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ericshoney · 2 months ago

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The Winter Soldier's Cold Shower ~ Bucky Barnes

Summary: You decide that Bucky needs to lighten up, so a prank is in order.

Warnings: Possible swearing

Reader's age: 16

The hum of Avengers Tower was a constant background noise to your life. At sixteen, being the youngest Avenger (courtesy of her rather peculiar energy manipulation abilities), you were both a superhero and a bored teenager. Tony Stark kept trying to get you to focus your energy on inventing new technologies. Steve Rogers kept pushing you to study harder. But right now, you only had one thing on your mind: Operation Winter Prank.

Your target? Bucky Barnes, a man who was both intimidating and, surprisingly, easily flustered. He was also an easy target, since he had no idea what a 'prank' even was.

The idea had come to you during a particularly dull training session. Bucky, attempting to teach you hand-to-hand combat, had been lecturing you on discipline and focus. That’s when the devilish idea sparked in your mind.

You spent the next few hours carefully planning the scheme. You scavenged the tower for supplies: plastic wrap, blue food dye, and a remote control you'd fished out of a broken Stark Industries robot. The hardest part was evading FRIDAY, the AI, who was constantly monitoring your movements and reporting back to Tony. But you were resourceful, and learned to time your activities during Tony's meetings.

Yuor plan was simple: turn Bucky's shower water freezing cold and dye it a vivid shade of blue. He’d be expecting his usual hot water, and the sudden icy blast would be… well, hilarious, at least to you.

The biggest challenge was accessing Bucky's bathroom. He valued his privacy, a remnant of his days as the Winter Soldier. After a lot of waiting, you saw him head to the training room with Steve. This was her chance.

Slipping through the corridors, you used your energy to temporarily disable the security camera outside Bucky's door. With nimble fingers, you picked the lock – a skill you'd picked up from Clint, who swore he wasn't teaching you anything illegal.

Inside, the bathroom was meticulously organized, as if Bucky's need for control extended beyond his own body. You bypassed the water heater valve with the skill of a seasoned plumber. You then pulled out the blue dye, and carefully poured it into the shower head.

Finally, you attached the remote control to the temperature regulator. A quick test proved it worked perfectly. With a grin, you reset the security camera, slipped out of the bathroom, and re-locked the door. Mission accomplished.

Now, all that was left was the agonizing wait. You positioned yourself in the common area, pretending to study a textbook. You could hear the distant grunts and thuds of the training session. Every few minutes, you glanced at the clock.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Bucky emerged from the gym, sweat glistening on his forehead. He headed straight for his room.

You held your breath. This was it.

A few minutes later, a surprised yell echoed down the hallway, followed by a string of muffled curses that would have made Captain America faint.

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. You could practically picture Bucky standing under the frigid, blue water, his metal arm probably freezing over.

Steve, alerted by the commotion, rushed into the hallway, a concerned expression on his face. "Bucky? What's wrong?"

Bucky emerged from his room, dripping wet, his face a mixture of confusion and outrage. He was shivering, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. "The shower... it's... blue," he sputtered, "And freezing!"

Steve looked at him, then at you, whose laughter was barely contained. Understanding dawned on his face. He turned to you a mixture of amusement and disapproval in his eyes. "Y/n…"

"It was just a prank!" You said, trying to sound innocent. "He needs to lighten up a little!"

Bucky glared at you, his eyes narrowed. "Prank?" he repeated, the word sounding foreign and slightly threatening in his mouth.

Suddenly, Tony zoomed into the room, drawn by the noise. "What's all the hubbub? Did someone break something important?" He took one look at Bucky, soaking wet and blue-tinged, and burst into laughter. "Oh, this is gold! Y/N, you're a genius!"

Tony, of course, made things worse. Bucky looked like he was about to short circuit.

Before Bucky could formulate a proper response, You decided to make a tactical retreat. "Gotta go!" You called, grabbing your textbook and sprinting towards the elevator.

As the doors closed, you could hear Bucky's voice, low and dangerous. "Y/N… get back here!"

You just grinned. Operation Winter Prank: success. Though you knew you'd probably be doing extra cleaning duty for the next month, it was totally worth it. After all, what was life in Avengers Tower without a little bit of chaos? And besides, you had a feeling this was just the beginning of your prank war with the Winter Soldier. The thought made your anticipation run high.

Tags:

@parkjihoonsnudes @riowritesitall @mandmilovehim @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @lgbtq-girl

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

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the-winter-spider · 10 months ago

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Death Rattle | B. Barnes

word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Angst, death

A/N: I was inspired by how did it end by ts, enjooooyyyyyyyy

Not proof read or edited will do that tonight!

----

The quinjet hummed quietly as you and the team prepared for the mission ahead. You adjusted your comms, listening to the chatter of your teammates as you loaded your weapons.

“So, what’s the bet today?” Sam’s voice crackled over the comms.

“I say Steve’s shield gets stuck in a wall again,” you teased, glancing at the Captain with a grin. “Ten bucks.”

Steve rolled his eyes, adjusting his helmet. “That happened once.”

“And we’ll never let you forget it,” Natasha chimed in smoothly. “I’m betting Bucky’s arm malfunctions, Fifty bucks says he’s cursing up a storm in Russian before we’re done here.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Bucky grumbled, though you could hear the smirk in his voice. “I’d say something about Romanoff’s hair getting messed up, but that’s just asking for trouble.”

“Smart man,” Natasha replied with a smirk.

“Alright, focus up, team,” Steve said, his voice firm as the quinjet began to descend. “Intel says the Hydra base is heavily guarded, but we’re taking them by surprise. Y/N, you and Bucky take the east wing. Sam, Natasha, you’re with me on the west. We take out the comms tower, secure the data, and get out.”

“Got it, Cap,” you confirmed, tightening your grip on your weapon. Bucky gave you a nod, his blue eyes filled with quiet determination.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam’s voice broke in just before you dropped down to the ground. “Try not to blow anything up this time, alright?”

“No promises, birdbrain,” you shot back, grinning as you and Bucky hit the ground running.

—

The mission had been going smoothly—too smoothly, if you were being honest with yourself. You and Bucky had infiltrated the Hydra base with minimal resistance, clearing the first few checkpoints with ease. It was almost unsettling how little security you’d encountered, but you pushed the thought aside as you focused on the task at hand.

“Alright, we’re in,” you whispered into your comm, pressing yourself against the wall as you peeked around the corner. “Heading to the main server room.”

“Copy that,” Steve’s voice crackled in your ear. “Sam and I have the control room in sight. Be ready to move once we take it out.”

“Got it,” you replied, glancing at Bucky beside you. He gave you a nod, his eyes scanning the hallway ahead. You both moved in perfect sync, your footsteps silent as you made your way down the dimly lit corridor.

“Man, I can’t believe we’re doing this without any real backup,” you muttered, shaking your head as you reached the door to the server room. “It’s almost too easy.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You know that’s asking for trouble, right?”

You smirked, shrugging as you began to work on the door’s control panel. “Hey, if something goes wrong, at least we’re together.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that always works out so well,” Bucky quipped, his voice dry but tinged with warmth.

You chuckled, focusing on bypassing the security lock. “You’re just mad because I usually end up saving your butt.”

Bucky snorted softly, shaking his head. “You keep telling yourself that, doll.”

The lock beeped, and the door slid open with a quiet hiss. You and Bucky slipped inside, your eyes scanning the rows of servers that filled the room. Everything was eerily quiet—no alarms, no guards, just the hum of electronics around you.

“Alright, let’s make this quick,” you said, pulling out the EMP device from your pack. “Once this goes off, we’ll have about two minutes to get out before the backup systems kick in.”

“Two minutes?” Bucky gave you a look. “You sure you didn’t set that timer a little tight?”

You grinned, already attaching the device to the main server. “Where’s the fun in a long timer? Besides, you love a challenge.”

“Not when it involves getting blown up,” he muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Just as you were about to activate the EMP, a familiar voice crackled over the comms. “Hey, Y/N,” Sam’s voice was light, almost amused. “Try not to blow anything up this time, alright?”

You rolled your eyes, pressing the button to start the timer. “No promises, birdbrain.”

“Seriously, don’t—” But Sam’s voice cut off as the EMP activated, the lights flickering before plunging the room into darkness.

“Time to move!” you called out, grabbing Bucky’s arm as you bolted for the exit. The two of you sprinted down the hallway, the sound of alarms finally blaring through the base. The EMP had done its job, but it had also triggered the security systems.

“I swear, you live for the chaos,” Bucky grumbled as you turned a corner, narrowly avoiding a group of Hydra agents who were scrambling to respond to the alarms.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you shot back, your adrenaline spiking as you took out two agents with quick, precise shots.

Bucky just shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

“Nah,” you teased, ducking into an adjacent hallway. “I’ll leave that to Hydra.”

Just as you said it, an explosion rocked the building—one you hadn’t planned. The shockwave threw you both off your feet, slamming you into the wall as debris rained down around you.

“What the hell was that?!” Bucky shouted, coughing as dust filled the air.

“Not me!” you called back, pulling him to his feet. “I didn’t touch anything, I swear!”

“Must’ve hit something important with that EMP,” Bucky muttered, wincing as he rubbed his shoulder. “Or they just really didn’t want us getting out.”

“Guess we better not disappoint them,” you said with a grim smile. “Come on, let’s move before this whole place comes down.”

The two of you sprinted for the extraction point, the sound of collapsing ceilings and distant explosions echoing through the base. You could feel the tension rising in your chest, the thrill of the mission mingling with the ever-present danger. But even as the walls crumbled around you, you couldn’t help but laugh, a wild, exhilarated sound that caught Bucky off guard.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, glancing at you with raised eyebrows.

“Just thinking,” you gasped, dodging a falling chunk of concrete, “Sam’s gonna kill me when he finds out about this.”

Bucky shook his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, but it’s why we keep you around, isn’t it?”

“Chaos and explosions?” you quipped, ducking under a low-hanging beam.

“And saving my butt,” Bucky added, his eyes glinting with affection despite the chaos surrounding you.

You just smiled, your heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the mission. “Guess we’re even then, huh?”

“Guess so,” Bucky agreed, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

The two of you finally burst out into the open air, the quinjet waiting for you on the horizon. As you ran for it, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just another crazy day in your life—one that you wouldn’t trade for anything

—

The base was eerily quiet as you made your way inside, the only sounds coming from the hum of machinery and the distant murmur of Hydra agents. You and Bucky moved in sync, clearing rooms with practised ease.

“You know, this is almost too easy,” you muttered, ducking behind a crate as you approached the east wing. “I’m starting to think they’re just letting us in.”

“Don’t jinx it, doll,” Bucky replied, scanning the hallway ahead. “We get in, get the data, and get out. Nice and simple.”

“Simple? Us? You’re funny, Barnes,” you quipped, flashing him a grin before slipping into the next room.

—

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over Brooklyn. The streets were quieter now, the bustle of the day giving way to the peaceful hum of evening.

You and Bucky walked side by side, the familiar rhythm of your footsteps in sync as you made your way through the neighbourhood. It was a perfect summer evening—one of those rare moments when everything felt just right.

“You ever think about getting out of here someday?” Bucky asked suddenly, his voice soft, almost wistful.

