were lost like that,” he says, strolling to the middle of the room.
“And leave your universe without their Captain America?” you tease, settling in at your desk.
“I prefer to think of it as giving my teammate a better shot at getting back home. Speaking of which, Sam told me how you escorted him out, when the other guy showed up.” 
Steve’s voice has gotten steadily closer, but you’ve been carefully arranging things at your desk as you listen, thus avoiding the look that’s probably on his face. Your desk faces the room instead of the wall, though, and he’s caught on. Steve walks over and stands directly in front of you, resting his hand on the object you were nervously adjusting. Your fingers are separated by barely a centimeter, and you realize you’re staring at their proximity when he clears his throat.
Reluctantly, you look up at him.
“You want to tell me why your first instinct was to get Sam out of there and handle things yourself?” His eyes are kind, and he does sound concerned, but he’s still questioning your judgment, and that raises your hackles a little.
Instead of just wishing he had more faith in your decision making process, you decide to show him why he should.
“Sam’s not a super soldier, and his armor isn’t stored in here, it’s in the armory. Following him over to the door got me close to the panic button without agitating the intruder,” you point out. “I imagine you watched the footage?” He nods thoughtfully, his posture straightening. “I walked straight from the door over to the lockers, where the prototypes are.” You leave it go at that, because you’re not trying to lecture him, just show you’re not trying to be a martyr.
He’s chuckling ruefully, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, point taken. I’m sorry I underestimated you.” The undercurrent of relief in his voice warms you.
“I don’t want a world without Sam Wilson any more than I’d want a world without Steve Rogers,” you say, just to twist the knife.
“Everyone’s contribution is important,” Steve emphasizes, and you avoid rolling your eyes. You were never one of the people worried about credit; every time something you made helps the person you made it for, that’s enough credit for you. “I’m sure he misses his team as much as they miss him. All of them,” he adds, nodding his chin in your direction as he backpedals to go stand with his back to the wall again.
“Not me,” you say breezily, pulling out a piece of sketch paper. Wanda Maximoff doesn’t have armor, and she probably doesn’t really want armor, but that doesn’t mean you can’t mock something up.
“‘Dine.” Steve sounds exasperated.
“I’m pulling your leg. He says I’m not in his universe.”
There’s silence for a long while, long enough that you look up from the spiky vest you’re idly sketching. Steve looks lost in thought, brows furrowed. You toy with the idea of trying to get him to leave, but decide against it. You’ve always wanted this space to feel like a comfortable, safe place to try new things. If Steve Rogers wants to guard you from an undetectable, unpreventable new threat, you’re fine with that.
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That night you don’t have nightmares, but you do dream about Steve’s hands. It’s as if your brain has been hiding a photo album and is now excitedly showing you the result of a year’s work.
Steve running his hand along the chestpiece of the first armor you designed for him.
The crowbar that’s winched open your stuck elevator doors being replaced by Steve’s hands, which then wrench the doors wide with ease.
The moment when you realized you actually loved the man, as you stood nearby at a party and watched Steve run his hand through his hair, smiling at something Stark said.
Countless times when he’s gotten your attention with gentle fingers on the back of your hand, a knuckle tap on your desk, resting his hand next to yours on a railing, stretching his arm across the table to wiggle his fing--
You’d been laying in bed half-asleep, waiting for the alarm to go off, but now you’re wide awake-- because that last image? It’s Gold Steve.
“Absolutely not,” you say aloud. You draw the line at conflating the two. Groaning aloud, you realize what you’re going to have to do.
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A week later, Stark’s pretty sure he’s onto something, which you only know about because Sam told you at the meeting you two had scheduled to finalize the changes to his gear. You’ve spent the whole week to yourself, not really on purpose, it just worked out that way. The feigned cold took care of a few days, and after that, you’d joked you were catching up on a tv series you’d been looking forward to. The strange part is, while you never really tried to see Steve every day, you usually did, and the longer it’s been, the more it feels like something’s missing.
Well, your minifridge is full of takeout leftovers, you’ve gotten two weeks’ worth of work done in half as much time, and your heart is full of stupid ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ bullshit, but at least you haven’t compromised your principles.
The weather today is supposed to be fantastic, so you get up early and lace up your trainers to take a dewy walk around the complex. You’re not a jogger per se, more of an ‘every three months, I forget why I’m not a jogger, and need a wheezing, limping reminder’ nature enthusiast.
You’re strolling along the back near the woods, reminding yourself how to breathe, when you see a figure jogging towards you. It doesn’t take long to recognize Steve in his typical work-out garb, those dark blue athletic pants and gray t-shirt. In full summer, he swaps to shorts (it’s around then that many of the compound staff find reasons to be outside around jogging time), but spring hasn’t quite shifted away from the bite of the winter wind yet.
Even though you’ve been deliberately avoiding the Steves, you slow your pace to prolong your moment of admiration. As it happens, he slows down too, and by the time you approach each other, your heart is full and your smile is genuine. It doesn’t hurt to be friendly to Gold Steve, and even though you hate to admit it, you do like the way he looks at you.
“Been awhile, Brigandine,” Gold Steve admonishes you, pulling up one leg behind himself to grab the foot and tug.
“Oh, I’m a slave to my stories,” you joke. When Stark had complained about your absences, Sam had told him which show you were knee-deep into, and ever since then, he’s been making soap opera jokes in texts and emails.
“Yeah, well, you’ve only got One Life To Live,” Gold Steve says seriously, and you both crack up. “You’re okay, though?” he asks once your giggles die down, and damn, there’s the longing again.
“Yeah, no worries,” you say. It isn’t until right now that you realize: it’s not like someone’s going to come get you when they figure out how to send this man home. “Had some things to think through, and this was a good time to do it.”
It’s the closest you’ve come to alluding to your feelings for ‘your Steve,’ and you feel like you can see understanding, if not full comprehension, in Gold Steve’s admiring expression. To deflect away from that potential awkwardness, you look around you, nodding toward the woods.
“I will completely lose my momentum if I stop now, but hey, enjoy this while you can, right? I was glad to hear from Sam that Stark might be close to a breakthrough. See ya!” 
You smile and wave like a complete idiot, opting at the last minute for the steady jog for your ignoble exit, instead of trying to actually run. There’s a non-zero chance this man will turn around and see you fall against the wall after 200 feet and heroically come back to help, and at that point, you’ll be looking to invent an interdimensional portal to open up underneath your feet.
When you turn the corner, you allow yourself a single look back, and see to your surprise that Gold Steve is still in sight, having slowed to a light jog himself.
About twenty minutes later, you’ve done a whole circuit, and most of it has been at a pace faster than a slow walk. You grab the damp towel you’d left draped by the rear door and wipe off your face and neck. It feels great; it’s been resting in the shade, so the wetness is refreshing rather than gross. 
Instead of heading right in, you enjoy the light breeze coming off the treeline and lean on the stone fence, letting its heat soak into you. The door opens behind you, and you hope like hell it’s not Nat; she caught you doing this once, last fall, and the routine she sent you through (‘come learn this with me, it’ll be fun’) taught you that you don’t have to know you have a muscle for it to hurt.
“Starting out or just getting back?” Steve’s voice asks.
You smile without turning around. “Can’t you tell from the damp, bedraggled hair?”
“I would never think to comment on such a thing,” he says gallantly.
“A king among men,” you pronounce.
“If so, I’m an absent ruler.” His tone makes you turn to look over your shoulder. Steve’s looking down at the ground with a wistful look on his face. He’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top, and the hem of the latter is folded, giving you a glimpse of the jut of his hipbone above the low waistband of the sweats. 
Your mouth goes dry before you turn back around, hoping he doesn’t mind if you have no idea what he just said. 
Steve mistakes your quick movement for unhappiness, it seems. “Sorry, it’s just-- I can’t help but imagine what they’re going through back there. Wondering where I am, inventing God knows what to get me back.”
Your entire blood volume crystalizes into ice at once, and you taste metal in your mouth. “What did you just say?”
Gold Steve (because, that’s who it is, there’s absolutely no doubt, which means… -!) comes over and leans a hip on the stone fence, facing you. “I know showing up here was an accident, but I feel responsible. There’s nothing I can do over here but take up space.” He looks down at his clothes and huffs out a frustrated breath. “Literally. I only fit into my own clothing.” He stops and leans over, slowly moving his hand back and forth about six inches away from your face. “Earth to Brigandine. You… do still call it ‘Earth’ here, right?”
“Very funny,” you say. “No, I’m-- I’m just… If just this once, my stupid he-- brain would shut up about the ways I’ve possibly screwed up, that would be great.” You widen your eyes and shrug, and the crinkled-eyes smile he offers in response makes that heart skip despite yourself. Which is the problem, the reason you were staying the heck away from these men. At least the words ‘head’ and ‘heart’ sound close enough that you haven’t given too much away. You hope. “Shit,” you sigh.
“Can I help?”
“Nope, not unless you want to tell me this is all a big prank involving you, yourself, and I, and I didn’t just mix the two of you up!” You pull the towel up from your shoulders and drape it over your face.
“Why would that be a--” Gold Steve falls silent. “Are you-- do you have feelings for him?”
You’d been hoping to avoid that question, but the thing that soothes it is that Gold Steve says ‘him.’ He knows that there are differences, he knows this isn’t his universe, and that’s how you know that there’s no trick. The Steve that you saw jogging earlier, the one who looked at you like someone beautiful? It was your Steve. The man you love.
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Next chapter...
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checkingoutforheroes · 9 months
Text
B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL
Part 3.
Avengers x fem!reader
Words: 2160
Synopsis: This takes place in Avengers: Age of Ultron. When The Avengers were at the rock bottom, Nick Fury and advised by Maria Hill, to initiate the B.A.B.Y Protocol. Will a young, damaged and broke girl agree to this initiative and help a team to save this planet earth?
Part 2. 
Main Masterlist.
Everyone go on their separate ways after dinner. Clint hit the gym, stretching some muscle for tomorrow. Steve and Thor are planning or finding any possible ways on how take down the talking machine. Wanda probably taking a shower, Tony and Bruce are still arguing in the lab about something that only they know while I’m singing, doing a little dance heading to Natasha’s room.
I about to knock the door when I hear a woman voice. “It’s open.” Natasha said without looking at the door but still acknowledge your present. “Sorry I don’t have any cute animal or flower pajamas for you kid.”
             “How do you know it’s me?” Sure she’s a master spy or assassin but still, you need to learn that one from her. She just smiling and sit on her bed, patting a space for you to sit next to her. “I can hear your singing and footsteps you know. You can do better than that.”
             “In my defense, I wasn’t going to stalk you, or on a mission to be quiet.”
“So, you’re not here for the pj’s.”
             “I’m too old for pj’s.”
“Tony still wears one.” She smirks.
             “He is Tony. He even has his own pj’s brand. I sleep in my donut uniform. I’m pretty sure everyone of you guys have your own pj’s. It’s quite some time since we talk.”
             “Yeah.” She’s looking at you one hand rubs your head down to your shoulder. “How’ve you been Y/n?”
             “I’ve been, okay. I guess.” You just shrug.
 “You’ll get used to it. All you need is time and diversion. We kind of have a similar past. It’s just something that we have to do. Those who are innocents, are collateral damaged. You can’t change that. Every time we want to do the right thing, good thing or making things right again, there will definitely someone or something that will be sacrificed.”
             “I never told you my past.”
“Where do you think I’ve been on my free time? Clint and I do know what you’ve been up to.”
             “All of them?”
She smiles. “Not all though. Maybe once, twice a year. We see that you handle it pretty well for someone your age. The fire on that baby formula factory, impressive.” She laughing while your face is turning red, embarrassed on that occasion.
             “Oh god. Can we not talk about that factory? It was embarrassing.”
She keeps on teasing you. “Yeah? Like that bread store?”
             “Hey, they deserve it. They’re processing drugs. I’m just helped them fasten their operations. That’s all.”
             Natasha looks down at you. “By burning them?”
“That’s the only fast option that I had! Don’t point it at me. We both had a thing with fires and explosions. You know that.” We laugh a little bit, remembering those memories. “Hey. You be careful tomorrow okay? I want to be in but Maria told me to sit this one out first.”
She nods. “Yeah, I got that information Maria send it earlier. It’s okay, we can handle this. I hope. If something goes wrong, you’re the best backup we ever have. You’re young. You still have a long life journey ahead, don’t waste it, sis.”
