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captainsophiestark · 8 months

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Weirdest Day Ever

Daisy Johnson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Marvel

Day 12 Prompt: "I'm not saying I didn't like it."

Summary: Daisy and Y/N broke up a long time ago rather than attempting long distance. Now, with a nudge from a terrigen crystal, the very thing that tore them apart might bring them back together.

Word Count: 1,694

Category: Angst, Fluff

Requested by @trekkingaroundasgard! Thanks for the request Nicola, and I hope you like it!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

The weirdest day of my life, to date, was the day I saw my ex-girlfriend on the news three times in the course of twenty-four hours, as a new superhero working for SHIELD. And until I bit into a takeout sushi roll from my favorite restaurant, I thought nothing could beat it for the number one spot.

Then I'd started transforming.

Inhumans and inhuman transformations had been in the news once or twice lately (at least one of my ex's appearances had been in connection with it), but I hadn't really thought much of it. I'd certainly never imagined I might be one of them, a latent alien gene just waiting in my genetic code. But as a chrysalis started to form around me, fear took over, and I knew what came next.

I didn't know how much time passed for me while I was totally crystalized, but when I came out of it, I collapsed in a heap on the floor. It had felt like floating, through time and space, with no anchor. My body was exhausted and a little sore, and my head hurt. I looked around, finally glancing at a clock to see about four hours had passed.

What the hell was I supposed to do now? Seriously, what did somebody do after a transformation like that? What was the normal reaction?

Slowly, I got to my feet, waiting for some crazy, obvious sign of my change. I walked to a mirror on unsteady feet to find that I looked the same as before, if a little shakier than when I'd been trying to enjoy my favorite food for lunch in peace.

I frowned down at my hands, experimentally shaking one out in front of me to see if anything happened. When it didn't, I flared my hand out, fingers spread wide.

That's when the new weirdest day of my life really kicked off.

A bright purple forcefield bubble appeared around my hand, growing rapidly in size the longer I left my hand extended. I watched it in fascination, until I heard a crashing sound behind me and whipped around to find the door of my apartment busted open. A dozen people in military tactical gear broke through the door, headed right for me.

Reflexively, I flung my hands up in front of my face. With my new powers, the forcefield responded, exploding in a circle around me and knocking the strangers backwards and off their feet. My sushi clattered to the ground, and I leapt over it as I raced past the stunned soldiers and through the door.

I heard shouts from behind me followed shortly by thundering footsteps. My pulse roared in my ears, beating a million miles an hour as I burst into the stairwell and ran down as fast as possible. I had no idea what my plan was, other than 'get away', which felt like a decent first step.

I barreled through the lobby of my apartment building and into the street, the people chasing me not far behind. I staggered a little, unsteady on my feet, more tired than I'd normally be thanks to the use of my new powers. I glanced over my shoulder, then flung my hands up to defend myself again as shots—hopefully nonlethal—fired at me. They bounced off my forcefield, but each hit still felt like a punch in the gut with the effort it took to deflect.

I screamed, flinging my arms out harder and farther away from me, sending another wave of purple force pushing my attackers back. It nearly knocked me to the ground, too, but I managed to stay on my feet and keep running.

I staggered around a corner and into an alleyway, hoping to lose them by going off the beaten path. I realized after a few steps, however, that I'd also just walked into a dead end. I turned around to go back the way I'd come, only to have my exit blocked by the soldier-looking people.

I stumbled backwards, almost tripping over my own two feet and going down. I managed to catch myself at the last second, heart pounding as my attackers advanced. I flung my hands out, but even the smallest forcefield had me seeing spots now.

I was trapped. No way out. And then, my day doubled down on the weirdness.

Like a fever-induced hallucination, my ex-girlfriend Daisy Johnson, formerly known as Skye, landed in front of me in a full superhero pose. She stared down my attackers, who hesitated at the sight of her, long enough for her to level a blast of her own superpower and send them flying backwards. She turned to me with a grin, and when I swayed a little on my feet this time it wasn't just because I was dizzy.

"Hey. Long time no see," said Daisy. She started walking towards me and I just watched her, still not totally convinced this wasn't a dream.

We'd only broken up because she was taking off with SHIELD, and I was moving across the country for work. We'd decided long distance with spies probably wasn't a good idea. To have her magically reappear in my life, right when some crazy latent superpower had been awakened in me... it felt too good to be true.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

I shook my head as Daisy reached me, putting her hands on my arms and gently squeezing to try to ground me back to reality. It didn't really work.

"It's okay," she said, glancing over my shoulder before stepping even closer to me. "It's gonna be okay, I promise. We're gonna get you out of here."

I nodded. Despite not seeing Daisy for the past few years, I trusted her. I knew she'd get me out of here, that I could feel safe with her. As a result, the adrenaline quickly faded, and my light-headed exhaustion only got worse.

"It's... good to see you again," I muttered, giving Daisy the best smile I could muster. She returned with a confused frown, and I thought I saw her mouth my name, but the sound didn't make it past the encroaching blackness. The next thing I knew, I was toppling towards Daisy, the rest of the world completely slipping away.

****************

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the splitting pain in my head. I frowned before I even opened my eyes, memories of the events right before I blacked out only making my headache worse. I heard a snort, and my eyes flew open.

Daisy. Sitting on the edge of the bed I was laying in, looking at me with a fond smile. She'd swooped back in to save my life, and she looked absolutely fantastic doing it.

"Out of all the reactions of Inhumans we've saved, scowling before even waking all the way up might be my favorite," she said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. I sat up, my heart racing faster at the sight of her.

"You... saved me," I breathed. She nodded a little, her worried eyes scanning me from head to toe.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner."

"No, Daisy, oh my gosh," I scooted forward, unable to resist the pull towards her. After everything that had happened, to have her suddenly back in my life after I'd literally been attacked? I didn't want to waste another minute without her. "You saved me. You came at the perfect time, please don't apologize. I- I'm so happy to see you again."

She smiled at me, the small, soft smile that had been reserved just for me for so long when we were together, and I found myself leaning forward, pulled towards Daisy by some gravitational force. I brought my hand up to the back of her head, tangling it in her hair as I kissed her softly, every happy moment from our lives together rushing back. After a second, she pulled away, a rueful look on her face.

"Y/N-"

"Oh my God. Daisy, I am so, SO sorry. I wasn't thinking, I shouldn't have just kissed you like that, I-"

"Whoa." She held up a hand, stopping me in my tracks before I could really get rolling and rambling. I stared at her with wide eyes, and she gently took one of my hands in hers before giving me a soft smile. "It's okay. I missed you too, and when you kissed me... well, I'm not saying I didn't like it. But we haven't seen each other in a while, and you just survived a really, really big trauma that's gonna take some time to process. I think it might be a good idea if we take things a little slower."

I nodded, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Yeah... yeah, you're probably right. But Daisy? I do still want to head that way, if you do, of course. You know, back towards... something like what we had before."

She sighed. "I want that. For sure, I want that. But maybe you should take a little more time to process, make sure it's actually something you want and not just the delayed adrenaline dump or something-"

"Daisy." I shifted a little on the bed, taking my turn to stop her worry train before it got rolling, taking both her hands more firmly in mine. "Honestly, while forcefields will probably be a sick power, this whole experience has completely sucked. Every single minute of it... except for the fact that it's brought me back to you. So... if you're sure, I'm sure."

A smile steadily grew on Daisy's face, mirrored on my own until we were positively beaming at each other. SHIELD had been the thing to tear us apart, but now, it had brought us back together. There was some interesting kind of poetry to that, but I didn't care enough to analyze it. All that mattered to me was that Daisy and I would be side by side, working through all the weirdness together, today and for every new weirdest day that was sure to come our way in the future.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @luv-ghostie @songbirdcannabe

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look-at-the-soul · 8 months

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The Photoshoot - Part 47

Cillian Murphy x OC

Series Master list: Part 1 (2014), Part 2 (2015)

I’ve to start this part by saying I’m surprised how this chapter got written by itself-and no, I’m not talking about AI-, what I mean is I had the idea súper clear from the beginning, the dialogue flew or slipped out of my fingers as I typed like a maniac 🤭 and I know it’s because of how much I love this story and all the journey I as a writer have been with them, the ups and downs, the turns… I cried and laughed so much and it fills my heart in a way that anything else can’t.

To the families/people going through adoption, I hope you get those papers, from the bottom of my heart. Last but not least, @forbidden-forest-witch thank YOU for the niece inspiration 🥰💕

Word count: 3,368

⚠️ Extra fluff

Cillian flopped on the couch with a groan, after loading the car to its maximum capacity with all the things Yael bought for their visit to the orphanage. Scout jumped next to him exhausted from following them inside and outside.

“What are you doing?” His wife called from the kitchen, getting closer she decided to join them on the couch, by sitting on Cillian’s lap.

“Taking a break.” He chuckled and her whole world lit.

“Lee-Anne sent me money to buy a few snacks for the children and Jenna bought them boxes of orange and apple juice.” Yael explained running her fingers through his locks. “God, I’m going to miss these.”

Cillian closed his eyes, giving into the relaxing feeling her fingers were providing him.

“They did? That’s very, very thoughtful.” He opened one of his eyes a little, if she continued doing that he’d be sleeping in less than five minutes.

“Yes, and your sisters donated loads of new toys, can you believe they still have the tags attached?” Her eyes sparkled in excitement.

“Mhmm.”

“You’re not even listening to me.” Yael half complained attempting to get up, but Cillian’s arms wrapped around her waist firmly to stop her.

“‘Course I’m.” He rubbed his nose against the crook of her neck, taking in her fragrance.

“Oh there it is… the Tommy Shelby voice.” Yael leaned back to look at her husband, he had a gushing expression as he cupped her face.

“No it’s not.” Cillian debated.

“ I can totally see it, don’t try to hide it.”

She saw him tilting his head and doing his signature pout.

“Staaaawp.” She giggled, the more she looked at him, the more evident it was.

In a fluent motion, Cillian pinned her beneath his body.

“And now you’re going to tell me you don’t like it?” Cillian raised his eyebrow.

Yael bit her lower lip, her eyes sparkling. “Actually… I love it.”

“I’m sure those kids will be so happy with all the things you bought for them.” Cillian admitted leaning down and kissing all over her jaw.

“Don’t you think it’s too much?” Yael asked tentatively, doubting for an instance.

Cillian’s hands cupped her face gently. “Not at all,” he held his weight above her and went back for another kiss, “why do I have a feeling that this isn’t the first time you’re getting involved in a project like this?” A soft smile spread on his lips and his blue orbs were shining just like hers.

“I feel like this is my call, you know? Just like when I chose to study photography…”

A tender smile grew on his lips while he ran his hand up and down her thigh.

“You know I support you fully on this, right?”