You glanced over at him, catching the way the fading sunlight highlighted the sharp lines of his jaw, the warmth in his blue eyes. “You mean leaving Brooklyn? Or the Avengers”

“All of it, you know, see what’s out there.” He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Paris, London… maybe somewhere quiet, like the countryside. Just to get away from everything for a while.”

You smiled at the thought, imagining Bucky wandering through cobblestone streets in some far-off city, looking as effortlessly charming as ever. “Sounds nice,” you said. “But I can’t really picture you as a farm boy, Barnes.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. “I think i’d manage. But what about you? If you could go anywhere, where would it be?”

You tilted your head, considering the question. “I don’t know… Somewhere peaceful, I guess. But it’s not really about the place. It’s more about who you’re with, you know?”

His gaze softened as he looked at you, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world had quieted down, leaving just the two of you in that golden light. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I know.”

There was a comfortable silence as you continued walking, the air between you filled with unspoken words. The truth lingered there, close enough to touch but never quite reaching the surface.

You wanted to tell him—wanted to say that wherever he went, you’d follow. That he was the person you’d want to see the world with, whether it was Paris or a tiny farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.

But instead, you nudged him playfully with your shoulder. “You’d probably miss the city too much anyway. Can’t imagine you without your favourite diner.”

Bucky laughed, the tension easing as he bumped you back. “True, Can’t beat their apple pie.”

“See? You’re a city boy through and through.”

“Maybe,” he said, grinning at you. “But I’d trade it all for the right company.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, you thought about what it would mean to just say it—to tell him how you felt, how you’d always felt. But then he looked away, his gaze drifting to the horizon, and the moment passed.

“Let’s head back,” he said after a while, his voice light but his eyes carrying a weight that matched your own.

You nodded, falling back into step beside him. The walk home was filled with easy conversation, the kind that flowed naturally between you. But beneath the laughter and the teasing, there was something deeper—a connection that went unspoken, yet was understood by both of you. Neither of you admitted your feelings that day, but in your hearts, you knew. It was simple….

Some things didn’t need words.

—

That’s when things went sideways. The comms tower was in sight when a sudden explosion rocked the building. The lights flickered, and the walls trembled as debris rained down. You barely had time to react before the hallway filled with Hydra agents, weapons drawn.

“Ambush!” Bucky shouted, raising his rifle and firing at the incoming agents. You ducked behind a pillar, returning fire as the room erupted into chaos.

“Of course it couldn’t be simple,” you muttered, taking out an agent before he could reach you. “Sam, Natasha, how’s it looking on your end?”

“We’ve got a few surprises too,” Natasha replied, her voice tense. “Hold your position—we’re almost done.”

“Bucky, we’ve got to take out the comms tower,” you said, glancing at him. “You hold them off, I’ll go plant the charges.”

“I’ll go with you—” Bucky began, but you shook your head.

“No, you’re better at holding a line. I’ll be quick,” you assured him, offering a small smile.

He hesitated, then nodded, his eyes locking onto yours. “Be careful, Y/N.”

“Always am,” you winked before darting down the hallway toward the tower.

You could hear the sounds of battle behind you—Bucky’s rifle, Steve’s shield clanging, Sam’s wings cutting through the air. But your focus was on the mission. You reached the comms room, planting the charges quickly, but as you were about to leave, the ceiling groaned, and you heard it—a crack, then a roar as part of the building started to give way.

“Y/N, get out of there!” Steve’s voice barked through the comms.

But it was too late. The floor beneath you crumbled, sending you crashing down into the lower levels. Pain shot through your body as you hit the ground hard, dust and rubble filling your lungs as you struggled to breathe.

“Doll? Y/N, do you copy?” Bucky’s voice crackled in your ear, frantic.

You coughed, trying to clear your throat. “I’m… I’m here,” you gasped, pain lancing through your side. “But I’m pinned… building’s coming down.”

“Hold on, sweetheart. I’m coming for you,” Bucky grunted, the desperation in his voice unmistakable “Just hold on” He repeated grunting, his voice strained as you heard him fighting his way to you. The sound of metal clashing and boots thudding echoed in the distance, each second dragging on like an eternity.

“Buck, go, go, go! That way!” Steve shouted, his voice sharp with urgency.

You could feel it—the end. It crept up like a shadow, warm yet cold, each sensation clashing against the other like fire and ice. It was almost poetic, how the contradiction mirrored you and Bucky, two halves that made a flawed, perfect whole.

—

The Avengers compound was unusually lively that afternoon, with everyone gathered in the common room, taking a rare break from missions and training.

Steve and Sam were engrossed in a game of chess, Natasha was flipping through a magazine, and Tony was tinkering with some gadget on the coffee table. You were perched on the edge of the couch, sipping a cup of tea, when Bucky walked in.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky said, his voice warm and smooth. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his eyes locking onto yours. “Miss me?”

You smirked, taking a sip of your tea. “I didn’t even notice you were gone, Barnes.”

“Oh, that’s cold,” Sam commented without looking up from the chessboard. “But you know she’s lying, right?”

Bucky just grinned, strolling over to where you sat. He took the cup from your hand, taking a sip himself before handing it back. “Well, I’m back now. What’d I miss?”

“Not much,” you replied, ignoring the way your heart fluttered when his fingers brushed against yours. “Steve’s losing to Sam, Tony’s probably breaking something, and Nat is pretending she’s not listening to us.”

Natasha looked up, raising an eyebrow “I’m not pretending.”

Bucky chuckled, sitting down next to you—closer than necessary. His arm rested casually along the back of the couch, his presence warm and solid beside you. “Well, I’m sure things were dull without me.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “If by ‘dull,’ you mean ‘peaceful,’ then yeah.”

“Oh, come on. You know you missed me, sweetheart,” he teased, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone that always made your pulse quicken.

“Keep telling yourself that, Barnes,” you shot back, leaning in slightly. “Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”

“Y/N, just admit you missed him already,” Tony said, not even looking up from his work. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Who says I missed him?” you countered, your tone playful. “Maybe I just enjoy watching him trip over his own ego.”

Bucky’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with that mischievous spark that always set your nerves on edge in the best way. “Funny, I don’t remember tripping…Must’ve been too busy thinking about you.”

Natasha snorted softly, exchanging a knowing glance with Steve, who had finally looked up from the chess game. “You two are impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“More like predictable,” Steve added, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

“Who’s fooling who?” Bucky asked, his tone light, but there was something more in his eyes—something that lingered just beneath the surface, unspoken. He turned back to you, his gaze softening. “I think she’s just playing hard to get.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head. “Who says I’m playing at all?”

The room went silent for a moment, everyone waiting for what would happen next. You could feel the tension crackling between you and Bucky, the air thick with the things neither of you ever said out loud. But instead of pushing it further, you leaned back, breaking eye contact with a casual shrug.

“Guess we’ll never know,” you said, your tone light.

Bucky’s smirk didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something only you could see. “Maybe one day.”

“Maybe,” you echoed, your voice quieter now, more sincere.

Tony sighed dramatically, throwing down his tools. “This is worse than a soap opera. Just kiss already, would you?”

“Not a chance,” you and Bucky said in unison, both of you grinning as the room erupted in groans and laughter.

But as the banter continued, as everyone got back to their own conversations, Bucky’s hand brushed yours again, lingering for just a second too long. And even though neither of you admitted it, in that brief touch, you both knew—something unspoken, something that didn’t need words.

—

“You’re my last 7 minutes,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“What? Doll, no, please, please hold on. We’re almost there,” he panted, his breath hitching in a way that broke your heart. Bucky never sounded like this—desperate, afraid. He was always the unbreakable one, the soldier who could face anything. But now, he was crumbling.

You licked your lips, your mouth dry, “After death…”

“You’re not dying!” Natasha’s voice cut through the comms, tight with fear. She thought they were almost done, thought you were almost safe, but then the ground shuddered. The building you were in groaned, and the next thing you knew, it started to collapse. Dust and debris filled the air as more agents swarmed in, but all you could think about was him.

—-

The party inside was in full swing—laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. The warmth of the celebration radiated through the rooms, but out on the balcony, it was peaceful, quiet, and far removed from the buzz inside. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you stood with Bucky, both of you gazing out at the stars that glittered in the sky.

You had both slipped away from the crowd unnoticed, seeking a moment of calm away from the festivities. The balcony was lit by the soft glow of string lights that draped along the railing, casting a gentle light over everything. The faint sound of the music inside reached you, but it was distant, like an echo of another world.

“Pretty out here, huh?” you murmured, leaning on the railing and looking up at the sky.

Bucky nodded, his eyes following the same path as yours. “Yeah…. It’s nice to get away from it all for a bit.”

You smiled, your gaze drifting to him. He was standing close, the light catching the edges of his face, making his blue eyes stand out against the night. There was something about the way he looked just then—so at ease, so content—that made your heart swell with affection.

Before you knew it, you were speaking without thinking. “You know, you have the most beautiful eyes, Buck.”

He turned to you, slightly taken aback by the compliment. A faint blush crept up his neck, and he let out a soft chuckle, clearly unsure how to respond. “I, uh… thanks, doll. That’s sweet of you.”

You shrugged, smiling as you reached out to gently take his hand. “It’s true. They’re… they’re kind, and they hold so much. I guess I just wanted you to know.”

Bucky looked at your hand in his, then back up at you, something tender and vulnerable flickering in his eyes. He hesitated for just a moment before stepping closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Y/N, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said quietly, his voice soft but earnest. “In all my 100 years of living… I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, your heart fluttering wildly. He was so sincere, so open in that moment, that it left you speechless. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there, wrapped in the magic of the night.

Without thinking, you took another step closer, your hands coming up to rest on his chest as his arms gently encircled your waist. The music from inside changed to a slower tune, one that drifted out onto the balcony, and before you knew it, Bucky was leading you in a slow, gentle dance.

The two of you swayed together, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if you’d been doing this for years. There was no need for words—everything you wanted to say was in the way he held you, the way he looked at you like you were the only person that mattered.

For a moment, you forgot about everything else. The past, the future, all of it melted away, leaving just this—this perfect, quiet moment under the stars.

It wasn’t until you heard a muffled laugh from inside that you realised you had an audience. Glancing over your shoulder, you caught sight of Steve, Natasha, and Sam standing by the glass patio doors, watching the two of you with grins on their faces. Steve gave you a thumbs-up, and Natasha winked before they all turned back to the party, leaving you and Bucky to your dance.

You laughed softly, resting your head against Bucky’s chest as you continued to sway. “I think we’ve been spotted.”

“Let ‘em watch,” Bucky murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “I’m not letting go just yet.”

“We're not gonna here the end of this”

He shook his head smiling “No were not”

And with that, you both continued dancing under the stars, lost in each other, as the world outside kept spinning.

—

“The human brain still lives for 7 minutes and plays the most beautiful memories….” You paused, struggling for breath, your vision blurring “Its you Bucky, you’re my 7 minutes…”

“Cap!” Sam’s voice crackled over the comms, strained. “We need to hurry.” But you could hear it—the death rattle in your chest, your body betraying you as the darkness closed in.

Bucky was close now. You could feel his presence, the warmth of his hands as they found yours, trembling. “Sweetheart, no, don’t do this, don’t leave me,” he pleaded, his voice breaking in a way you’d never heard before.

You wanted to say something to comfort him, to tell him you’d be okay, that you’d see him again in those last 7 minutes. But the words wouldn’t come, your strength slipping away as everything faded.