You mumble something under your breath. “If I can life that long.” Natasha tilt her head to you and frowning. “Why did you say that?”
You feel so damn stupid and panic right now. You need to do something to change the topic. Being stupid, you held up her widow bites. “Hey, is that new?!”
             “Y/n. You know that is widow bite.” She watches you strangely.
“Really? I already know that? Oh yeah. Of course I know. Duh.”
             “What are you hiding?”
“Its not made to kill right? Just knock them off.”
             “I suggest you put it back down and tell me, what are you hiding.” Natasha said calmly but that doesn’t help your panic. Of course you’re not listening to her and do something stupid again by bringing it close to your face.
“True or false? This thing is no-“ You feel your body has been jolted and electrified. You can’t think of anything but you do feel the pain and electric moves through your veins straight to your heart. Yes, that is so much worse than lying to your big sister figure.
             “Great. Y/n!!” Natasha didn’t catch you while you are falling because the electric can be transfer to her to if she catches you. She grabs and toss her widow bite away from you and calling your name a few times when your body hit her carpet. If it was on normal person, that person will wake up in 10 or 20 seconds so while she waited, she grabs her leather suit and rub it on your body to diffuse the shock. Natasha calls you again. “Y/n, Baby. Wake up. Hey, you can wake up now, it’s okay. You’re okay. Y/n? Y/N??!!” She keeps on rubbing her suit on your skin. “It’s not funny Baby. Why are you-?”
She hears something beeping. The source not coming from her phone or her suit. She hears it again and she looks at you. Natasha bring her ear close to your abdomen and stop at you left chest. Then it clicks her. Its coming from your heart. Now, she’s a little bit more panic. She unbuttons two button from the shirt you’re wearing to see what exactly happening and she see medical scar and it’s a little bit bulging on the area. Natasha pick you up while Jarvis already alert the whole team when it senses someone heart rate in the team is on dangerous level.
Tony and Bruce are the first one arrive at the medical area since they’re just in their lab, next to it. Clint sees Natasha running, halfway to the medical area, he takes you from her arm and keep on running without asking a single question. Steve and Wanda follow close behind. “What happened?” Steve ask while running and Natasha didn’t even answer him and keep running.
Clint put you on the table. Electrocardiography or Holter monitor and Defibrillator are on standby. “Her heart beeping. Been unconscious around 4 minutes.” Natasha told Tony and Bruce. “Take off her shirts. Jarvis, run full diagnostic and internal image on left chest area, stat.” Jarvis do everything that Tony asked. “Right away sir. Full diagnostic running, I suggest that everybody leave the room for a moment until the CT Scan is done.”
Thor is the las one arrive and he meet them outside the room. “Who’s sick?” Wanda answer him because Tony, Bruce, Natasha and Clint busy discussing something. “Baby. Something about her heart.” Thor ask her again. “Can you read her?” She shaking her head. “No. I can’t if I didn’t touch or being near her.” “Jarvis still running diagnostic and examine her.”
Meanwhile with the other four. Clint asking Natasha the whole story and she tells them. “She shot herself?” Bruce asked. “Unintended. She panicked about something after when I said something about long life journey. To keep from blowing up her secrets, she took my widow bite to create a diversion. Change the topic about our conversation.”
Bruce takes off his glasses. “It’s not radiation. Palladium?” Tony shake his head. “I don’t think so either.” “Allergies?” Clint ask and all eyes on him. “You know that kid doesn’t have allergies. She ate everything what’s given to her.” Clint agree on Natasha’s statement and nodding. “Right, right. Should we call Hill?” “I think it’s better wait and see if we can figure it out.” Steve suggested and ask Natasha. “That widow bite. What did it do?” “It provides electric shock enough to make a person unconscious. Usually it takes 10 to 20 seconds for someone to gain their consciousness but she took longer than that. Then, I heard the silence beeping.
“She need that again.” Thor said and all eye are on him, he continues “Your electric bullets equal to a small lightning right? She’s sick because of that right?” “Yes. So what’s your point big guy? Blame me even more that I did to myself?” Natasha’s tone is now changing at Thor’s question while he’s thinking how to explain it to them. This whole earth thing is still new to him but he understands of what happen.
             “How do I explain this? A’ha! Okay. Like this place, this building goes dark. Then Tony will find that switch on the big box or that disembodied voice do something to bring it back on. Got it?” He happily told them then one by one of them gets it.
             “Bulging and beeping…” Natasha recalled.
“Widow’s bite…” Tony added.
             “Recharge.” Bruce pointing at Thor for his explanation earlier. “Battery!!” Natasha and Tony stated. “Tony, do you have-“ Tony beats Natasha’s sentence and running out and thank Thor “I’m going to take it! Good job Point Break!!” “Glad to help.” He smiling proudly and playfully punch Steve’s bicep. Wanda still processing their conversation. “What he’s going to take?” “Back up power source.” Thor’s smiling and Steve ask for confirmation “A generator?”
They both earns a glare from Natasha. “Defibrillator device or something.” She said.
Bruce try to correct her. “It’s an implantable cardioverter-defibrillator (ICD). Its specialized designed to-“ 
“Oh hush! I’m not a doctor.” Natasha grumbled and walking back inside the room when Jarvis said it was clear to enter.  
Three hours later, you are awake and the first person you see is Natasha. Sitting on a chair next to your left side. She notices your head moving and stand to have a better look at you. “You alright?” You remember what happened earlier before and try to joke about it but she did not find it funny. “Damn, that thing sting. You should name it widow zap!” She furrows her eyebrow. “That thing only zap on who have a heart condition. Normal people doesn’t have to go on surgery. I’ll tell Maria what happened and you are not going in any mission.”
“But I’m here to help.”
“That’s because they don’t know! We don’t know!”
“I’m doing whatever I can to help this earth.”
“Don’t you understand? You could get yourself kill! Clint and I agree. You sit this one out and we’ll send you home. We’ll find the best doctor for your treatment.”
“Now you care?”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t get to make a decision for me Nat. You and Clint both! Not after left me alone without a damn note!” Your eyes starting to tear.
“Took down The Red Room and kill Dreykov was the final step in my defection to S.H.I.E.L.D! Free the others. They can do whatever they want or how to live on their own.”
“It’s 2006. I was 13!!” You shout at her. “Bold of you assume they all live. He doesn’t let a single soul of widow breathing since you take off. I consider myself one of lucky bastard. My age was too young to go through the experimentation. The rest, either success or dispose the fail subject. And you’ve been missing.”
“I, I didn’t know.” She sits on the edge of your bed.
“No notes, no massage, no letter, nothing! I look for you everywhere I can. Two years later I found out you work for S.H.I.E.L.D. You know how happy I am when they took me in? To finally be close to you. Work with the same organization. You are the only person that I know for my whole life.” You’re smiling. Remembering that day. “We met at the academy, you introduced me to Clint. He’s a nice guy. When I feel like whole again, you two left.” Your smile fades.
Natasha wipes a single tear that falling on her cheek. “I didn’t know.”
You softly look at her and hold her hand. “But it’s you Nat. You always know. You always have plans. I tried to figure it out. Think what is in our mind, what’s the plan? I can’t.”
“Maybe I don’t always have plans.”
You trying to lighten up the mood. “Different people, different path. Yeah, you’re young too. That time.” You smirking and see her reaction. “Why are you smirking? Are you saying that I’m old?” Jarvis voice echoing the medical room. “Miss Romanoff, Captain Rogers require your presents at the hanger 30 minutes before take-off.”
“I guess that’s your call. I’m going to take a nap.” You sadly said, knowing she have to leave again.
She hugs and rubs your back. “I wish we had more time. You, don’t do anything stupid. Have a lot of rest. When I’m back, we’ll discuss about finding your doctor.” You smiling hearing someone said that to you. “You know I’m not a kid, right? I’ve survived before.”
“I’m gonna make it up to you. So shut up and sleep.” She pushes your head down to the pillow and tuck you in.
“Nat?”
“Ehmm?”
“Don’t die.”
“You too. We’ll see you when we’re back.”
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nighthoundsworld · 12 days
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As I now feel like the main pioneer for the Next Avengers fandom I’m gonna start something (that’s probably not gonna be consistent) called Head-canon that’s probably 1000% true and todays Topic is on the very awkward subject for our Next Avengers ✨PARENTS✨ specifically Mothers
#1 James and Francis are complete Mamas Boys without a doubt so this post will be about them. Now not saying they don’t love their dads because they do………but come on now if I had a mom that looked like this I’d be a mamas boy as well
(James)
#2 James wears a Red hourglass necklace around his neck and never removes it because it was the last thing Natasha gave to him before she went to fight Ultron and ultimately died (This is the new canon because I said so, so if our Next Avengers come back in mainstream media expect this to be a thing)
#3 The Day Steve and Natasha left to fight Ultron which lead to their deaths Natasha was forced to inject James with a syringe that had sleeping medication because he wouldn’t stop screaming and crying and wouldn’t let go of Natasha mind you that at the time James was only 3 which grew his fears of Needles
#4 The only Picture James has of his Parents is them dancing at their wedding, it’s the only picture he has and he stops himself for looking for more because every second he spends looking at that picture reminds him of what he lost and what he’s never able to get back
#5 Although James is Captain America’s son and he’s held at such a high regard and given such respect he acts more like Natasha. His hairs the same shade of red, He leans more towards the spy in him than the goodie two shoes solider, his hero costumes primary color is a red and Black jacket with a star etc overall he leans more towards Natasha in the personality department
#6 James biggest secret that no one knows but him is he knows Ballet, he practiced in secret for years and perfected the craft and everyday he ends his day by looking at a Russian Ballerina Music Box and watches it twirl as he thinks about her
(Francis)
#7 let’s get this out the way right now Francis was not planned 😂 LOL He was an accident Baby that Clint and Bobbi made on their 3rd Honeymoon but never the doubt the idea of Abortion never once crossed their minds as they agreed that little Francis was gonna be there’s 100%
#8 Francis being the only one who actually was able to live a portion of his life with his Parents Bobbi tried her hardest to give him some sort of normalcy in hiding with the Freedom Fighters (or whatever they were called) she taught him all the basic things and even made a small area for him where she’s read him bed stories every night and promise him a better future
#9 Bobbi’s nickname for Francis was “Her Little Birdy” or “Franky”
#10 evidently when Bobbi’s death came Francis was 10 years old. A group of Ultron bot’s found their base and she led the fight to stall while Clint helped everyone evacuate. She gave Francis her Goggles and made him promise that no matter what never loose hope in fighting to save the day before Eventually Clint was forced to carry Francis away leaving the boy to watch as the last time he saw his Mother she was fighting for her life in which she ultimately lost
#11 Francis keeps a picture of Bobbi in his pocket at all times so he never forgets his Mom’s face along with the fact that he never takes off his goggles the least he’ll do is just rest them upon his head hiding them within his hair
#12 he customized his Bow so that it can turn into a Bow Staff along with two separate Batons the same Bobbi used as he trained himself with the art of the Bow Staff in honor of her. He also carved out a small Mockingbird within his Bow for her
#13 every year on her Birthday he leaves flowers and one of the children’s books she read to him at her Grave where he talks to her and gives her a recap of what happened in the past year promising her he’d never give up fighting for what’s right
Overall these two are complete Mamas Boys and again like I said I don’t blame them look at who their moms are
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gunsandspaceships · 3 months
Text
Review of some anti-Tony comments I saw on Ao3. Part 2
https://archiveofourown.org/works/52704154/chapters/133310575
I'm back with a new episode. Hope you are excited. I am. "Pepper told Tony to save universe". Ok, this time we are going to travel a little bit in the future from Civil War – what are we going to see in Avengers Endgame? The dialogue starts at 0:41:50. Tony just invented a controlled time travel and put his daughter to bed. But we should probably take a closer look at why he invented it, and then we’ll return to Pepper. Tony lost Peter, who was like a son to him, and we will return to that later, cause we have some statements about Peter here. He felt guilt because of that. In Spider Man Homecoming he said to him “… if you died… I feel like that’s on me” (1:21:20). Let’s get back even further, to Age of Ultron and look at what Tony sees when Wanda plays with his mind – his greatest fear – Thanos’ army conquered Earth, Avengers are dead, he couldn’t save them (0:10:20). He carries this fear through the Infinity Saga, like a prophecy. Peter’s life is added to that after he met him. And in Infinity War the prophecy partially comes true, half of the universe and Peter are dead. Peter knew Tony will feel guilt, and said “I’m sorry” while dissipating into dust (2:15:30). So, what do we have here: Tony’s greatest fear came true, he is devastated. He feels like it’s all on him. He has a nervous breakdown once back to Earth, and then we will see him only 5 years later. But we do know what he was doing those years – he was studying time travel. He was a physicist, but not an expert in that specific field before. We see him confidently talking about the topic with Scott, Steve and Nat in the Endgame (0:34:20). Then the same day he sees Peter’s photo (0:39:25) and tries to do tests again. Test time travel models. Why again? Because he already has everything ready for it: knowledge, instruments and a lot of failed tests, which we can infer from the scene (0:39:35) and from what he said to others at 0:34:20. At 0:39:35 he said “I’ve got a mild inspiration. I’d like to see if it checks out”. Means he wasn’t truly honest with the team – he thought about time travel before and tried to invent/discover it. He is not starting from scratch in that scene. Memories of Peter gave him an idea, and he succeeded this time. Conclusion: Tony didn’t need others saying him to save the dusted. Like he always did before, he tried to solve the problem on his own. Let’s finally move forward to Pepper, who “said him to save the world”. You are stating that “Tony was trying to refuse saving the dusted”. As we already discovered he did want to return them. He tried to do so. Now he has the solution. He looks at his daughter and wife, and understands that there is a chance that he will lost them, or die. He goes to Pepper not for permission to stay, but for permission to go. We are back at 0:41:50 and what Tony is doing here – he is trying to convince himself not to do it “Something tells me I should put it in a lockbox and drop it to the bottom of the lake and go to bed” (0:42:57), but Pepper knows him, that he will not stop and will not be able to live with it. She says “But would you be able to rest?”. He needed her permission. Basically to risk them, and to die. Let’s go to the last scene of this review – 0:46:20. Here again Tony shows his expertise in time travel physics saying what is going on with Banner’s time travel attempt. Then he is saying “I just want peace. Turns out resentment is corrosive, and I hate it.” He is not saying “Pepper sent me to save the world”. It’s him. He brought himself because it is who he is. And he just can’t do any other way.