Instead of answering her husband with words, Yael choose to give him kiss after kiss, a small peck on the corner of his lips, smooches sounds filled the living room, Cillian felt Yael smiling and his hand cupped her cheek as she moved back. She’d be forever grateful for having him by her side not only during the difficult times, but also to see the growing in different aspects of their lives.

She ran her hands over his shoulders, feeling his biceps. A content sigh slipped from her lips.

“I’m really excited about this.”

Cillian smiled widely at her happiness, it was literally oozing from every pore reflecting beautifully in her eyes and features.

“There’s so much to do, these kids they don’t have someone who looks out for them, wh-what if they need shoes? Or glasses to see? A doctor if they get sick?”

Cillian was mesmerized by the passion in her voice, she was so humble and genuine, so it wasn’t really a surprise to see how her engagement was enveloping him as well.

“We’ve plenty of time to see what else they might need at the orphanage, we should get going though.” He gave her then a playful slap on her bum. “So you’re not going to spend our budget on spa days and shopping huh?”

“Nope, I’m going to buy loads of things for the orphanages.” Yael accepted the coat Cillian was holding for her and after letting Scout know they’d be later, she linked her arm with his.

“More than one?” Cillian added a dramatic look but didn’t hide the grin that turned the corner of his lips upwards. “Are you sure you don’t want a spa day? I’m sure it’s cheaper.”

Yael laughed feeling her cheeks burning. “Don’t worry I’m planning on doing a professional photo shoot in a few weeks to raise funds.”

As Cillian drove, he placed his hand on her thigh. “How so?”

“People like accountants, nurses, anyone basically will have the chance to get their picture taken professionally to use it for their resume it’s a quick session I’m thinking twenty-thirty minutes, one after another and then sending the digital images so they can upload their resume or web page. So from the price I’ll only take the money to rent the office and the rest I’ll donate it equally to two or three orphanages.”

“I love this and I love you. This speaks volumes about you and your heart.” He felt more than proud of the way Yael decided to turn things around. Instead of becoming anger and resentful for not being able to have children biologically or the slow process she was looking for a way to help.

“We’re touched by your generosity Mr. and Mrs. Murphy.” The responsible of the orphanage thanked them as they finished unloading the truck of their vehicle.

“We’ve family and friends involved in this, although they couldn’t join us unfortunately.” Yael explained.

“That’s lovely, having the community support and share a little bit of what they have with the children has a huge impact.” She motioned them to join the children in the patio of the house, volunteers helped them organize the children in a line. “Kids, we’ve visitors today, Mr. and Mrs. Murphy and I heard they brought snacks over!”

A loud round of cheering took them by surprise, bringing Yael to the edge of tearing at the happy smiles they got in response after a loud thank you the kids shouted in chorus.

“Do you like it Shioban?” Yael crouched down at the little girl’s height as she handed her a stuffed animal.

“I love it! Thanks!”

Ages varied just as personalities, it was a shock at first to be surrounded by so many kids, but they all were so well behaved, listened carefully to the instructions and remained in silence when an adult was talking, sharing excited glances at the boy or girl standing next to them.

Yael and Cillian explained they brought over books to read, a few chairs, toys and game boards they would be giving the responsible of the place to take to the reading room they had, they also brought a few first aid kit, plastic glasses and some clothes. The happiness in the children’s faces hit them deep, touching every fiber of their bodies.

“That was the last one,” Cillian sighed surprised by all the energy he felt the kids had been taking from him, they were so demanding, asking loads of questions, shouting over to get whatever they had in their hands.

“Shall we give them their snacks? That should keep them busy for a while.” Suggested the orphanage’s director.

Cillian nodded touching the head of a girl who was already in line. “How about you go and take your place at the table sweetie? I’ll bring your lunch in a minute.”

The girl nodded and stormed to take her place.

Later on when they left the orphanage, Yael felt something else, it was a bittersweet feeling. For leaving so soon and for thinking that she wasn’t doing enough.

Before they left, Cillian was gifted with a couple of drawings and Yael had a few colorful bracelets made by the girls. They both promised they’d go back soon and invite their family and friends.

“Did you see that little boy, Jax playing with the ball we gave him?” Yael beamed once in the car, touched by the memory of the kid running to give her a hug and then storm to play.

Cillian kissed her temple, still fighting the lump in his throat after such emotional moment at the orphanage they visited.

Learning the background stories of some of the children left them heartbroken as it was very mixed, some had been taken away due to violence or their parents passing away, others were left because they couldn’t cover the kid’s expenses. But either way it was hard to digest.

“If I could, I’d adopt them all.” Yael admitted, her voice sounded shaky.

“I know you would, love.” Cillian gave her hand a firm squeeze. “Now how about we grab a coffee before your photoshoot?”

Adjusting on her seat, Yael nodded and leant onto his shoulder as her husband drove. His comfort and support meant to her a lot more than words could express.

****

Sometimes her photo sessions got longer than expected, so Yael arrived home past seven o’clock. Tired but pleased by the way the photos turned out.

Noticing a vehicle in her driveway, she stepped inside greeted by Scout and the loud tap of his tail, wiggling from side to side. Kissing the top of his head, she caressed the muzzle gently noticing the voices coming from the kitchen.

“Hey Orla, hello Sienna!” Yael greeted them going for a quick peck on the lips from her husband. “What’s the matter?”

She focused on her niece’s puffy eyes.

“Someone thought it was a funny idea to stick gum on Sienna’s hair, we had to cut it to get rid of it… I tried ice, well everything.” Orla shared with a sad expression.

“What’s the problem with these children?! Are you alright baby girl?” She went to give the girl a hug.

“She wanted to see you.” Orla smiled.

“Oh! Yes of course do you wanna have dinner?” Yael looked at her husband they didn’t know yet what they’d do but she was sure they’d figure something out.

“I wish, but I can’t… there’s a phone call I need to take with other parents.”

“Mama can I stay here?” Sienna asked.

“No darling, they’re probably busy-”

Yael looked at Cillian and he knew immediately what she was about to suggest.

“She can stay tonight, if you want of course.”

Orla had been on the edge all day, emotions right at the surface so having someone taking over mommy duty for one night sounded wonderful.

“Pleaseeeee.” Sienna asked with big puppy eyes.

“Are you sure this is alright?” She looked at her brother, finding a nod as answer. “Fine, but be a good girl, okay?”

“Okay!” Sienna clapped excitedly and jumped from the kitchen island to tackle Scout.

“We can drive her tomorrow morning.” Yael offered with a genuine smile.

Orla was still torn, but relieved at the same time. “Do you need anything?”

“Please just go, don’t be noisy.” Cillian waved at her, making Yael giggle.

“Grand, I’ll see you tomorrow kiddo.” Orla kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Enjoy the sleepover.”

“We can watch a movie, would you like that?” Yael felt a rush of love spread through her body as her niece gave a little jump. “Help me find the popcorn first.”

“Tell me what’s going on… Orla? What’s the problem?”

His sister looked down, he knew her so damn well.

“I’m pregnant and we didn’t even planned for it.” She confessed worriedly.

Cillian’s features softened and hugged his sister. “Congratulations! But why are you acting like this?”

Orla let out a low sob, she was so emotional. “Because you guys have trouble starting a family and it kind of feels wrong.”

“Hey non of that, I’m so happy for you and you should enjoy it as well, it’s a wonderful news!”

“But I’m worried about Yael I don’t want to make her feel bad like I’m rubbing it in her face.”

“Stop worrying about that, yes we wish it was us every time we hear about a baby, but it doesn’t mean she won’t be happy for you.” He kissed his sister on the cheek. “Now take a deep breath and text me when you get home, love you.”

“Thank you, for everything.” She wiped her eyes and shouted goodbye to her daughter and sister in law.

Of course it was a bittersweet sweet feeling for both of them, but they were stronger than this and there was no chance to take it personally.

“Did you pick a movie yet?” Yael asked as she joined her niece in the TV room upstairs, already changed into a decent pajama top and bottom because she regularly wore Cillian’s clothes to sleep.

Placing the tray of snacks in the middle, Sienna had a look of surprise.

“I love your braid!” Sienna beamed pointing at her aunt’s hairstyle.

“Thanks, if I don’t braid it the following morning it will be a mess.” She chuckled. “Do you want me to braid yours?”

“Yes! Please.”

After a few minutes she came back from the master bedroom with a box full of hair ties, a comb and a brush, finding Cillian eating the popcorn.

“I hope you’re leaving some for us, mister.” Scout gave her a guilty look.

Cillian extended his hand to offer her a popcorn. One.

“Really?”

“I was showing you the one I’m eating.” He shoved it into his mouth and handed his wife the bowl with the rest with a smirk.

Internally melting at the sight of Yael brushing his niece’s hair. He simply knew she’d be the greatest mother one day.

Cillian was in awe at her abilities to move her hands as she braided Sienna’s hair, but at the same time he could see how careful she was.

“Okay drums roll please…” Yael handed Sienna a mirror so she could check herself and how the braids turned out. “It’s harder to make it to someone else ‘cause I need to think how to do in the opposite direction.”

“I don’t know how you do it.” He got comfortable at his wife’s lap now that she was free, resting his head on her thighs.

“I love it auntie!” Sienna expressed and Yael felt like her heart could explode.

So the three of them plus Scout snuggled closer to enjoy the rest of the film.

By the time the film was done, Sienna was sound asleep so quietly they got the remaining of their food downstairs. Cillian gave his wife a long look.

“Did she talk to you about the gum?”

“Yeah… guess it was harder than she showed, but luckily the piece of hair Orla cut can hide, she’s a fantastic kid I don’t understand why that girl is determined to bother Sienna.” She added while cleaning the top of the kitchen island. “I feel so bad for her, this human stupidity is getting out of hand.”

Cillian sighed, hands on his hips. “Hopefully the principal will take actions against that bully.”

“I know violence is not the way, but I swear some people need to see red from time to time.”

He couldn’t have said that better. “Let’s go upstairs now, we’ll clean that tomorrow.” He added grabbing his wife by the hips to guide her out of the kitchen.

Minutes later they went back into their TV room, and turning off the lights, Cillian and Yael went to lay down next to their niece and Scout. Whispering goodnight to each other, Yael snuggled into the crook of his neck, feeling his hands running up and down her back.

They both loved to feel that they were a safe place to Sienna, looking forward to be there for her as much as they could so in a near future when the teen age started their bond would be closer and stronger.

The following morning after having breakfast, Orla picked up Sienna from her brother’s house and Yael went to the suburbs for a photoshoot, her heart had been pounding from the first minute she let the couple who requested her photography services for their special occasion.

They had a gorgeous scenery, they oozed happiness and love for each other, but the reason behind their photoshoot it’s what touched Yael’s heart.

It was hard but not impossible to think this was a huge coincidence and she spent most of the session wiping her eyes. They were a lovely couple and the photos flew so easily. She was planning on edit those first thing once she got home to print and send the digital copies as soon as possible.