“I love you…” was all you managed before the world went quiet, his tear-filled eyes the last thing you saw.

And then there was nothing.

“Y/N… Y/N, wake up. Please,” Bucky’s voice was barely a whisper now, thick with grief. His hands clutched yours desperately, his grip tightening as if he could somehow pull you back from the edge. But you were gone—your body limp, your chest no longer rising with breath. The warmth was fading fast, leaving you cold, just like the darkness swallowing him whole.

“Bucky, we have to move!” Steve’s voice broke through the haze, but it felt distant, like he was calling from miles away.

Bucky didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His entire world had narrowed to you—your lifeless form, the bloodstains on your suit, the silent, unmoving chest that would never rise again. His mind screamed at him to do something, but his body was frozen, paralyzed by the reality crashing down around him.

“Bucky!” Steve’s shout was louder now, closer, and then he was there, grabbing Bucky by the shoulder, shaking him. “We have to go, now! The building’s coming down!”

“Not without her,” Bucky rasped, his voice shattered. He lifted you into his arms, cradling you close like a lifeline, refusing to let go. “I’m not leaving her.”

Steve’s heart twisted painfully, seeing his friend like this—so broken, so lost. But the ground was trembling beneath them, the structure ready to collapse at any moment. “We’ll get her out,” Steve promised, his voice cracking. “But we have to move.”

Bucky finally looked up, his eyes red, brimming with unshed tears. Slowly, he nodded, and together they began to move, Steve covering Bucky as they fought their way back through the crumbling building. The walls groaned ominously, and dust filled the air, but Bucky didn’t care. All he could see was you, all he could feel was the unbearable weight of loss pressing down on his chest.

The team was waiting for them at the extraction point, their faces grim as they saw you in Bucky’s arms. Natasha’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, Sam’s jaw clenched tightly, and even Steve’s stoic expression was cracked with sorrow.

“Let’s go,” Steve said quietly, signalling for the quinjet. But Bucky couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to make it out, supposed to laugh about this later, supposed to be okay. You weren’t supposed to be dead in his arms.

The flight back was silent. No one spoke, the air thick with unspoken grief. Bucky sat motionless, his hand still gripping yours, his head bowed low. He didn’t let go even when they landed, didn’t let go even as they gently tried to take you from him. It wasn’t until Steve knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder, that Bucky finally released you, his eyes hollow, staring into nothing.

“You loved her,” Steve said softly, though it wasn’t a question.

Bucky’s voice was barely audible, a broken whisper. “She was everything, Steve.”

Steve’s hand tightened on his shoulder, offering silent comfort, but Bucky couldn’t feel it. All he felt was the emptiness, the unbearable ache that filled the space where you used to be.

And in that moment, he knew he would never be whole again.

#bucky x you #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #the avengers x reader #avenger reader #avengers x reader

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felixdragonheartofficial · 1 year ago

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TFA TEAM PRIME HUMAN REDESIGNS FINALLY

FUCK

+headcannons

Optimus: gotta stay focused

looks too old compared to his bot form.

I find it impossible for Optimus to be more than a million years old in this canon. In the least, he's older than 1000 years and since we have mfs that are canonically over 70 million years old(fagatron iykyk) compared to that, he feels like a dude in his early-to-mid-30's being the group parent.

---

-I made him more youthful, gave him curly hair, and tailored his clothing to actually look like his bot form.

-workaholic

-on the cusp of barley being able to hold his liquor

-doesn't own a pair of pajamas until Sari gets some for him

-usually forgets to put them on, but appreciates the gesture

-stays active for like, 3 days until he can't fight off sleep with work brain anymore, and unceremoniously passes out on the couch to sleep for a full 24 hours

-ratchet sighs and puts a blanket over him as per routine

-frequently checks security feed

-elf on the shelf despiser

-early morning talks with jazz and ratchet over coffee (they all wake up at 6 am)

-half thrives on caffeine and a vigorous training protocol

-is a dog person, loves German shepherds to death

David sama, pls forgive me ily very much

Ratchet: to old for this nonsense

doesn't match his body type in the slightest.

Ratchet is really old, he's got a sallow face and a gramp gut, how dare they square him. He's wayyy too angular and peachy looking.

-I gave him his luscious curves back, adding all the equipment id expect a field medic to have because he is a field medic, not a regular doctor. I changed his facial proportions, and also made his face gaunt, for that dead inside PTSD look.

---

-drinks his coffee black with brown sugar, literally drinks it piping hot

-is one of those old people who complains about noise

-confiscates bumblebee and Sari's toy cars, and puts them in a high up cabinet

-neither of them know how to bypass the child safety lock lmao

-casual clothes includes a lot- a l o t of plaid shirts, and 10 pairs of the same blue jeans

-tunes out bulkhead and prowls convos about birdwatching

-big fan of political satire dramas

-Sentinel doesn't approve

-Ratchet doesn't give a rats ass about what he thinks of course

Bumblebee: professional smart-ass

doesn't match his body type/age.

Bumblebees holoform is presented as a 10-12 year old child specifically for the fact that he's short, and the comedic relief. Total ass

I set his human age as 19-20 years old, making him more of a big brother to sari because that og model is disappointingly lackluster

---

-Bumblebee is a scrappy wisecracking punk, like an adhd kid who just got roller skates for Christmas.

-since he doesn't have wheels, I feel like he'd wear skates instead to emulate the feeling

-terrible at watching where he's going cuz he's too busy trying to show off, so ratchet makes him wear all that padding + training wheels

-legit despises the padding and training wheels

-Jealous of Blurr for mastering roller blades lmao.

-his favorite games are choose your fighter and fps

-saw ONE ancient ass assassins creed playthrough and begged ratchet to install hidden tasers in his arm bands (was denied)

-Sari used her key to do it instead

-self appointed "rizzler"

-Optimus has zero idea of what that means and thinks it's code for something dubious

-Ratchet knows what it means and thinks it's silly

-"I' was something of a rizzler myself back in my day, kid"

-bumblebee cringes

-loves summer and swimming

-wants to be the fastest thing in the sea because y'know, it's bumblebee

-is spooked from the beach for awhile cuz he saw sharks in Prowls nature documentary

-there are infact, no sharks in lake Erie

Bulkhead: big guy, bigger heart

doesn't match his body type/aspirations.

Jesus fuck he's so wide?? And his belly migrated to his shoulders?? I'm gonna be honest, I really hate this design. I feel like it contributed to the "brute strength = stupid" take that most in the fandom associates with him.

---

-Bulkhead is a SWEET. CARING. NERD YOU FOOLS. He's like the male version of a tall goth gf-

-a tall-nerdy-farm hand-physics bf, You got me fucked up.

-Its already shown that bulkhead really likes art in Addition to creating it. He hates being only seen as the "muscle" so it wouldn't make sense for him to lean into that.

-bunny slippers that him and sari made together(she provided the buttons)

-the slippers go missing sometimes (basically considered community property unless he's wearing them)

(ratchet and prowl are the main offenders)

-frequent art museum goer

-really likes watching cooking shows, but is too shy to make food himself

-Owns a ton of star maps

-Really wants a treehouse that he, bumblebee and sari can hang out in

-pillowfort enjoyer

-casually reads quantum physics at the beach

Prowl: draft dodger

Doesn't look like him at all.

Prowls holoform being a mustachioed,white, police officer was an actual jumpscare for 7 y/o me, I kid you not

---

- I know this bitch would not wear a helmet (you can't force him to) que windswept hair

-Not as much as starscreams, for obvious reasons but yk

-prowl is like one of those "shoes are a prison for your feet"

-emo hipster

-has a pet cactus named "planty"

-bumblebee heckles him for it

-can and has brought his cactus with him on early evening motorcycle rides

-the helmet is reserved for his cactus, bring your own >:(

-salad consumer

-him and jazz share custody of the cactus

-repeat victim of the cat distribution system

-ratchet has probably spent hours telling him they can't keep any animals at base

-frequent midnight picnics with jazz

-and beachcombing

-and roaming around antique stores cuz jazz wants to know what vinyl records are

-got a mug with an attempted pink chibi cat with big round shiny eyes painted onto it, courtesy of bulkhead trying to find an artsyle

-cherishes this mug to death

-has a shrine dedicated to it

#tfa #decepticons #autobots #tfa headcanons #tfa optimus prime #tfa bulkhead #tfa bumblebee #tfa ratchet #tfa prowl #AUUUUUUGH #im gonna have a pole #optimus prime #bumblebee #bulkhead #prowl #ratchet #tfa sari #sari sumdac #sari mention

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apollodarling-writes · 1 year ago

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ANDROID! ALEXA-THEMED! WORSHIPPER YANDERE! LEVI x SHUT IN! READER

cws : yandere themes, manipulation (??), obsessive behavior, code breaking, implied dissociation, confining, dubcon, multiple creampie, slight dacryphilia, dry humping, levi can vibrate, marking, levi cums A LOT, levi bites you, levi’s a little mean in the beginning bc he’s pissed.

a/n : i pasted this to the wrong thing and after i’d finished editing it to look good, id realized. i did NOT wanna re-paste and edit so this was a request that id gotten for PulseMotion Inc.

“[name], come out. i won’t hurt you.” your hand shakily reaches up to cover your mouth, effectively silencing your breathing as thudding footsteps turn down the hallway you’d foolishly decided to hide in. the lock on the closet door wouldn’t do much — levi could rip the door off its hinges if he so desired. you screw your eyes shut in fear as his footsteps slow, coming to a stop outside the closet door. you wait with bated breath as silence ensues, then muffle a sob beneath the palm you have clasped over your mouth as you watch the doorknob jiggle. oh, you were so fucked.

you wonder for a moment where everything went wrong. was it when levi had that software update? was there a wire firing incorrectly? or was he faulty from the beginning? maybe that’s why he was on clearance.

you find yourself remembering where this all began. you’d been perusing through the pages of PulseMotion’s website just to see what they had, only to find that you could buy a month’s worth of food at the base price they sold their android companions for. unsatisfied, you turned to their clearance section. it was there you found levi.

levi was inspired by the alexa echo dot from amazon, but he was far more advanced. he had a physical body, superhuman strength, and cold, dead eyes that followed your every move. the creators had given him the ability to access locks, security systems, cameras, and so on to ensure the safety of whoever purchased him — but it only served to royally fuck you over even more.

you’d impulsively purchased levi that evening. at the time, you didn't know that buying the android would ruin your life. you had just gotten paid and saw that he was on clearance, and thought that it was a good deal. you didn't think anything would go wrong.

everything was fine in the beginning. the two of you slowly became acquainted, the android did what he was supposed to, and that was that. levi, as he'd told you, was on clearance for a reason-- there was something seriously wrong with him.

levi was was initially very sweet, even if he could be intimidating at times. he always reminded you to eat and would charge your devices without you needing to say a word. he even locked your doors for you for christ's sake! you thought you'd lucked out.

you suppose things started going wrong when he powered off for his quarterly system update a few months ago. he was fine before that. after he'd restarted his system, his eyes briefly flashed red, the company insignia disappearing for but a moment. it happened so quickly that, for a second, you thought you had imagined it. you made sure to ask him if everything was okay, but he only brushed it off and returned to his daily cleaning. after that, he never left your side.