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cassieb1617 · 2 years
Text
Voice like honey and a sweet Smile💌
Pairing: Steve Rogers x f!reader
Fluff/slight angst
Summary: Steve Rogers fell in love with your smile.
Warnings: overuse of the word ‘worried’;language I think; small angst; insecure!Steve; black widow!reader; small mentions of parents giving up their kid but it’s only one sentence; let me know if there are more
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Steve Roger thought in the 40’s way even if he now lived in the 21st century. In 1940 you fell in love once and that love stays forever. He thought that that was life. He fell in love with Peggy Carter and then he was frozen for 70 years. He woke up and was still in love with her and he thought that was it. But, dear Lord, he was so wrong when he first saw you smiling.
He first met you when he joined the Avengers and New York was under attack. He saw you talking to Phil Coulson and later found out you were also apart of the, at that time not so functioning, team. Natasha Romanoff was the one who introduced you to another and when you were saying your name, god your voice was like honey, you smiled. That smile was so sweet and in that moment he wondered how a person with such an sweet smile could possibly be apart of a job so cruel. But then he saw you kicking ass, having a very similar skillset like Natasha and he was smitten. He didn’t know if he just had a thing for women who could end him.
The missions you had together were his favourite because of your sweet smile. Somehow you managed to always light up the mood even when missions started to get out of hand. For example when Steve, Natasha, Sam and you were taking down SHIELD and HYDRA you managed to bring the four of them hope. And your smile, my god, he fell in love with it. When it came out that the Winter Soldier was actually his old best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, you went through all of that with him. You smiled and he felt better. He swore that you put him under some kind of spell. Natasha, being herself, teased him endlessly for that. In her words he was a simp for you and by the time you all were defeating Ultron he had fallen completely in love with you and his feelings for Peggy died down.
Peggy may be his first love but he was sure you were the one of his life.
When the big fight between the Avengers broke out you were on his side, having quite a similar opinion upon choices and rights, but you still tried to stop them from actually fighting against each other. Tony and Steve were both stubborn to no end and you knew it but you still hoped that you could stop this. It was to no end, though, because only hours later you were on the run with Steve, Bucky getting help from Wakanda.
You stayed in contact with Natasha and he knew that. After getting to know you better he found out that the two of you grew up together and were practically sisters. Being in the redroom together but not fighting each other because you were three years younger. He also got to know that you had a little sister, not biologically but still, her name is Yelena. He also learned that you knew Bucky from the redroom. He had trained the widows in fighting and also in English, apparently you grew close and Bucky remembered you when he saw you again in Romania together with Steve.
When Steve finally got the courage to ask you out and to tell you how he fell in love with you in every way possible, Natasha stood infront of the house you were in at the moment with a picture. In the picture were three young girls; one with blue, short hair; one with blond hair and an never ending smile; and a (y/h/c)-haired one with a shy smile on her face, hiding behind the other two. He noticed that it was you, probably with Natasha and Yelena as he began to connecting the dots. Natasha explained that it was Yelena who sent this, being the only other possibility than you considering you three had all a part of one big photostripe.
You wanted to stay with Steve, believe me you really wanted to, but if there is the possibility of more widows being in training you couldn’t let this go and you told the same thing to Steve while packing a few things in a bag. “I have to go Steve, I owe that everyone, I owe it Yelena.” You desperately tols him. “Please, understand.” Steve’s heart broke a little at the tears in your eyes but of course he understood, how could he not.
“Stay safe, will you?” He told you gently while holding you in a hug and you nodded. “You too, Nat.” And she teasingly smiled at him and nodded. “I take care of her, don’t worry.” She whispered to him when he took her in a short hug too and then you were off.
Steve was worried to no end. You were gone for a while now and he was glad he didn’t see a single news page that said that two Avengers were found dead but he wasn’t happy either. He hadn’t heard of you and he worried that you might’ve gotten yourself killed. He was constantly pacing, cleaning something up, making plans or trying or relax just so that he didn’t have to think about you and something bad happening.
And then there was someone knocking, once, twice, a third time and then a rythm and he knew it was you. It was something you both invented in case you got split up. Steve rushed to the door and he stilled upon seeing you. You had a cut above your eyebrow and there was blood on your side. You wore a white fighting outfit and had a grey vest over your body but you still looked gorgeous. “Hi, is that the senior home? I’m searching for an old man, blond to brown hair, has a thing for doing the right thing, stubborn, great body and probably a bit annoying too?” Your voice showed your exhaustion but you smiled that sweet smile at him and he melted. “Hilarious.” And with that he took you in his arms, walking backwards and closing the door as soon as he could.
“You’re safe. Oh, you’re safe I was so worried.” He mumbled that over and over in your hair, showing just how much you leaving effected him. “I’m safe, Steve, of course I am.” You comforted him upon feeling tears on you from him and squeezed him just a bit more. He got back out of your arms, just to hold you at arms length and looked you over. His eyes settling on the blood on your clothes. “It’s not mine, it’s from on of the agents there.” You explained. He led you to the couch and you watched him walking around. “Did you clean?” He looked up at you from his bag and nodded slightly, blushing a bit. You laughed. Of course he cleaned up. “Had to distract me a bit. Was so worried that you’d get hurt.” He threw you a shirt and sweatpants of him, then your bag and told you to wait as you wanted to make your way to shower. He took the first-aid kit. “You have a cut.” You wanted to protest but seeing him so vulnerable made you stop. He was worried and if that makes him sure you’re okay, you let him do whatever he needed to.
“I was so worried that you got hurt or worse. Everytime I saw the newspaper I expected to see something along the lines of ‘two Avengers found dead’ or something like that. You have no idea. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He expressed his fears and he didn’t stop talking. Not even when you wanted to tell him you’re okay and that it takes a lot more to kill you. “Everytime I thought: ‘what is if she’s dead?’ And everytime I thought about how I didn’t get to tell you.” At that you had to stop him.
“Didn’t get to tell me what?” He didn’t answer but he looked like a deer caught in headlights. “What do you want to tell me, Steve?” He stuttered for a bit and avoided eye contact. “Steve? You know you can tell me.” Insecurities came up in him. His whole life he was rejected or not even looked at by women. He got beaten up and god knows what else and then there was Peggy Carter but she isn’t alive anymore and he, quite frankly, wasn’t in love with her anymore. And then there was you. You’re gorgeous, intelligent, can kick ass like no other and he fell in love with you amd your smile. So, despite the little voice in the back of his brain telling him not to, he spilled everything.
“I’m in love with you. God, I’m so in love with you, your smile and the way your nose crinkled whenenever you laugh or the way care for everyone around you despite your past it-I just fell in love-“ you had to suppress a smile at the way he flushed red under your gaze. “-with you so badly. I didn’t know I could feel something so strong for someone.” He ended breathless and looked at you waiting for a reaction but saw nothing but amusement and he thought he crossed the line, that you would start laughing at him every minute but you didn’t. You just sat there. “Finished?” You asked him teasingly and he nodded, a bit too fast and you worried his head may falls off. Steve was still waiting for any other reaction but he didn’t expect you to kiss him. “I waited so long for you to tell me that.” And Steve kissed you right back.
That day may have been one of the best he ever had. When you both calmed down you laid beside him on the couch, both of you fresh showered, together may I add, in his clothes. He asked you about what happened and you told him. You told him about how you met Yelena again and how angry she was. About how worried you were that she would hate you now and that you met the only parents you ever truly had again. You told him that you found out that your biological parents gave you up, not wanting a daughter and about how sad you felt when Melina, the woman who raised you for three years, told you that. You also told him about how Natasha has blonde hair now after losing a bet between you three and that you missed him while you were away and how you took down the redroom, freed the widows and killed Dreykov and his men with your family. And he told you he was happy you were happy. And that he was proud that you got to fight your demons.
And in that moment everything was alright despite the current circumstances.
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there-goes-thefighter · 11 months
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No Good At Goodbyes - (s.l.) (part 8)
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This is my fic. Please do not repost this (reblogs are good). Do not copy my writing. Do not steal my writing. All rights are reserved for my writing and my original character(s).
MCU Masterlist
Series Masterlist
(warnings: swearing, mention of killing, brief mention of bombing)
(pairing: Scott Lang x f!reader)
(gif credit: @/wadey-wilson)
(word count: 1k)
“Every last one?” Bucky asked her, looking into her eyes and hoping she’d say no. He didn’t want her to kill him. 
Tears threatened to spill as she admitted, “No. The last one he wants dead is John.”
“Fuck!” John exclaimed. 
Taking advantage of the moment, (y/n) slipped the mask back on. She drew her gun, pointing and shooting at John. The bullet hit him between the eyes, and he was dead as soon as he hit the ground. 
The recent memory haunted Scott. He was terrified of who his girlfriend had suddenly become. He was afraid he was losing her. He distracted himself by packing and moving into the house they’d purchased together. Bucky stuck around, helping Scott move.
— 
“I could use your help, Nat. I think I really hurt Scott.” 
(y/n) sat in front of Natasha Romanoff’s grave, having a one-sided conversation with her. 
“I, um, I finished a mission for Zemo. Remember him? You probably don’t. He was the one that framed Bucky for the bombing of the UN,” she looked at the headstone as if Natasha would answer, “Anyway, he wanted me to kill John Walker. I did it, but I think I lost Scott in the process.” 
She fiddled with the blades of grass on the ground, picking out a few and twisting them in her fingers. 
“Scott’s argument made sense, though. I went behind his back and worked for the bad guy. Well, he didn’t really choose to be the bad guy. Everyone kinda put that label on him,” she paused, “There I go again, making excuses for Zemo.”
— 
“She’s hurt too, Scott.” 
“She isn’t reliving the same nightmare every night!”
“Do you know what she said after you went in the house?” Bucky asked, setting a box down on the floor. 
“What?” Scott quietly asked.
“She told me she figured you’d say the same thing you said to her even if she’d told you everything before it happened. She knew the outcome. She thought she was doing something good for both sides. Killing John got him out of our hands, and for Zemo, it was one less supersoldier. She defended Zemo because she agreed with him to a point. She didn’t want him to hate the Avengers, especially the ones who had nothing to do with Ultron. In a way, she was saving you by keeping you out of it.”