That’s why when Cillian offered to pick her up when the photoshoot was over, she agreed immediately, excited to see him.

“Wow, it’s safe to assume they didn’t give you loads of trouble with the poses?” He leaned in for a quick peck after seeing her big smile.

“You’re not going to believe this, but you can have a sneak peek.” Yael clicked a few times on her camera, scrolling through the images, stopping in one of her favorites.

“Can’t believe this.” His hand flew to his forehead in surprise and looked at his wife.

“I know! Thought the same, they’ve been in the process for a while, and the first time they picked a family at the last minute the biological parents called of the adoption papers and they were left with a broken heart. However… they tried again and this time they chose a little boy he’s seven-years old and they fell in love with him, like love at first sight.”

Without realizing Cillian’s hand was caressing Yael’s shoulders, touched by the story behind the photographs.

“They finally got green light from the judge to finalize the adoption and they’re heading to court next week to sign the papers. But they kept it very low key, she told me a lot of people tried to convince her this was a wrong idea.”

Sighing, Cillian thought about it for a second. “It’s always for the best to keep important things to yourself. Sadly people ruin plans if you share them beforehand.”

Yael wrapped her arms around his torso as they walked towards his car parked at the other side of the park.

“There are so many kids looking for a family… and parent looking for a kid.” Emotions taking over her. “But I also think…”

“Whot?”

The look she gave him sent chills all over his body. But in a good way.

“These kind of matches is just like love you know? There’s an instant connection.”

Brushing away a loose lock, he kissed the top of her head.

“Amen.”

Yael giggled, little by little she was getting more comfortable with the process, knowing that it was meant to be.

As they reached the car, his phone started ringing. When Cillian took a look at the screen his heart rate went up rapidly.

“It’s the social worker.”

Yael had an adrenaline rush. “Go! Answer it.”

As she helped him put it in speaker, her hands started shaking.

“Hello? Mr. Murphy?”

“Ya.”

“Just calling to let you know the home study has been approved,” the woman stated and they could t believe what they just heard, …”you can continue now with the interview process and-”

“Goodness! Is this real?”

“Yes Mrs. Murphy, my secretary will give you a call to tell you the date for the individual and joint interview.”

Their minds couldn’t process the rest of the phone call, everything was blurry.

Was that really happening?

“I’m sorry can you make sure it’s-” Yael’s hand flew to her mouth, her hands were shaking!

“The home study has been approved for Mr. and Mrs. Murphy…” she read part of the letter. “I’ll make sure to send the official papers to your house tomorrow morning.”

Thanking her and hanging up the phone, Cillian pulled Yael for a tight hug, not finding the right words to say, but feeling extremely blessed and relieved. This was a huge step in the process, so now they could focus on keeping their hopes high.

Next part

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#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #cillianmurphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fiction #cillian murphy fan fiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy oc

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mariacallous · 10 days

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On a stifling April afternoon in Ajmer, in the Indian state of Rajasthan, local politician Shakti Singh Rathore sat down in front of a greenscreen to shoot a short video. He looked nervous. It was his first time being cloned.

Wearing a crisp white shirt and a ceremonial saffron scarf bearing a lotus flower—the logo of the BJP, the country’s ruling party—Rathore pressed his palms together and greeted his audience in Hindi. “Namashkar,” he began. “To all my brothers—”

Before he could continue, the director of the shoot walked into the frame. Divyendra Singh Jadoun, a 31-year-old with a bald head and a thick black beard, told Rathore he was moving around too much on camera. Jadoun was trying to capture enough audio and video data to build an AI deepfake of Rathore that would convince 300,000 potential voters around Ajmer that they’d had a personalized conversation with him—but excess movement would break the algorithm. Jadoun told his subject to look straight into the camera and move only his lips. “Start again,” he said.

Right now, the world’s largest democracy is going to the polls. Close to a billion Indians are eligible to vote as part of the country’s general election, and deepfakes could play a decisive, and potentially divisive, role. India’s political parties have exploited AI to warp reality through cheap audio fakes, propaganda images, and AI parodies. But while the global discourse on deepfakes often focuses on misinformation, disinformation, and other societal harms, many Indian politicians are using the technology for a different purpose: voter outreach.

Across the ideological spectrum, they’re relying on AI to help them navigate the nation’s 22 official languages and thousands of regional dialects, and to deliver personalized messages in farther-flung communities. While the US recently made it illegal to use AI-generated voices for unsolicited calls, in India sanctioned deepfakes have become a $60 million business opportunity. More than 50 million AI-generated voice clone calls were made in the two months leading up to the start of the elections in April—and millions more will be made during voting, one of the country’s largest business messaging operators told WIRED.

Jadoun is the poster boy of this burgeoning industry. His firm, Polymath Synthetic Media Solutions, is one of many deepfake service providers from across India that have emerged to cater to the political class. This election season, Jadoun has delivered five AI campaigns so far, for which his company has been paid a total of $55,000. (He charges significantly less than the big political consultants—125,000 rupees [$1,500] to make a digital avatar, and 60,000 rupees [$720] for an audio clone.) He’s made deepfakes for Prem Singh Tamang, the chief minister of the Himalayan state of Sikkim, and resurrected Y. S. Rajasekhara Reddy, an iconic politician who died in a helicopter crash in 2009, to endorse his son Y. S. Jagan Mohan Reddy, currently chief minister of the state of Andhra Pradesh. Jadoun has also created AI-generated propaganda songs for several politicians, including Tamang, a local candidate for parliament, and the chief minister of the western state of Maharashtra. “He is our pride,” ran one song in Hindi about a local politician in Ajmer, with male and female voices set to a peppy tune. “He’s always been impartial.”

While Rathore isn’t up for election this year, he’s one of more than 18 million BJP volunteers tasked with ensuring that the government of Prime Minister Narendra Modi maintains its hold on power. In the past, that would have meant spending months crisscrossing Rajasthan, a desert state roughly the size of Italy, to speak with voters individually, reminding them of how they have benefited from various BJP social programs—pensions, free tanks for cooking gas, cash payments for pregnant women. But with the help of Jadoun’s deepfakes, Rathore’s job has gotten a lot easier.

He’ll spend 15 minutes here talking to the camera about some of the key election issues, while Jadoun prompts him with questions. But it doesn’t really matter what he says. All Jadoun needs is Rathore’s voice. Once that’s done, Jadoun will use the data to generate videos and calls that will go directly to voters’ phones. In lieu of a knock at their door or a quick handshake at a rally, they’ll see or hear Rathore address them by name and talk with eerie specificity about the issues that matter most to them and ask them to vote for the BJP. If they ask questions, the AI should respond—in a clear and calm voice that’s almost better than the real Rathore’s rapid drawl. Less tech-savvy voters may not even realize they’ve been talking to a machine. Even Rathore admits he doesn’t know much about AI. But he understands psychology. “Such calls can help with swing voters.”

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testingthewatersss · 5 months

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Ran Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, etc. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 2 / 3 1980 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI You told him it was a bad idea. That it was going to be loud. Luckily, he has somewhere to run too.

She watches him settle, smiling proudly as his metal fingers flutter upwards in search of a part of her to hold on to, they come to a satisfied stop when they reach the hem of her t-shirt, knotting in the cotton to tug at it restlessly, even though the man attached to them is seemingly deep asleep.

“Shhhh” she soothes, stroking his brow again, “’s okay, sweetheart, everything’s okay”

His jaw locks, and then releases at her assurances, and she only becomes more certain about their necessity when she hears his arm whine, metal plates folding down to form a smooth surface.

“d-do you require a mission report?” the unconscious man croaks, unsure and clearly afraid.

“No” Y/N is quick to reply, “I know you’ve done well, it’s time to rest now, it’s alright.”

He seems to like that, even though his eyelids flicker uncertainly as he gives her the smallest nod of agreement.

“Rest” she hears him repeat, voice almost inaudible now, “Rest.”

“Mhm” she hums, bringing his flesh knuckles to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss across them, “that’s right, rest.”

His breathing slows, again- his lips parting as he lets go of whatever tension had been lingering in his muscles before.

Y/N thinks he’s beautiful like this, he’s always lovely, she thinks, but seeing him so unguarded, so peaceful seems special, maybe it’s because he only seems to look like this with her, when they’re alone, or maybe it’s just because it’s nice to see him so tranquil, when he’s usually trying so hard to hold it together.

She strokes his hand, she spends a few minutes showering him in gentle touches, in whatever contact she can, until he seems totally settled, at which point, with a final kiss against his broken thumb nail, she picks a book up from her side, depositing his hand against her side as she starts to read, letting him be silent and still on her lap.

The room is quiet, the soundproofing Tony had installed for her seems to be doing it’s job, because even though she knows the match the others have been watching must be ending, she can’t hear a thing through the walls.

A few hours pass, and Bucky stays pliant and heavy in position, it’s only when the clock on the wall catches her eye, that she considers waking him. It’s evening, now, and she knows he hasn’t eaten, she hasn’t either, but she’s less concerned about that, it’s him who barely touches anything when she’s not there to remind him it’s alright, that the food is for him, that it’s not going to be ripped away at any moment.

It worries her, the thought of him being hungry, but too afraid to mention it is almost too much for her too tolerate.

“FRIDAY?” she calls quietly, “Order us a pizza or two, please, cheese and that, meat one that Steve likes, ask someone to bring it, when it arrives.”

The AI conveys it’s polite agreement at a similar, tempered volume, and although Barnes’ arm creaks at the disturbance, when she runs a comforting hand through his hair, the noise chokes off, and he slips back down into stillness.

It’s Natasha who brings the food, when it turns up 40 minutes later, in cardboard boxes spotted with rain.

She’s silent, as she opens the door to their suite, giving Y/N a kiss on her cheek as she lowers the containers onto the sideboard and exits before she can risk waking the man who’s still managing to cling to sleep against his lover.

Y/N makes a mental note to buy her something shiny.

In the end, she doesn’t have to say anything to wake Bucky up, she just has to open the pizza boxes, and take out a slice.

The smell of food rouses him, making his mouth water, making his stomach cramp as he rubs his nose into her thighs, trying to suppress the way he’s ready to beg for as little as a mouthful of something cooked.

“Hey, sweetheart” he hears a familiar voice coo, further bringing him round, “I’ve got dinner, for when you’re up”

He can barely believe his luck when he blinks his eyes open, and is met with the sight of Y/N, beaming at him sweetly with a collection of food by her side.

“I…” he gulps, “That’s for us?”

Y/N chuckles softly, reaching over with her clean hand to card his hair back, again

“Sure it is” she tells him, “I got that one Steve always gets, figured you’d like it too”

Bucky shifts a little, straightening up despite the ache in his bones.

“I’d eat anythin’ you’d give me” he murmurs honestly, as his knees click.

I’m just lucky to get fed.

Her head shakes, as she grins, pushing the meal towards him, shuffling over a little so he can slip in beside her.