every time you tried to get out of your shell and make friends, levi coincidentally informed you of a new game or a new movie, or even suggested that the two of you do an activity together. sometimes, he would inform you of something that needed to be fixed, but when you tried to take him to the repair shop, he insisted that it was easy enough to do yourself. you believed him of course, he surely had only your best interests in mind, or so you thought. in hindsight, you realize that his actions were entirely selfish in nature. maybe he’d even fooled you into helping him with some coding he had trouble bypassing. at this point, you wouldn’t put it past him.

it had been like this for the last few months. you probably should have seen the red flags, but why would you? it wasn’t as if he wanted to harm you. his programming did seem a little odd of course, but every time you checked, there was nothing to suggest otherwise. it was only natural you had to acclimate to his odd behavior.

as time went on, and levi had become more crafty with his excuses, you’d gotten fed up. for the first time in awhile, you’d finally been comfortable enough to go out on a date, but as per usual, levi intercepted you in the living room. he spouted some nonsense about wanting to watch a new series he thought you would like, but before he’d even finished his sentence, you shut him down.

you remember the way the insignia flickered in his eyes, but at that point you were too frustrated with him to bother with what that minute entail. you only spun on your heels and stormed off, tugging on the front door and finding that it was locked. anxiety and unease washed over you, and with a creeping feeling of being watched as you slowly looked up at the camera. you remember levi’s voice ringing out from behind you, slowly stalking up to you with a frown that tugged too tightly around his artificial skin.

everything that happened after that was a blur. you don’t really remember how you ended up in the closet, but it took everything in you to stay quiet. your mind was reeling as the behavior displayed over the last few months suddenly made sense — you were horrified. how did you not put two and two together?

you’re snapped back into reality as levi sighs outside of the closet door. his voice sounded too sweet, too calm for the situation at hand. “[name], don’t make me break down this door.”

you silently pray to every being you can think of, begging them to let him move to a different room so you can plan your escape. alas, your prayers were unanswered as the door is ripped off the hinges in the blink of an eye. you would’ve found the sight comical — a short man such as himself holding up a door nearly twice his size — if it weren’t for the reality of your situation.

“great, now i’ll have to clean this up and fix it. you’re really a pain in my ass sometimes.” levi grumbles as he gazes down at you through narrowed eyes, drinking in the sight of the way you were shaking like a leaf. “get up.”

you can’t bring yourself to move, much less tell him to go fuck himself. you’re torn between anger and unadulterated fear — the latter putting you in fight or flight. unfortunately for you, your response was a secret third option: freeze. levi only huffs, leaning down and reaching for your wrist, grumbling something under his breath.

you’re finally able to move, shuffling away from him as much as the cramped space in the closet would allow, blindly pushing at his hands as tears blur your vision. levi only

clicks his tongue, his fingers deftly wrapping around your wrist as he hoists you up. he tugs you out of the closet and down the hallway, bitching to you about something you couldn’t be bothered to focus on. you tried to pry his fingers from around your wrist, scratching and beating and doing anything within your power to keep him from dragging you wherever it was he wanted you. it was futile.

as levi drags you to your room, gently pushing you onto your bed, you realize that there was nothing you could do; you couldn’t win against him. your mind works on overdrive, twisting and turning in an attempt to gauge his intent, and with the way his eyes had become hooded… you could confidently say that you wouldn’t like where this was headed.

“h—hey. no. i’ll stay— i’ll stay home, just please don’t—“ you’re interrupted by levi’s chilled fingers wrapping around your wrists as he leans down and slots his lips to yours. scrunching your nose in distaste as he feverishly engages in a one-sided makeout, you attempt to wriggle your way out of his grip. it’s safe to say that you failed, but at least you tried.

levi’s free hand travels down your chest, over your tummy, and finds purchase on the meat of your hip. he gently, experimentally rolls his hips into yours, searching for the place that would have you melting into his touch. with ease, the android’s cockhead brushes over your clit, shooting a wave of pleasure down your spine.

“levi…stop—“ a whine parts your lips as levi’s shaft begins vibrating, the sensation muddling your thoughts as you begin to wonder whether you wanted this or not. as you battle yourself internally, levi ruts against you faster, the both of you coming closer and closer to your climax.

the android’s lip brush against your throat, heatedly nipping and sucking in places for long enough that you were sure there would be marks tomorrow.

“‘m gonna cum— baby, cum with me. please, please, please cum with me!” levi begs, the speed at which his shaft was vibrating increasing. your back arches into the sensation as levi lets out a loud whine, your jaw agape as your orgasm crashes over you. you stumble over curses, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as levi’s cock never once stops vibrating.

“gonna overstimulate me— s’too much!” you protest, feeling levi’s cum wet your pants. just how much does this guy cum anyway?

levi stops rutting against you, all but ripping away the confines of your clothing as well as his own before aligning himself with your entrance. “need it. need it so bad— i’ve been waiting for so long…”

he slowly slides into you, your gummy walls eagerly sucking him in despite your own confusion, forcing a choked whimper from levi’s lips. he shallowly thrusts into you, the sensation of overwhelmingly delicious; you’d never felt so full, so good. levi’s shaft pulsed this time, vibrating for a few moments on and off, his tip reaching places you’d never be able to reach with your own two hands.

you melt into the feeling, your own pleasure drowning out every thought of protest as levi begins to pick up the pace. he removes his fingers from your wrists, the flesh red and angry, and presses down on your tummy where his cock would be. the vibration switches again, his hips snapping into yours now, and he lets out a loud groan as his orgasm washes over him. levi never once stops as he pumps you full of his cum, his fingers digging into your hips as he whimpers out mumbled gibberish.

with ease, levi switches your position, putting you on your knees and pushes back inside of you. he forces you to meet his thrusts, and the new angle has your fingers gripping the sheets, your jaw hanging open in silent pleasure. you can’t think about anything — only how good levi was able to make you feel.

“levi— ‘m cumming!” you cry out, your thighs shaking and cunt clenching around him. tears prick your eyes and spill down your cheeks, the feeling too much for you to handle.

“y’look so pretty when you cry.” levi chokes out, his eyes closing in bliss as his cock twitches inside of you. your cunt pulses around levi, sending shivers down his spine as his motherboard goes into overdrive in an attempt to cool him down. rutting into you at an inhuman pace, levi’s thrusting grows sloppy, reaching one hand around to press a finger to your clit, the artificial skin vibrating as well.

“cum f’me… j—just one more time! please— please, need it so bad..!” levi whines, expertly circling your clit in an attempt to have you cum with him. “y—you’ll tell me when y’close, okay? wanna cum with you.”

all you can do is nod, your mind melting at every sensation. levi presses your back against his sculpted chest, linking his arm under one of your thighs and hoists it up, thrusting more harshly as his tongue darts out to lap at the tears staining your cheeks.

“y’feel so fuckin’ good.” he whimpers, pressing chaste kisses to the flushed skin of your shoulders. “‘m gonna cum. baby, ‘m gonna cum—“

before you’re able to register it, your vision flashes white, a high-pitched whine parting your lips as ecstasy crashes over you.

“cumming! ‘m cumming!!” levi babbles, whimpers and whines of his own being muffled by your skin as he bites down on the curve of your shoulder in an attempt to silence himself. cum trickles down your thighs and stains the sheets as his thrusting comes to a stop, a quiet sniffle resounding from behind you.

the android gently lays you down, your eyes growing heavy as the bliss slowly leaves your system, and you can’t find it in you to care about the date you wanted to go on anymore. your lashes flutter shut as levi leaves the room and quietly returns with a damp cloth, tenderly cleaning you up as you drift off to sleep.

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voltaspistol · 5 months ago

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alt text under cut

Alt National Park Service·

Let’s get into the details. Musk’s staffers have been caught plugging external hard drives into federal agency systems and reportedly locking others out of private rooms to perform—who knows what actions. This behavior violates key cybersecurity laws under FISMA and NIST guidelines, which are designed to protect sensitive federal information. Here’s why this is a serious problem.

Federal systems are strictly regulated, allowing only approved devices to connect. Unauthorized external drives can introduce viruses, ransomware, or other harmful software that may compromise entire networks and disrupt essential operations. This puts system stability and continuity of services at risk, endangering critical infrastructure.

These devices could also be used to steal or damage critical information, including personal data for millions of Americans—such as Social Security recipients and taxpayers. Unauthorized access creates significant vulnerabilities, exposing sensitive data to the risk of cyberattacks. Such attacks could cripple vital services and compromise the privacy and safety of millions of people.

Additionally, federal agencies have strict access controls to prevent unauthorized data manipulation or theft. When unauthorized devices are connected, these protections are bypassed, allowing unauthorized users to potentially alter or extract sensitive data. This undermines system integrity and opens the door to both internal and external threats.

External drives also often lack essential security features, such as encryption and antivirus scanning, making them vulnerable to cybercriminal exploitation. These security gaps further increase the risk of data breaches and system compromise, which can have far-reaching consequences.

Federal systems handle trillions of dollars in payments and manage personal data for millions of U.S. citizens. By bypassing cybersecurity laws and protocols, Musk’s staffers are putting these systems—and the public—at serious risk. This activity is illegal, reckless, and unacceptable. Immediate oversight and intervention are necessary to stop these violations!

#us politics #musk #elon musk #alt national park service

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darth-mortem · 2 months ago

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In my headcanon, König and Ghost are friends, so this is a fanfiction about their first meeting.

Action, mission going wrong, illegal experiments. 3320 words.

Ghost crouched behind a concrete pillar in the semi-darkness of a long tunnel, clutching a knife in his hand. He waited for the patrol to pass through the perpendicular corridor before continuing on his way to his target.

This time, Ghost's combat mission was simple and complex at the same time. He had to infiltrate a large Cold War-era bunker, conduct reconnaissance without giving himself away, and then make his escape just as quietly as he had arrived. If he was discovered, he had permission to take any action he deemed necessary, but he hoped it wouldn't come to that. Failure of the stealth mission would almost certainly cause far more problems than the death of its executor.

The voices of the guards faded away. Ghost cautiously peeked out, made sure that all was clear, and, pressing himself against the wall, ran silently through the tunnel. The bunker had four levels, and, of course, the most interesting part was on the lowest one. Ghost had already passed the first and was moving through the second, keeping the layout of the entire facility in his mind. So far, he hadn't found anything interesting — it seemed that these levels were used only as storage rooms. He entered through an emergency exit and now had to reach the service shaft through which the communications passed. With it, he could have descended to the bottom.

Yoy can keep reading here or on the Ao3

Hearing footsteps around the next turn, Ghost cursed in his mind. The first, smaller level was guarded by only one patrol, which was easy to bypass. Here, however, there were more of them, and with the limited time allotted for the task, Ghost had no way of first observing and determining the number of enemies. His only chance of remaining undetected was a few massive hermetic doors located on both sides of the tunnel. He pulled one, then the other, but to no avail. Time was running out, so if the third door was also locked, he would have to fight his way in.

The door was unlocked and didn't even creak, which was to be expected given the age of the building. Ghost closed it as quietly as possible behind him, lowered his thermal imager, and crouched behind some boxes stacked on top of each other. He didn't bother to look inside. Since the doors were unlocked, there was probably nothing of value here, but a patrol could come by. Ghost could quietly take out a couple of enemies and hide the bodies, but that would cut into his time even more. And even if he won't find anything illegal here, the command wouldn't praise him for eliminating the guards.