Scott absorbed Bucky’s words. He realized he misunderstood why she did it. 
“I gotta find her.” 
Bucky hesitated a moment, “I know where she is.”
Scott looked up at Bucky, a flicker of hope in his eyes. If there was a chance to fix this, he’d take it. 
Scott leaned against a tree, watching (y/n) as she talked to Natasha’s grave. He was far away enough that she couldn’t see him, but close enough to hear her. He wanted to make himself known, but her next words broke his heart. 
“I just miss him, Nat. I wish he could see why I did it. Just tell me everything will be okay,” she said, sniffling and wiping away a few stray tears. 
Scott took a deep breath and walked up to stand next to her.
“Bucky told me everything.”
She jumped at Scott’s sudden appearance, “Holy shit you scared me.”
“Sorry. Bucky told me I could find you here.”
“Just needed a little girl talk.”
Scott sat beside her and took her hand in his, “I misunderstood why you did it. I realized once Bucky explained it that you were pushing me away to save me.”
“Scott, you don’t have to–”
“Yes, I do,” he said firmly, “I misunderstood and I lashed out before I gave you a chance to explain.”
Tears flooded her eyes again as she looked into his eyes. There was promise and honesty in his eyes. 
“Let’s start our retirement off right, honey. Let’s go home.”
Scott drove back to the house they bought. (y/n) was confused when Scott missed the exit to go to the cabin, but he told her not to worry about it. 
“Just close your eyes.”
“I don’t know about this.”
“Baby, just do it,” Scott laughed.
A little while later, Scott slowed down to pull into the driveway. 
“Okay, we’re home.” 
Scott helped her out of the car and told her to open her eyes. (y/n) opened them, seeing the house she and Scott had bought, “Wait, you moved us in?”
“I had a little help,” Scott admitted, pointing up to the second floor. 
“I’m so glad you’re home! When’s dinner?” Bucky yelled from the window. 
Scott and (y/n) laughed at Bucky’s quip as he disappeared from the window. He made his way downstairs, greeting the couple on the porch. 
“Welcome home, guys.”
“Thanks, Buck.” 
Scott and (y/n) didn’t have much food stocked yet, so they settled on ordering pizza. Bucky had been invited down, considering he didn’t have much food yet either. The doorbell rang a little earlier than they expected, but (y/n) got up to answer the door. 
“Sam,” she said, seeing her fellow Avenger on the other side. 
“Hey. Bucky said you ordered too much pizza.”
She looked at Bucky, who was seated on the couch, and all he did was smile. 
“Come on in, Sam,” she welcomed. 
The four Avengers laughed and joked around over their first real dinner together. (y/n) was happy to be surrounded by her best friends, and found comfort in knowing the love of her life was one of them. She found beauty in it. 
(y/n) was grateful that everything had been settled and forgiven. She kept it to herself, but she thought that her visiting Natasha had something to do with it. 
Scott and (y/n) locked their suits and gear in the basement. They’d keep them as a remembrance of the past, but hoped they wouldn’t need them again. 
But a certain purple mask, dark coat, and gun were hidden where Scott would never find them.
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nyxlaufeyson · 8 months
Text
Zappy goes Zap
Main Masterlist - Marvel Oneshots - Loki Oneshots
POV: Third
Ship: Nothing mentoined. Includes Tony & Original Fem Character and Loki & Original Fem Character
Type: Fluff!
Wordcount: 809
TW: None
Synopsis: A scientist at Avenger's tower creates a new robot.
Day 8 of AU-gust*: "Robots & Androids" * Not entirely sure if this even counts as an 'AU' since she's an OC, but whatever it's an AU because I ignored cannon.
A/N: I love entering my OCs into different universes it's so fun! Hope you enjoy. :)
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“Whatcha working on there, Buzz?” Tony asked, walking over to Buzzy, who was immersed in her work. Startled, she jumped up from her spot, grabbing a screwdriver and pointing it towards Tony in defense. “Woah there, Buzz, it’s just me.” 
Once she realized her visitor was Tony, and not some scoundrel, she relaxed a bit, dropping the screwdriver on her workbench. “Just a new bot. Named this one Zappy, because of all the sparks he’s thrown my way while working on ‘em.”
Buzzy patted her project on her desk, smiling proudly. In her smile, you could see that she had a gap on her top row of teeth, where she had accidentally knocked a tooth or two out while working. 
“What’s he for?” Tony asked, examining the robot in front of him. The bot was made from several different materials, giving it a unique look. While one might not see the bot as more than pieces of scrap, Buzzy liked the look. She thought it gave Zappy more style than most modern robots.
“He’s a patrol bot. My goal for him is to have him roam around somewhere, then scan his surroundings with this little thing,” She pointed to a camera on the bot, “And he will report any malicious acts back to us.”
Tony nodded, scratching his beard as he considered the idea. “So, similar to what I was doing with Ultron?” He asked, a bit concerned since the last time he attempted a public safety robot, it didn’t go so well. 
“Nope. While Zappy is intended to increase public safety, he won’t be equipped with anything to fight. He just will alert us, or local authorities depending on what’s going on. He couldn’t do anyone harm.” Buzzy assured, before tilting her head as she changed her mind. “Unless he happened to blow up. That would probably hurt.” 
Tony raised his eyebrows, but Buzzy shook off the hypothetical. “Of course, he will be going through many more tests before he goes out into the city. So, if he does blow up, it’ll only blow us up.”
Tony rolled his eyes, rubbing his forehead. “How reassuring.” Buzzy smirked, and pulled her safety goggles back down on her face. 
“Wanna see me run some tests?” She asked Tony, while someone else walked into the room. When Buzzy saw who it was, she narrowed her eyes. “Uh-uh horns, hair up in my lab. You know the rules.”
Buzzy grabbed a hair tie-for she always had several on hand-and tossed it to Loki, who rolled his eyes before reluctantly pulling his hair up into a ponytail with a huff. 
“What are you working on?” He asked, walking up to Buzzy and Tony. Buzzy just smiled, tapping her fingers against the workbench. 
“Wanna find out?” She asked, and before Loki could answer, she pointed over to the bucket where she kept her safety goggles. “Get a pair. You too, Tony.” 
After Loki and Tony had successfully secured their safety goggles, Buzzy began to make some last-minute adjustments to Zappy. “Tony, can you hand me the RJ45 over there?”
Tony grabbed the connector, handing it to Buzzy as she finished up before flipping a few switches on the bot and on a controller. “Ideally, we would have him operate on his own, but that will take a bit more programming,” She explained, “So for now I’m just going to use this controller.” 
Buzzy set Zappy on the ground, giving him a good-luck pat before she took a step back. “Here goes.” She whispered, starting to move the controls. 
At first, the robot did exactly as she wanted, moving in its intended direction with each pull of the controller’s joystick. “Loki, pretend to stab Tony.”
Loki smirked, while Tony looked terrified. “Wait, what?” He said, as Loki summoned a dagger and held it up to Tony. Buzzy stepped out of the way, allowing the robot to scan the pair behind her. 
The robot made a few noises, before sending an alert to Buzzy’s computer. “Yes!” She said, but before she could go to switch the robot off, a loud bang knocked her, Tony, and Loki to their feet. 
Buzzy slowly sat up, coughing as she waved her hand to attempt to clear the smoke around her. She heard Tony and Loki groan as they got up as well. 
Buzzy frowned as she looked at the pile of metals that had once been Zappy. Tony and Loki weren’t sure what to say, so they began to offer their condolences for the bot.
“It’s fine.” She said, waving her friends off as she grabbed a pair of gloves and picked up the pile of scraps, laying them back on her workbench. “He started from this, so he can be rebuilt.” Buzzy said, confidently. 
“Hopefully, this time, you’ll be able to prevent it from blowing us all up.” 
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A/N: BTW There's always a chance for an OC I make a oneshot or something for to return in the future, so always be on the lookout!
Tag list (Tell me if you want to be added/removed and what you would like to be added/removed for!): @anukulee @mischief-dream @iceeericeee
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babyjakes · 2 years
Text
forever and a day | 21. wounded.
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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.
characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)
warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of the aftermath of child abuse/neglect (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). mentions/descriptions of past CSA and CSM. medical abuse��and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.somewhat evil!Tony Stark (eventually).
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[Steve]
As soon as the little girl’s bright green eyes meet mine, she lets out a muffled sob, twisting her body sideways to shield her wound from me. Glancing around anxiously, she searches for an escape, but finds none other than the doorway I’m standing in. Curling her little knees up towards her chest, she lets out a cry of pain, her head falling in defeat. Taking an instinctive step towards her, I try to open my mouth to say something, but for a moment my entire body feels frozen in shock.
What happened to her side? Did she do this to herself? What am I supposed to do?
After a few more seconds of processing all of my racing thoughts, I snap out of my daze, my heart shattering in my chest as Girl continues to weep helplessly before me. As slowly and carefully as I can, I begin to approach the wounded child, bending my knees down and holding my hands flat out in front of me in hopes of making myself seem like less of a threat. Girl peers over at me, her pink cheeks soaked with tears. When her eyes begin fluttering, her body jerking harshly against the wall behind her, I don’t even need to ask; I can tell by her face that she’s remembering the last time she saw me, the memory of the agent’s face being pounded in flashing through her terrified mind. Glancing back at me, the child whimpers, her little voice coming out broken and desperate, “Please, please don’t. Sorry, please. Please, wait- d-don’t hurt Girl.”
Softening my gaze at the little girl, I shake my head reassuringly. “I’m not here to hurt you,” I murmur softly, “honey, it looks like you’re injured. You’re bleeding, sweetheart. Please, please let me help you.” At this, Girl twists her shaking form further, pushing herself up against the wall as firmly as she can to try to keep the blood hidden away from me. But in the end, there’s nowhere to run. And I know that probably scares her more than anything. Her only way out would require her to pass me.
“Please, sorry,” Girl continues to plead as I take another step towards her, the space between us slowly closing. “N-no- wait, please.”
“Sweetheart, hey,” I coo, wishing I knew how to ease the little one’s fears. “It’s okay, Girl. You’re okay. I’m not gonna-” my voice cuts out as I feel something sticky beneath my shoe, prompting my gaze to fall to the trail of blood leading up to the quivering child.
“Sorry, r-really sorry- didn’t mean to, will clean it up, please,” Girl hiccups, her eyes widening at the sticky red liquid that’s been smeared across the tile floor. Pressing her hands further into her injured side, the girl winces, the sound of the balled-up tissue squelching against her bloody flesh causing me to wince.
“Girl, please let me help you. What happened, sweetie? Why are you bleeding like that?” I ask desperately, tears building in my eyes as I watch the poor kid writhe in pain.
“Sorry, please,” Girl sobs, her little feet kicking out in front of her under her knees that are still being held up close to her.
Pausing for another moment, I realize I’ve reached an impasse; talking the child through this isn’t seeming to be getting us anywhere fast. Aright now, without having any sort of idea what kind of wound could be producing all this blood or how long Girl’s been sustaining it, I don’t know how much time we have before she could very well bleed out right in front of me. Noting this, I sigh, deciding that even though I want to give Girl as much time and space as she needs, ultimately, time and space just aren’t a luxury we can afford right now.
Taking a deep breath, I forge the last several steps to the girl, finally lowering myself fully to my knees in front of her, only a few feet away from her shaking form. Girl slams herself against the wall again, this time, the side of her head knocking against it. “Hey, it’s okay,” I soothe quickly, not wanting her to hurt herself any further. “I’m not going to hurt you, doll. I promise, I pinky promise. Just… please, Girl. Please. I need to see it.”
The child ducks her head down fearfully at my words, not able to look at me. Getting no further response, I sigh again, knowing that I’m not going to be able to examine her injury without a decent amount of resistance.
As carefully as I can, I reach out my hands to the little girl. Her eyes widen at the movement, and she cowers back from them, but has no space left between her and the wall. Soft sounds of her breathing escalating fill the air. “Hey, shh, shh. Gentle, see?” I murmur, “gentle hands, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you. Nothing’s gonna hurt; I’m just gonna take a look at you, doll,” I tell her mildly, placing my hands on her shoulders and turning her body to face me. Girl lets out a pathetic whimper as I come in contact with her, tears dripping down her puffy cheeks. She tries to fight me, but as always, her weakened body is no match for my super-soldier strength. Her shoulder blades press back into the wall and her knees fall away lamely, her legs splaying out in front of her as she faces me, her hands still clutching her side as blood seeps through her fingers. “Sweetheart, what happened?” I ask breathlessly. The girl keeps her head down, not saying anything. Seeing my chance to finally find out what’s happened to her as she sits defeatedly before me, my hands move down and land on hers, and gently, I begin to pry them away from the blood source.