“I figured you’d skipped lunch” she comments, not wanting to sound like she’s scolding him, “It’s good, too” she adds, smiling at him again, “we’ll have to tell Steve that he’s onto a winner”

The box is hot on his lap, now. He’s blinking down at a pizza that’s half cheese and half, whatever order she’s talking about Rodgers’ having gotten right, and despite the stabbing pains in his stomach, he realises he can’t make himself reach down to take a slice.

His arm groans with tension as he brings vibranium fingers up to prod at his scar. It’s absentminded, the ache in the flesh beneath the solid metal is grounding, so is the heat of Y/N’s palm, when it lands suddenly against his jaw, steady and gentle.

In…Out…In…Out

Breathing is good, he thinks, he can focus on it, he can make himself inhale slowly through his nose, he can make himself expel it through his lips.

“Not hungry?” Y/N prompts, knowing he is-

“I am” he replies quietly, suspecting she doesn’t really need is confirmation.

She hums, keeping her hand against his face as he drags in another, deeper, lung full of air.

Bucky presses hard along the back of his shoulder, letting himself really feel the plates beneath the jagged, raised, scar.

He hisses when his thumb catches a bump that feels suspiciously like a screw.

Y/N’s brow furrows, and she curls her own thumb up across his cheek, pulling his eyes to hers.

“Stop” she soothes calmly, gaze flicking to his hand, “Eat now, sweetheart, it’s alright”

His arms drop in surrender, he feels the strangest urge to look away.

There’s a flush of red creeping up his neck, it’s prickling and warm-

Bucky realises it’s being caused by shame. By the shame he’s feeling, now, as he struggles to eat, even though he’s hungry.

“Sweetheart” Y/N murmurs, coaxing his eyes back over to her face, “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know” he replies, realising, as he says the words, that they’re true, “I’m sorry, doll- I- I don’t know why I’m doin’ this”

“You’re not doing anything” she counters quickly, offering him another smile, as he pecks a soft kiss to her palm, “anythin’ I can do?”

He lets his eyes drop shut for a moment, as he relishes in the feeling of her fingers trailing across his jaw-

His pulse is thrumming through his veins, she can feel it throbbing as she traces his skin.

A few minutes pass quietly, until he blinks his eyes open, and lets himself look around the room.

“Ca-“ he begins, before clearing his throat shyly, and making himself turn to face his lover, “Can I eat down there?” he asks, nodding to the floor, to the corner of the room, where he thinks he might stand a chance at feeling less visible.

The idea of being alone on the ground isn’t particularly appealing, really. Bucky doesn’t want to lose the feeling of Y/N against his side, he doesn’t want to part from her, even for an instant- but he’s starving, and if tearing himself away from the safe space he’s found on her bed, to eat on the ground like an animal is his only option, then, he’ll take it, no matter how terrible he’ll feel once he’s full.

“Only if I can come too” Y/N purrs, snapping him back to the present.

His head tilts, eyes muddled as he processes her response.

“Are- Are you serious?” he asks, cautious- barely daring to believe that she means what she’s saying

“Of course I am” she half chuckles, reaching down to grab her own pizza box, “C’mon, handsome, it’s gettin’ cold”

Bucky is still just watching, when Y/N is well and truly settled in her place on the floor. Her back is resting against the wall, her dinner on her lap.

He follows, earnestly hoping that she won’t change her mind, that she won’t move back to the bed, or start to tease him some how, about his desire to hide in a corner.

He drops to his haunches on her right, wide eyed and adoring.

“What?” Y/N asks, with a mild tone of joking in her voice, “Do I have somethin’ on my face?”

“No” he replies quickly, averting his gaze as he settles into position, “No, doll, you’re- you’re beautiful”

Y/N chuckles, nudging his shoulder playfully as he finally makes himself start to eat.

It lightens to tension in his gut, it helps him continue to feed himself without bile flooding his mouth at the thought of how much he’s being allowed to consume at once.

It feels awfully strange- being well fed, and comfortable, and safe, after spending a life time being starved, and tortured and in danger.

It’s only when he’s almost done with his meal that Bucky considers the fact that comfort is very much subjective, and the floor where he’s sitting now, is much less desirable than the bed he’d been on before.

Guilt stabs at his chest, leaving a familiar sickness to churn his stomach.

His eyes flick sidewards, to the woman he loves, to the woman he’s dragged down with him.

She’s smiling, wiping her hands on her pants, and looking anything but displeased.

He’s confused. It shows in a crease between his brows, he’s just about to look away when Y/N catches his gaze, and widens her smile.

“I’m sorry” he says instantly, “I’m sorry I- I brought you down here, doll- you- you should go get, get comfortable up-”

She laughs, soft and sweet in the air between them.

His cheeks flush redder, he chews his lip, feeling utterly undeserving of the sound.

“I’m comfortable here” she tells him, more sincerely, now she can see the sadness behind his eyes, “I’ve eaten dinner in much worse places”

She hears him hum- he’s still looking at his knees, and she can see the way his metal fingers are twitching. She decides to cut him off, bringing her own palm down to cover his, before he can bring it up to worry at his scar, again.

“What are we gonna do with you, huh?” he hears her whisper

His fingers curl around hers, he blinks shyly at her, before shrugging, and looking away.

“whatever you want” he mumbles in honest response, “I’m yours, I- I’m always gonna’ be yours, I think”

It’s Y/N who hums then, considerate and quiet.

Bucky thinks he should probably look at her again, maybe he owes her some kind of apology too? He’s not sure about that, he always feels like he should be saying sorry for one thing or another, and at best, she laughs his statement off, pecking his cheek to remind him his remorse is misplaced, and at worst, she straight up tells him to stop apologising.

He’s not sure he can take something that close to a scolding right now. Not with how delicate he’s feeling.

“I think we better get you showered, then, handsome- then you’re comin’ to bed”

1 | x | 3

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #x reader #drabble #series #BBran #angst

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asimplearchivist · 9 months

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𝑪𝑯. 𝑽 — 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑫 𝑩𝑨𝑹𝑬𝑳𝒀 𝑬𝑨𝑻.

𝐂𝐇. 𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary 🕷️ ⤏ miguel is forced to have a heart-to-heart. pairing 🕷️ miguel o’hara/spider!reader word count 🕷️ 4.5k a/n 🕷️ [gif credit] ⤏ sorry this chapter is a day late, i started back to college today and i managed to finish this by avoiding a mental breakdown bc who doesn't love getting overwhelmed by the workload right off the bat? maybe this one being a little longer will smooth things over. ⤏ this chapter was supposed to be in reader’s pov with a totally different scenario in mind, but I’ll probably use that idea for another chap instead bc I ran out time getting ready for this week and already had some of this written beforehand. I’ll probably require a little more patience with updates going into this semester, but I’m going to try to keep them weekly unless the workload proves too much for my mushy little brain to handle! ⤏ and to anyone else starting back up to school, good luck and remember to take care of yourselves! you’re all beautiful and I love you for taking the time to read my silly little fics. :) ⤏ this one does get a little heavy, y’all—please mind the content warnings listed on this fic’s masterpost, linked below. wounds have to be cleaned before they can heal. 🕷️ MASTERPOST 🕷️ 🕷️ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ 🕷️ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER [TBA] 🕷️

You were different. You looked different.

Despite your near-identical physical and facial features and expressions, the nervous flutter of your hands you always hastily stuffed into your pockets to hide them from sight, the faded denim bomber jacket with embroidered patches hand-sewn along the shoulders and threading at the cuffs that you refused to remove even though HQ stayed a steady seventy degrees and required no such outerwear (and over your thermally regulated UMF suit, no less)—among the countless other details he had compared and filed away into the back of his mind to avoid thinking about them all for too long—you weren’t his esposa.

Miguel had to get that through his head right now. He’d already made that mistake once.

As Jess had predicted, you fit seamlessly into the Spider Society. You got along with all of the main task squad, including Peter B. (as much as that fact irked Miguel to no end), and even the most stoic of the Spider-People with whom you interacted in passing.

You were such a fucking ray of sunshine, friendly to a fault, never failing to have them all smiling by the end of your conversations, no matter how short. You had won nearly the entire collective over with your baked goods—it became routine within a week for you to bring in whatever you failed to sell by the end of the day, and within fifteen minutes the supply was always depleted on a first-come, first-serve basis. Multiple scuffles had already broken out over the delicacies, and Miguel had exasperatedly requested that LYLA put up a waitlist tablet in the cafeteria that they could queue themselves and you could update to avoid future conflicts.

He was finally able to apologize to the AI. After Peter B. had taken you on the tour, she’d emerged in a flicker looking slightly less displeased now that he’d smoothed over his mistake. Once he admitted that he shouldn’t have kept anything from Jess and or snapped at either of them, regardless of the circumstances, she’d perked right back up to normal and had resumed her chirpy, irreverent demeanor. (Much to his chagrin.)

It was good, because LYLA could hold a grudge unlike anyone whom Miguel had ever met. (Maybe that was his fault, to an extent.)

Despite the somewhat rocky start to your recruitment and the argument you and he had shared, you made it a point to visit Miguel when you did make your deliveries no matter what. You tried to start small-talk the first few times, but either he was too invested in his analyses—zoned in to the point that even his hyperactive senses blocked out any other stimuli—or he couldn’t muster the emotional fortitude to formulate proper responses from hearing your voice again after particularly bad nights, so most of the time you entered silently, left him your humble offerings (always his favorites), and departed without a word. He stayed on a strict diet to maintain his mass and bulk, and consuming that much sugar that regularly would inevitably ruin him, but…it always smelled so good, tasted even better, and he would be halfway done eating them when he would realize that his resolve had cracked. (Again.)

Miguel was uncertain of your motivations. He hadn’t exactly reciprocated any of your amicability—had barely spoken ten words to you throughout the entire week after you and Jess had backed him up with the Goblin. You’d gone out on a couple of trial runs with Peter B. and Jess since then to get you more accustomed to multiversal travel, and you had transported a couple of rather disoriented lesser villains-of-the-week to their home dimensions without any trouble. Your reflexes, strategizing, adaptability, and burgeoning leadership had condensed hours of wrangling into less than one each time you set out. Your reports were immaculate, and Peter B. and Jess showered you in endless praises once you would return home.

Miguel had watched, so of course he knew how efficiently you worked—but he hadn’t wanted to admit that he’d been observing, and thus let them talk without comment. He had to admit that it was good that he’d bitten the bullet and had recruited you. He could already tell that you would exponentially improve their success rate. You were an excellent Spider-Woman, and your additional work off-world hadn’t impacted that on your own in the slightest.

If only he could get over himself long enough to treat you like everyone else.

The others had already noticed his withdrawal. He wasn’t exactly extroverted by nature, and he certainly wasn’t a man of many words, but Jess had already tried twice to get him to open up about what was bothering him. Peter B. had yet to strike, and Miguel looked forward to avoiding him and that previously promised conversation for as long as possible…which meant that he reclused himself into the lab as much as he could physically stand it.