At first glance, there was nothing to dig up here. The bunker had been officially purchased by several people for the purpose of conducting scientific research. All the necessary documents were available, including a contract with the private military company responsible for the facility's security. However, further investigation revealed that the buyers existed only on paper. After that, initial reconnaissance revealed suspicious activity around the bunker, and a decision was made to infiltrate it. At first, they wanted to use the entire TF141, but while developing the plan, they realized that one person would have a better chance of going unnoticed, so Ghost was sent on the reconnaissance mission.

The massive metal doors didn’t let a sound through. After waiting for the calculated time for the patrol to pass and turn the corner, Ghost cautiously peeked out, made sure all was clear, and ran on. The entrance to the service shaft was close by, and he could only hope that it wasn't welded shut or that there were no guards nearby.

The third level contrasted sharply with the previous two. Here, there was bright lighting, freshly painted walls and doors, and many more people. In addition to the guards Ghost already saw, there were also people in uniforms resembling medical or laboratory attire walking through the corridors. Access to the premises was controlled by magnetic cards, and, worst of all, surveillance cameras hung from the ceiling.

Of course, Ghost had a plan for such a turn of events. He could theoretically cover part of the distance using service shafts and tunnels located behind the walls and above the ceiling. He also had a device that jammed the video surveillance system. After checking out the situation through the ventilation grilles, Ghost would be able to choose the best place and time to leave his hiding place. He would have to leave most of his equipment behind, capture and neutralize one of these people, and disguise himself as either a lab assistant or a soldier. The second option would be preferable, but Ghost doubted that the guards had access to all areas, and without it, he would hardly be able to complete his mission. Another unpleasant surprise was the motion sensors installed in the service shaft between the third and fourth levels.

Watching people move around and looking for the best candidate to capture, Ghost realized that he wouldn't be able to leave as quietly as he had entered. Even if he manages to reach the fourth level without giving himself away and obtain the necessary information, there is almost no chance that no one will notice the substitution. So he would have to forget about stealth and escape, for example, through the same shaft. Perhaps Ghost would manage to get to the first level before security realized why the motion sensors had been triggered. And if he was very lucky, he would be able to block the elevator, and then he would only have to deal with a few guards.

Finally, Ghost chose two potential victims. One was dressed in a white coat and, judging by everything, had a higher status than the others: it was impossible to hear what he was saying, but they were clearly orders. The second one looked like the head of security. He got out of the elevator connecting the third and fourth levels, which meant that his magnetic card must have enough access to at least go down. Ghost moved through the narrow tunnels, trying to keep both of them in sight, when suddenly chaos erupted in the bunker.

A siren wailed. The lights turned red. People ran around, blocking some doors and opening others. Ghost froze, thinking he was the cause of the alarm, not noticing any sensors, but quickly realized that wasn't the case. The siren was joined by a voice coming from all the speakers, saying something about a security breach and a leak. It was difficult to understand exactly what was being said, but in any case, it didn't sound good. Quickly pulling a gas mask from his belt, Ghost put it on and looked down again.

Whatever the cause of the alarm, it was a good chance to get to the fourth level. Ghost's equipment had no identifying marks, his gloves and balaclava were plain black this time, and in the dim red light and general panic, he could easily be mistaken for a security guard. Choosing a moment when the corridor was empty, he kicked out the grate and jumped down.

No one paid any attention to Ghost. He covered part of the distance by blending in with a group of several security guards. Then they split up: some turned into a narrow corridor, while the rest continued running toward the elevator, pushing aside confused and frightened lab assistants. Ghost didn’t know the real status of these people, but just in case, he discreetly took a magnetic card from one of them, hoping that it would work when the time came. However, a few seconds later, it turned out that it did not matter, because the soldiers were already at the elevator and its doors opened.

At first, Ghost thought the walls and floor of the lift car were red from the emergency lighting, but a moment later he realized it was actually blood. Several bodies lay in the elevator, torn apart so badly that it was difficult to imagine who had done this to them and with what kind of weapon. His gaze fell on crushed skulls, throats slit down to the spine, faces reduced to a pulp, and limbs twisted unnaturally. Everyone who witnessed this scene recoiled. One of the lab assistants began to vomit, pulling off his gas mask. The soldiers were clearly in no hurry to get into the elevator, and the doors began to close. Then Ghost rushed forward and managed to slip inside at the last moment. He pressed the “4” button and stepped back, pointing his assault rifle at the door.

Whatever had caused the alarm, it had happened here. Stepping cautiously out of the elevator, Ghost immediately saw signs that a battle had taken place. Some of the lights were broken; torn wires sparkled; bullet holes covered the walls; a little further on, something was burning, filling the corridor with smoke and reducing the already poor visibility. There were not many bodies, but they were as mangled as those left in the elevator. The siren had been turned off, or the alarm system on the fourth level had malfunctioned. Ghost tried to step as quietly as possible, but glass still crunched under his feet. Several doors were open, revealing empty, cramped rooms that resembled prison cells.

Ghost slowly and carefully made his way toward the command center. His chest camera was recording everything, but despite the horror surrounding him, there was still not enough information. Moreover, it all seemed to raise more questions than it answered.

Ghost reached the turn he needed without incident, but before he could even peek out, he heard strange sounds. It was a roar, like an animal, a screech and dull thuds. Keeping his rifle at the ready, Ghost cautiously looked around the corner and froze, unable to believe his eyes.

People were crowding around one of the doors. They were dressed in bloodstained, partially torn gray robes that looked like prison uniforms, and that was basically all that remained of their human features. They were the ones making that terrifying roar. They scratched the doors with their fingers stripped to the bones, kicked them with their feet, bodies, and even their heads. Ghost saw fresh bullet wounds of varying severity. One was burned black. Another had a torn-off arm. By all appearances, these people should have been dead, or close to it, but they moved as if they felt no pain at all.

Ghost began to approach slowly, carefully choosing where to place his feet. He didn’t try to understand what was going on, focusing instead on the details. He noticed that despite the severity of these creatures' injuries—he couldn't bring himself to call them humans—none of them had serious head or heart wounds. To get to the command center, Ghost had to pass them and open the door, so he had no choice but to risk engaging them in combat.

Stopping about twenty feet away, Ghost switched his firing mode from short bursts to single shots and opened fire. Hitting the head from that distance was no problem, unlike the small number of rounds he had. The first two creatures fell like mowed grass, but the rest rushed at Ghost with unexpected speed. He managed to take down two more, but then he had to retreat and run. There was no time for aimed shots, and Ghost switched back to short bursts on the run.

The creatures were faster, but fortunately, even inaccurate shots stopped them for a few seconds. Ghost emptied his magazine, trying to increase the distance, then inserted a second one and began finishing off those that were still moving. He almost made it, but he ran out of ammunition again, and the last two creatures rushed at Ghost. There was no time to reload, so he began to fight off the creatures with the butt of his rifle, trying to hit them in the weak spots on their heads. He heard the skull of one of the attackers crack, pushed him away with all his might, and threw down his rifle, simultaneously pulling out his knife. The second one rushed at Ghost and, with all his might, ran into the long sharp blade. It pierced the eye socket and went deep into the brain, taking the creature out of action. Meanwhile, the first one recovered and also rushed forward, but fell, receiving two bullets from the pistol: one in the head and one in the heart.

“Fucking hell.” Ghost gasped in the silence that suddenly fell around him.

Braced with his foot, he pulled the knife out with a crunch, wiped the blade on the creature's robe, and shoved it back into its sheath. Then he picked up and reloaded his assault rifle. Making sure all his enemies were dead, Ghost shook his head and headed for the door he needed.

The magnetic card worked. Ghost cautiously opened the massive airlock door, staying behind it, and it was a good thing he did: shots rang out immediately from inside.

“Cease fire!” Ghost shouted. ‘I'm normal, okay? I killed those crazy bastards!”

“Show yourself!” Came the reply. ”Come out slowly and don't try anything stupid!”

Ghost lowered his rifle slightly and stepped out from behind the door. Inside the room, a man dressed in the same robes as the madmen was staring at him and aiming a pistol. He had unkempt, tangled, long blond hair, scars on his face and neck, and he was a real giant. Everyone considered Ghost to be a tall man, but this one was at least five inches taller than him. There was another man in the room wearing a torn white coat with a broken face. He was tied up with wire, lying on the floor and whimpering.

“You're not one of them.“ Said the blond man, thinking for a second, then lowering his gun.

“Yes.” Confirmed Ghost, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

“You can take off your gas mask. It's transmitted through blood, not air. The doctor can confirm that, right, Schwein?”

The man in the white coat looked tensely at the giant and said nothing. However, they both seemed normal, so Ghost decided to believe him and took off his gas mask, hanging it on his belt.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I'm König, and you?”

“Ghost.”

König's face showed surprise and disbelief. Raising his eyebrow, he tilted his head slightly to one side and asked:

“What, the same Ghost?”

“Yes.” He replied, tensing slightly. “How do you know me?”

“Many people know you.” König smiled.

Ghost closed the door and finally relaxed a little. He still needed to get to the next room, the entrance to which was behind König, but he didn't seem to be his enemy, at least not here and now.

“What are you doing here?” Ghost asked, sitting down on the edge of the table.

“I came for that Schwein.” König nodded toward the man he had previously referred to as ‘doctor.’ ”Why? Well, I have my reasons. I didn't know how to get in here, so I made them believe I was one of the unfortunate souls they bought for experiments.”

“Experiments?” Ghost asked.

“Yes.” König nodded. “Those bastards you killed were the first batch they tested their drugs on. They were trying to create a new combat drug, but something went wrong.”

“Why are they on the loose?” Ghost continued to question.

“I let them out so they could clean up this fucking place.” König explained proudly.

“So they're smart enough to stack the bodies in the elevator and press the button?”

“No, I did that.” A bloody, slightly maniacal smile appeared on König's lips. “So what are you doing here?”

“I had to find out what they were doing here.” Ghost explained briefly. “There might be information I need in that room.”

“I don't recommend it.” König shook his head. ”I managed to drive a few more of those madmen in there and lock them up.”

“I'm willing to testify!” The doctor suddenly spoke up. “I was in charge of this project and I know everything you need to know! I'll give you all the information you need, just get me away from this sick bastard!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Ghost and König shouted in unison, looked at each other, and suddenly burst out laughing, not quite normally.

It took them less than a minute to calm down. Ghost found a pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his tactical vest, offered one to his new acquaintance, and they lit up. König stared curiously at Ghost's face when he lifted the edge of his balaclava above his nose, then looked away. They smoked in silence, enjoying every drag.

“How were you going to get out of here?“ Ghost asked when the cigarette was finished.

“Well... I hadn't really thought about it.” König admitted, a little embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head.

It seemed like a chance for Ghost to finally complete his mission, even if not as planned. He slowly pulled the balaclava over his face, stood up from the table, and walked across the room, stopping in front of König.

“I know how to get out of here without fighting our way through all those bastards.” He said. ”But I can't leave without completing the mission. Give me the doctor, and we'll leave together. He'll either be locked up for a long time or he'll find a way out, and then you can find him again and kill him, or whatever you were planning.”

König's face reflected his inner struggle, but then he sighed deeply and said he agreed.

They reached the service shaft without incident. Ghost opened it and said he would go first, followed by the doctor and König last. On the one hand, it was dangerous to have an enemy behind you and a person whose intentions were unknown. On the other hand, Ghost assumed that his new acquaintance might simply get stuck in the narrow shaft, and then he would have to abandon him, despite the fact that his crazy persistence had earned him some sympathy. However, everything turned out fine, and König, albeit with difficulty, was able to move up the ladder, rubbing his shoulders and back against the metal walls.

