#Cellmates/Roommates AU

[becauseplot]

Nightmare of Nightmares

a tiny Roommates/Cellmates AU fic to take a break from writing Prime Meridian and bc im thinking abt them. takes place mmmm definitely within a few months of the events of Shared Living Space. Cell is just starting to become a more-or-less 'common' fixture in Felps' apartment, staying for as long as two days at a time before heading out again. he spends a majority of his time out doing...whatever it is he does when he's not at Felps' apartment. it's not uncommon for Felps to see Cell show up at odd hours with a new bruise or bandage wrapped somewhere, and sometimes Cell walks in with a grin that's just a bit too wide, even for him. Felps tries not to think about it too much.

(TWs: nothing really? there's some vague descriptions of violence that aren't that graphic save for like one well-detailed threat. it's brief tho. and references/allusions to cannibalism because obviously.)

It's the middle of the day on a lazy Sunday, and Cell has been tossing and turning on the couch for the past several minutes. He’s not typically a restless sleeper—quite the opposite, actually—so it’s strange for Felps to see him shifting around, restlessly tilting his head side to side.

Felps figures he must be dreaming, or something like it. What does someone like Cell dream about, anyway? Probably eating Felps, or putting Felps' head on a pike. Or eating Felps and putting his head on a pike. Or just murdering people in general. He must get a real kick out of that. Felps shrugs it off and continues working, reclined in the armchair and sorting through his email. Whatever Cell is dreaming about will pass eventually.

And then he whines.

Felps pauses and blinks for several seconds, processing that yes, there was a noise, yes, it was a whine, and yes it most certainly came from Cell. Felps glances up from his laptop again to look at the known murderer sleeping his couch. He's still shifting around, perhaps a little more animatedly than before. He settles for a moment, and Felps can see his eyelids twitching. Another half-whine, half-groan wheedles out of his throat. His lips move, barely parted, but whatever Cell might've said is much too soft for Felps to hear, if he said anything at all.

A few seconds pass. Then, Cell's face briefly twists, his lips moving again; and though it's still hard to decipher, Felps isn't certain that it's actual words that he's speaking. His chest heaves a few times, he makes another small noise, and he murmurs something again—no. Those...sound like they could be words. Garbled, but words nonetheless. Not Portuguese, though. It might be another language. (Cell speaks some English, doesn't he?) Or maybe it is just gibberish, Felps really can't tell; but whatever it is, it sounds urgent. Very urgent. And Cell is starting to breathe harder.

Huh. Felps starts to consider trying to wake him up before he shoots that thought down immediately. Why even bother? And he knows for a fact that Cell sleeps with a weapon under his arm—Felps can see it now, a small blade revealed in all of his tossing—and Felps doesn't want to wind up on the wrong end of it if Cell wakes up swinging.

Still, Felps' email has become an afterthought at this point. Felps watches, almost amazed, as Cell continues to toss more violently than before, breathing harder to the point of gasping, voice high and reaching and cracking and begging—

A shout. Cell's eyes fly open as he shoots up and yep there goes the knife arcing through open air. He's got a hand braced on the side of the couch as he bares his teeth at some middle distance, panting like he's just sprinted several miles. There's a thin sheen of sweat clinging to his face. Cell is sporting a furious expression so tense and wild that Felps—if he didn't know any better—would say pitches over to the other end of the curve and lands somewhere in the realm of terrified.

Cell, the murderer, the cannibal, the nightmare of so many people's dreams, just woke up screaming from a nightmare. It's almost novel, but Felps supposes that Cell is still just a human. And humans, people, get nightmares. Basic psychology. Though, it's hard to imagine Cell to be really, truly afraid of anything in particular aside from, possibly, getting caught by the police and being hauled back to Alcatraz. (Once in Alcatraz, he would end up spending quite the stint in solitary—one of the only things they found that could actually get Cell to behave, if only for a little while.)

A beat passes. Cell's eyes dart frantically, but it doesn't look like he's really seeing anything. He's still gasping. His legs have kicked away the towel Felps makes him put his feet on when he's sleeping, instead digging the heels of his boots into the cushions and pushing himself back against the arm of the couch, knife still in hand.

Felps hasn't exactly woken up fighting before, but he's had his fair share of nightmares. He knows how disorienting they can be. Best not to have the guy with the weapon and the horribly violent impulses forget where he is. Felps clears his throat. "Hey Cell."

Cell snaps his head towards Felps. He blinks several times. He stars at Felps, and he looks around the room...

...And his breathing starts to slow. And his shoulders start to slump. And the fury-terror starts to melt away. And the hand brandishing his knife drops into his lap.

And Cell is quiet. No threats, no growl. He just stares at the floor and drags a hand down his sweat-soaked face and breathes—something like relief. It's eerie, coming from Cell, and Felps, frankly, doesn't know what to make of it.

"So," Felps says. "The Monster of Alcatraz gets nightmares, huh?"

A beat. Then, Cell scoffs at him. "Inspiration," he snarls, voice dripping with venom despite his breathlessness and sleepy croak. "For when I carve out your guts and drag your entrails across the floor, Felps."

Felps raises an eyebrow. "You know, you could just tell me you want to be left alone."

"Fuck off."

"See, there we go." Felps closes his laptop and glances at the clock on the wall: just past twelve. "Eh, actually, before I do that—are you planning on staying for lunch?"

Cell makes a vague noise. He runs his free hand through his messy hair and scrubs one of his eyes with the heel of his palm. He sighs heavily, like a half-aborted yawn.

"...Yeah," he eventually decides.

"Did you bring me anything?"

Felps knows he did. Felps won't make him anything if he doesn't pitch in somehow—one of their new 'rules'—and Cell's backpack is looking a little more full than usual. In lieu of an answer, Cell picks up his bag from where it's slumped against the foot of couch and drags it into his lap, rummaging through it. Felps, meanwhile, stands, dumps his laptop on the armchair, stretches, and grabs the TV remote. A moment later, Cell produces a small paper bag and holds it out to Felps.

Felps crosses the living room and peeks inside: tomatoes and lettuce, in decent enough condition. Felps has certainly used worse. He could add in some of his carrots, chop them up, put some dressing over it and make it a salad. Rice and some seasoned meat (chicken—no red meat allowed when Cell is present) to go with it could be nice.

"This works." Felps grabs the bag. Cell lets him have it, and Felps tosses him the remote. "Your pick. And either fix the towel or boots off the couch."

Cell huffs, but he swings his legs around without protest, boots on the floor. As he flicks through channels, Felps brings the produce into the kitchen and opens up the fridge. He pushes aside his own tomatoes and lettuce to get to the carrots.

Sometime later, Felps finishes putting together lunch and brings a couple plates into the living room. There, he finds Cell curled up on his side, fast asleep yet again—no tossing or turning this time, though. Just sleeping.

Felps rolls his eyes with a sigh. He puts the extra portion down on the coffee table, lowers the volume on the TV just a bit, heads back into the kitchen, and returns with a cover for the plate.

(A nightmare having a nightmare. What could Cell be so scared of?)

(Well, whatever it is, Felps hopes he never has to meet it.)

[imposterogers]

in these trying times (luis not being in antman 3) I would like to take this moment to remind everyone that luis wasn’t just scott’s best friend, he was also a love interest. he was scotty’s best bro/cellmate, picked him up from prison & couldn’t stop smiling, stood by his side for years, started a business w him, & developed a close relationship with cassie. he said “I love it when he gets cocky” about scott and called himself daddy (”daddy don’t get scared”) to scott. they were literally in a domestic au as roommates for two years in a charming victorian in san fran, and the worst thing luis could say about scott under truth serum is that he didn’t like how he did the dishes. I will not let marvel erase the fact that they are cellmates to soulmates !!! 