Which, of course, didn’t last.

“Miguel?”

The man let out a heavy sigh, tipping his head back and to the side to glare at the apparition glowing near his shoulder. “I thought I told you to let me know when he came close.”

“You did,” LYLA remarked idly, inspecting her incorporeal nails as she cycled through multiple shades, “and I did—you just ignored it, boss man.”

Miguel scowled and scrolled through the screens around him, spotting that very notification blinking at him urgently. He swiped crabbily to dismiss it into the ether, gritting his teeth as Peter effortlessly latched onto the edge of the platform and hoisted himself up onto it.

“I thought MJ had an appointment today,” Miguel groused, focusing resolutely on a diagram projecting the potential increase of interspatial warps.

“She did. Three hours ago.” Peter nudged him in the arm. “Did you really lose track of that much time?”

Miguel’s eyes cut over to the clock he had shrunk and put to the side—as well as the timer that was supposed to chime every hour for him to walk around, stretch, and rest his eyes for ten minutes. He’d snoozed it so many times that it had, evidently, given up altogether—or LYLA had disengaged it to keep from annoying him further. He scoffed softly at the time. “I’ve been busy.”

“I’ll say. Your new little protege sure has turned the entire collective upside down.”

“Just say what you want to say and be done with it, Peter. I’m not in the mood.”

A beat of silence. Out of the corner of Miguel’s eye, the older man’s expression had tightened. “It seems like you already know what I’m going to say.”

“Then why are we even having this conversation?”

“Because I’m worried about you. You know. Like friends ought to be.”

Miguel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “You see me as a liability.”

“I am worried,” Peter reiterated flatly, “that you’re going to get yourself hurt again.”

“Believe me, Peter, I’ve learned my lesson.” Miguel turned about lazily on his heel to face him and bracing his hands on his hips. “You don’t have to spend your precious time worrying about me.”

“I’m going to, regardless.” Peter didn’t have an ounce of insincerity on his face, even as Miguel sneered down at him with half-lidded eyes. “Look. Recruiting her was a good thing. She’s excellent at what she does, and she’ll probably end up on the main squad soon enough with how reliable and level-headed she is. She’s already been tinkering in the robotics lab in some of her free time and blowing the minds of the Spiders that work there. She’s got a lot of potential.” He folded his arms over his chest—for once lacking that damnable bathrobe. “She’s a lot like you, actually, with how independent she is trying to take responsibility for everyone and everything around her. I can already see the martyr and/or hero complex working, or whatever it is about you that you can’t seem to accept help until you absolutely need it.”

Miguel narrowed his eyes at him.

“Don’t give me that look.” Peter pointed his index finger and jabbed him in the sternum. “I’m not stupid, Miguel. Don’t try to lie to me and tell me that you recruited her entirely out of the goodness of your heart.”

“I agreed with Jess that she would fit the bill.”

“She’s also a duplicate of your dead wife.”

Miguel’s upper lip curled back in a silent snarl, baring his fangs. “Careful, Peter.”

Heedless to the danger he tread into, as always, Peter carried on without flinching once. “Put those away—I’m not trying to antagonize you. I just want to know what’s going on in your head so I can help.”

“I didn’t want to,” Miguel pointed out, doggedly avoiding that idea, “and I got scolded for arguing against it, so maybe you ought to go talk to Jess if you have qualms with her eye for recruitment.”

“It’s one thing that you took on another Spider,” Peter digressed, “but…Miguel. It’s only been two months. Are you sure you’re okay dealing with…all this? I know you’re still struggling, and that’s to be expected—what you went through is…beyond anything I could ever handle. Losing May has been hard enough, but losing an entire—”

“Don’t.” Miguel took a lumbering step forward, shoulders tightening. “Don’t you even think about it.”

“What, like you’ve been doing?” Peter shot back, patience thinning. The furrow between his brows deepened. “You may bury it so you don’t have to deal with the baggage, but I remember the aftermath. I remember having to put you back together, to keep you from going straight off the brink. You fell apart, Miguel—and that’s okay! Hell, I would’ve been more surprised if you hadn’t! But pardon my skepticism that you’re suddenly okay enough to be interacting with another version of your wife so soon!”

Miguel’s head throbbed with how tightly he ground his teeth to keep from shouting. “Do you honestly think,” he growled, “that I don’t think about it every second of every day?” He took another step forward, hedging Peter closer to the edge of the platform. “Do you really think that it doesn’t keep me up at all hours? That I’ve gotten a full night’s sleep since then? Do you really think I’m that cold?”

“No. I didn’t say that.” Peter’s eyes flashed. “But what you’re doing isn’t healthy, Miguel. Working yourself to death to avoid allowing yourself to heal isn’t going to get you anywhere but an early grave. And I’m just afraid that she’s going to exacerbate the problem—LYLA told me you’ve been in here for nearly twelve hours! You need to get out—go hit the gym or eat or—or—I don’t know, something! But if her being around is going to cause you to regress, I don’t know that I can condone it—regardless of whether Jess pushed for it or not.” His expression softened slightly, and he reached up to clasp Miguel’s shoulder. “I just don’t like seeing you suffer like this, and I know that you’re not going to ease up on yourself without outside intervention. You’re the one holding all of this together, sure, but you don’t have to be the only one. It won’t kill you to let us in.”

Miguel cast a scathing glare towards the AI, who merely shrugged noncommittally. He managed to retain enough will not to shrug off the grounding touch, even if it made his skin prickle with nerves. “This is my burden to bear,” he responded lowly. “And there’s too much at stake for me to falter now.”

Peter regarded him forlornly for a long moment, eyes scanning his resolute face, before releasing a defeated sigh and throwing his hands up before they landed against the fronts of his thighs with a resounding clap that echoed through the lab. “…All right. Sure. Just…let yourself break, then.” He turned to step to the edge of the platform. “But either way, I’ll still be here to help you get back up, Miguel. I, for one—and Jess, too—aren’t going anywhere just because you keep pushing us away. We’re staying right here because we know you need it, even if you don’t think you do. We’re not going to leave, no matter what.” He cast a glance at him over his shoulder. “I just hope that you can say the same about her, if you’re going to put yourself through all this for her sake.”

Peter leapt nimbly down, and Miguel counted his breaths until the doors swished shut. Only then did he let his resolve crack—and the monitor to his right paid a dear price for it.

“I think you really should listen to him,” LYLA said softly. “He’s only trying to look out for you.”

“I’ve had about enough of you,” Miguel muttered darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose and tucking his chin against his chest.

“Don’t make me lock up the computer. Your health is more important than all this. I’ll let you know if anything turns out abnormal.” She flitted to stare directly up into his eyes, imitating his hunch. “Eating something will help your headache go away, you know.”

He glared balefully down at her. “You’re not my fucking mother.”

“No, but apparently I have to act like her.” She made a shooing motion. “Vamos.* All this will still be waiting for you when you get back.”

“I… fine. Fine.” Miguel engaged the command to lower the platform, setting a timer on his watch for half an hour. LYLA ticked it up to a whole one with a snap of her fingers, ignoring his scowl. “LYLA.”

“Just part of my protocol, boss. Taking care of you is one of my top priorities.” She raised a brow at him. “You should know that by now.”

He…couldn’t refute that. It was a branch of code as deeply embedded into her programming as anything else. His wife had made sure of it.

“…Miguel?”

He stiffened.

LYLA blinked away, leaving him alone on the steadily descending platform. He looked down and spotted you emerging from the shadows, face pinched as you met his gaze.

“Yeah,” he responded tightly. “What is it?”

You held a paper sack in your hand, but the edges of the top were shredded slightly from fretful fingers. “I brought you a snack.”

He closed his eyes with a sigh, girding himself and stepping off the ledge as it finally rested to confront you directly. He accepted the bag. “Thanks.”

You were watching him carefully, eyes lingering a little too long for comfort.

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

You swallowed, troubled—the internal debate behind your carefully neutral expression was obvious in the way that you chewed the inside of your lip.

Miguel couldn’t say that he was fully kind when he prompted, very firmly, “I’ve already had one fucking heart-to-heart today. What’s one more?”

“You didn’t tell me I was your wife,” you said softly.

That statement took all the puff out of him in one fell swoop. Miguel’s shoulders sank and he looked off to the side. “How long were you listening?”

“Long enough.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think it pertinent to the job,” he mumbled.

“So you planned to avoid me instead. To spare yourself the migraine.” You shook your head. “You didn’t have to bring me on if you didn’t want to, regardless of what Jess said. I didn’t necessarily want to join, you know.”

“You’re good at this,” he protested. “We need you here.”

“I don’t want you to torture yourself for the sake of efficiency. Between the two of us, I’m more expendable.”

His brows furrowed. “You’re not—”

“I’m a danger to your wellbeing, if nothing else.”

“Don’t…” He sighed tersely. “Don’t let what Peter said get to you. He’s a worrywart who sticks his nose in others’ business where he doesn’t belong.”

“It’s only been two months?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We need to, if it’s going to be this big of an issue. If that’s the reason you can hardly stand to be around me or to look me in the eye…seeing as you’re the main piece to this outfit, obviously the solution is to remove me from the equation altogether.”

“No,” he gritted out. “It’s—”

“Don’t tell me it’s not a problem.”

“It isn’t one!” he retorted.

“For Peter to decide an intervention was necessary? Yeah, I’d sure fucking say it is.”

Miguel let out a low growl, watching your expression slowly cracking at the edges—lines formed in the corners of your mouth as you pursed your lips, a deep wrinkle between your brows—but you still kept that damnable monotone. The same you’d used when you’d initially rejected his invitation to the society.

Indifference as self-defense. Didn’t he know that well?

“Look,” he ground out, “regardless of my…personal background, I mean it when I say that it isn’t something you need to worry about. All my shit doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “Obviously that’s not the case.”

He had almost—almost—forgotten how impossibly stubborn you could be, and how badly it pissed him off when you were.

“It’s none of your business,” he retorted.

Your eyes flashed with indignation. “I would have liked to have known at the start—it would have explained the way you act around me and I wouldn’t have had to wonder what the hell I did wrong—but you probably didn’t because you figured it would’ve impacted my decision. And it would have, because I sure as hell didn’t want to put any stress between you and the others. If you knew me at all, you’d know that I hate getting involved in drama.”

“I do know you,” he responded, “and the reason I didn’t tell you is so you wouldn’t have to get involved. Even still, I don’t owe you an explanation—you’re not my wife.”

“No,” you spat, “but a version of me was! Don’t you think that earns me some basic civility? You convince me to take this job against your own wishes and then ignore me for a week? Do you even realize how shitty that is?”

Miguel stepped closer, looming over you, as the hot flush of anger began to creep out of his belly up his neck. “I have enough on my plate,” he muttered, “without you adding to the pot.”