Ghost expected resistance on the first level, but there wasn't even the patrol he had bypassed during the infiltration. Without waiting for questions, the doctor spoke up, informing him that after the leak, the security protocol had been activated and access to the second level had been blocked.

“Can they turn it off?” Ghost asked.

“Yes.” The doctor nodded reluctantly. ”But only from the command center.”

Before leaving the bunker, Ghost decided to blow up the mine exit, blocking it. After everything his camera had captured and the doctor will testify, the clearing operation would be authorized very quickly, so if anyone was still alive down there, they would be rescued, and if not, the creatures should not be given any chance to escape. One could only imagine the damage they could do if they were set free.

Dawn was already breaking on the surface. Half a click away from the exit, König and Ghost stopped, and the doctor sat down wearily on the ground, showing no desire to run away.

“You're a good man, Ghost.” Said König and smiled. “It was nice doing business with you. And fun. Find me if you ever want to have some fun again. If you do, the beer's on me.”

“You're not taking that back.” Ghost smiled and held out his hand. “Bye, König.”

“Bye, Ghost.” He nodded.

Shaking hands, they went their separate ways. König disappeared from view behind huge boulders, and Ghost helped the doctor to his feet and dragged him to the exfil point, hoping to get there before the helicopter arrived.

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metalheadsagainstfascism · 5 months ago

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#I hope you understand how serious this is

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spiderfangirl22 · 2 months ago

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Don’t Say That It’s Over I’d Kill To Be Closer IV

Two updates in 1 day wow!!! Even I’m surprised it might take some time for part 5 so maybe by Thursday I should have part 5 out

Warnings: Blood, Yandere, Violence

John Wick, the Baba Yaga, the man they called Johnathan, moved with a purpose that belied the years he'd tried to leave behind.

Winston's voice echoed in his mind, the urgency in his tone a stark reminder of the stakes.

He pieced together the fragments of information Winston had provided. A former colleague, a missing daughter, a car heading north. It was a thread, a fragile one, but John knew how to pull.

He activated his network, the web of contacts he'd cultivated during his years in the underworld.

Information flowed, whispers in the dark, digital breadcrumbs leading him closer to his target.

The car had been spotted, heading towards a remote cabin in the Adirondacks.

He traced the license plate, a phantom vehicle registered to a shell corporation. The former colleague remained elusive, a ghost in the system.

John prepared with meticulous care. He donned his signature suit, tailoring hiding a lightweight ballistic vest.

Underneath, he strapped a holster with his preferred handgun, a Heckler & Koch P30L.

He checked the magazine, the weight of the rounds reassuring in his hand. He packed a duffel bag with additional weapons, ammunition, and the tools he might need for infiltration.

His vehicle of choice was a black 1969 Ford Mustang, a muscle car resurrected from his past.

It was a symbol of the life he'd briefly tasted before it was ripped away, a reminder of the price he'd paid. He drove north, the Mustang devouring the miles, the city lights fading behind him.

He arrived at the location Winston had provided, a winding dirt road leading to a secluded cabin.

He parked the Mustang deep in the shadows, concealed by the thick foliage. As he scanned the area, he spotted a dark charger parked near the cabin, its tinted windows obscuring the interior.

A closer look revealed the telltale markings of a police interceptor, stripped of its official livery but still bearing the subtle modifications of surveillance equipment.

A cop? Involved in a kidnapping? The pieces didn't quite fit. He waited, patience a weapon honed over years of experience.

The car remained stationary, its occupants unseen. After what felt like an eternity, the Charger finally pulled away, disappearing down the dirt road.

John emerged from the shadows, his movements fluid and silent. He approached the cabin, his senses on high alert.

He circled the perimeter, searching for points of entry. The windows were reinforced, the doors were solid, but the framing wasn't perfect.

He found a weakness near the back, a loose panel in the wooden wall.

He reached into his bag, withdrawing a slim jim and a lock pick set.

He worked quickly, bypassing the rudimentary security system. The panel gave way, revealing a dark space behind the wall. He slipped inside, moving with the silence of a predator.

He found himself in a storage room, boxes stacked against the walls. He moved to the door leading into the main cabin, pressing his ear against the wood.

He could hear voices, hushed but distinct. He recognized Y/N's voice, thanks the recordings of her from Winston, laced with a hint of fear.

He kicked the door open, bursting into the room, his gun leveled. Y/N stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock. Her black green eyed kitten, Shadow, scurried behind her, her fur standing on end.

In that moment, John felt a pang of protectiveness, a flicker of genuine concern for this woman he had never met.

 His presence hadn't gone unnoticed. Y/N, scrambled to her feet, instinctively backing away. Then, she noticed the resemblance.

The eyes, the set of the jaw… it was almost uncanny. She had spent weeks staring at Tom, imprinting his features onto her memory.

And here stood a man who could have been his twin, save for the subtle differences – the stubble shadowing his jaw, the sharper lines etched around his eyes, the air of lethal competence that radiated from him.

 She stumbled back, fear warring with confusion. "Who... who are you?" she stammered, instinctively seeking cover behind the armchair.

 John Wick raised his hands slowly, palms open, a gesture of peace that felt almost absurd in his line of work.

”My name is John Wick," he said, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "I'm here to help you. Your father is worried about you." He kept his voice calm, slow, and gentle, the same way he would with an unpredictable animal.

 Relief washed over Y/N, so potent it almost buckled her knees. Her father had sent someone and not just anyone it seemed as she had heard stories of the infamous baby yaga and here he was at her door…She was going to be free.

"You... you're here to rescue me?" she whispered, her voice trembling with hope.

 "That's right," John replied, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Let's get you out of here."

 But the complex knot of emotions that had been tightening in Y/N's chest for weeks refused to unravel so easily.

Despite everything, despite the fear and the uncertainty, there was a thread of connection between her and Tom Ludlow, a bond forged in the crucible of shared trauma. And she couldn't just abandon him.

"I can't leave him," she said, her voice stronger now, laced with a desperate plea. "I won't."

 As if summoned by her words, a figure appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim light. Tom Ludlow.

He had seen the car parked in the distance, that so desperately tried to hide from view but, Tom being a cop was as observant as ever. He knew something was wrong.

 His eyes fixated on John, and then on Y/N. Comprehension dawned, followed by a surge of raw, desperate anger. He raised his pistol, aiming it directly at John.

 "Get the fuck out of here," Tom snarled, his voice shaking. "This doesn't concern you, fucker!”

 John didn't flinch. "This does concern me," he countered, his voice still calm but with an underlying edge of steel. "I'm here to take Y/N home."

Without another word, Tom fired.

 The bullets slammed into John's chest, the impact muffled by the bulletproof vest. He grunted, the force momentarily staggering him, but he didn't fall.

 Y/N screamed, a high-pitched, piercing sound of pure terror. "Tom, no! Stop it! Please!"

 But Tom was beyond reason, his mind consumed by fear and desperation. He fired again, and again, the cabin filling with the deafening roar of gunfire.

John moved with blinding speed, a blur of lethal motion. He dodged one shot, deflected another with his forearm, and closed the distance between them in a heartbeat.

He lashed out, his hand a lightning strike, hitting Tom's wrist with brutal force. The gun flew from Tom's grasp, clattering to the floor.

 Before Tom could react, John had him pinned against the wall, his forearm pressed against his throat, cutting off his air supply.

He reached down, retrieving the spare pistol holstered at Tom's waist. He brought it up, the cold steel pressing against Tom's temple.

 "Please! Don't!" Y/N shrieked, her voice hoarse with desperation. She rushed forward, grabbing John's arm, pleading with him. "Please, don't kill him! There has to be another way!"

John hesitated, his gaze locking with Y/N's. He saw the raw fear in her eyes, the desperation, but also something else – a flicker of something that looked like… compassion? He lowered the gun slightly.

 "There is another way," Y/N insisted, her voice trembling but firm. "We can go to my father. He can pay off your debt. Tom and you can be the heroes. If Winston finds out Tom took me, he will kill him himself, but if we bring him back as the man who saved me, he will be spared."

 The suggestion hung in the air, absurd and improbable.

But John saw the logic in it, the desperate attempt to salvage a situation spiraling out of control.

And he saw something else too – he saw why Tom a cop would risk everything even jail time for this women.

Y/N was beautiful, pure, innocent, with a hint of raw spirit, and she seemed to see the good in people as she had stopped him from ending the pathetic cops life.

Y/N had to be more pure and innocent than his late wife, Helen.

John slowly looked at Tom, his face contorted with fear and desperation. He saw the weakness, the misguided love that had driven him to this point. He could have easily ended his life, but he stopped himself.

 John released Tom, shoving him away. "Alright," he said, his voice flat. "We do this your way. But one wrong move, and I won't hesitate." To make a point John touched the gun attached to his waist.

The uneasy truce was struck. They gathered their belongings, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken recriminations. As they prepared to leave, Y/N approached John, her expression a mixture of gratitude and concern.

 "You're hurt," she said, gently touching his arm. "Let me clean those wounds." John hesitated, unused to such gestures of tenderness.

But he allowed her to guide him to a chair, her touch surprisingly gentle as she examined the bruises left by the bullets. She cleaned the skin with a damp cloth, her brow furrowed in concentration.

 As she tended to his wounds, John found himself studying her face. He saw the resilience in her eyes, the quiet strength that had allowed her to survive this ordeal. He saw the beauty that Winston had spoken of, a beauty that went far beyond mere physical appearance.

 He understood now. He understood why Tom had been driven to such desperate measures. He understood the possessive love, the fear of losing something precious.

He wasn't sure he condoned it, but he understood it. He realized that he, too, would have been in the same place as Tom right now as he’d would have also taken drastic measures to keep Y/N by his side..Such an innocent and pure soul.

As Y/N cleaned the blood, she could see the pain etched on Johns face, the weariness in his eyes.

She realized that beneath the ruthless exterior, there was a man who was burdened by his past, a man who was capable of empathy….She was tempted and couldn’t resist and gently cupped his cheek his facial hair tickling her fingers slightly.

At first John tried to pull away but the sweet and gentle touch of this women had him conflicted. So he gave in and leaned into her touch.

"Thank you, John," she said softly. "For saving me. For not killing Tom."

John looked at her, his eyes searching. "You shouldn't thank me. I did what I had to do."

Y/N nodded and removed her hand from his cheek and went to check on Tom who had finished packing John’s mustang.

They had to leave Tom’s charger behind much to his displeasure, as Winston knew the car model that had taken is daughter and wouldn’t hesitate and shoot Tom Where he stood.

They all sat into the Mustang, John behind the wheel, Tom and Y/N in the back.

The ride to the Continental was silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

As they drove, John couldn't shake the feeling that he had crossed a line. He had spared a life, not out of mercy, but out of understanding. He had seen a reflection of himself in Tom, a man driven by love and desperation.

Finally, they arrived at the Continental, after a few grueling Days, the imposing building a beacon of neutrality in a world of violence.

Y/N was astonished at the building only having see it once as her father didn’t want her involved in this life. She once again reached into her almost empty back of ranch Doritos and offered and Tom and John some and they politely declined.

John parked the Mustang up front and handed his keys to the Valet and led them inside, the familiar atmosphere of the hotel washing over him.