[ilikereadingthisiswhatilike]

Vi

(X) = Smut

Your welcome cupcake. @purplegrapevines Summary: You are enemies who in fall love. Warnings: None Special Tags: None

Nightmare @the-faceless-bride Summary: Vi has a nightmare, but she also has you to calm her down. Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping Special Tags: None

Kiss the girl in black @sunricecake Summary: what was supposed to be a fun memory of your first tattoo session with your lover turned out to be unforgettable for all the wrong reasons. Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Sexual Tension. Specials Tags: None

Bottoms Up @sleepyangelkami Summary: vampire!reader hasn't been able to drink blood in what felt like forever. luckily for her, vi's there with open arms and an outstretched wrist. Warnings: None Special Tag: Fluff

Personal Trainer @angelltheninth Summary: Vi is your personal trainer Warnings: None Special Tag: Fluff

Sisters @lolita-lollipop Summary: You are the baby of the family and most affected by Vi leaving. Warnings: Family Issues, Mental Health Issues Special Tag: None

Run away @pathetic-sapphic Summary: You run away Warnings: None Special Tags: Head con

Toxic @pathetic-sapphic Summary: You see how toxic they can be. Warnings: None Special Tags: Head con

Good girl @purplegrapevines (X) Summary: Your fresh meat. Warnings: None Special Tags: Cellmate AU

Bottom @viismyworld (X) Summary: Vi riding Reader's thigh let's go Warnings: None Special Tags: None

Can't talk any more. @purplegrapevines (X) Summary: Vi fucks you so hard you forget how to talk. Warnings: None Special Tags: None

She all you need right? @purplegrapevines (X) Summary: Dating Vi is hard. You love each other more than anything, but her brutal past makes her overprotective of you Warnings: Toxic Special Tags: Bondage

Roommate @pixievi (X) Summary: You are in love with your roommate and she in love with you. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Solo, Ear drooping

Lock Jaw @genacity (X) Summary: after coming home from a long day of work, your darling girlfriend vi surprises you with some gourmet chocolate. a sweet affection laced with something she thinks she’ll get away with, little does she know that you know her all too well. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Sub Vi

lingerie @pathetic-sapphic (X) Summary: You wear lingerie Warnings: None Special Tags: Lingerie, Head con

Could Be a Better Boyfriend Than Him @ceruleanangel Summary: Vi feels a little jealous after one of your performances and decides to show you what's her's Warnings: None Special Tag: None

The Diamond of Zaun @ceruleanangel Summary: During your performance you see a ghost in the crowed. Warnings: None Special Tag: Mutil Part, Performer AU

[ichorai]

kpop masterlist.

welcome to my kpop masterlist ! thank you for stopping by to read my works <3 i am no longer writing for kpop.

about. main masterlist. ficrecs at @ichorkurt.

♚ ; reader’s favorite ♛ ; personal favorite

ateez.

ೃ⁀➷ kim hongjoong.

duck curtains fluff + angst + f2l ; roommates au + 2.8k ↳ the shower wasn't really the best place to hold conversations, but the both of you did it anyways.

florentis urban fantasy + fluff ; roommates au + powers au ; 0.7k ↳ you find yourself getting a little too immersed in your book.

ೃ⁀➷ park seonghwa.

candlelit angst + fluff + slice of life ; roommates au ; 1.3k ↳ with the silenced lights came the flickering of your relationship with your roommate.

frozen hearts, flaming arrows fantasy + drama ; powers au ; 7.3k ↳ two enemy clans. one icer healer, one flamer soldier, one brewing war. love was never meant to be a part of this. but then again, when is love ever supposed to be a part of anything?

the painter’s ghost fantasy ; ghost au ; 0.8k ↳ an exploring ghost comes across a painter just outside the forest.

ೃ⁀➷ jung yunho.

the golden daggers action + angst ; royalty au ; 1.7k ↳ your kingdom is destroyed, and you come across a soldier from the enemy realm in the forest.

♛ goldstorm and bug boy! action + comedy + angst + fluff ; superhero au + marvel au + spiderman au ; ongoing series ; 12.2k ↳ a collection of timestamps in the lives of spiderman and goldstorm.

green sofa fluff + f2l ; hogwarts au ; 1k ↳ your time in hogwarts is almost over and you're wondering what life with yunho will be like afterwards.

whittled by stars fantasy + angst ; reincarnation au + soulmates au ; 1.2k ↳ you watched him die yesterday. what was he doing following you now?

ೃ⁀➷ kang yeosang.

to poison a vampire fantasy + angst + fluff ; vampire au + elf au + established relationship au ; 2.4k ↳ the vampire comes to the elf he’s in love with for help.

ೃ⁀➷ choi san.

ghostly moon, soulless sun angst ; ghost au ; 1k ↳ the moon is but a ghost in comparison to the sun.

mint and minecraft angst + fluff ; soulmates au + neighbors au ; 3.6k ↳ your soulmate moves in with the neighbor you have a crush on.

purpling trapeze angst + fluff ; circus au + trapeze artist au ; 2.5k ↳ you were a flurry of purple in the air, and that just so happened to be san's favorite color.

ೃ⁀➷ song mingi.

boxed in angst + pining ; boxer au + doctor au ; 0.7k ↳ where mingi grows increasingly concerned for your health.

copped out angst + fluff ; superhero au + exes au + cop au ; 2.7k  ↳ injured with nowhere else to go, mingi finds himself at his ex's doorstep.

ೃ⁀➷ jung wooyoung.

cellmates fantasy + action + angst + slowburn ; medieval au + magic au ; series ; 26.8k ↳ stuck in jail after stealing a necklace off the princess, what happens when your new cellmate with an impossible escape plan comes along?

the lovers and the lost fantasy + fluff + angst + slowburn + lovers to strangers ; disney gone wrong au + waitress au + musician au ; 14.4k ↳ just because you had your happy ending, doesn’t mean everybody else did. that was made abundantly clear when a mysterious woman walked into your and wooyoung’s restaurant.

supervillains and unicorn bags fantasy + comedy + action ; villain au + scientist au ; 1.8k ↳ concocting superhuman serums late at night was your job. dealing with an obnoxiously sparkly villain, however, was most definitely not.

bts.

ೃ⁀➷ kim namjoon.

the magic of trust fantasy + fluff ; mage au ; 0.9k ↳ in which namjoon fixes you.

ೃ⁀➷ kim seokjin.

sin to win fantasy + action ; angel au + demon au + boxer au ; 1.4k ↳ an angel and a demon are forced to put aside their differences to help out the same human.

ೃ⁀➷ min yoongi.

illusionism action + drama ; vigilante au + villain au ; 1.9k  ↳ yoongi hasn't seen you in months. not since he forced you to flee from the city to keep you safe. when you come back with a thirst for his most dangerous secret, yoongi can't help but surrender to your illusions.

mr. sad piano man fluff ; victorian au ; 1.4k ↳ yoongi tries to teach you how to play piano because he loves you.

ೃ⁀➷ kim taehyung.

ballroom of ghosts action ; royalty au + enemies au ; 0.8k ↳ the crown jewel belonged to your kingdom, but taehyung seemed to think otherwise.

bloody blue angst ; royalty au + artist au + muse au ; 1k ↳ in which you can’t stay still for taehyung’s painting and you’re afraid you’ve been dancing for far too long.

galvano  marvel au + superhero au + winter soldier au + 40s au + assassin au + alien au ; scifi + action + romance + angst + fluff + slowburn + drama + hurt comfort ; 115.4k ↳ a series that follows the hero galvano through the events of the mcu!

♛ of mages and swords fantasy + action + slowburn + angst ; royalty au + excalibur au ; 40.0k ↳ taehyung grew up in a brothel with not a single coin to his name. and so, it was safe to say that it shocked just about everyone when he pulled the infamous sword out of the stone, announcing his title as the ‘true born king’ to the whole nation. taehyung’s world was flipped upside down when he was thrown into a grand shitstorm of power-thirsty uncles, cave-dwelling rebels, and a mage that, despite all the odds, he managed to fall in love with.

ೃ⁀➷ jeon jungkook.

bambi eyes fluff ; hogwarts au ; 0.9k ↳ he was supposed to be taking pictures, and you were supposed to be practicing. apparently neither of you could get your jobs done right.

pearls and pastries angst + fluff + pining + action ; pirate au + baker au + medieval au ; 3.6k ↳ a crew of pirates have been pilfering your village for several weeks now and one particularly keen buccaneer has stopped by your bakery practically every visit; whether it be for the delectable pastries or for the sweet baker he’s taken an interest to, jungkook couldn’t say. but there’s a catch - the baker doesn’t know that he’s a pirate.

♚ rivers over stones angst + fluff + slowburn + enemies to lovers ; godparents au + baker au + cameraman au ; 37.6k ↳ you hated jungkook the minute you laid eyes on him. the only reason why he was still in your life was because you both shared a goddaughter, hana. but everything changed unexpectedly when the two of you become her caretakers and you’re forced to live under the same roof. suddenly, you find yourself hating him just a bit less. or more, but who’s keeping track?

nct.

ೃ⁀➷ lee jeno.

color me true angst + fantasy + fluff ; movie director au + fictional character au ; 10.4k ↳ a young director falls in love with a fictional movie character.

red velvet.

ೃ⁀➷ kim yeri.

♛ the devil’s queen fantasy + fluff + angst + ; royalty au + devil au + magic au + forbidden love au ; 4.2k ↳ the queen of the forest seeks out the devil’s help after accidentally turning her husband to stone.