“W-wait, please,” Girl whimpers miserably, but it does little to stop me. Gathering both of her hands in one of mine, I use my other to gently remove the bloody tissue from the wound. Below it lies a relatively small opening, perfectly circular. Alarmingly deep, and as I look more closely, I can see a hint of metal flashing out from inside.
It’s a bullet wound.
“You got shot?” I all but yell, completely forgetting to soften my tone from the sheer shock of the discovery. Girl flinches back and her arms fly up in front of her face to shield herself from me; shaking inconsolably, she begins to cry harder, and I feel my body weakening, absolutely stunned by what I’ve found. “Oh my god, I-… sweetheart, I-… I had no idea. None of us did. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Th-thought you’d be mad.”
Guilt and heartbreak sweep over me as I stare at the gushing wound, tears building in the back of my eyes as I shakily reach up to tap in on my wire. “Bruce. I-I need you here, ASAP. We’re in- in the guestroom. Girl’s-… I-I-… she’s been shot. Please, hurry.”
Girl continues to sob as I wait for a response. After a few moments, there’s a buzz in my ear. “I’m on my way. What do you mean, she’s been shot? What the hell happened?”
“It-… back at the safe-house,” I reply. “I just found out. None of us knew.”
“Okay. I’ll be there soon. For now, just… apply pressure to the wound.” And then, with a break of the static, he’s gone. Sucking in a shallow breath, I force it out through my teeth. I can’t believe this happened. I can’t believe none of us knew.
Trying to shake off my shock for the sake of hopefully saving the little girl’s life, I turn and throw the bloody tissue in the trashcan, reaching up and taking one of the hand towels off of the towel rack. Returning in front of Girl, I fold it up, holding it firmly in my hand. “Okay, sweetheart. I need to press this into your side, okay? I’ll be as gentle as I can. It… it might hurt a little, honey. We just gotta try to slow the bleeding.”
I wish there were something else, anything else that we could do, but Bruce was right. A wound like this needs pressure. If it were on an arm or a leg, we could tourniquet it, but it’s her side; our options are limited. Girl whimpers at my words, squirming up against the wall. “Please, please don’t t-touch it, don’t touch it.” I sigh, hating that I have to do this. Inching closer, I reach out and scoop the child up in my arms. Thrashing about, she continues to beg. “Please, p-please! No, please, w-wait-”
Placing Girl on my lap with her back pressed up against my chest, I wrap one arm around and hold her under the armpits to keep her held close to me and still. My other arm brings the towel to her side, and though every ounce of my being hates what I’m about to do, I convince myself I must. Bracing for the little girl’s protests, I press down, hard. Girl lurches at the contact, letting out a sharp cry of pain. A tear trails down my cheek as I hold her steadily, pressing the fabric into the tender wound.
“I know it hurts, I know. Shhh, it’s okay- I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so, so sorry.” I don’t know what else to say; I know that the only thing running through her mind is that I’m hurting her. She was scared that I would, and now I am. But I have to; what else can I do?
“Please, stop, s-stop!” the wailing child begs.
“Honey, we-… we have to stop the bleeding,” I try to explain, “it’s okay, shh-shh shhh.” Girl sobs, hanging against my arm that’s holding her up. “You’re okay, kiddo,” I continue to soothe through my own tears. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
As I’m finishing my sentence, Bruce bursts through the door, looking just as panicked as I feel. He hurries over, crouching down in front of us. “Oh god,” he exhales.
“No, p-please,” Girl cries at the sight of the doctor, struggling against my firm grip around her.
“We need to get her down to medical,” Bruce decides. “Can you carry her?” I nod without a word.
As the dark-haired man stands before us, I lift the child up in my arms, holding her close to me as I continue to apply pressure. “Please, n-no,” she whines, tears continuing to trail down her cheeks as we hurry out of her bathroom and room, eventually making our way down the hallway. When we reach the lounge, we’re met with shock from the group sitting at the sofas. Peter rises to his feet, a look of alarm spreading across his face.
“Oh my god- what happened?” he asks.
“Bruce, what the hell?” Nat adds.
Bruce is busy hitting the elevator button, though, and when he turns back to address the group, the doors slide open. Peter hurries up and joins us in the elevator. Girl’s now sobbing loudly against my shoulder; I wish I could reach up and stroke her hair, but my hands are full. “You’re okay, shh, shh,” I coo, gently swaying her from side to side in attempts to soothe her painful cries.
As soon as we land on the floor for medical, we’re all rushing out of the elevator in a blur and nearly running down the long white hallway. Bruce turns into the first exam room on the right, and I follow, Peter trailing close behind.
“Get her on the bed,” Bruce demands, flinging open the cabinets and beginning to pull out various medical supplies. Trying to keep the towel pressed to her side, I gently set the little girl down on the mattress. The child twists and turns slightly, appearing too weak to even sit up to try to escape. Bruce takes the cloth from me and lifts it up, revealing the wound. “Jesus christ,” he mumbles, turning back to get his tools ready.
As Peter stands anxiously to the side, I let out a puff of air, practically collapsing down on the edge of the bed as I reach out and brush Girl’s hair out of her face. She looks at me, her bottom lip wobbling in fear. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re gonna fix you up, make you all better. You’re okay, you’re gonna be just fine,” I promise her. Bruce continues to prep his gear, and a question pops up in my head as I stare into the little girl’s watery eyes. “Girl,” I begin, sucking in a breath. “You got hit by a shot that went through the bed?” She nods. “Then why-… how come we couldn’t hear you? Why didn’t you-… how did-… sweetheart, how did you keep from screaming?”
Girl’s quiet for a moment, as if she doesn’t want to tell me. Then, her expression falls, and her voice comes out sounding more gutted and defeated than ever.
“You said t-to be quiet.”
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starvels · 2 years
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From the anon the prompted and loved your “AI Tony and Ghost Steve have an argument about souls” fic, comes the question,
Ghost Tony and AI Steve have an existential crisis together
Aka, Tony get confirmation that he had a soul this whole time, and Steve gets to be mad that someone (Ultron? Doom? Red Skull, Tony?!?!??) digitized him to this extent. (Maybe it was punishment, maybe it was the answer to a crisis and this was somehow a solution, maybe someone couldn’t let do)
(Not a prompt so much as a brain tickler)
hi darlin'! i hope you are well :')))
you have the funnest ideas! this is a delightful role reversal.
my question is, WOULD tony take this as confirmation of a soul OR WOULD he take it as proof of eternal suffering that he's earned, to never be at actual peace? or maybe both, okay he has a soul but its still not...allowed to end, to rest at the end of things?
i feel like ghost tony would absolutely be at his UNHINGING END with his lack of ability to affect the world around him in any tangible way. not able to touch, to problem solve, to be heard even - would render him so helpless? no chance of fixing his own cataclysmic fate, just kinda doomed be an inactive particle floating along other people's choices. seeing people suffering, unable to do anything for them.
i firmly believe that stagnancy is a circle of hell for tony stark.
for AI steve, i totally agreeee. he'd be hornier than a puffed toad. full sense of betrayal, definitely lashing out at ghost tony, but also i think bowled over by the cognitive differences that being an AI engenders in him? protocols, look-ups, wet ware connections? does he have an LMD? is he amorphous? he would struggle with both having a fake body and not having a body at all.
he'd probably be a bit terrified and distraught that tony is dead and that means potentially there is no one around to 'fix' him? is his body still around actually?
two wild possibilities have occurred to me, writing this:
steve always was a form of AI. his brainwaves were somehow copied and pasted onto the super soldier body the US army grew in a lab.
tony wakes up a ghost after having discovered this, seems conclusively killed because of this knowledge and now has to break it to steve, who is anything but amused by this joke. but the more and more time steve spends as an AI he realizes the truth and an existential crises hits him like a brick to the face. meanwhile, tony is trying to manage steve, keep him going instead of shutting down, and also try to figure out how this was possible in the 1940's, AND maybe slightly more importantly - who exactly killed tony for knowing steve was an AI and who stuck steve in a computer terminal?? can tony catch a fucking break?? he's already dead, how much worse can it get, etc. mystery, intrigue, plot, yearning, maybe a happy ending?? can tony please get a waffle??/
OR
tony has to teach steve how to code/engineer/build a new body (with as little mech or as much as your brain thinks is sexy, obvs) for himself because steve refuses to stay as a hologram.
its all endless time together without the need for sleep or basic human functions like superheroing interrupting them and they get to talking about all the things they both have forgotten and remember and blah blah they fall in LOVE, ALREADY WERE, NEVER HAVEN'T BEEN, ETC. BUT IT;S DOOMED bc tony is dead for good :)))) and the more they share, the more at peace tony feels and the further he fades into the afterlife. and steve realizes this and cries, etc. and tries to sabotage his own body and tony stops him and says i want you to live on, that's what i need to be at peace, i know now. and steve's like, that's such an asshole thing to put on my shoulders, i hate you, don't do this to me. and tony says i need you to live. steve says i need you to be alive and tony says, only one of these things are possible, steve. so it's! unhappy ending?? magical intervention?? pain either way? :) pain either way.
ANYWAYS. good prompts buddy ✨👌
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thiscrimsonsoul · 2 years
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What are your headcanons for Earth 838 and its Wanda?
{out of paprikash} I don't have a solid set of headcanons that I work off of specifically, but I have thought a lot about who 838 Wanda could be and what's happened in her life as compared to 616 Wanda.
There can only be one Scarlet Witch, right? And she's not born, she's created. Through... pain and suffering, it seems. So then it stands to reason that 838 Wanda, not being the Scarlet Witch, has not suffered like 616 Wanda has, or at least not nearly as much. So I'm guessing her Pietro might still be alive, and so might Billy and Tommy's dad. I feel like she might be an ex-Avenger, maybe she retired when she got married and/or had her boys. I say that because she and her boys are speaking English, so I assume that she came to the U.S. after everything with Hydra, if that even still happened. Maybe her parents aren't even dead, but I feel like they probably are, otherwise what reason would she have to be in America if not because the whole plot with the Avengers still happened?
But obviously the events of AoU happened differently because Ultron never went evil (Ultron bots seem to be protecting people in he 838 universe), which likely means Vision was never created by Ultron. I feel like Vision doesn't exist in 838, he was just never made at all. So 838 Wanda has to have been with someone (whether she still is or she's a widow or she's married or not) other than Vision. This makes a lot of sense because the boys never seemed to have any of Vision's traits, whether aesthetically or powers-wise. As much as I love Vision, I don't think he was meant to be the boys' father.
They're actually alive and flesh and blood in 838, which means their dad is likely a human and probably White given that the boys don't seem to be even slightly tanned, so..... I'm looking at you, Steve, lol. No, I have no idea who the dad could be really, but he's probably a White dude just based on how the boys look. Also it probably isn't anyone with powers of their own because the boys only have Wanda's powers (and Pietro's, likely by virtue of her sharing some genetics with Pietro because of the whole twin thing). So I mean, Steve could be a candidate, certainly, but I don't really know who else. Thor? Heh. Nah, they'd have lightning stuff. Tony? I don't think he's in 838, though, and that ship is somewhat rocky at best unless he never killed her parents. Maybe we don't know the boys' father at all, he could just be a regular guy. Or maybe this 838 universe has a human version of Vision in some way? Victor Shade anybody? ;)
I feel like 838 Wanda is a lot more mentally stable and is in a better place in her life, likely because she still has Pietro and the father of her boys is probably also still alive. She hasn't gone through losing nearly as many people she loves and she has her nice little nuclear family going on and she's happy being a mom and maybe also a wife. Maybe the boys' father just wasn't home at the time the movie events occurred and that's why we didn't see him. Maybe in some future movie we'll find out who he is, though I seriously doubt it.
I also feel like Earth 838 still has a Sokovia? Because if Ultron never went evil then it probably wasn't destroyed. For all we know, Wanda and Pietro didn't even volunteer for Hydra stuff in this universe. All we know is that she's suffered less that 616 Wanda, but we don't know to what degree. If she hadn't been through the experiments then maybe 838 Wanda's powers have just been developing naturally and are weaker or more limited because of that.