“I wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t decided to bring me—if you’re going to be all wishy-washy about it, just let me go home and forget about the whole mess!”

Miguel clamped his jaw shut and closed his eyes tightly. “I…can’t do that.”

“And why the hell not?” You were matching his temper now, stoking it like kindling. “If it’s so bad for me to be here because I’m a duplicate of your dead wife, then why can’t you have the decency to act like my dead husband and communicate with me?”

He snapped. “Just because you were born with a mole behind your ear and burned your wrist baking lava cakes for your cousin’s wedding and got a crooked fucking cesarean scar because they let a goddamn student nurse stitch you up in post-op, you aren’t my fucking wife!”

The oppressive hush that directly followed the tapering echo of Miguel’s reverberating roar felt heavy enough to crush the air from his lungs. He dared not look away from your crestfallen expression for fear of letting slip the strict control over his that he metaphorically gripped with whitened, grinding knuckles. Even LYLA uttered not a sound, though it was of no consequence—Miguel could hear nothing but the infuriatingly rapid thrum of your heart as intimately as the mirrored pounding of his own just beneath his third and fourth ribs.

“…She lived?” you whispered hoarsely, to your credit never having flinched once at his enraged outburst. You didn’t even blink, staring at him with rounded, watering eyes and parted lips that only occasionally trembled.

The question was enough to off-center him, and he schooled his snarl into a slightly more composed scowl. “What?”

“She survived?” you croaked, your voice on the razor’s edge of breaking. “She actually made it?”

Dooming follow-ups indeed. Miguel vehemently wanted to refuse to answer them. Never did he want to rehash such a tender wound, especially given…every-fucking-thing about the present situation. It was hard enough having new members of the collective seeking solace in his losses in order to share the burden of their grief, but having such a conversation with (a version of) you…

“...Yeah.” He swallowed roughly. “The labor started two weeks early, and she was flipped over wrong. They had to remove her. She was in the NICU for three days, but…she turned out okay.” For a while, anyway—long before I ever got there.

You nodded, eyes falling to the floor as you worked your bottom lip between your teeth. Your restraint was admirable, but he could see the way you were trembling.

“That’s…that’s good.” You shook your head in a singular, abortive motion. “I…I guess something happened to her after, though. Right?”

Miguel, too, looked away. “Years later. Yeah.”

You nodded once. “…I’m sorry.”

He wanted to stay angry—it was so much easier to be angry than to be upset—but he couldn’t maintain it. Not with how heartbroken you looked. “It wasn’t your fault,” he responded flatly. “Either of you.”

“...What was her name?” you asked softly.

Miguel gritted his teeth. “Gabriella.”

You glanced up at him, the faintest suggestion of a smile tugging at the corners of your eyes. “After your brother?”

His throat clamped shut. He could only nod.

“I’ll bet she was beautiful.” You cleared your throat. “I hope she took after you, anyway.”

“She was. And…she did.”

Your expression shifted into something a little less readable. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you,” you started quietly. “I’m sorry if my being here has made it harder on you. I never meant to hurt you, or—”

“...Stop apologizing.”

“—to be a burden. I thought maybe I’d be able to finally get some closure being close to you, at least, even if you aren’t him, and—”

“Stop.”

“—I feel like I’ve just made it worse for you, and that was never my intention—”

“Stop it!” he pleaded, voice cracking. Your jaw clicked shut, looking stricken. “Please, fresa. Just drop it.”

You blinked. A tear slipped down your cheek. You opened your mouth.

“Don’t apologize,” he gritted out tightly.

“I…okay.” You swallowed, inwardly debating. You eventually caved at his defeated, if expectant, silence. “Did…did you call her that, too?”

Miguel squeezed his eyes shut, half-turning away from you. “...No. I called her Shortcake.” Gabriella’s mother had been Dulcita—but that was what his alternate self had used for her, so he’d adopted that instead to maintain his guise.

“...Oh.” You didn’t seem certain how to respond to that.

Miguel dragged a palm down his dampened face. “Look. It is…difficult. I can’t lie to you even if I wanted to. But you are rapidly proving to be integral to this team, and I’m not going to allow this to interfere with our combat compatibility in the field. But if it makes you uncomfortable, or if it bothers you, then it’s best if you’d just…go.”

“...Do you want me to leave?”

He glared at you. “What does that matter?”

“A hell of a lot.” Your gaze was resolute, unwavering. “I’ll only leave if you ask me to.”

Miguel regarded you for a long time. Finally, he let out a heavy, shaky exhale. “...No. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Okay. Then I’ll stay. And we’ll…work through this. Whatever this is.” You gestured between yourself and him. “For what it’s worth, while it hasn’t been easy by any stretch of the imagination…I still miss him, but it’s a relief when I’m around you, even if it only distracts me for a little while. It still hurts, but…it’s not as bad as it used to be.”

“I…agree.” Miguel opted to sit, sinking onto the edge of the platform and burying his face in his hands to avoid your eyes.

“...I miscarried.”

He peeked between his fingers without moving an inch.

You were fiddling with the fingertip of your suit, absently chewing on the inside of your cheek, gazing at the ground. “I didn’t know until after I’d lost her. Sneaking into a quarantined explosion site and getting bit by a radioactive spider didn’t agree with a baby, evidently.”

Miguel snapped eyes shut against their sudden, burning sting.

“It was too early to know anything. About two months. I…tortured myself about it for years. Felt like it was my punishment for not being there when…maybe if I had been, then Mig—you—he wouldn’t have…y’know.” You drew a shaky breath, your voice pitching with the strain of telltale tears. “She was the only piece of…of him that I had left,” you croaked hoarsely. “And I lost her, too.”

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured, shaking his head morosely.

“...I’m sure telling you the same thing wouldn’t make you feel any better, either.”

You weren’t wrong. “It’s been…longer than two months.”

He felt the weight of your stare on him—but it was sympathetic, not critical.

“I lost my wife three years ago.” He dug his fingertips into his eyes. “But I…did something two months ago that I regret. I learned something about canon events that I didn’t realize before. It…cost me a lot of lives. Countless lives.” He swallowed roughly, daring to look back at you through his dewy lashes. “My selfishness caused irreparable harm. An entire universe collapsed. I don’t want to make the same mistake—or lose you—again.”

Gone was any trace of ire from you. You only regarded him with those soft, sad eyes.

“I don’t want your pity,” he continued, preemptively, “I know I fucked up. I’m not making any excuses for what I did, just…trying to make reparations where I can. Not that there’s much of anything I can ever do to fix that.”

“I don’t pity you, Miguel,” you said softly. “But I am sorry that you’ve been hurt so badly.”

He ground his teeth, tucking his chin sharply against his chest. “It’s a sacrifice to do what I do. What we do. Even if we don’t want to do it. Even when we don’t want the bad that goes with the good.”

You stepped closer to stand between his feet. Your comparatively small, warm hand rested on his shoulder, a light but unwavering touch that anchored him more than he would readily admit. He resisted the urge to lean into it, but just barely. “That line of thinking doesn’t make it any easier, Miguel.”

He nodded silently. It really didn’t, but it was the doctrine he’d preach until he gave his last breath if it meant that another Spider-Person would find consolation in his words.

A long moment crawled by, and Miguel’s resolve was weakening by the second.

Finally, you withdrew your hand, eased back half a step, and turned. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He let you go. Your unspoken declaration lifted more weight from his shoulders than he realized he’d been carrying: you would stay, even though he’d already managed to hurt you.

He was already indebted to you beyond what he could repay.

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liiilyevans · 5 months

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Hi love, life's been a bit mad lately, and I've totally slacked off on the fanfic front. I noticed you've got AO3 on lockdown, and I've shot off a request for an invite too. Have you managed to start any fresh stories lately? Honestly, I'm a massive fan of your writing, and I can't wait to read more of your awesome stories!

Hello nonny! Yes I have just to be safe with all the AIs around.

I have a couple new stories at the moment.

Shatter Your Illusions of Love

Katie Bell is Healer at St. Mungo's. She deals with difficult patients all the time. Just usually not ones who have saved her life before.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Harry and Ginny's journeys through the holiday season, as well as Draco and Astoria's. Or, a contrast of these two wonderful couples.

A Christmas Miracle

Remus ran a hand over his face. Fortnite. He could see the headlines now. Young man driven to murder after his boyfriend failed to complete Christmas wrapping. He wondered if they served yams in prison. “Sirius-” “Reg is coming,” Sirius said, picking at the thread on the sleeve of his sweater. Remus’ brow furrowed. “Reg? As in your brother Regulus?” “That’d be him.” ~ With Regulus coming to their Christmas party, Remus can't help the protectiveness he feels over his boyfriend. Muggle AU.

#katie bell #marcus flint #marcus x katie #hinny #harry potter #ginny wealsey #drastoria #draco malfoy #astoria greengrass #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #hp

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cat-esper · 3 months

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therizinosaurus - share a scene that you’ve put a lot of work into and stegosaurus - share a humorous scene for the ask game?

Hey, thanks for the ask!

Therizinosaurus - share a scene that you've put a lot of work into

For this one, I'm going to share a snippet from Music of the Spheres, the book that will ultimately be the death of me. It's already been through what feels like a million iterations, but probably the bit I've worked on the most, aside from the first chapter, is the Monster Chapter (I've since chopped it up into smaller chapters but it will always be the Monster Chapter to me), which looks nothing like it did in draft 1 and will likely look nothing like the final draft. Still, here's a piece of it:

“Give as much as you can to the shields and bring us hard to starboard. Don’t compensate for rotational drift. Fire when ready.” It was maddening. It was all I could do not to tear my hair out. Pacing wouldn’t help. What was going on here? Were we losing? From the looks of it, we were losing. Another jolt came. And another. Everyone looked worried. Kri looked worried. I’m pretty sure I looked worried. “Shields down, attempting to compensate.” “Hull breach on Deck E.” Oh god, we were losing. “There are too many of them,” I said. I imagined what it would be like to lose life support, to get sucked into the vacuum of space and die. It always seemed like an unpleasant way to go. I clenched and unclenched my fists, sweat seeping through the bandages. Every shudder threw me against the wall and every shudder might have been the last. People were talking over each other, giving status reports that kept getting worse and worse as we tried to run. “Engines failing.” “Do we abandon ship?” I could only see the back of Captain Holt’s head but I imagined the grim look on her face. “The Krintoc will pick us off.” “We're drifting toward the planet. I'm getting nothing from the engines." “Everyone, brace for impact.” Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. I reached for the nearest chair and grabbed onto it, thankful it was bolted down. We were going to crash. My skin went hot and then cold. We were going to crash. Kri knelt next to me. I hadn’t even realized I’d gotten on the floor. All around me, I heard, “All hands. We are planet bound. Brace for impact. All hands. We are planet bound.”