[wsdalt]

hihi! thanks so much for the kind words on my cellmates/roommates au, it really made my day ^-^ forgot how much i missed these little guys and their oh-so-normal living arrangement. hope you have a good day/afternoon/night!! <3

responding to this very late because i wanted to use my laptop oops. but yes they're so so interesting… the fact they were clearly friends after fuga and before qsmp is so fascinating to me \o/!! we went in different sort of directions with our interpretations of it but we also have different first meeting points which changes a lot pfft

but yes i love the way you've written them \o/!!! felps trying to negotiate with a serial killer cannibal who's almost killed him before + cell(bit) learning the value of friendship lol. i really like how it culminates in the scene of felps insisting he'd never ask cellbit to kill for him (despite previous hypothetical questions) and then the bit in brackets where cellbit trusts him to stick to that but only because felps wouldn't have to ask

[rabbit-harpist]

pokes my head into your ask box hey bestie, wrote a new little blurb for the world's-worst-roommates-of-all-time AU :] exists on my tumblr under the 'Roommates/Cellmates AU' tag (or the 'my fics' tag) if you're interested! titled Nightmare of Nightmares. no pressure to look at it (/gen) but i thought i'd let you know since you seem to like the series and im not confident that i'm going to post it to ao3 so it will just get swallowed by my blog. ok i'll leave ya be byeeee!! o/

(one of these days i will probably write felps and cell working through one of those fabled Social Interactions(TM) but ive gotta work up the courage to muscle through the horrific second hand embarrassment that's sure to come with writing it lmfaoooo)

oo! sending this ask was probably good because this was my day to not check tumblr (over now, i’m proud of myself) and it might well have been buried lol. i am Invested in this series and i’ll definitely check it out!

[bowiebond]

If Eddie gets imprisoned for Chrissy’s deaths at the end of S4 istg I want a scene in S5 where Steve visits him and it’s acknowledged that he does this /weekly/ or at least often and they’re best friends now *cough* with repressed feelings *cough*

I also want all the steddie prison au fics where they find a blossoming love as cellmates (oh my god they were roommates) and Eddie is this big scary softie and Steve (the Punching Bag to others prisoners) is the only one who’s actually committed arson and/or murder between the pair because he’s a good guy but he’s slightly unhinged due to the stress of five children 😂

[mollymawkwrites]

Written for @whataboutthebard day 7

Title: Lost in the Steam

Prompt: power play

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: prison AU, modern fantasy setting, voyeurism, semi public sex, daddy kink, attempted sexual assault (not between main pairing), under negotiated kink, blow job

“It’s your lucky day,” the guard snickered, pushing Jaskier along the pale yellow prison corridor. “You have one roommate instead of three. That’s a luxury here, princess.”

Jaskier cringed at the nickname, but kept walking. All he knew about jail was what he’d seen in movies; he’d never even thought he’d end up there, but one thing he was sure about: he couldn’t show any weakness.

The two guards escorting him stopped in front of a door similar to all the others they’d just passed, constantly open during the day. The light was off in the cell, making it hard to see anything other than the two rickety cots pushed against opposite walls and the large, hulking shadow sprawled on one of them.

“Hey, White Wolf! Here’s your new chew toy. Try to make this one last for a while, we’re running out of them real fast,” the obnoxious guard laughed. Then, turning to Jaskier with a mean glint in his eye, “If you make it to tomorrow, you can go see the counselor in the morning to get a job. The kitchens are looking for someone to replace the last guy who slept in that bed,” he said with a tilt of his chin indicating the bare cot on the left side of the room.

The second guard barked a laugh and they turned heels, leaving Jaskier to glare daggers at the back of their sweaty necks. Anxiety churning in his gut, he stepped further into the cell, narrowing his eyes to try and get used to the change in lighting. The shape on the right bed didn’t move an inch, patient like an ambushed wolf waiting for its prey.

His gaze traveled over the still form, wondering if his new cellmate was asleep, until he met two irises of molten gold. The pupils were slit, and as his eyes got used to the darkness, Jaskier glimpsed strands of silver hair splayed over a stained pillow and the bulge of a heavily tattooed bicep peeking from the ugly prison uniform’s sleeve.

A chill traveled down Jaskier’s spine when he recognised the features unique to Witchers and an alarm in the back of his brain yelled “predator! Danger!”. Absurdly, he was reminded of a documentary he’d watched about wolves and how they asserted dominance through their eyes. Despite every bone in his body screaming for him to give up and show his belly, Jaskier refused to submit to the first person who thought they could intimidate him. No matter that he’d been thrown into the cell of what looked to be the most dangerous person in Posada County prison, Jaskier wouldn’t face his death with his eyes on the ground and his tail tucked between his legs.

He plastered a smile on his face and breathed through his nose, wishing his voice not to quiver as he introduced himself. “Hi, Mr. White Wolf, sir. Hum, my name is Jaskier, pleased to meet you.” He didn’t quite muster the courage to step forward for a handshake, and instead settled for an awkward wave.

No answer came from the man, though his eyes followed Jaskier like a hawk as he moved to the free cot, giving a wide berth to the other, and started pulling the sheets he’d been given at his arrival over the thin mattress. The hair at the nape of his neck rose as he turned his back on his cellmate, but he refused to look over his shoulder until his bed was made and he sat on the edge gingerly.

“I’d ask for your name, but I have a hunch you won’t tell me,” he spoke up again, keeping his tone light. “That’s alright, White Wolf suits you pretty well. Is that your natural hair colour? I imagine prison is not the best place to keep up a regular haircare routine, but I must say it’s absolutely flawless.”

If there was a way for a look to spell “murder”, Jaskier was pretty sure his burly cellmate had mastered it. A bead of sweat tickled his temple, but he ignored it. “So, are there any rules here? I’ve had roommates before, and let me tell you, things did not go well until we set personal boundaries. I just want to make sure we start on the right foot, you know?”

“No talking,” came his answer in a gravelly voice, and Jaskier gulped audibly at the danger simmering under those words. Instead of hiding under his creaky bed like every of his self-preservation instincts was screaming at him to do, he smiled even wider and kept his eyes locked with the White Wolf’s.

“Well, compromise is key in every relationship. I’ll let you go back to your little nap in peace if you promise not to kill me in my sleep.”

“I could just kill you now and go back to my nap after.”

Jaskier held back the pitiful whimper that tried to claw its way up his throat. “I prefer my option.”

The man huffed and shifted on his bed. Jaskier’s muscles tensed, ready to spring into the sprint of his life if the Witcher attacked him, but his cellmate only turned his back on him, facing the bare wall of their cell in a clear dismissal.

All the air left Jaskier’s lungs in a rush and he flopped back on his own cot, boneless with relief.

There were a lot of things Jaskier was dreading about his time in jail, but he’d come out of his first confrontation with the White Wolf unscathed. He could do this.

*

Walking between the full tables of the refectory with his head held high and his tray of greasy food was harder than standing at his own trial waiting for the judge’s decision. It reminded Jaskier of high school, of the anxiety of eating alone and the paranoia of having every pair of eyes in the room locked on him.

Only this time it wasn’t paranoia.

Whispers and leers accompanied his walk down the central row, and he would have loved for it to be judgemental teenagers gossiping about his clothing choices rather than convicted criminals watching for a weakness, planning how and when they would descend on him to give him his first taste of prison violence.

Jaskier knew what he looked like, here in that prison hall, wearing a too-large prison uniform and scanning the room for a spot to sit: a fucking prey for all the deranged, frustrated men in there looking for fresh blood. If he was lucky, he’d get a few beatings and then they’d leave him alone when he’d stop fighting, or when another defenseless thing would catch their attention.

It wasn’t luck that had landed him in prison in the first place.

He needed to be smart, to plan ahead, to play with his strengths. He couldn’t hold his own in a fight, that at least he knew. He couldn’t very well serenade the entire prison into being nice with him either, though that would have been helpful. That left him with his two other assets: a great ass and the power to talk people into liking him out of sheer determination.

As his eyes fell onto a lonely figure at the far-end table, a plan took form in his mind.

Strutting with more confidence than he possessed, Jaskier slid his tray over the table, empty except for the White Wolf. In the bright light of the refectory’s neons, Jaskier could see just how big the Witcher really was, the muscles of his broad shoulders rippling with every movement, the fabric of his uniform’s sleeves taut over his arms thick as tree trunks. Tattoos followed the line of his throat down to his chest where they disappeared under his grey undershirt, reappearing on his forearms and dancing on the back of his large hands. His silver hair was untied, hiding his face on one side as he tucked in his food with single-minded focus.

At the clatter of Jaskier’s tray, he raised his eyes, boring into Jaskier’s just as intensely as he had in their cell that morning, revealing thick, defined eyebrows and a sharp jaw that had Jaskier’s mouth watering more than any of the food on his plate.

Swallowing back a curse at the realisation that his — very scary, very dangerous — cellmate was so godsdamned attractive, Jaskier sat beside the man with a cheeky smile. “I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.”