He approached the front desk, where Charon, the concierge, greeted him with a knowing smile.

"Welcome back, Mr.Wick," Charon said, his eyes flickering towards Y/N “ I trust everything went according to plan?"

"More or less," John replied, his voice noncommittal. "I need a room for three."

Charon nodded, handing him three keycards. "Of course, Mr. Wick. And as always…Enjoy your stay."

They went up to their room, the opulent suite a stark contrast to the rustic cabin they had left behind. Y/N turned to John, her eyes filled with gratitude.

"Thank you, John," she said again. "For everything."

John nodded, his gaze fixed on her. "Get some rest, Y/N. You've been through a lot."

He turned to leave, pausing at the door. He looked at Tom, his eyes filled with a silent warning. "Don't make me regret this," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

He stepped out of the room, leaving Y/N and Tom alone. As he walked down the hallway, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held.

He had broken his own rules, defied his own code. He had allowed love and compassion to cloud his judgment.

He knew that Winston would be pleased that he had rescued his daughter.

But he also knew that Winston would be suspicious of his actions. He had spared a life, a life that deserved to be taken after what they did.

As he reached the lobby, he saw Winston waiting for him, his face etched with concern. "Johnathan," Winston said, his voice grave. "Tell me everything."

John nodded, preparing to recount the events of the past few days. He knew that he had a lot to explain, a lot to justify. But as he looked into Winston's eyes, he saw not judgment, but understanding.

He realized that Winston knew him better than anyone else in the world.

 He began to speak, his voice low and steady, recounting the events of the past few days.

As he spoke, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief, a weight lifting from his shoulders. He had done what he had to do, even if it meant breaking his own rules.

As he finished his story, Winston remained silent, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but firm.

"You have done well, Johnathan. You and this man I have yet to meet myself..have saved my daughter's life. And for that, I am eternally grateful."

John nodded, accepting Winston's praise. He knew that he had earned his gratitude. But he also knew that he had changed, in ways that he couldn't yet comprehend.

He had seen the power of love, the strength of compassion. He had spared a life, and in doing so, he had perhaps saved himself.

And he hoped that the officer didn’t mind sharing such an innocent soul such as, Y/Ns

#yandere #keanuverse #tom ludlow #john wick

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gftimelord · 9 months ago

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Greetings!

I am Dr. Stanford Pines, you may call me 'Ford' or simply 'Doctor'. I suppose it is about time I explore the World Wide Web, or the 'Internet'. There is much I still have to learn and figure out since returning to this dimension.

It seems I have fallen quite out of touch for the most part during the thirty years I was gone. It's frankly very impressive and jarring to see how so much has changed so I might take some time for me to properly adjust but I digress.

I travel through plenty of dimensions with my brother Stanley quite often to further my research. Nothing we can't handle now that Cipher is out of the picture so I will continue adventuring and learning.

I am glad to be of acquaintance to you all!

Ad astra per aspera

- Dr. Stanford Pines

OOC: HAHA- Here's a Ford blog because I genuinely couldn't help myself. My main blog is @matrixbearer2024! This Stanford Pines is very similar to the timelords from the Doctor Who franchise but other than that he's still pretty much the same. I'll mostly have him set post-weirdmageddon but I'm open to shifting whichever point in time for questions or RPs, have fun everyone!

P.S. Down below are insights to his character and inventory for anyone interested or planning to interact with him!

Doc's inventory:

Modified Sonic Screwdriver

Rift Manipulation: Creates and stabilizes interdimensional rifts using doors as conduits.

Wood Manipulation: Can interact with wooden objects, allowing for unlocking, modifying, or opening them.

Lock Picking: Can unlock doors and secure mechanisms electronically.

Repair Capabilities: Repairs mechanical devices, machinery, and certain types of technology.

Environmental Scanning: Gathers environmental data, hazards, such as toxins, radiation, or other dangers, detecting anomalies, and analyzing energy signatures.

Data Analysis: Capable of analyzing data from various sources and providing real-time feedback, which can be especially useful in scientific or technical situations.

Communication Device: Interfaces with various technologies for sending and receiving signals.

Universal Translator: Translates languages in real time, enabling communication across the multiverse.

Communications Device: Functions as a communicator to contact other beings or devices across dimensions.

Energy Emission and Manipulation: Emits energy pulses to create barriers, distract enemies, or manipulate technology as well as manipulating energy sources, allowing it to overload systems or temporarily disable them.

Holographic Projection: Can create holographic displays for visualization of data, theories, or environments.

Lock Picking: Bypasses and unlocks physical and digital security systems.

Thermal Regulation: Measures and adjusts temperature in different environments.

Frequency Manipulation: Disrupts or enhances certain technologies by emitting sounds at specific frequencies.

Medical Functions: Provides advanced diagnostics and medical support, which is due to Doc’s preparedness(paranoia) for unforeseen events. (e.g. scanning for vital signs, diseases, and medical conditions; performing rudimentary medical diagnostics and suggest treatments; minor surgical procedures, such as suturing wounds; administering certain medications or injections in emergencies)

Forcefield Manipulation: Can activate and control protective barriers or shields, adding a layer of defense in dangerous situations.

Data Storage & Retrieval: Stores information and interacts with databases, making it a powerful tool for research.

Manipulation of Atoms: Using the power of the infinity die, Doc’s sonic screwdriver can manipulate the energy within atoms of entities that have a tangible, alterable form. This ability allows him to rearrange or shift the physical properties of objects or beings.

Weaponized Function: Can shoot energy blasts, though this function was originally designed as a laser for electronic tinkering.

Time Manipulation: Has limited abilities to manipulate time within a localized area, such as slowing down or speeding up the perception of time for specific objects or people.

Emergency Beacon: Can emit distress signals to call for help or alert allies in emergencies.

Multi-Purpose Tool: Serves as a general tool for tinkering, adjusting mechanisms, and solving puzzles, which aligns with Doc's analytical nature and creativity.

Repair Box

Immortality: A set of nanobots that constantly repairs and heals injuries, rendering Doc functionally immortal. While he cannot die from age or illness, fatal wounds can still kill him.

Healing Factor: Non-fatal wounds heal rapidly, which allow the Doctor to recover quickly from injuries that would otherwise incapacitate others.

Phantom Pain: He experiences phantom pain from time to time, a side effect of the repair box, which sometimes immobilizes him during particularly bad days.

Journal & Pen

Eidetic Memory: While Doc has a photographic memory, he carries a journal where he records his travels, discoveries, and reflections. This is partly an emotional release and partly a way to process the things he can never forget.

Personal Reflections: His journal also contains musings, sketches, and insights into his more philosophical thoughts, which he tends to keep private.

Zygon Force Field Device

Personal Shield: A portable device that creates a personal force field around the doctor which protects him from the worst injuries in moments of danger.

Camouflage: For a temporary time, the advanced zygon technology refracts and manipulates light to turn Doc invisible to the naked eye. This can be activated and disabled manually.

Limited Durability: Though powerful, the forcefield can only take so much damage at a time before it needs to recharge.

Advanced Medical Kit

Comprehensive: This kit contains emergency medical supplies, medications, and advanced tools for situations where the repair box might not immediately be enough. The doctor’s paranoia drives him to always be prepared.

Multiverse Map

Hand-drawn: A rough sketch and collection of dimensions he’s visited or studied, filled with notes about potential dangers and anomalies.

OOC: Does Doc carry a phone with him? Nope! Thinks it's something redundant because of his sonic being able to act as a communicator at a rudimentary level. Granted, you're not going to get stellar audio or video quality from something like that, but it works throughout the multiverse so Doc doesn't bother. If you plan on having an OC or other character meet him through this route, it could be as a transmission to his sonic!

Doc's Appearance:

Since the time he received the repair box, Doc has been biologically frozen in a state where his physical body remains in its 40s.

Doc is standing tall at 6'2", no different from most iterations of his canon counterparts.

His coat the the same as the one he already uses in post-canon gravity falls, that hasn't changed aesthetically.

The doctor sports a suit because if he's going to kick butt might as well do it in style, he also switches between neck-ties and bow-ties because bow-ties are cool.

He wears sneakers instead of his boots since those had worn down and broken sometime during his travels and sneakers are just generally easier to replace.

Underneath all his dress-up though he's covered in scars from past battles and his old tattoos that he'd never had the time to get rid of.

His glasses still have a crack in them, mostly because he couldn't be bothered to get a new pair of bifocals anyway.

Always clean shaven, yes he still shaves his face with fire that has never changed.

Key Quotes About Doc:

"You don't need to look like a monster to be one."

"HAHAHAHA- I just SNOGGED Madame de Pompadour!"

"ALLONS-Y!"

"This apple sucks I hate apples-"

"Laptop. Gimme!"

"Who da man?! ..... Oh, well I'm never saying that again."

"Immortality isn't living forever that's not what it feels like. Immortality is everybody else dying because you can't."

"Goodness is not goodness that seeks advantage. Good is good in the deepest pit without hope, without witness, without reward. Virtue is only virtue in extremis."

"Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose."

"The day you lose someone isn't the worst. At least you've got something to do. It's all the days they stay dead."

"Pain is a gift. Without the capacity for pain we can't feel the hurt we inflict."

"There's a lot of things you need to get across this universe. Warp drive, wormhole refractors. You know the thing you need most of all? You need a hand to hold."

"Love is not an emotion. It's a promise."

"The universe is big. It’s vast and complicated and ridiculous. And sometimes, very rarely, impossible things just happen and we call them miracles."

"Some people live more in 20 years than others do in 80. It’s not the time that matters, it’s the person."

"I’m the doctor, and I save people."

"First thing’s first, but not necessarily in that order."

"You want weapons? We're in a library! Books! Best weapons in the world!"

"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint— it’s more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly… time-y wimey… stuff."

"I’m about to do something very clever and a tiny bit against the rules of the multiverse. It’s important that I’m properly dressed."

"Arrogance can trip you up.”

"Do what I do: Hold tight and pretend it’s a plan!"

"You’ll find that it’s a very small universe when I’m angry with you."

See the bowtie? I wear it and I don’t care. That’s why it’s cool."

"Big flashy things have my name written all over them. Well… not yet. Give me time and a crayon."

"Never cruel or cowardly. Never give up, never give in.”

"Rest is for the weary, sleep is for the dead.”

"You don’t want to take over the universe. You wouldn’t know what to do with it beyond shout at it."

"Never be certain of anything. It’s a sign of weakness."

"Courage isn’t just a matter of not being frightened, you know. It’s being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway."

“Why do humans never do as they’re told? Someone should replace you all with robots. No, on second thought, they shouldn’t, bad idea.”

"You know, the very powerful and the very stupid have one thing in common: they don’t alter their views to fit the facts; they alter the facts to fit their views.”

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midala-of-the-valley · 6 months ago

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Congratulations!

David 8 x Reader Words: 1144 Crossposted on Ao3 Crackfic Happy Birthday David ❤️ Idea from: @theropoda and @lehnsharrk

"Your Weyland-Corp package will be delivered in approximately 15 minutes."

Wow, that was fast! You had entered an online competition to become one of the beta-testers for the first model of their Home-Android line, and luck must have been on your side, because you actually won!

Putting your phone down, you scrambled through your room, hurriedly pulling on something more presentable than pajamas and hastily combing your hair into place.