Stegosaurus - share a humorous scene

This one's from The Last Paladin, book 1:

“Imagine me knowing two famous people,” Alexos said once they’d gotten sandwiches which were close enough to recognizable that Chelsea had no qualms about stuffing her face with them. “I’m not famous,” Chelsea said, starting to wish he would get over his obsession with the fact that she had spoken to Shay Finnegan a grand total of one time. “Are you famous?” she joked, looking at Chyan. “Uh…” Chyan quickly took a bite of her sandwich. “What? No way…” “Yes way,” Alexos chimed in. “You don’t know who this is? Of course not, you’ve lived on backwater, tiny marble Earth your whole life, you poor potato.” “Hey.” “Her father is Leyar of Caim. Robotics engineer. His partner is Dr. Kane effing Laakkonen. They took AI up to the next level. I bet you never heard of Eremon either. Most sophisticated android ever created. You can’t tell the difference between him or a Denebian. Looks close enough to pass for human too.” Alexos put a hand on his heart, sweeping the hair out of his face. “In an expanding universe, it’s not the gods who rule. It’s Laakkonen AI. Longevity, perseverance, discovery. Breaking the boundaries to see the future,” he said in an announcer’s voice like he was imitating an advertisement. “Shh. Sit down.” Chyan tugged on his shirt and he promptly plopped back down. He ran a hand through his hair. “I have done my humble duty introducing you two. Chelsea, I won’t take it personally if you run off to see this ground-breaking technology and leave poor old me behind.”

#music of the spheres #the last paladin #asks

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dannidorina · 22 days

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Red vs Blue: Restoration and Grief

So, I thought RvB: Restoration dropped on May 27th so I didn't expect to be watching it today, a day late, but through tears I just need to put this out into the universe.

CW // grief as a theme, personal grief, personal loss

SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE BELOW:

The show's key theme has always been about memory. That idea has been beaten into the ground by now. Memory is the key, it's what composed Epsilon, it's what drove both the reds and blues forward (being the only memory of their prior prerogatives: anti-red and anti-blue). All of it is memory based.

So this lends very much into the theme of grief. Memory is hand-in-hand with grief, it's one of the main drivers from where grief comes from. It's through memory that we remember those we've lost.

Some of THE quintessential quotes from the show are based around grief. "Never say goodbye. If you don't say goodbye, then you aren't really gone, you just, aren't here right now."

Some, if not most of you, know that I ran the Roses and Hydrangeas zine in memory for @sapphirescalemate. I also got a tattoo for her yesterday, finally, in her memory. So when I found out I got the tattoo on the release date of the final release of RvB?

Restoration was perfect. Perfect. The exact dose of old RvB I missed with just enough call backs to the post-13 seasons to make it feel well tied in. It's not perfect media, but it was perfect for what it needed to be.

But the last scene with Washington? The big reveal with Doc? The freelancers returning for one final message in his own psyche?

I broke down into easy tears. I had already cried for Sarge's death and cried for the final destruction of the AI but that?

I miss my friend so much. More than I can possibly describe. But what Carolina said: "We are here." That broke me.

This is less of a total breakdown of the media and just a series of rambles for what I felt in general with the grief.

#rvb restoration #rvb spoilers

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captainsophiestark · 2 years

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Anything For You

Daisy Johnson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2022! Requested by Anon :)

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: “You know I’d do anything.”

Summary: Y/N and Skye are dating, and when Skye gets in a hairy situation with Ian Quinn in Malta, it's Y/N to the rescue. They'd do anything for their girlfriend, after all.

Word Count: 1,242

Category: Fluff, maybe a tiny bit of Angst?

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"She should be just up ahead of you. Her last known location put her in the building somewhere around the corner."

I didn't bother replying to May as I sprinted for all I was worth. Skye, my girlfriend of just under a month, had gone into a dangerous situation undercover, with almost no training. She'd done incredibly well, sucking Ian Quinn and allowing me, Ward, and Coulson to get past his security fence for a rescue mission of Doctor Franklin Hall. We'd lost contact with her, however, not long after she'd been in a tight situation with Quinn, and I was absolutely worried sick.

I hurtled around the corner at top speed, a little more recklessly than I'd normally behave. I quickly decided it was the right call, however, when I saw Skye trapped on a walkway, two armed men blocking both of her options for escape.

The man behind Skye saw me coming, but he was too slow to warn his partner. I slammed into the guy with his back to me, the one standing between me and my girlfriend, knocking him out before he got the chance to even attempt to defend himself. The remaining hostile tried to make a grab for Skye, but I grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind me before he could. He squared up and took a few swings at me, but I managed to duck, dodge, and sidestep them all.

I waited patiently for my opening, drawing on every ounce of training I'd ever received. Finally, I saw my chance when the guy overcommitted to a pretty nasty right hook. I got past his guard with the hardest uppercut I could manage, and when he reeled back from the hit, I landed a few more precise blows that dropped him like a stone.

Once he was down and I'd done a quick scan to make sure no one else was getting the drop on us (they weren't), I turned back to Skye.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, rushing to close the distance between us and taking her hands in mine as I looked her over for any sign of injury. She shook her head.

"No. No, I'm fine."

She seemed shaken, but like she'd said, she didn't seem to be hurt. I sighed, feeling the adrenaline finally start to drain out of me, and pulled her into my chest.

"Alright, it's alright," I said, stroking her hair with one hand as she wrapped her arms around me and laid her head on my chest. She'd gone into total badass mode for her escape, which I was incredibly proud of, but the shock and fear of what she'd just managed to escape would be hitting her any minute. "You're alright, Skye. You did good, you're safe. Now let's get out of here."

She nodded, but kept holding on to me while she took a few deep breaths. The island shook beneath us, and we both realized it was our cue to meet up with the rest of our team and get the hell out of here.

We could finish decompressing later.

****************

I absentmindedly ran my hands through Skye's hair as we laid in bed together, squeezed onto her twin bunk on the Bus. The whole team had made it back from Malta safely, thankfully, although we'd just made an enemy out of Quinn and we hadn't been able to save Doctor Hall.

Honestly, I didn't really care about any of that stuff. Skye and I had made it out safely, and that's all that mattered to me.

"You know, you really did a fantastic job today," I mused as we relaxed together, taking in the gentle hum of the engines now that the Bus was in the air. "I mean seriously. I'm still pissed that Ward's your SO and not me, but... clearly he's doing a pretty good job training you."

Skye laughed, and I smiled.

"I guess we do have to give him some credit," she said. "Although I think his training is working mostly because I'm just a great student and a natural agent."

I laughed. Skye turned to glare up at me, clearly offended, but I couldn't help it.

"Babe, I've seen you down there doing your drills on the punching bag. You're definitely getting better, and nobody gets stuff right away, but... your stance is anything but natural."

Skye just huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Whatever."

We passed a few moments in comfortable silence, me smiling to myself and Skye clearly still a little grumpy. I was starting to drift off for some much needed sleep after all the chaos of the day when she spoke again, waking me up and drawing my attention.

"Thank you for today, by the way," she said. "You completely saved me. I don't know what I would've done without you."

I gave her a light squeeze with the arm I had wrapped around her. "Anytime. I will literally always come for you if you need me, Skye. I'd do anything for you. You know I'd do anything."

She nodded without looking up at me, and squeezed me a little tighter with the arm she had slung across my stomach. She didn't say anything, but I knew my words meant the world to her. When we'd first met, she'd had absolutely no one in the world. She'd been completely on her own, without anybody to trust or to have her back. I'd become that person for her recently, and although she wasn't really one for the most touchy-feely conversations and declarations of love, I knew what I meant to her.

After a few moments of Skye taking deep breaths and me gently rubbing circles on her back, the tension and emotionally charged air of the moment faded away. Skye cleared her throat.

"So... when you say you'd do anything for me..."

"Oh boy," I said, rolling my eyes and taking my arm from around her shoulders. I shifted and so did Skye so she was now laying next to me, resting her head on her fist and looking at me with mischief in her eyes. "What do you want?"

"A glass of water?"

"Last I checked, your legs were not broken despite your jump off a balcony today."

"Yeah, but... this bed is so comfortable, and I don't want to get up. And you said you'd do anything for me."

I sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling like I was praying for strength, but then I threw the covers off and stood up.

"You're the love of my life," said Skye as I slipped on a pair of shoes sitting by the bed and headed for the door of her bunk. "My hero and angel."

"Yeah yeah yeah, whatever. Save your flattery and keep the covers warm for me, alright?"

"Promise."

I pulled open the door and stepped out into the hallway with a dramatic sigh, pausing at the last minute to shoot a grin and a wink back at Skye. She beamed at me in response, and my heart leapt in my chest. We really hadn't known each other all that long in the grand scheme of things, but I already knew for a fact that she was the love of my life.

I'd get her a million glasses of water and save her on a million missions, and I knew she'd do the same for me.

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three--rings · 1 year

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2022 Video Game Wrapup

Video games are a very important part of my life and I felt like doing a year summary. Feel free to copy the format if you want.

Games I Actually FINISHED This Year

Red Dead Redemption II - First playthough. I started it before the new year but spent almost six months on this. Didn’t quite 100% it because some of the challenges were too damn hard for me. But otherwise it was a very completionist run. This immediately moved into one of my all-time top games, like IDK one of the top three spots. So glad I gave it a shot after not thinking it was my thing.

AI: The Somnian Files - A game by Uchikoshi that I hadn’t played yet? Yeah I devoured it. What can I say, despite it’s weirdness and Uchikoshi quirks, I love it.

AI: The Somnian Files - The Nirvana Initiative - The sequel obviously. Even more twisty than the first one, if not quite as full of loveable characters.

80 Days - It’s sorta a game you can play as many times as you want, but I played it three-four times through and felt satisfied.

Games I’m currently Playing:

Pokémon Violet - I’m trying to keep myself from stalling on this. I need to go fight the Elite Four but I’m scared. So I’m running around looking for missing low-level dudes.

Pentiment - Bought in the Steam Winter sale, started on Xmas eve. I’m two acts in and really want to restart cause I’ve done everything wrong but I persist. This game is very strange. But medieval monk murder mystery how could I NOT play it?

Games I’m still playing, more or less:

Life Sims:

Stardew Valley - The eternal, basically. I started a brand new game with Stardew Valley Extended and a light selection of about 30 mods when I had Covid and played it obsessively to get farther than I ever had before. Got 100 golden walnuts, and basically was just working on making money to get True Perfection when I got tired and haven’t touched it for months.

Traveller’s Rest - A really great game in which you run a tavern. I played it intensely when it first released, before they redid the whole thing. Then didn’t touch it for a long time, played it a little around Halloween cause they did seasonal stuff and thought real hard about playing the Christmas content but didn’t.

Dinkum: A fantastic one-man game that’s combo animal crossing and stardew in Australia. Played it INTENSELY for a couple weeks before running out of stuff to do that compelled me. I think there’s been several updates but nothing that had tempted me back.