His only answer was a long suffering groan as the White Wolf hung his head between his shoulders.

“Such an enthusiastic welcome! I knew right away we were going to become the best of friends,” Jaskier punctuated his sentence with a good-natured bump to the man’s shoulder, heart beating loudly enough to drown the confused whispers around them.

The White Wolf shot him a seething look, and Jaskier was sure he’s crossed the limit then, that was it, he was going to be thrown at the wall and it would be the end of Julian Alfred Pankratz, disgraced heir of the Lettenhove family… but the Witcher gave a quick look at the surrounding tables, the men no doubt staring at them trying to understand what exactly was going on between the White Wolf and his new young, pretty cellmate, before turning back to his meal with a dismissive grunt.

Jaskier resisted closing his eyes in relief and tucked in his own food, whispering a “thank you” as he raised the fork to his mouth. The White Wolf didn’t give any indication that he’d heard, but he didn’t shake Jaskier from where he was basically plastered to his side either.

They ate in silence, Jaskier subtly gauging the reactions to his little act as he drank his water. Most of the inmates had returned to their own meals and conversations, but some of them were still eyeing him with nasty glints, one toothless dwarf even grinning at him as he performed a very descriptive gesture with his hands. Cheeks flaming, Jaskier lowered his gaze to his tray again, and noticed Geralt had risen from his bench, plate cleared of the soggy vegetables and grey cardboard pretending to be meat that had consisted in their lunch.

“Where are you going?” Jaskier asked, rushing to finish his portion as he stood up to follow.

“Library,” the White Wolf rumbled, surprising Jaskier. He hadn’t expected an answer, fully ready to be Geralt’s shadow for the foreseeable future — or at least until the man would tire of him —. “You can come if you don’t talk.”

“Oh, dear White Wolf, I think we both know that’s highly unlikely,” Jaskier grinned, hope spreading in his chest.

*

Despite what his mother and most of his teachers used to say, Jaskier did know how to stay silent. That afternoon, he put that skill into practice, eager to show his cellmate and new protector that he could be good company.

After an hour or so of thumbing the pages of a book on music therapy while across the table the White Wolf was focused on a thick novel written in a very small font, Jaskier found his eyes drifting closed against his will, the greasy, tasteless food they’d had for lunch weighing down on his stomach, making him drowsy.

He dozed for a bit, lulled by the quiet of the library and the presence of a big, scary man reading by his side.

An hour later he woke with a start, a crick in his neck and drool drying at the corner of his lips. Bleary and confused, he looked around, cursing himself for falling asleep where anyone could have seen him and taken him by surprise. His eyes fell on his cellmate, who was still sitting on the same chair, having made visible progress through his book, his eternal frown marked deep between his brows.

Jaskier tried not to show his surprise at seeing him still here when the man looked up from his book and hummed, rising from his chair and rasping, “Hurry up. I want to go back to the cell before supper,” with an expectant look.

A stone dropped in Jaskier’s stomach at the words. He had been surprised that the White Wolf accepted so readily to let Jaskier follow him like a duckling, and then that he had waited for him to finish his improvised nap instead of leaving him there, at the mercy of any ill-intentioned inmate, but Jaskier had overlooked the obvious explanation: the Witcher wanted something from him. Nothing was free in this world, Jaskier had learned that the hard way, and this was even truer in prison.

There were few things Jaskier could give the White Wolf in return for his troubles.

He had his idea on what it would be.

It wasn’t too bad, he guessed. He’d known he would have to do unpleasant things for his own survival there. He would rather give use of his body to a man willing — and able — to protect him from others, and the Witcher was far from ugly, once one saw past the strangeness of his eyes and the murderous glares. In another context, Jaskier would have happily spent the night in his bed.

With a steadying breath, he nodded and trailed behind the White Wolf back to their cell, trying to keep at bay the mental images of what was going to happen to him. Given how the guards had mocked Jaskier’s chances that morning, it probably wasn’t going to be pleasant.

Throat tight, he stood awkwardly in the narrow space between their cots as his cellmate went to sit on his, opening the drawer of his bedside table and rummaging through it. Jaskier sent a prayer to any god listening that he had lube and condoms, though he doubted any of that was allowed on the prison grounds.

What the White Wolf dug out of his personal possessions instead was a bundle of paper and a roughly sharpened pencil, as well as a crumpled magazine about… horses?

The man reclined against the wall, punching his flat, uncomfortable pillow into a makeshift backrest, and didn’t spare a glance for Jaskier before hunching over his own lap and scribbling on the paper.

At a loss of what to do, Jaskier cleared his throat once, then a second time before the Witcher finally acknowledged him, looking up with an exasperated sigh.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing a letter to my daughter.”

Mouth gaping as he tried to put those words into something that made sense, Jaskier could only answer with a weak, “Oh.”

“Hm.” The White Wolf lowered his gaze to his letter again.

“But…” Jaskier added before his brain could reboot itself entirely. “… aren’t you going to fuck me?”

Without even stopping his writing, the White Wolf rumbled, “No.”

“… Oh.” Jaskier plopped down on his bed, as if his strings had been cut off, the receding fear and adrenaline leaving him exhausted. He tipped on his side, regretting it when his head hit the hard mattress painfully.

“What are you writing to her?” He asked after an indefinite amount of time spent trying to wrap his head around the intimidating White Wolf writing to his daughter. And not wanting to fuck him.

“I’m telling her about the new rat in my cell.”

Jaskier sprang back upward with a squeak. “We have a rat?”

His golden eyes twinkling in a mesmerising way, the White Wolf looked at Jaskier and deadpanned, “Yeah. A big, hairy, noisy one.”

Deflating, Jaskier scrunched his face. “Oh ha ha. Lucky me, to have a cellmate with such a sense of humour.”

The man made a noncommittal noise as he kept scribbling on the shitty paper, unbothered. It took Jaskier a great deal of strength not to speak up again, but after a few minutes he couldn’t contain his curiosity anymore. “What’s her name?”

The most incredible thing happened then. His expression softening, the White Wolf looked up and, though he wasn’t smiling, Jaskier couldn’t not notice the affection and love held in these golden eyes.

“Ciri. She’s fourteen. I adopted her three years ago.”

Just like that, Jaskier was given his first peek at the man behind the White Wolf.

His cellmate talked about his adoptive daughter without much prompting, tenderness clear in every word as he related her fencing lessons and the time she punched a kid in the face for trying to see under the skirt of one of her friends.

Reconciling this loving dad with the scary brute everyone seemed to see when looking at his cellmate was hard. The nerves that had been knotting his stomach before they’d come back to their cell had vanished completely by the time Geralt — as he introduced himself eventually — pulled out of his pocket the picture of a blonde-haired girl with green eyes as intense as her dad’s smiling at the camera as she petted a grumpy looking bay horse. Asking about the animal provoked Geralt into another enthusiastic monologue Jaskier was only too happy to listen to, his anxiety pushed back to the darkest corners of his mind by shiny warm golden eyes.

Their conversation lasted until supper and they made their way to the refectory together, Geralt assuming his bleak and intimidating White Wolf attitude once again. As they sat down to eat, Jaskier glimpsed the delicate swallow tattooed on the side of Geralt’s neck, which his cellmate had explained represented his daughter. Jaskier smiled secretly as he thought that, if anyone else in this prison knew Geralt like he did, they probably wouldn’t be much scared anymore.

*

The sun had barely risen when Jaskier startled awake to the loud clang of the heavy cell door opening the next morning. Blinking his eyes in the harsh light of the neons, he squinted at Geralt, who was already up, getting dressed.

“W’re you going?” Jaskier slurred, voice rough from sleep.

“The gym. You can stay here, I’ll come pick you up for the shower.”

The offer was tempting; Jaskier contemplated staying in bed a little longer, but he needed to make sure everyone knew he was under the White Wolf’s protection. That meant staying with Geralt until he was sure no one would try and get to him.

With a groan and a worrying popping noise coming from his spine, Jaskier rose from his cot and waved at Geralt when the man looked at him with a slightly amused expression. “I’ll come, it’ll be good for me. Lift some weights, do, huh, squats… and stuff.”

His plan of sitting on the sides and watching Geralt work out went to hell as soon as they stepped into the gym and Geralt roped him into a stretching routine that had Jaskier sore and red-faced after the first sequence. Thankfully, Geralt left him alone after that, offering Jaskier to help him spot his weight lifting and keep track of his reps. Jaskier took his role very seriously, hovering as close to Geralt as possible without hindering his movements, keeping an eye on the rest of the room.