The possibilities are kindof almost endless, but they did give us some clues that eliminate some choices for us, like knowing she suffered less and that Ultron was apparently successful in this universe. I hope we get to see more of 838 Wanda in the future, buuuuut... I'm guessing we won't. It would have been cool to know more about her, though.
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americashielded-a · 2 years
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Just came back from Multiverse of Madness and i have thoughts below the readmore (also No Way Home spoilers to make a point)
- So...Krasinski confirmed for Reed Richards? Because that’s what this seems like to me. Also that might suggest Emily Blunt for Susan Storm. Is that happening? Because i would be very okay with that.
- So you know how the other Peters in No Way Home weren’t just throwaway cameos, but the movie did them justice and did it right by making the integral to the plot and Peter’s arc, making them a major part of the third act? Yeah, unfortunately this movie didn’t avoid the same missteps that NWH did. They absolutely wasted the Illuminati. Thanks for sticking around for like 10 minutes and then all of you dying during act 2, that was real nice, especially Captain Carter just getting offed like that. Disgraceful.
- If this is actually how Wanda’s journey ends, then I am so many levels of done that I don’t even want to talk about. Marvel’s been starting to show a bad trend of doing some of its heroes dirty, particularly the women. What they did to Nat, then Sharon (who I still really hope is actually a Skrull or something) and now this. If this is where it ends for her and she’s not coming back, I just...I actually can’t
- So I’m sorry, but does what Stephen said about Mordo mean the two of them fought? Off-screen? Are you FOR REAL RIGHT NOW? One of Doctor Strange’s most notable villains and they fought off-screen and they didn’t save a sequel for him? MCU, what the actual hell are you doing?
-  Xochitl Gomez is a standout in this movie as America, so at least there’s that, I guess. 
- Okay, so was that Clea in the mid-credits scene? I mean if so I’m glad she’s confirmed, but that was goddamn abrupt as hell, and painfully short, so I’m not happy with that either. Could you not have made more time for even a little bit of setup or more of a look at Clea?
- Also would you guys care to explain the third eye, while we’re at it? Is that just a manfiestation of the Eye of Agamotto like it is in the comics? Is it something that came up because Strange used the Darkhold? Are you ever going to bother explaining why it popped up even?...okay probably not, actually, knowing the MCU, I should stop asking things they won’t answer.
- The core plot itself is fine I suppose, but the movie does feel a bit...unfocused at times, and some things are just as abrupt as the mid-credits scene.
- Bruce Campbell can do no wrong, though. BUBBA HO-TEP WAS A TREASURE, YOU HEAR ME?
- For this film being called Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, we didn’t actually see much of the Multiverse. Brief glimpses of other ones, but we spent pretty much all our time in 616 or 838, with a little bit in 199999. I mean, okay, parts of the movie were already a bit unfocused even between those three universes, but I thought the film was going to take things in a more interesting direction than it ended up doing.
- Thanks for the pointless Ultron reference too in 838 I guess?
- The more I think about certain elements of this movie, the more negatively I feel about it. Endgame Effect (as I like to call it) coming in hot here.
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darsynia · 1 year
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Just Right | Ch 4
(Steve Rogers x F!Reader, post-Ultron Multichapter)
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Summary:
You’ve been in love with Steve Rogers for at least a year, but he treats you the same way he treats every other member of the team– with respect, but nothing more. It takes an inter-dimensional mistake and a whole second, more assertive, actually interested Steve for you to realize that you don’t want just any version of Steve Rogers– you want the one you’ve been pining for all this time.
Length: 3,456
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Want to be tagged on this or any other Steve fic? Please ask! @ronearoundblindly @munstysmind @tiny-anne @themaradaniels @starryeyes2000 @chickensarentcheap
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Excerpt:
“He’s me, ‘Dine. He’d never dream of revealing something like that. I was thinking about it-- I think the only reason he went on the mission is because it happened for them already. It’s hard to resist the comparisons.” He lifts his eyebrows to see if you want him to take your tray, and you nod.
“How is that going?” you ask carefully.
Steve immediately looks at the ceiling, then over at the window, before finally glancing your way, letting out a little sigh. “Can someone be better at being you than you are?”
You let some of how you feel about him show, since you’re practically bursting with it anyway. “No, but you can know yourself well enough to recognize that you and he are working on different things, and they don’t overlap.”
He’d been priming to stand up, but your words physically send Steve back in his chair. The look is back, the one you wish you could bottle up and overdose with, on nights when you talk with your married friends.
“I-- That really helps. Thank you.”
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Chapter Four
You don’t change clothes for lunch; it’s only when you walk into the cafeteria area that you realize this could be very loosely construed as a date-- but by then it’s too late, because Steve’s seen you and he waves you over to the smaller table by the wall.
“I waited, hope you don’t mind. Natasha told me it’s very rude to set things up so that the woman is eating when the man isn’t.”
Does that make this a date? your traitorous brain pushes you to ask as the two of you make your way over to get food. You could probably phrase it in a way that gives you cover if his reaction is negative-- but you just can’t do it. Instead, you ask him about the stuff that didn’t make it into Natasha’s rather clinical report.
He talks about the secrecy the government had asked them to employ, how they’d worn sunglasses and ball caps to get to the site, their gear stowed away in backpacks.
“Tony took one look at the group of us and went back into the Quinjet. He came out wearing a leather jacket, reflective sunglasses, and a motorcycle helmet. Said we all looked like a ‘tourist group’ of undercover FBI agents!”
You laugh. “Glad he put it to good use, even if it wasn’t the one I’d intended.”
He looks down and smiles at his sandwich, shaking his head a little bit. “I should have known you were the one who put that in there.”
“Hey, stashing an extra helmet is a no brainer, pun intended! Not everyone is a super soldier, but all of you sure love your motorcycles.”
“You’ll be happy to know we avoided self-destructive behavior as much as possible, this trip. The NRC guys were very careful, only let Stark go into certain areas.”
“Well,” you say, pointing at him with a celery stick. “Based on Howard’s notes you would have been fine, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”
“Howard Stark?” Steve asks, voice going quiet.
“Yeah. I mean, he was heavily involved in the serum development, and man, was he a note-taker!” Something about the look on Steve’s face hits you. “Did… did no one ever tell you about that? There are notebooks’ worth of--”
“No,” he says, posture straightening. “No one said anything.”
Now you feel guilty and indignant on his behalf, all at once. “They’re all scanned in, I bet you have access? I’m not sure anyone thought to tell you, sadly enough. Either that or they just assumed you knew.” You fumble around for your phone, but he stretches out a hand into your line of sight in that way he has, gentler than using his voice. It’s a leadership thing, the knowledge that a command to stop means something different when you’re both a friend and a team leader. You’ve always loved that about him.
“I’ll check it out. Thank you.”
You nod, offer the olive branch of a redirect back to the original conversation. “So, was Stark able to find the source of the radiation?”
“Yeah, flew it right to the disposal site. Probably saved days worth of decontamination work. Problem was, the HYDRA base-- well, you saw the report.”
“Booby traps, Tony Stark’s favorite.”
He wheeze-coughs through the sip he’d been taking. “Yeah, and his work defusing them was the lynchpin of the whole operation. He’ll be insufferable for days.”
“How will we be able to tell the difference?” It’s a joke, but after the two of you share a chuckle, Steve’s expression turns serious.
“Yeah, about that…”
“Oh, I walked right into that one.”
“Humor me? It’s been a strange experience, having a doppelganger. You seem like one of the only people who can instantly see the difference, so when you didn’t--” He breaks off and doesn’t continue.
You shrug. “It’s honestly just instinct? Or maybe I’m hypersensitive to hair length. Got to make sure that helmet fits you without slippage!”
Steve finishes off the last bite of his sandwich and regards you thoughtfully. It’s familiar (still thrilling, though), and you shove away the thoughts that everything you’ve been saying and doing here could have just as easily been done as a function of your job. You suddenly wish you could change the subject, but you know Steve. He’s wrestling with something. You suspect you’re one of the only people who see the differences between him and Gold Steve enough to help.
“He won’t say anything about what he may have gone through-- and I wouldn’t ask,” Steve says quickly. “It does feel like he’s more… maybe ‘comfortable’ is the word? It’s hard not to worry that it’s from some kind of shared trauma.”
“A shared trauma you’d avoid, if only you knew it was coming?” you guess gently.
Steve’s look of relief carries with it an undercurrent of gratitude that could very easily be tuned to the romantic. After spending hours of your life syncing yourself to his resonance, your body can’t help but respond, quickening your breathing and heating your blood.
“He’s me, ‘Dine. He’d never dream of revealing something like that. I was thinking about it-- I think the only reason he went on the mission is because it happened for them already. It’s hard to resist the comparisons.” He lifts his eyebrows to see if you want him to take your tray, and you nod.
“How is that going?” you ask carefully.
Steve immediately looks at the ceiling, then over at the window, before finally glancing your way, letting out a little sigh. “Can someone be better at being you than you are?”
You let some of how you feel about him show, since you’re practically bursting with it anyway. “No, but you can know yourself well enough to recognize that you and he are working on different things, and they don’t overlap.”
He’d been priming to stand up, but your words physically send Steve back in his chair. The look is back, the one you wish you could bottle up and overdose with, on nights when you talk with your married friends.
“I-- That really helps. Thank you.”
“Anytime,” you say, and mean it.
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When you’re finished with your work for the day, something in you just cannot stand to be indoors any longer. That doesn’t mean you’re going to go for a run or anything, but a walk among green things is a necessity. You head straight for the woods when you get outside, aiming for a particular clearing that’s a favorite, the one with a tree that angles just so, perfect for leaning against and thinking.
It had been a gamble to move into the Avengers Compound, because it cut you off in some ways from your friends in the city. Not everyone who works there lives on-site, it’s not required-- and you didn’t do it just because it’s where Steve lives. After all, he’s been looking for months for a place in Brooklyn, so he could move out at any point. He refuses to let anyone help (and you suspect that Stark actually has a place rented or bought for him and is just looking for the right way to trick Steve into living there), but you’re sure it’s only a matter of time.
The lunch today has you all twisted up in knots, even hours later. On one hand, you’re elated that he’d invited you to lunch at all, that you got his full attention for such an extended period of time-- especially in such a relaxed, no-pressure setting. On another, it was… more of the same, from him. 
You let out a long, frustrated sigh. Meeting Gold Steve has made you dissatisfied with the status quo, there’s no other way to put it. Without his attentive interest, you’d have seen your lunch with your universe’s Steve Rogers as one of the most exciting events of your tenure here.
“That’s a weary sound,” a voice says. Speak of the devil…
“Haven’t they sent you back yet?” you quip, mostly kidding. You’re vulnerable and combative right now, and if you can chase Gold Steve away, you really ought to.
He walks over into your line of sight and shoulders up against a tree, one hand in his pocket. “Tony’s been in the lab since last night, or so FRIDAY says. A couple more hours and Natasha’s planning to break in to give him a care package of food and fresh coffee.”
“That’s… actually pretty encouraging.” Your back has started to hurt, but if you stand up to leave, you know he’ll offer to accompany you, and your universe’s Steve has seemed a little… protective of you, when Gold Steve is around. 
That thought actually pisses you off, because the word your mind is dancing around is ‘jealousy,’ and in order for there to be jealousy, there need to be feelings. You’re pretty sure that’s not what’s going on.
“If you don’t mind my saying so, you look like you need to talk something out.”
“You’re probably simultaneously the best and the worst person to do that with right now,” you groan.
“It’s ‘other me’ related?”
You close your eyes and scrunch up your face in regret. “Pretend I didn’t say anything?”
“And squander your chance to figure him out?” Gold Steve actually makes a ‘tsk’ noise.
“You don’t really mean that,” you say with your eyes still closed. “Even if you did, there’s no figuring. There’s just me reading into things.” You suspect he’s trying to learn more about his counterpart, so you decide to chase him away with this and then maybe dig a hole to fling yourself into until he goes back home. “He’s had lunch with any number of other people, and it’s just the way you look at me that made me mix the two of you up when he was jog--” 
You straighten up. If Stark’s really on the verge of a breakthrough, this might be your last chance to ask Gold Steve the thing that’s been nagging at you for weeks.
If you’re burning bridges, then you might as well light them up.