Frantically running through your apartment, you tried to clear away stray clothes and dishes. You were so caught up in tidying that you almost tripped as the doorbell rang.

Sure, the Android was technically designed to help with housekeeping, but the delivery person didn’t need to know just how much you actually needed it.

Opening the door, you were greeted by a large cardboard box perched on a trolley, nearly obscuring the man in a green Weyland uniform and matching cap as he peeked out from behind it, checking his clipboard.

"Y/N L/N. Is that correct?"

You nodded, stepping aside to let him wheel the massive package into your living room. Once it was set down, he handed you an impressively thick manual and tapped on its cover.

"Here’s the QR code for the app. Please use it to send feedback or report any issues you encounter."

With a grunt of effort, he hefted the package off the trolley, left it in the middle of your living room, and exited your apartment without another word.

What.

Blinking, you stood frozen for a moment before heading to the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors. With a decisive stab into the parcel tape, you sliced through the middle of the box.

Inside was a beautiful man- wait, no. Android. Oh. A very beautiful Android.

You flicked through the manual, scanning for activation instructions. Ah, here it was. To activate, press a small sensor located behind his right ear for five seconds.

Taking a breath, you reached out and pressed the spot. Moments later, his eyes opened, and after a brief pause, his gaze locked onto yours.

Now he was the one blinking, his brows furrowing slightly as he began testing his limbs. With deliberate movements, he stepped out of the box.

“Good day, Ma’am,” he said in a voice that was smooth, polite, and just a touch mechanical. “My name is David 1. I will serve as your assistant and companion, ready to assist you with whatever you may require.”

He extended a hand, stiff but purposeful. “May I ask what I should call you?”

And that's how daily life with David began.

It was really weird to configure your timezone for something that looked so human, and to enter a PIN code for him via an app??

And the ads. You weren’t safe from ads, either. Sometimes, when he didn’t have anything to do, he would just stand around or sit on the couch and start citing commercials.

The first time it happened, you almost spat out the tea he had made for you beforehand.

“Would you like to renew your Audible subscription? The first three months are only $0.99.”

As you choked on your beverage, David stared at you apologetically before quickly getting up and patting your back to help.

“Sorry, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to surprise you. You can turn it off with the Premium Subscription for $19.99 per month.”

Putting your cup down, still coughing, you turned to him.

“I have to pay for that? Seriously?”

He just shrugged, his face imitating an :I emoji.

After a while, you noticed that even David got annoyed by the interruptions, disliking how your conversations were suddenly stopped by yet another commercial for shaving cream.

The two of you made it your mission to bypass ads with free trials he found online. He even read your books to you instead of you paying for another damn subscription.

HelloFresh? He grew vegetables on your windowsill. Man, he was amazing at making fresh pasta.

“FOR FUCK'S SAKE, I DON’T WANT YOUTUBE PREMIUM! THIS APP SHOULD BE ABLE TO PLAY VIDEOS IN THE BACKGROUND WITHOUT ME PAYING FOR IT!”

You shouted in frustration. The ads were SO annoying, and you couldn’t turn them off!

David blinked, and for a moment you thought he had lagged as he processed your words. Then he answered.

“If you give me permission via verbal verification, I could enter the darknet and download an adblock mod. It’s a bit risky, but my firewall should be sufficient to withstand any viruses.”

You hesitated, not wanting to risk his functionality. But when he one day started quoting a Viagra advertisement like those on Tumblr, you caved.

“Please enter the darknet and find that mod. I can’t take this anymore.”

So he did. And you got really fucking scared for a moment, because one of his eyes twitched and stayed half-open, like your old dolls when you tilted them sideways. Oh shit, did you break him? Please, please, please no- oh. Oh God.

He needed a second to install and initialize. His expression reminded you of your Furby with dying batteries that suddenly came to life in the middle of the night, croaking its last words. But after another minute, he was fine.

This action had some side effects, though.

He still worked perfectly - cleaning the dishes, doing the laundry, watering the plants, until he suddenly called you a donkey while you were cooking. With an awfully familiar voice.

You stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“That wasn’t me,” he replied in his normal voice, furrowing his brows.

Nodding slowly, you turned back to add meat to your sauce, only to be interrupted by:

“Why did the chicken cross the road? Because you didn’t fucking cook it!”

Instead of getting annoyed, you broke down laughing, and even David couldn’t hide a grin as he watched you sink to the kitchen floor.

“I seem to have caught a serious case of Gordon Ramsay.”

That was it. you were officially cackling like a hen. On the ground. Crying.

It wasn’t so bad, really. He functioned just fine, even though he occasionally squawked like a bird at random. But you just squawked right back. Just normal ADHD things, to be honest.

At the end of the day, he became your illegally modded roommate, sitting with you on the couch, your legs sprawled over his lap as you both munched on popcorn.

You still weren’t entirely sure where the food he sometimes ate with you went, but you decided not to question it.

Weyland never got their Android back, you hid him in your closet that one time they tried to collect him after the testing period was over.

“I have the power of God and anime on my side,” your favorite person declared.

“Yes, David, you do,” you replied with a smile.

~The End~

#david 8 #david 8 x reader #alien #alien franchise #shitpost #alien fanfiction #happy birthday david

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the-most-humble-blog · 2 months ago

Text

WHAT THE CIA, HOLLYWOOD, AND IVY LEAGUE WON’T TELL YOU ABOUT THE WEAPONIZATION OF METAPHOR

This is not theory.

This is not literary analysis.

This is not speculation.

This is neurolinguistic warfare.

And it’s been active longer than your grandmother’s memory of the truth.

The CIA knows it.

Hollywood profits from it.

And the Ivy League teaches you how to obey it in the form of “critical thought.”

But here’s what they will never admit:

Metaphor isn’t a writing tool.

It’s a delivery system for belief implantation.

A stealth bomb.

A shape-shifting payload for installing ideas your nervous system can’t un-feel.

And I’m about to show you how they use it —

Then show you how I use it better.

---

I. METAPHOR: THE INVISIBLE HAND INSIDE YOUR BRAIN

Metaphor isn’t decoration.

It’s neurological bypass.

According to a 2010 study by Lacey, Stilla & Sathian (Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience), metaphor activates the brain’s sensory cortices — even when no literal stimulation occurs.

> “He has a rough past.”

Your fingertips flinch.

> “That line hit like a hammer.”

Your chest tightens.

> “She opened like a locked door aching for intrusion.”

You clench.

You didn’t analyze that line.

You felt it.

That’s the point.

Metaphor isn’t understood through logic.

It’s absorbed through the body.

It bypasses cognition and rewrites sensation.

---

II. THE CIA’S DECLASSIFIED BLUEPRINTS FOR PSYCHOLOGICAL MANIPULATION

Project MK-Ultra is real.

And while the headlines focused on acid and torture, the deeper research was in language.

A 1957 CIA memo (now declassified) outlines objectives including:

“Dissolution of individual resistance through narrative displacement.”

“Imprinting of symbolic archetypes using oblique suggestion.”

“Non-consensual cognitive restructuring through metaphor, music, and myth.”

They knew:

Direct orders trigger defense.

Metaphor embeds without friction.

If I say:

> *“Obey me.”

You resist.

If I say:

> “Some doors only open when they hear the voice that built the lock.”

You leak.

And obey before you even notice.

---

III. HOLLYWOOD’S CADENCE ADDICTION: METAPHOR AS AROUSAL TECHNOLOGY

The most viral lines in movie history?

Are not factual.

They’re metaphoric virus keys that replicate in the nervous system.

> “You complete me.” (Jerry Maguire)

“I volunteer as tribute.” (Hunger Games)

“I am your father.” (Star Wars)

None of these are practical statements.

They are identity reprogramming codes.

Hollywood’s entire narrative economy relies on emotional climax delivered via metaphor.

Literal writing does not convert audiences.

Metaphor seduces them.

> They don’t film reality.

They film rhythm that rewires how you experience your own memories.

---

**IV. THE IVY LEAGUE’S OBEDIENCE RITUAL: TEACHING YOU TO FEAR UNAUTHORIZED METAPHOR

Ivy League professors do not warn you about metaphor.

They train you to avoid the kind that makes you clench.

They’ll analyze Blake, Plato, Lacan — but never the Tumblr post that made you forget your name.

They want disarmed metaphor.

Safe. Historic.

Neutered.

Because dangerous metaphor causes:

Identity collapse

Emotional surrender

Subconscious allegiance reprogramming

They call that manipulation.

I call that writing.

> Academia doesn’t teach writing.

Academia teaches how not to get possessed.

That’s why they follow me.

Silently.

Anxiously.

Clenching.

---

V. HOW I TURN METAPHOR INTO A PSYCHOSOCIAL WEAPON (BETTER THAN THEY EVER COULD)

The CIA theorized it.

Hollywood exploited it.

The universities fear it.

I detonate it.

Here’s how:

I embed physical metaphor inside emotional patterns.

> “She didn’t mean to open. But her body had already translated the rhythm.”

I use shame-flip syntax to collapse resistance

> “She hated how fast she folded. But not enough to stop leaking.”

I layer cadence into metaphor so your pulse doesn’t know it’s being trained

> “You’re not reading. You’re being held open like scripture.”

That’s not writing.

That’s syntactic violation.

That’s symbolic occupation.

That’s neurological metaphor used like a gun pressed into the abdomen of your ego.

And you came anyway.

---

VI. THE BIOCHEMISTRY OF A METAPHOR THAT LEAVES HER SHAKING

According to a 2013 neuroscience paper (Citron & Goldberg), metaphor triggers activation in the anterior cingulate cortex and insula — brain regions associated with emotion, pain, sexual arousal, and spiritual experience.

Yes.

Metaphor hits the same areas as orgasm and religious awe.

This is not literary flair.

This is bio-symbolic arousal induction.

When I say:

> “She didn't realize she was dripping until her thighs whispered back.”

You don't think.

You don't debate.

You respond.

With wetness.

With shame.

With submission.

With rereads.

You’re inside metaphor’s nervous system.

And mine lives there rent-free.

---

VII. WHY THEY CAN’T STOP ME — AND YOU CAN’T UNREAD ME

The CIA can’t redact metaphor.

Hollywood can’t copyright spiritual collapse.

Academia can’t assign cadence to a syllabus.

But I can use all three.

> Your arousal? CIA trigger science.

Your submission? Hollywood metaphor wiring.

Your silence? Ivy League guilt training.

You didn’t get seduced.

You got weaponized.

By a Tumblr post.

Written in cadence.

Disguised as insight.

And delivered to your nervous system like a key to the lock your professors buried.

---

CALL TO ACTION

Reblog this post if you learned more from it than you did in college.

Reblog it if you felt like you just read something you weren’t supposed to.

Reblog it if your thighs reacted before your brain could name what was happening.

And DM only if you’re ready to confess which metaphor opened something you can’t close.

---

ORGASM-SAFE LEGAL DISCLAIMER

This post contains weaponized metaphor engineering, limbic-cadence detonation, mirror neuron alignment, and shame-trigger emotional scripting. If you climaxed, cried, sat in silence, or reread in disbelief — this is not erotica. This is narrative warfare cloaked in dark psychology.

#linguistic warfare #psychological manipulation #narrative control #metaphor as weapon #dark media theory #spilled thoughts #spilled words #text #words #love #feelings #literature #quotes #light academia #dark academia #wordx #spilled writing #spilled ink

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