Looking away from Geralt became harder as his workout went on, though, the muscles of his glorious shoulders rippling, sweat running down his chest, droplets catching on the patch of dark grey hair there. Jaskier caught himself licking his lips more than once, and he had to focus on the gym floor’s unidentifiable stains to keep his very interested dick in check.

When Geralt finished his thorough and intense workout, they headed to the showers together, Jaskier sighing gratefully when he discovered that each shower unit was separated by a small partition. He wasn’t totally certain he could have survived showering next to Geralt’s very naked, very mouth-watering body. Not looking at him as they disrobed side by side before they each stepped into their respective shower stalls already proved a challenge.

Jaskier closed his eyes in relief as the tepid water washed over him. He would have happily wanked to shed the remnants of arousal and frustration along with the sweat, but he wasn’t that comfortable, knowing Geralt and a half dozen other inmates were in the same steam-filled room.

Instead he pressed the soap dispenser, grimacing at the smell — this was going to be a disaster on his skin for sure — and scrubbing it into his scalp.

He was almost finished with his ablutions, still massaging a stubborn knot in his shoulder, when a shadow fell over him and his gut clenched in fear. His first instinct was to freeze, which was the wrong thing to do, apparently, as the man behind him took it as an invitation to grab his ass forcefully.

“So no one has destroyed this sweet pussy yet, huh? Maybe the White Wolf needs help with it, if he’s still standing on his legs!”

Crude laughs and hollers echoed behind him and Jaskier whirled around to push at the man to get his dirty hands off of him, but before he could do more than glimpse at his aggressor’s face — and Jaskier would have bet there was troll blood somewhere in his family line — an arm shot from the stall beside his, grabbing the man’s thick neck and slamming him against the opposite wall.

Standing in all his dripping, naked glory, Geralt was snarling so close to the man’s face Jaskier thought he would simply bite it off. He might have had, if Jaskier hadn’t noticed the guard making his way towards them with a hand on his baton. Acting on instinct, Jaskier inserted himself between Geralt and the whimpering asshole — Jaskier was pretty sure he’d pissed himself in the scuffle — putting his hands on Geralt’s chest and pushing gently.

“Come on, it’s not worth it,” he whispered, trying to make eye contact, but Geralt wouldn’t stop growling, sharp teeth bared. Jaskier didn’t think twice before adding, “please, Daddy.”

That jolted Geralt right out of his fury, his golden eyes meeting Jaskier’s with a startled expression.

“I’ll rub your back, I’ll make it good, please,” Jaskier put a whine in his voice, pleading with his eyes for Geralt to understand, to go along with this harebrained plan.

Geralt’s expression went from confused to understanding and slipped back into his mask of impassibility just as the guard pushed past the cluster of naked men watching avidly, eager for a fight. Letting go of Troll Face’s throat, Geralt turned back without a word and stepped into his shower, dismissing the entire incident.

There was a minute during which Jaskier feared the guard wouldn’t let it go so easily, but the man looked at Geralt’s back with an hesitant expression before shrugging and ushering the small crowd away. Jaskier breathed out, heart hammering in his chest.

“What are you waiting for then, bird?” Geralt rumbled, pulling Jaskier’s attention to his broad back, shoulders almost touching each parting wall of his shower stall.

Jaskier’s jaw did not drop to the floor at the pet name, but it was a close thing, and he had to shake himself before stepping closer to the man, hovering around his back hesitantly. Geralt did not give him any indication, standing under the shower head facing the wall, unmoving.

Taking a deep breath, Jaskier scooted closer to push at the soap dispenser and started washing Geralt’s back, his hands gliding over the tattooed expanse of skin.

The room was eerily quiet, though Jaskier knew they weren’t alone in there. He scanned the surrounding occupied stalls, as well as the row of sinks where men were brushing their teeth or shaving.

All of them had their eyes on Geralt and Jaskier, calculating, observing, and a chill ran down Jaskier’s spine. They were being evaluated, and if their act wasn’t good enough, he knew there would be grim consequences for him.

Thinking quickly, Jaskier slid between Geralt’s right side and the partition wall, fitting himself at Geralt’s front, where he was protected by the man’s bulk, mostly hidden from sight. He verified that they were still being observed before sliding his hands over Geralt’s chest, rubbing suds of soap in the coarse hair.

“Don’t push your luck, kid,” Geralt growled in a low voice, only for Jaskier’s ears.

Jaskier offered him a shaky smile, and whatever Geralt saw in his eyes made him relent, raising an arm to prop himself on the wall over Jaskier’s shoulder. Rubbing every available patch of skin, Jaskier indulged himself with a light squeeze to Geralt’s bulging biceps, earning himself a raised eyebrow, to which he answered with a cheeky smile.

A few men were turning back to their activities with disgruntled looks, but a couple were still trying to burn holes through Geralt’s back, and Jaskier upped his game by leaning closer to Geralt, their chests almost touching, and whispering in his ear. “Thank you for playing along, Geralt. I appreciate it, I really do.”

Geralt hummed, his brow furrowed tightly as he kept looking at the tiled wall. Cursing against the noble idiot’s stubbornness, Jaskier slid a hand down Geralt’s toned stomach, following the trail of dark hair under his navel as he leaned forward once again. “I could thank you, you know. Properly.”

A strong hand gripped his wrist as his fingers brushed the base of a half-hard cock and Jaskier shuddered, both at the strength of Geralt’s grasp and the feel of the velvet-smooth skin.

“Don’t start something you have no intention of finishing,” Geralt said between gritted teeth, his expression thunderous as his eyes finally found Jaskier’s. Just yesterday morning, Jaskier would have thought he was going to get himself killed with that look. Now, he could see the uncertainty fleeting in the gold irises.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Jaskier breathed, hoping his honesty showed through his words. He extended his fingers to graze through the hair at the base of Geralt’s cock, and the man took a deep inhale before letting Jaskier’s wrist go.

Jaskier’s fist wrapped around the rapidly plumping prick, giving it a testing tug, delighting in the feel of Geralt’s considerable weight in his hand. His fingers met little bumps on the underside of the shaft, three rows of them up to the head, where a ring pierced through the skin. Jaskier’s breath came out in a shudder as his own cock jumped and his free hand came up to rest on Geralt’s shoulder, giving himself some stability. The bastard had the best dick Jaskier had ever seen, and Jaskier needed it in his mouth like yesterday.

His knees hit the hard tile floor with a wet squelch, and when he heard a growl above him, Jaskier looked up between his lashes, trying his best to look innocent. There were whispers somewhere behind Geralt, and Jaskier didn’t pay them any attention, though he did speak louder than necessary when he said, “You take such good care of me, Daddy. Let me take care of you now.”

Swears rose from the stalls around them, and Jaskier smirked as he leaned to lick a stripe up the underside of his cellmate’s gorgeous pierced shaft, his eyes locked with Geralt’s intense, hungry gaze.

Geralt groaned loudly as Jaskier’s tongue played with the little metal studs, swirling around them with the tip, before closing his mouth over the head with a filthy moan, eyelashes fluttering shut.

Savouring the bitter taste of precome and the press of metal over his tongue, Jaskier revelled in the comforting familiarity of the act. Up until now, prison had been strange and stressful but this, this he knew how to do. Jaskier was born to suck cock and he couldn’t wait to show Geralt the extent of his skills.

Releasing the head with an obscene ‘pop’, he nosed his way lower, mouthing over the shaft messily, tongue mapping the veins, licking over Geralt’s heavy sack and ending the tease with a wet kiss over the pink fat head. Jaskier smiled as a splurt of precome followed in its wake, feeling smug.

A deep growl was his only warning before a hand threaded through his hair and pulled hard, forcing him to bare his throat, tears welling in his eyes.

Geralt was looking down at him with a snarl and Jaskier faltered for a moment. Oh, he still very much wanted to suck the living daylights out of the White Wolf — and hopefully get off as well — but the heat and hunger in Geralt’s gaze had him wondering if he hadn’t bit off more than he could chew.

“Stop playing games, little bird.” Geralt’s voice was slightly louder than his usual rumbling tone, and disappointment and fondness warred in Jaskier’s chest as he realised Geralt was playing a role just as much as he was.

To himself, he could admit he would have liked for them to be on their own in the shower, no one to fool with their little ruse, only him, Geralt, and the electric tension between them.

He wouldn’t have minded calling Geralt Daddy then, too.

He didn’t have time to wallow in his fantasies though, as Geralt took his own cock with his free hand and slid the tip over Jaskier’s parted lips, smearing precome that Jaskier caught with an eager dart of his tongue.

Jaskier let his jaw fall open as Geralt fed him his cock, heavy and hot on Jaskier’s tongue. His moan was muffled by the girth of it and his eyes fluttered shut as he palmed his own prick. He could have come from just this, Geralt’s shallow thrusts teasing at the entrance of his throat, and only a thin wall on each side to separate them from the other people in the room who were probably getting off at the thought of Jaskier’s mouth being used.