“What is with that, anyway? You know that’s how I knew, right? The way you look at me.” Most of your rational brain is in revolt, but you’re tired. If this avatar of the person you love can’t explain to you how to trigger the same reaction in your version, then you’re going to demand that he tell you what makes him different. He’s upended your neatly compartmentalized life, it’s the least he can do. And once he has, he’ll probably stop seeking you out, and you can start the process of returning to normal.
He looks guilty.
“I wasn’t going to--” Gold Steve presses his lips together. “I’m not trying to change anything,” he says, and it sounds more like he’s trying to persuade himself than you. “After I found out Bucky was alive, learned some of what he’d gone through, someone was there for me, and I fell really hard.” 
His wry smile is sad, and you feel a tiny prickle of alarm. It doesn’t feel like this is going to be a happy story.
He continues, “At the time, I didn’t feel like I knew enough about this decade, this century. I needed time. And the nature of the job, you know, the world always needs saving, so I wasn’t worried. I figured I had time. And then we lost-- she was gone.” 
Gold Steve stops and takes a breath. He’s not looking at you, and you don’t blame him. It seems like if he did, he might just lose the tenuous grip he has on his emotions. You can barely breathe just listening to him.
“I really regret that. I never took that chance-- and, I’d love to think we’d have made it work, that she’d have fallen for me just as hard-- but now I’ll never know. I’ll never know what it would’ve been like to wake up next to each other. To help her through the tough times, to maybe be the last loving thought on her mind, before the end.” He looks directly at you, and you can see it, the bone-deep regret, the determination to do whatever he can to prevent that kind of heartache. “Those days afterwards, they taught me you have to speak up, let people know what they mean to you. I can’t let the fear of letting someone down leave them to die alone. I told myself I had to use that horrible day to be better, to--” he lets out a tiny chuckle, like he’s reliving a bittersweet memory. “To wear my heart on my sleeve.”
“That’s beautiful,” you whisper. “I’m sorry you lost her.”
“Me too.”
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Gold Steve wasn’t at dinner, but you didn’t blame him at all. You’d sat there trying to socialize with his words hanging around your heart until the burden was too heavy, and you’d excused yourself after barely eating anything. Now it’s two in the morning and you’re ravenous, and you only have yourself to blame.
You make yourself some cereal, a comfort food from your childhood, but you can’t bring yourself to eat it in the large, dark cafeteria, nor do you want to put the overhead lights on. Instead, you steal away with it to the rec room, even though it’s probably not allowed in there. If FRIDAY wants to tell on you, so be it.
It isn’t until you’re happily settling into the comfiest chair that you see you’re not alone.
“Jeez, Tony, are you okay?”
“Finally! Pay up,” he says triumphantly from his place on the couch. You swear for a solid twenty seconds; for months you’d avoided using his given name after he’d teased you for using Natasha’s first, telling him smugly that you’d rather pay him $50 than give him the satisfaction.
“I’ll pay you in the morning, but I think it’s cheating to stay up for forty some hours just for a lousy fifty bucks. I guess eccentric billionaire is as eccentric billionaire does,” you sniff. Inwardly, you’re mad that you’d forgotten Tony likes the rec room couch better than the guest beds.
“Fifty bucks and the solution to sending the Rog-elgänger back,” Tony says, adding quickly, “I think. I came in here to get a few winks and see if I still feel like a genius when I wake up.”
“And?”
“Fatal flaw,” he grins. “I don’t know what it’s like not to feel like a genius.”
“Well, run it by me, I’ll give you my honest, non-genius opinion.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to count yourself out of this equation, Brigandine. You’re a big part of how I figured it out,” Tony shocks you by saying. “Keep eating, don't let it get soggy. Okay.” He slaps a hand down on his right thigh. “Say this is our universe, and this--” Tony slaps his other hand down on his left thigh; “--is IMPOS-Steve’s universe. He’s said there’s no Avengers Compound over there, but he still walked out into the room when he showed up, right? Like there was a door in the wall?”
You’re still giggling from a minute back. “Only you would use your lap to symbolize the multiverse! But yes, it was like he’d just walked through a door.”
Tony ignores your gibe, caught up in his explanation. “That means it’s not a one-to-one transfer-- whatever chose that place in space-time, it’s not based on where he was when he left. Which is useful only up to a point, because to send him back, I have to do the same thing. With me so far?”
You nod, your mouth full.
“Not long after the attack on New York I got to thinking about how the Chitauri were able to connect from so far a distance. I mean, yeah, wormhole, but I figured there had to be more to it than that. I thought, what if there was something that was like DNA, but it was readable without having to look into a person’s cells. A molecular imprint, like your own personal resonant frequency.”
You’re completely fascinated. “The same way a big building or a bridge has a specific frequency, only unique?”
“Not at all, and yes,” Tony says. “It doesn’t really matter what it is exactly, just that it exists. The problem is figuring out how to detect it, so I went looking for Vision. The two of us did some testing--” He pauses for an extended, satisfying-looking yawn, scratches his forehead, and tries to remember where he was.
“Some testing?” you prompt.
“A lot of testing, but yes. I had set this aside way back when because there was no way to really test the theory--”
“I’m sorry, what theory? Connection over long distances?”
“Well, yes, but connection across universes, too. I mean, the worst possible nightmare, right? With the mind stone and access to every dimension, Loki might have had the largest army ever. An infinite army.”
There’s something about the expression on Tony’s face, like maybe he’d actually set this concept aside because it was the only way he could sleep. He shakes himself a little bit, sees you’re sitting there, and apparently, that’s enough to remind him of where he is in his explanation.
“Right. Faux-gers,” Tony says, grinning. Your stomach clenches in a not wholly uncomfortable way at the idea that your boss associates you with Steve enough to put him back on track like that.
“I think what you’re really lying awake doing is coming up with those,” you tease.
“You know it. Anyway, you’d think there’s no way to test it, right? You’d have to have two versions of the exact same person. Yes, exactly!” Tony says at your spark of realization. He absurdly makes two little ‘people’ out of the first and second fingers of each hand, and stands them up on his thighs, harking back to his ‘lap dimensions.’ “Vision was able to confirm it. Both Steves have the same resonance.” He sighs and lets his hands drop. “Another breakthrough I can’t win a Nobel for.”
You still feel like you’re right on the edge of understanding, and from the yawn Tony just fought through, he’s running out of coherent consciousness. “That’s great, but how does that send him back, exactly?”
“Because all I have to do is tune the thing I haven’t quite invented yet to the resonance of one of the other Avengers. That way I can feel confident I’m sending Pure Imitation Vanilla back safely, instead of in the middle of the concrete foundation for the Bezos Tower or something. And now I want cookies.”
You are taken by a yawn of your own, and Tony leans over and rescues your mostly-empty bowl before it falls off of your lap. Something he said when you first started talking is important, but you can’t remember what it is--
“I might send Nat to trick him into telling us how much farther along he is than we are,” Tony says, lifting up your spoon, making a terrible face, and setting the bowl down on the coffee table. “He tried to play it off, but there were times on that mission that he was definitely steering us away from some nasty shit.”
That confirms your similar hunch. “How far ahead do you think he is?”
“Very,” is the surprising answer. “Which brings me back to your role in all of this. Brigandine, I’m sorry to say, but I think you’re dead.”
You blink at Tony. “Dead? I figured I just wasn’t born in his--”
“Ah, but that wouldn’t work.” He pops his finger figurines back up on his lap, and you groan. “They have to match, remember?”
“Couldn’t the matching resonance thing have been Sam?” you protest. A film of unreality is forming across your skin, dusting up goosebumps and an accompanying chill.
“I don’t think so. You said he seemed pleased to see you, surprised to see the complex. What if something happened? Something bad?” Tony leans over. “Something preventable? If the resonance is tethered to a person instead of a timeframe, how do you ensure you arrive before the bad thing happened?”
“You choose someone who shouldn’t be alive,” you breathe, shaken. “But he’s been here for weeks! If something’s coming, wouldn’t he have said something by now?”
“Not if it’s a ways off. Not if he can’t go back. This is Steve Rogers, ‘Dine. His morals have morals. If we can’t send him back, he doesn’t need to say anything and change other things by accident. He just has to steer us away from the dragons at the edge of the map.”
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fasterthanmydemons · 1 year
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Mantis was a capable pilot.
However, that didn’t stop her from momentarily losing her focus, her eyes widening as a song started to play, echoing softly through the ship as they left Earth further and further behind. She recognized the song immediately: I’m Not In Love by 10cc. Mantis knew Quill was the one playing it. She knew what that song meant to him. It had been the last song he listened to before he left Earth as a young boy. The last song he listened to before his entire world crumbled down. Of course he would play it now that he was leaving Earth a second time. Peter Jason Quill, also known as Star-Lord, hated his planet and wanted to leave as soon as possible. His last memories of Earth were too painful. Mantis wished she was brave enough to tell him that Ego was her father too; that even though Ego was dead, Peter still had blood family left alive. But… she didn’t want him to be reminded of Ego’s actions every time he saw her.
Letting out a breath, Mantis pressed the ‘autopilot’ button. The Benatar slowed down to pilot itself, at least for a few hours. It was time to sleep… although, in space, things such as night and day didn’t exist. The exterior was always the dark, deep greatness of the sky; bright stars and constellations of blinding beauty. Although Mantis had only been a Guardian for two years, she already loved the galaxy.
But now, she was no longer the team’s newest member. The events regarding Ultron echoed through the whole galaxy, and soon after, a team from Earth known as the Avengers broke up. It left many of them being treated like criminals, like all the Guardians had been back in their day except for Mantis herself. It had been, apparently, a bad fight. Something about some accords. The Guardians had decided to land on Earth and try to help. And Pietro Maximoff was wanted by the law… but only on Earth.
He did not want to leave. His twin, Wanda, who Mantis believed to possess abilities similar to hers, was also wanted by the law, and she was staying on Earth. For some reason, against his wishes, Pietro ended up joining the Guardians. They welcomed him, but he was visibly unhappy. A little hostile, even. After all, they were strangers to him, and he was leaving his sister on Earth. Quill showed him the ship. Gamora offered to train with him. Groot, who was no longer a baby but still a child, was frustrated because this man didn’t understand his language. Drax had been too busy eating zarg nuts to engage in conversation, and Rocket wasn’t the best at comforting others, so he kept his distance.
Be quiet, big boys don’t cry, said the lyrics. Mantis disagreed. She wanted to check on Pietro, and she walked around the Benatar, gently bobbing her head to the tune. It was soothing, despite the sad, difficult childhood memories it carried for Quill. She wasn’t surprised when she found Pietro awake and outside of his room, staring out a window. Space was beautiful, after all.
“Hello…” she said timidly, wringing her hands. His separation anxiety was so intense, Mantis could feel it without touching him. It was radiating off him; he seemed to struggle with co-dependency. If his attitude remained cold and closed off with her, she would understand. “I am Mantis.” She had not introduced herself before. They picked him up from Earth a few hours ago, and Mantis had been pretty silent because she did not want to overwhelm him. This whole situation was probably really difficult for him.
“Do you mind the company?” Even while asking, she sat down nearby, peacefully enjoying the music; the ship was dimly lit, since most of the Guardians were sleeping. But Mantis wasn’t sleepy. She wanted to pilot, and now she wanted to help. Maybe Pietro would ignore her. Maybe he would tell her to go away. But… maybe he didn’t want to be alone. And because his separation anxiety was off the charts, maybe her powers could do something. She hoped she could make him feel less uncomfortable. He looked… tense. He really didn’t want to be there, and it showed. It was easy to tell how much he already missed his sister.
(A potential situation for Guardian!Pietro, maybe? You don’t have to go with it if you think it’s too OOC for Pietro to leave Wanda on Earth! I’m just putting the idea out there. If you do take it, next time I’m thinking about writing 'Speedster of the Galaxy’ at the beginning so you know it takes place in this specific verse! 🛸)
__________
{YASSSSS, I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT ALL OF THIS!! Also Speedster of the Galaxy.... yes. I love that too. XD I can totally work with this... prepare to receive a BOOK reply, hahaha.}
Pietro had never fit in well with the Avengers. Some of them were nice, like Miss Natasha, but others, like Stark, constantly got on his nerves. Maybe Wanda could forgive Stark, or at least see past their history with him, but Pietro couldn’t. The rules, the tight schedules, the weird looks he got for eating so much, the boredom of not being able to sleep at night... it all bothered him. Not to mention how much they had to fight to get shared living quarters. What the hell was wrong with him sharing a room with his twin? It was a big room, two beds, plenty of space, so what was the problem? He didn’t like everyone implying that there was something wrong with it and using some fancy psychological term to describe their bond and reduce it to a mental illness. Emotional co-dependency. Apparently both he and Wanda had it. Pietro didn’t care. It was none of their business.