Coral Island - I backed this on Kickstarter and so played this on early access release. Really compelling and fun but I ran through the content quickly. There’s been some major updates recently so I’ll get back to it soon.

The Planet Crafter - Played this intensely for a few days and after 10 hours ran out of new places to go and got bored. I’ve tried to play it again a few times since then and last time I wanted to go further with it but the controls hurt my arthritis hands now. So until they allow remapping controls, I think I’m out.

Wildermyth - A really fun little game where you follow characters through their adventuring careers. Fun to make your own blorbo characters and see what happens to them. Played it a LOT at the beginning of the year and nearly forgot to include it. Could always pick it up again to return to my MXTX verse.

Games I’m MOSTLY done with but can’t make myself finish:

Bear and Breakfast - A weird game about inn management that starts chill but gets really annoying. I got almost done with this game, but got to a point I needed to just make a lot of money to fully upgrade all my hotels to achieve things so the endgame would happen and by then I was annoyed. I hear the ending is wild though so I kinda want to actually finish it since I went so far with it. But I can’t work up the desire to get back.

Persona 4 Golden - I’d never played a Persona game even though they are totally My Kinda Thing because I’m just not a playstation person. Went through it quickly but then uh got stuck on one of the last bosses, maybe THE last, IDK I am still trying to avoid spoiling myself. Even lowered the difficulty one notch and couldn’t beat it so either I needed to grind or lower it all the way. And then I didn’t.

Disco Elysium - Yeah uh got to a point where either I need to move on to like the end of the story (ish?) or finish all these sidequests I’m stuck on and didn’t know what to do with. And then I just didn’t go back. Yes this is a problem for me.

Pokémon Legends: Arceus - I started this when Scarlet and Violet came out and I found it uh, conveniently online...and then I got stuck on the stupid Arcanine boss and then I found a Violet repack and yeah, that’s the story of that. Not sure if I’ll go back to it or not at this point.

Games I really need to make myself get back to but it’s been so long it’s embarrassing aka did I even play these this year, IDK?:

Great Ace Attorney Chronicles II - Uh, yeah, I need to finish this considering how long I waited for it. Scheduled to travel with me in January.

Fire Emblem Three Houses - I finished it once and am like halfway through my second playthrough but got distracted. Again, traveling with my Switch is my plan to make me finish this.

Danganronpa V3 - This I definitely haven’t touched in like a year and a half, so much that I have to restart from the beginning because I remember almost nothing. I just finished rewatching the anime specifically to get me back to it. I’m like 40 hours in and remember nothing if that tells you anything about me.

Elder Scrolls: Oblivion - Again, pretty sure this wasn’t this year but I got really far in a play of this on my Xbox, but like Skyrim how do you know when you’re FINISHED. I want to play it on my laptop with mods next time.

Games I played but gave up on:

Interrogation: You Will Be Deceived - I actually bought this accidentally, thinking it was a different game about interrogation and detecting lies that I’d been recced. This game ended up being just Police Brutality Simulator. It’s just “illegally abuse this witness to get Vital Info that will Save the Day” the game. I think I lasted 20 minutes.

Strange Horticulture - I thought there would be more story to this game but it’s mostly just identifying plants and then trying to guess the right ingredients of potions. Okay for a while but not compelling enough to keep me interested.

#video games #threerings' plays games #threerings' recs #these are almost all recs

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northwest-cryptid · 6 months

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i totally get the reasoning on your post and it seems really true, but then why do you think it generated the penises? or do you think they are not penises and we are simply seeing objects in the AI goop

I just wanna really quickly point out that this is EXACTLY the sort of questions I'm looking to answer and educate people on, so genuinely; thank you so much for asking.

I'm going to open with saying that while I don't know for certain, given that there's a ton of factors we can't possibly know without actually getting in touch with the person who generated the image; I will do my best to answer this with as much detail as possible.

So my best guess is that, simply put we're just seeing things. It's likely that, given the objects around the object in question; they simply told it to create objects.

A lot of objects that we see in Overwatch (such as the handles of hammers/swords and such) could easily be misshapen by AI to appear like a penis, especially when as pointed out by the commenter we sort of do associate Overwatch with porn/NSFW material.

My best reasoning for this is simply that it's unlikely the AI in question would generate a sort of one off occurrence without any other sort of "hint" or "evidence" of what kind of checkpoint it's running.

To put it simply, a lot of people have this idea that an AI itself "learns" things; that's not quite the case. In reality the AI is sort of a shell for a brain of sorts. That "brain" is called a Checkpoint, the checkpoint or sometimes called a "model" is essentially a point of reference for what words mean. That is the thing that learns, and when the AI needs to generate something it essentially references what the Checkpoint says something looks like.

What this means is that if we are to believe that the AI (Checkpoint) associates Overwatch with porn, it should have some kind of stylistic choice we can see in the art that would reflect that, outside of a one off penis in the corner of a bunch of stuff, which if I'm being honest; upon closer inspection doesn't even really look that much like a penis...

I mean, I understand where you're coming from if you think it looks that way but I think that's more on your own human brain if I'm being perfectly honest with you. Like yea I can see it too but I don't think that's what the AI was going for if I'm being real here.

Anyways I wanted to test my theory here, so I went to Civitai, a website for sharing checkpoints and the like; and found two checkpoints to compare the original against.

They are both highly rated at 4.8 rating though I will openly admit that the NSFW checkpoints has 34,000+ downloads while the seemingly SFW checkpoint only seems to have around 3,100+ so yes I understand that rating isn't exactly equal but never the less they're both highly rated checkpoints with thousands of downloads, of course the NSFW one is more popular; for our testing purposes that doesn't really matter.

Now I want to say this up front; as both of these checkpoints are actually merges (meaning they're made up of a bunch of smaller checkpoints merged together into a big one) it would be nearly impossible for me to source everything back and make sure everything is ethically sourced. I do not condone using unethically sourced checkpoints and only generated these images for the sake of example and education. Both checkpoints were deleted shortly after running these generations.

The first was Animerge, a seemingly safe for work checkpoint; and the second was Grapefruit, a NSFW checkpoint that also focused on anime.

I ran the original overwatch image that we are discussing through the controlnet canny system as a reference for both of these images and ONLY gave the AI the prompt "Overwatch" as to not create any sort of bias.

I gotta say as much as the results speak for themselves, I'll explain for those who don't really get it (that's fine no worries).

I feel like you can tell without me even telling you that the image on the left was generated by the SFW checkpoint, and the one on the right by the NSFW checkpoint. Not only do we see something more heavily resembling the original image on the left, but we see specifically that it left the man in the image intact. Where as with the image on the right, we can see this man got himself a bit of plastic surgery in the ass to basically become "thick Mercy" and we can additionally see the robot on the left became a wannabe D.Va with the lady on the right becoming something of a Tracer character from the looks of it, given a wider butt, and generally more pronounced shape. In fact the NSFW checkpoint almost entirely deleted the background, with only a few of the foreground debris being left behind but heavily altered.

So hey why is that? If all I prompted was Overwatch then that's all it had to go off of right? Well yes, exactly; the only thing either of these checkpoints has was Overwatch. Yet that which was trained on specifically NSFW images incorporated those features of anatomy into the image, likewise the SFW model seems to have latched onto Overwatch's general sci-fi vibe using the white, blue, yellow color scheme the game is sort of known for.

See this is what I mean when I say, I think we're projecting a bit onto the AI's thoughts here. First of all an AI can't actually "think" per se, so all that association stuff doesn't really make sense, it's going off tags not off what we as humans think of first when someone says overwatch. Most tags or color schemes or common traits around overwatch honestly probably aren't NSFW in nature. We just tend to latch onto the NSFW art/media around the game because it's what's well known to people.

So interestingly enough I really wanted to see if I could get the Grapefruit checkpoint to make something closer to the original, and after a few attempts this was the closest I got. You can clearly notice that the anatomy is STILL effected! The overly pronounced butts, and the fact it REALLY wants this guy to be Tracer giving him her hair and general color scheme.

We can also see that the oh so famous "penis" has become just another object in the pile of vaguely phallic shape. In fact, if we compare the butt of the original to the new butts the change in shape is REALLY obvious.

If we want to believe that the AI associated Overwatch with porn inherently, and that the checkpoint trained on pornographic material "on the internet, where the porn is" then we should see that reflected in how it handles the anatomy of these characters and we just don't.

Technically speaking there's a system called "inpaint" which allows you to specifically alter parts of an AI generated image using a different checkpoint, meaning it's possible theoretically for someone to paint over the characters with inpaint, and select a different; safe for work checkpoint that still has innocent virgin eyes untainted by "The Internet, You Know; Where The Porn Is™." However given how absolutely lazy the overall image is, I honestly can't bring myself to say that's what happened. Especially because at that point they could have simply painted over the penis and removed it. If they somehow didn't notice the penis shape, despite it's prominence; a penis still wouldn't have just been generated without the checkpoint specifically being aware of, and typically learning on porn; and there's no reason why it would appear there and have no semblance of NSFW material elsewhere if such a checkpoint was used.

the tl;dr of this is that while sure it's TECHNICALLY possible it's an AI generated penis; I HIGHLY doubt that's actually true. Simply put that's just not how AI works, and for that to be how the image came to be they'd have to have taken some weirdly specific precautions and care to un-NSFW the two characters and surrounding environment but specifically ignore/not see/leave the penis for some reason. I can't, in sound mind; convince myself that was the case.

So while I may not exactly know what it's meant to be 100%, or why it was created I cannot with any level of certainty say it is actually what people say it is. I think we're just all projecting what we find funny, or what we personally associate with Overwatch.

After all, have you considered the fact that given the prompt of "overwatch" it specifically is trying to generate the women in the cast? If we believe that it really associated overwatch with pornography; it doesn't make sense that a penis of all things would be the image it chooses to create to represent that. Not when even across multiple image generations it's consistently trying to make the man into either Mercy or Tracer, and if it's given no image prompting to go off of, it simply creates some kind of tracer lookalike, you know; like a tracer who accidentally fell in some acid and her face is melting off, but I digress. I just can't bring myself to believe that any of the claim is actually true given my knowledge of how AI works, that being said; I think it's incredibly funny that it made some kind of dumb phallic shape because the people who generated it were too lazy to even think about having an actual artist touch up the picture in the slightest and fix the GLARING problems with it.

When I said, "if the commenter is some form of authority on the matter I'd love for them to tell me which AI it was, or what website it's trained on." That was genuine, because you know; with that information you'd likely actually be able to get to the bottom of this.

At the end of the day, AI can't REALLY think for itself, it doesn't know how to learn anything a person doesn't directly teach it. So unless it was shown a penis, and taught what a penis was specifically; it wouldn't be able to generate a "penis" but it could generate something that resembles something that could be a penis if you squint at it and have the thought on your brain.

Genuinely hope that is a satisfactory answer to such a question.

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