And he would have come just from this, if Geralt’s bare foot hadn’t nudged his arm away from his aching, needy cock, the fist in Jaskier’s hair tightening its grip painfully.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?”

Tears streamed down Jaskier’s face as he whined, the stretch of his mouth and the pull on his scalp and the fire in his guts overwhelming him. But he shook his head as well as he could given his position, eager to take whatever Geralt would give him.

“Cocksleeves don’t get to pleasure themselves, do they?”

Jaskier’s answer came out as a grunt, arousal flaring hot in his belly, skin tingling all over at Geralt’s deep voice whispering dirty things that made Jaskier reconsider his lists of kinks.

“So be a good little cocksleeve and don’t. Fucking. Touch. Yourself.” Geralt punctuated each word with a thrust, deeper and deeper, until he breached Jaskier’s throat on the last, causing him to choke and flail in surprise. Jaskier’s hands rose up to rest on Geralt’s thick thighs to ground himself.

With deep, relentless thrusts, Geralt used his mouth, the rows of piercings rolling over Jaskier’s tongue, making him go cross-eyed as he imagined Geralt taking his ass instead, with the same steady, maddening rhythm, his piercings at the perfect angle to pound Jaskier’s prostate.

Fuck, Jaskier wouldn’t last five minutes. Even less if he was allowed to touch his own cock.

Jaskier let himself be pushed and pulled, gagging and choking liberally, a good amount of spit and precome sliding down his chin, washed away by the water still raining down on them. It was a rough treatment, but every time Jaskier squeezed his thigh, Geralt left him some time to breathe, though he never stopped thrusting shallowly.

Don’t show them how kind you are, Jaskier thought. Let them think I’m your whore. That you made me your toy. It’s the only thing they understand.

As Geralt’s thrust became erratic, his breath loud and heavy in the narrow stall, Jaskier forced his eyes open, looking up. The gaze he met was filled with guilt and self-loathing, and Jaskier’s heart clenched at the sight.

He couldn’t very well comfort his friend here, in the full view of all the people they were trying to fool with this show, but he rubbed his thumbs in soothing circles over Geralt’s thighs, trying to convey every thing he couldn’t say. I’m okay. You’re not hurting me.

I want this.

Smiling wasn’t easy with a cock stretching one’s mouth, but Jaskier gave it a shot anyway, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he hummed contentedly. That tipped Geralt over the edge, his cock pulsing on Jaskier’s tongue, coming down his throat. Jaskier whined needily, eager to taste, and Geralt pulled out just enough that the last stripes of come hit Jaskier’s lips and cheek. Hi’s tongue swiped out for a taste before it was all washed away by the water and he sat back on his heels, dizzy and out of breath.

Geralt was watching him with wide eyes, hair plastered to his forehead and a pretty blush spread across his pale cheeks as he whispered, low enough not to be overheard over the sound of rushing water. “You okay?”

Not willing to let the other inmates hear his answer, Jaskier squeezed the hard muscle of Geralt’s thighs in reassurance.

Back in their cell, he would tell Geralt just how okay he was. That Geralt had nothing to worry about, and maybe even that Jaskier wouldn’t mind a reenactment of what had just transpired, only in private this time, and possibly with him being allowed to get off.

He rose, grimacing at the pain in his knees, reddened by his prolonged stay on the tiles, and washed off the last remnants of sweat and semen from his body, the heat of Geralt’s body enclosing him. Feeling like safety.

[gameswillbeplayed]

an incomplete verse list because i want more aus sue me

DN

Mainverse Matt survived Kira!Case and is getting used to living with…. No direction? No external drive? What is he supposed to do for the rest of his life??

Kira!Case Where the canon events take place. Matt works for Mello, tries to get over his hurt from being abandoned (or, at least, tries to get his revenge and make Mello feel the same) while getting closer to finishing up the case that killed L.

Alternatively, Matt might be working for Near to spite Mello. 

Looking for Mello After Mello left Wammy’s house, Matt went after him. He is in Las Vegas, looking for clues, getting into trouble and generally being a depressed jackass to anyone around him. He’s angry, he’s lonely and he’s hurt. 

Wammy verse Childhood at Wammy’s house is. Interesting. While Matt is not looking to compete for the status of L’s successor there isn’t a moment that isn’t filled with reminders that there is a goal that he should be trying to get to. The rat race is tough, and with a friend like Mello who needs enemies?

Pokémon

team rocket’s blasting off again Matt is a Team Rocket Executive, just following Giovanni’s orders to live a more exciting life. 

team numbskulls Matt is a Team Skull grunt, living that easy life doing whatever the fuck he wants (which more often than not is just chilling, smoking pot and having a beer or five).

The Owl House A member of Potions coven, Matt occasionally helps the Emperor’s coven with his knowledge of generally unheard-of and often bizarre potions. He sometimes wishes he chose the Emperor’s coven (or stayed a wild witch) for the sake of having access to more types of magic but is aware that his specialised skill set has a lot of important people owing him a favour. 

Genshin Impact Practically no-one knows how Matt became a member of Harbingers, or how he hasn’t gotten himself killed by the unending list of people envious of his status. Matt has an electro vision which he rarely has the need to use, as he prefers to avoid fighting head-on and tricks his enemies into an endless chase filled with Automatons he has tweaked.

Supernatural

Hunters Coming from Wammy’s orphanage for children whose caretakers were killed by supernatural creatures, Matt has never even thought of a life where he wouldn’t be a hunter. And he is good at what he does - he just doesn’t do much, which has gotten him into more than a handful of arguments with other hunters who seem to think that the whole world is on their personal shoulders. 

Hunters+ The same as previous but the one time Matt let his guard down he got bitten by a werewolf. Which is fine, it’s fine, no-one needs to know about this, right?

Gen!Mafia AU Going from a drug dealer to a sought-out hacker, Matt has seen most of what the mafia has to offer, good and bad. Some of the messy sides he prefers to ignore and leave for the people with stronger stomachs but unfortunately that’s not always an option.

And they were roommates (University AU) Oh yeah. University. The time when you get to spread your wings and get to know what being an adult is like and —- how has your roommate managed to make the place into a disaster zone already? You just moved in yesterday! AKA Matt is a terrible person to live with godspeed.

Prison AU So against the odds, Matt got caught. And against the odds, he got jail time. Two years, technically. Possibly less if he behaves himself - first timer perks, he supposes.

He really wishes he took weight lifting, or kickboxing, or any exercise, really, before being sent in. And that his cellmate won’t fuck him up too bad. And that the guards are pretty and wearing sexy prison guard uniforms, whatever those look like.

1312 AU Matt is a detective who keeps changing districts (and states) to do undercover jobs as often as possible because they are generally the jobs where he can do whatever he wants (Very much B99 influenced).

[buckybarnesbingo]

BBB Week 6 Roundup!

Little bit late, Mod Meg was on vacay over the weekend.

Title: Cute Quaterbacks Collaborator(s): Tori/samandbucky Link: AO3 Square: B4 - Sharing Clothes Rating: Teen Ship(s): Steve/Tony Major tags/warnings: AU, School, Fake Relationship, Protective!Bucky Summary: Steve and Bucky grew up as childhood best friends and are now roommates in college. Bucky dares Steve to bring a date to one of his upcoming football games after Steve suggests he could date anyone he wanted to. Enter Tony Stark. Word count: 1767

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Title: The Curse Collaborator(s): Tori/samandbucky Link: AO3 Square: K4 - Kiss Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Clint Major tags/warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Magic, Curses Summary: Clint gets hit during an alien attack with some dark magic, Bucky and Steve can't wake him, so they go to the only person they know who can undo the curse: Stephen Strange. Word count: 1364

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Title: A Regular Harry Houdini Collaborator(s): Bird Link: AO3 Square: K4 - Prisoners/Captives Together Rating: Teen Ship(s): Sam/Bucky Major tags/warnings: Minor Episode 5 Spoilers, Post-The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Captured, First Kiss Summary: “You know, if Steve kissed me in the middle of an escape attempt, he would bring it up after,” Sam said. “I thought we weren’t talking about Steve,” Bucky grunted, closing his eyes. “I’m going to take a nap.” “I can’t believe you’re pretending to take a nap right now.” “I’m 106, Sam. I’m allowed to fall asleep whenever I want.” Word count: 1365

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Title: K5 Card B096 Soulbond Collaborator(s): Rufferto Link: Tumblr Square: K5 - High Fantasy, Curses, Shiny Sword Steve Rating: Teen Ship(s): Stucky Major tags/warnings: Fantasy Warrior Bucky, Curses, Art, Sword Steve Summary: When Bucky went off to war Steve was cursed into a sword. Bucky managed to find him because they share a bond but he's cursed. Bucky now carries Steve into battle wherever he goes looking for a way to have Steve at his side again. This was done on Hot Press Water Color Paper with Windsor & Newton and Arteza paints. I don’t much like the scan, there’s something always lost when a watercolor image is scanned but I will try some other time to get a better photo of it. Word count: none it is art.