He put up with all of it because Wanda seemed to like it with the Avengers. She’d made friends, she was training with her powers, and... well, there was Vision. Pietro couldn’t stand Vision. He was part of Ultron, and Pietro always wondered... which parts? The parts that wanted to eradicate humans? The parts that wanted to kill him? He didn’t want to be around him long enough to find out, and yet Wanda seemed to have some kind of strange affection for him. It was one more thing that bothered him, but Wanda was thriving and happy, and he wasn’t about to take that away from her...
...until the Accords. Until Wanda made a mistake - everyone did now and then, and if you say you haven’t, then you’re lying - and everyone jumped on her like it was the worst thing ever. Yes, people died, and yes, she felt terribly for it. But what about all the people Stark had killed with his weapons, his recklessness, and his poor planning? No one seemed to care about that except, ironically, for Stark himself. Nevertheless, the Avengers were split over what could only be called a flawed set of legislative bullplop at best. Everyone except for maybe Steve was coming down hard on Wanda, and that pissed Pietro off. It had foreign scapegoat we can’t control and want to eliminate written all over it, and he went into protective brother mode immediately.
Pietro had read the Accords cover to cover, but no one believed that. Partly because it was a huge document, but also because no one believed he could sit down and pay attention to anything for that long. The only reason it took him twenty minutes instead of half that time to finish reading it was because he read it twice. He was no lawyer or legislator, especially not in America, but he fired back with every loophole, pointed-out flaw, logical fallacy, and failure of oversight he could think of after reading the contents of the Accords. But this pompous ass of a guy named Ross couldn’t care less. He’d already made up his mind, that much was clear.
It... came as a devastating surprise to see just how many of the Avengers were on board with the Accords. Even Natasha was on the fence about it, though Pietro supposed she was just trying to keep from putting herself on either side for strategic purposes more than anything else. But Stark and Vision wanted to sign it. Steve and Clint didn’t. That said all Pietro needed to know. Joining Team Cap had been a no-brainer... but it had all gone terribly wrong. Everyone on their side was arrested in Germany, except for Pietro and Wanda. No one could catch them because Pietro spirited her away before anyone could get their hands on her. No way in hell was anybody going to put his sister in another cell ever again.
Being on the run had been hard, especially since Wanda insisted upon continuing to see her robot boyfriend. Pietro didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him. Which... actually wasn’t far, Vision weighed a ton. A literal ton. He didn’t want to take that away from her because he could tell she loved him, but at the same time, he wondered how much information was being sent back to Stark. Wanda lay low otherwise, only putting herself out there when she met with Vision. She was careful and prudent. And Pietro... was not.
He just couldn’t help it. He had to be out and about, active, meeting people, helping people. It wasn’t in his nature to hide or sit around an apartment all day. Wanda tried to explain to him that he had to be careful, that he was wanted worldwide and all it would take was one person to recognize him and alert the authorities to land him in jail. But Pietro, left cynical by governments, Avengers, and laws, always replied with, only if they can catch me. Wanda was worried, and Pietro could see it was affecting her appetite and sleep. That... wasn’t okay. So he tried. He really did. He tried so hard to sit still, to hide, to be quiet, to not go anywhere or do anything, for Wanda’s sake... but then it was his appetite and sleep that began to suffer. He lost weight, something Wanda began to notice.
Through Vision, Wanda had heard of a group called the Guardians of the Galaxy. They were like the Avengers of space, is what she understood of it. If Pietro could join them, he could help people all over the galaxy. Plus he was a complete child when it came to space and Wanda knew he’d be ecstatic to be traveling up there somewhere. It came from watching Star Trek on TV as a child. Wanda had her sitcoms, Pietro had his sci-fi shows. Although she couldn’t imagine being separated from him, it would get him safely away from anyone who wanted to do him harm, at least on this planet. And it wouldn’t be forever. Maybe for a few months or a year, just until this whole mess with the Accords blew over.
All of this Wanda had explained to Pietro, and as expected, he answered too quickly. No. He didn’t want to leave her. But after a long discussion and much convincing, he could see the merits in it, even if he still didn’t want to leave her. She assured him she could protect herself, and Vision would help, but that if his nature was to be out there helping others, well there was no greater “out there” than space.
But as he stood on this ship the name of which he’d already forgotten, awake because his biological clock was all screwed up, staring out at the vast reaches of space, all Pietro felt was loss. I’m so far away from Wanda. That made him a bad brother. It also made him sad, lonely, angry, and frustrated. How the hell had he let her talk him into this? Instead of being so excited to be in space and thinking that it was beautiful and amazing - which it was - he just wanted to be back on Earth with his twin sister.
Pietro was instantly annoyed when he heard a voice. He just wanted to be left alone. However, when he turned his head to see that it was Mantis, the annoyance seemed to melt away. She was so.... ugh, just gosh-darned cute. How could he be mad at her? It wasn’t her fault that he wasn’t in a good headspace. “Hello Mantis,” he said, trying to be polite despite the pang in the pit of his stomach. When she asked if he wanted company, he shrugged. “Is your ship, you can do what you want.” As soon as he said it, though, he actually worried that it sounded... kindof assholey. Swallowing his emotional discomfort, he tried again. “No, I don’t mind,” he said a little nicer.
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redhairedwolfwitch · 1 year
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Hello my Auburn Angel,
Just wanted to see how you are doing, my friend. I haven't written you in a bit, but I have been doing all right. Also, side note, this is the first time I'm writing you whilst slightly tipsy (this is an understatement), but I am cooking myself dinner right now and hoping I don't burn anything.
I was wondering, if you want to share, how are this going vis-à-vis your living situation and potentially wanting to get out of there?
Also, I like asking really weird questions to get to know people better, so I have some for you, but feel free to ignore whatever you don't want to answer:
If you could only eat one color of food for the rest of your life, which color would you choose?
If you were a character in a horror movie, what cliche would you be (e.g. the first to die, the skeptic who doesn't believe in ghosts, etc.)?
If you could have any superpower, but it had to be completely useless, what superpower would you choose?
Also, I love that your friend calls you Gingernut now. Do you tell your irl friends about your tumblr or is this a tumblr friend?
Also (ugh too many also's), I don't think the tag issue happens to me, tags work fine even if I use hyperlinks I think, or maybe I don't pay enough attention to it, could be.
Update on the food: It's almost done, so time to wrap up this letter and start putting some food in my belly and sober up (because I'm supposed to go out again later).
As always, much love,
-Chaotic Anon
ahh my sweet sweet chaotic anon, i hope you're doing well (if we ignore the understated tipsy cooking - i hope whatever you made was edible and you didn't burn yourself or the food)
oh, my living situation is unchanged, my small childhood bedroom where the only place i can sit is my bed, which isn't bad but also it makes me love interior design, specifically colours and furniture, like desks, which there is a lack of in my little room. living situation will be unchanged for at least 2023, and even if i could get out, i don't know where i'd go, so i feel a bit hopeless since i don't have a big picture for my life, i just have a little picture with small stepping stone milestones, but the picture is slowly getting coloured in... oh can we add in how my only friend in this town moved away? yeah, i'm stuck for at least 2023, and with the way my mental health is going (badly) i might not get far in general i'm afraid.
anyway, you asked fun questions, and i gotta say, i love colourful food, so i'd be doomed if i had to have e.g. only red foods (sounds like a lot of tomatoes) and it reminded me of how many foods are beige or red, or green or brown.. or just burn everything to a brown or charcoal but i'd need a sauce to go with since it would be dry as heck ahh...
horror movies? i can see myself either getting the hell out of there quickly, or just dying very easily from something unrelated (knowing my anxiety, my heartrate and blood pressure would probably kill me first) but i think i'd just die easily, there is no final enby here sksks.
a completely useless superpower? all i can think of is how Pietro died in Age of Ultron... fast but not fast enough and no super healing:/ he deserved better...
it's a tumblr friend, who has managed to also be a discord and instagram friend, and eventually irl friend too hehe, but people on tumblr and other socials reply and message more than any of my irl friends so...
yeah i don't know what's going on with the tags, i'm just kinda staring at them and trying to either poke them with a metaphorical stick or not at all, since i saw some people are having glitchy tags that reload into something other than a linked fic? tumblr chaos, what else can we expect these days?
take care of yourself, anon of chaos, have fun but also don't die please, i prefer people alive if possible...
~Lux
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bumbleb4008 · 1 year
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🌱🔥💧🌪️
Chapter 5: the Party
“Okay, let’s for 1 second consider this!” Said Tony Stark. “We don’t have any proof that she’s telling the truth, she could just be an incredibly good liar! I mean like she doesn’t have any visual appearances that prove she was tortured or experimented on.” Oh that made her mad because she definitely had scars and ones she wasn’t quite fond of either. “How would you know if I had any visual appearances of being tortured and experimented on!” Cameron yelled angrily. “Cami calm down.” Said Captain America. “No! I will not calm down!” She lifted her shirt revealing the nasty scars along her body. “I do have appearances.” Cameron said before she stormed out of the room.
As she left she could sense that the new atmosphere in the room was definitely shock, pity, sadness, well she couldn’t quite decide. She started walking back to the room that they had assigned to her but someone had followed her out of the room. He grabbed her by the arm but pulled back when she flinched. “I’m sorry.” It was Steve. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Cameron nodded her head no, “no, no it’s okay, it’s not your fault I’ve been through hell and back.” She kept walking, right now all she wanted was for her to be with her brother, maybe he would be doing something to make her laugh or make fun of her in some playful way.
“Hey kid are you alright?” Steve asked. “I will be.” She said trying to keep the tears from flowing but 1 still escaped. She quickly wiped it away and started for her room. “Cami,” he hesitated, “you gonna be at the party tonight?” Cameron smiled. “Can’t wait.”
The party was packed full of people, ones who worked for Shield, all of the Avengers and even some military. She was to no one’s surprise the only kid there but something about the whole thing, she loved it. She had always hoped for her life to be something like this. It wasn’t exactly what she hoped for but it was still pretty good. A man named Rhodes who was apparently Tony Starks best friend came up to Thor, Steve and her and told them a strange story about a War Machine and was quite disappointed by their un-enthusiastic reactions.
After the party the only ones still left we’re Steve, Tony, Thor, Natasha, Bruce, Rhodes, Maria and herself. Tony started questioning Thor’s hammer and said that he could probably pick it up and Thor happily watched as he failed, try after try almost everyone was attempting to pick it up but it wasn’t until Steve went that it even moved, it was only a small bit but it hadn’t done that yet, Cameron noticed Thor’s surprised face and had a guess that Steve could have lift it but didn’t out of respect. “Um, could I try?” Asked Cameron. “Give it a go little one.” Said Thor. She got up and got a firm grip on the hammer expecting it to weigh like a thousand pounds but when she pulled up it was as light as a feather. Everyone was gaping at her. “What?” Cameron asked. “What I do?!”
“You...” Tony tried but quickly gave up. Steve spoke up for him though. “Welcome to the Avengers kid.”
Only a few moments after she was officially made an Avenger Cameron heard a noise that came from where the elevator used to be. “Uh guys. Where’s the elevator?!” The rest of the team looked up to see that some sort of robot had taken the place of where Cameron was looking. “Oh. My. God.” Is all she heard before the bot had striked. Everyone was on their feet fighting, running but for Cameron she stood there wondering how something like that could possibly be real, it was talking and it wasn’t talking in a stiff robotic way, no it was loose and sarcastic. It sounded more like, like Tony.
She glanced at Tony, he knew that she figured out what he did. “They call me Ultron.” The robot said breaking the chaos. “I had to kill the other guy, tragic he was a good guy.” Steve looked at Natasha but she just shrugged her shoulders. So Cameron spoke up. “You killed somebody?” Cameron asked. He didn’t answer her. Great another thing that won’t listen to her. Thor went in with his hammer and knocked the bit over to Steve who briskly severed the bots head with his shield.
Cameron looked at Tony again. “Would you care to explain?”
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