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Title: Benevolent Overlord Collaborator(s): IndigoNight Link: AO3 Square: K1 - Bucky Bear Rating: Gen Ship(s): Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Major tags/warnings: Fluff, PTSD, Codependency, Alpine the Cat Summary: “Hi,” Bucky says, wincing a little at how hoarse and rough his voice sounds from disuse. The kitten just hisses at him again, huge green eyes narrowed into slits. “Yeah, I get it,” he agrees with a grimace and a commiserating nod. Word count: 4921

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Title: I'm James Buchanan Barnes Collaborator(s): e_hytes Link: Tumblr Square: C2 - Art Style: Black and White Rating: Gen Ship(s): No pairing/ship Major tags/warnings: #buckybarnes #wintersoldier #jamesbuchananbarnes #mcu Summary: A drawing of Bucky/Winter Soldier black and white Word count: N/A

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Title: Someone Like You Collaborator(s): Nicnac Link: AO3 Square: C4 - Prison Rating: Mature Ship(s): Bucky/Reader Major tags/warnings: Enemies, Uneasy Allies, Hydra Agent Reader, Negotiations Summary: Taken from their SHIELD prison cell, the reader finds themself alone with The Winter Soldier negotiating for their life. Word count: 2693

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Title: Sambucky Incorrect Quotes Collaborator(s): snowstark Link: Tumblr Square: U2 - Partner-In-Crime Rating: Teen Ship(s): Sam/Bucky Major tags/warnings: Enemies to lovers vibe, Humour Summary: “Bucky, we tried things your way already.” “No we didn’t.” “I did it in my head and it didn’t work.” Word count: N/A

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Title: darling, you’re the one i want in paper rings Collaborator(s): cyanica Link: AO3 Square: C5 - teasing Rating: Gen Ship(s): steve/bucky Major tags/warnings: first time, demisexuality, period-typical homophobia, fluff, friends to lovers Summary: "Okay, I don't know why I’ve never – you know!” Bucky said after a moment, a soft laugh spilling from his lips – something so genuine and bashful, that Steve wasn’t so sure what to make of. “You're just – you're the only one I've ever had eyes for. You're the only one I’ve ever wanted.” Or, whatever deity had constructed the fragmented pieces of their souls together, they were made of the same smithereens, and Steve was sure he had known that as a child, holding Bucky’s slightly larger hand and accepting that they were of the same love, without even knowing what such a concept was. Word count: 1630

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Title: Unexpected Alliances - Chapter 4 Collaborator(s): PoliZ Link: AO3 Square: C5 - Lending a Hand Rating: Mature Ship(s): Stucky Major tags/warnings: Fantasy AU, enemies to friends/lovers, referenced/implied torture Summary: Buckthorn’s refusal to use his fae magic to support his captor’s cause has left him battered and broken; when he is given a dangerous shifter as his cellmate, they overcome their differences to become allies and perhaps something more. Chapter 4: Upon reaching the shifters’ camp, Buckthorn meets another of Stephen’s companions who seems to have a chip on his shoulder when it comes to fae folk. Word count: 1034

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Title: A Story Told in Flesh, Chapter 3: Together In Dreams Collaborator(s): ChrissiHR Link: AO3 Square: B2 - Rocket Racoon Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Bucky x Darcy x Steve Major tags/warnings: Big Swingin’ Dick!Steve, smut, nsfw, dream sex, sex positive Summary: Bucky and Darcy get massages and discuss Aesir medical treatments; Darcy has an erotic dream about Bucky & Steve. Word count: 1270

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Title: Written In The Scars (On My Heart) Collaborator(s): IndigoNight Link: AO3 Square: K5 - Just Do It Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Major tags/warnings: Past Rape/Non-con, In Heat (but not A/B/O) Masturbation, Sex Toys, Mildly Dubious Consent, Body Worship, Self Body Worship, Rimming, Fuck Or Die (sort of), Porn with Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Inability to Orgasm, Body Image, Reference to Past Medical Experimentation, Self-Lubrication, Touch-Starved, Touch-Averse Summary: He swallows hard, struggling with himself one last time and losing. “I need your help,” he manages to whisper, voice cracking. The air in the room immediately changes. The wound up tension drains out of Steve, his posture and voice going soft. “Sure, Buck,” he says, cautiously moving back toward him. Bucky can’t move, his arms locked tight around his knees, and he can’t lift his gaze higher than Steve’s knees either. Steve pauses when he’s still a few feet away, squatting down and angling his head in an effort to see Bucky’s face through the curtain of his hair. “Anything. What do you need?” It’s everything Bucky can do to hold still, every cell in his body vibrating with the need to throw himself into Steve’s arms. He opens his mouth, but his throat sticks and he has to swallow again before he can force the words out. Slowly, by sheer force of will, he drags his gaze up to meet Steve’s eyes. “I need you to fuck me.” Word count: 41k

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Title: Acceptance is the first part of Healing Collaborator(s): Laevateinn Link: AO3 Square: C4 - Denial Rating: Teen Ship(s): N/A Major tags/warnings: 1e3 : Power Broker, TFATWS coda, TW for : implied sexual abuse/assault, dissociation, PTSD, flashbacks, Angst, hopeful(ish) ending Summary: "You good ?" Wilson asks him, after he fought against eight men. "You okay ?" Wilson asks him, when they get to Sharon’s house. "You hurt ?" Wilson asks him, when they get out of the car. Yes, Wilson. All good. Now if the guy could shut up and carry on, that'd be great. Why would he be "not fine" anyway ? It's not as if anything that happened that day hasn't happened before. Word count: 906

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Title: The Maze Stumbler (Moodboard) Collaborator(s): Turtles Link: Tumblr Square: B3 - Labyrinth Rating: Teen Ship(s): Darcy Lewis & Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Major tags/warnings: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Thor, Cocktail, Labyrinth Summary: Something, something, Thor spikes the punch at the party and they all decide to re enact the Maze Runner… or something like that. Sam and Bucky wake up in the middle of a maze, nothing but Darcy’s voice in their ear giving them directions and critiquing their methodology Word count: N/A

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Title: The Maze Stumbler (Fic) Collaborator(s): Turtles Link: AO3 Square: C1 - Stranded Rating: Teen Ship(s): Darcy Lewis & Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Major tags/warnings: Thor's Asgardian Booze, a labyrinth, Dubious Timeline, Everybody Lives, Crack Summary: Don’t drink Thor’s Asgardian booze. Ever. Word count: 1657

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Title: 5 Times Steve Received Plums from Natasha or Sam and the 1 Time Steve Realized the Plums weren’t from Them Collaborator(s): Girl_Back_There Link: AO3 Square: K5 - Bucky/Steve Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Steve Major tags/warnings: 5 + 1, Bucky and his Plums, Angst and Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug Summary: Steve keeps finding plums in his hotel rooms or his bag. He thinks it is Natasha or Sam trying to be a good friend by making sure he is eating and keeping up his energy in the search for Bucky. Each plum he finds reminds him of Bucky growing up in pre-WWII New York. The times they would give each other a plum as a way of saying “I’m sorry” or “I love you.” Word count: 2998

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Title: Faith and Desire and the Swing of Your Hips Collaborator(s): IndigoNight Link: AO3 Square: U2 - French Kiss Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Major tags/warnings: Crossdressing, Nonbinary Steve Rogers, Oral Sex, Body Dysphoria, Gender Exploration, Supportive Flirting Summary: “You look gorgeous, doll,” he drawls, dragging up as much of old Brooklyn as he can to infuse into the words. Steve startles, even though the doorway and Bucky in it are clearly reflected behind him in the mirror. Steve’s eyes flick to him and away again, his face going pink from the tips of his ears and spreading all the way down to his chest. He fidgets with his skirt, hands smoothing over the folds of it self consciously. “It looks a little silly,” he mutters, chewing on his already chapped lower lip. Word count: 5470

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Title: Stay Collaborator(s): Bird/plutosrose Link: AO3 Square: C3 - Free Square Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Sam/Bucky Major tags/warnings: Post-Canon, First Time Summary: “So, are you keeping the outfit?” Word count: 1919

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Title: It's Not a Miracle You Need Collaborator(s): UisceOneLove Link: AO3 Square: Y3 - At a Crossroads Rating: Teen Ship(s): James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Major tags/warnings: Post-Endgame, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending Summary: Sitting out on the dock of Tony's lakehouse while the others slept, Steve thought about where he was expected to go from here. It's a good thing Bucky's around to help him see where that can be. Word count: 1584

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

Round One

It’s time to read & vote!

The 13 fics that we received for this round can be found below, or on AO3 here! Each fic follows the theme [New Adult], includes the tropes [Roommates] and [Based on a Children’s Book Series], and has a central character focus on [Octavia Blake]! When you vote, please be sure to take into consideration the USE of all these elements, because, as with all other TROPED events, the purpose is to select the authors who best utilize the requirements!

The structure for voting is simple! Please rank the thirteen (13) fics, first (1) being your top choice, and thirteen (13) being your last choice! The first poll, you will be asked to rank all 13 fics, the way you did in the Qualifying Round. This will help us to break any ties, and we will use this ranking to reorder the authors for the Bunker Brackets for Round 2. The second poll will have five head-to-head pairings and 3 BYEs this round. Please select which author of the two fics you think deserves to move on to Round 2!

You can vote here:

https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/57WNY9B

————

the daughter of war  (Rated T) [Octavia & Niylah]

Summary: Octavia's been at Camp Half-Blood for half her life, and she has no interest in leaving. It takes a war, a near-fatal injury and the kindness of an unwanted roommate to show her that she has the strength to forge her own path.

You Choose Your Race (And Then You Run) (Rated T) [Octavia & Carole]

Summary: Octavia has always lived in her older brother’s shadow. Everyone knew her just as Bellamy’s little sister -- if they knew her at all. Homeschooled for most of her life, she had few friends of her own and was so excited to finally step out into the world and follow in her brother’s footsteps to be a political science major at Boston University.

Until she flunked out of college. She realized she isn’t her brother, can’t be her brother, and wants to run as far as she can in the other direction. She leaves the university with no direction and winds up in Willow Creek, Virginia, rooming with Carole Hanson who is taking a gap year to work at Pine Hollow and save up for vet school.

We Are The Wild Youth (Rated T) [Octavia & Josephine]

Summary: Between what has to be the worst roommate ever, and trying to find her place on the school equestrian program, Octavia is struggling to find her place in her second year of college. When she finds out she is finally going to get to compete in her first ever horse show, will anything actually go right?

courage, dear heart (Rated T) [Gen Fic]

Summary: Now, this is a story you may know...

There were four children who went through a magical wardrobe, and became kings and queens of a magical land.

To the glistening eastern sea, I give you Queen Raven the Resourceful. To the great western woods, King Wells the Wise. To the radiant southern sun, Queen Clarke the Commanding. And to the clear northern skies, I give you King Bellamy the Benevolent. Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia

....but this is not the story to be told. This story is of a fifth child, who was hidden and forgotten.

To the holder of the compass, Octavia the Osleya, I give you the Champion of Narnia.

choices made in sp[r]ite (Rated T) [Octavia/Murphy]

Summary: Octavia scowled, lying back down on the bed, wishing for nothing more than to wake up from whatever nightmare she was currently residing in.  Sure, she had been a little bit unhinged since graduating from Haven City Prep School, but that didn’t mean Bellamy had to leave her in a cell just because she got in another fight!

or... and they were cellmates (oh my god, they were cellmates)

Once a king or queen of Narnia... (Rated T) [Octavia & Bellamy]

Summary: They grow up together. Twice. That would mess with anyone's head.

laying down my past i scream (this is not the end of me) (Rated T) [Octavia & Murphy]

Summary: The last person Octavia wanted to be stuck in a cell with was Murphy.

Not after he betrayed her, turned to the enemy's side.

Tried to kill her.

But maybe she didn't yet know the full story.

- or the Eragon/100 crossover where Octavia has a dragon and so does Murphy and they're stuck in a cell together

and now we're grown-up orphans (that never knew their names) (Rated T) [Octavia & Clarke]

Summary: In a world where every person is allowed to have only one child, Octavia Blake has lived her whole life in hiding. But when she's nineteen, she gets the salvation she'd given up on: a new identity.

Specifically, the identity of the recently deceased Josephine Griffin.

Even In Death May You Be Triumphant (Rated T) [Octavia & Indra]

Summary: Octavia was woken by the soft rustling of dirt being moved above her. The sound was methodical, growing louder and closer, before the thud of the shovel hitting her coffin lid signaled the start of her new life. Indra had come for her.

OR

Octavia and Indra Vampire AU based on the Cirque du Freak series (Mainly the Vampire Blood Trilogy)

It's about growing up (Rated G) [Octavia & Bellamy]

Summary: Bellamy and Octavia have spent every moment of her life together, but a trip back in time in a treehouse they had played in as a kid helps to finally break open the tense air between them, and lets them find new footing.

cause the big dog's moving in (Rated T) [Octavia x Murphy]

Summary: Murphy's new roommate came with a dog, which was really the best kind of bonus.

"He's a red lab," Octavia had told him when he'd asked. "And he's big."

Murphy had seen labs before and while, yeah, they were decently large, they weren't that big, but, really, he was just excited to have a dog by association.

Maybe he should have asked for at least pictures or something, though, because he definitely hadn't anticipated just how big Octavia's big red dog really was.

Do act mysterious. (Rated T) [Octavia x Levitt]

Summary: Octavia has learned a lot over her years in college.

She's learned that she has a knack for solving mysteries, that she wants to make a steady income in sleuthing once she graduates with her criminal justice degree, and most recently, that she has a thing for her roommate, Levitt.

So when Levitt's entire life implodes against his will, Octavia finds herself diving head first into solving the mystery of who the culprit is, determined to restore Levitt's name and bring the guilty party to justice.

(She just wishes it didn't involve interacting with all of her college exes in the process.)

The Unshakable Queen, Her Broken Mind, And a Heart Long Since Castaway (Rated T) [Gen Fic]

Summary: Octavia kom Wonkru has had a rough week. Well more like a rough past six years, but who's counting? Prettyu soon though she finds the solace she's been looking for and she gets dragged into a fairytale, literally!

A land of stories and the 100 crossover that no one wanted but you got anyways!

[becauseplot]

Touching Base

Just a little Roommates/Cellmates AU oneshot because they live in my head like how Cell lives in Felps' apartment: rent-free. (Also because I am procrastinating on bigger projects rn.) (What who said that.)

Takes place a couple years after the events of Miss Me? and Shared Living Space. Cell has officially started going by Cellbit, a relatively recent development. He still sleeps on the couch, but that's mainly because the second "bedroom" in the apartment is used for Felps' storage and both of them dread having to clear it out. He has a job and puts most of that money towards groceries, new clothes, and therapy. Felps---finally working at a station where his superiors don't hate his guts---covers pretty much everything else.

(TWs: discussions of killing/murder, light allusions to suicide in a joking manner (they're fine, someone's just being dramatic). they are having a conversation that is oh so very normal for two friends to have yesyes. tbh this was supposed to be way more light hearted but then the angst. the angst...)

Key ring dangling from his finger, Cellbit shoulders his way through the apartment door, juggling a box of redstone bulbs, a stack of spam mail, and the library book that doesn’t quite fit in his over-full messenger bag. “Felps?”

There's no verbal answer, but over the back of the couch, Cellbit sees a tired hand rise and wave. There’s a dull whump when it drops back down.

Cellbit, taking this and the fact that the TV isn't even on, raises an eyebrow. "Long day?" There's a muffled groan in response, and that's all Cellbit needs to hear to get the gist of it. He wiggles his keychain off his finger and into the dish before shutting the door behind him with his foot and heading to the table, where he dumps off his things. Hands free, he slips his bag off his shoulder and sits down to take off his work boots. Once he's got them off, he takes a moment to slump back in the chair, relief washing over his aching back and shoulder, before he picks himself up and heads over to see what the situation is.

The situation, it seems, is as follows: Felps is lying on his back on the couch, still wearing his uniform, with a pillow pressed into his face like he's trying very, very hard to smother himself with it.

Cellbit sits himself down on the floor with his side against the foot of the couch, right by Felps. He plants an elbow on the cushions and drops his chin into the heel of his hand. "So. Who do I need to kill?"

Felps groans again and shifts the pillow off his face just enough to free his mouth. "Me. Kill me, please. Kill me. Literally just kill me."

"Ehhh," Cellbit says. "You know, I did that once, and you didn't like me very much after that."

"Cellbit I am begging you. You'd be doing me a favor."

"Mm, no. I don't think so." He pokes one of the fingers Felps has dug into the cushion. "Now come on—a name, an address. Give me something to work with here, Felps."

Felps sighs and finally yanks the pillow off his face, flipping his hands around and throwing it into his lap. His hair is a complete, frazzled mess, though Cellbit supposes that's the least of his worries. "No one's getting killed. This isn't a problem you can fix by killing someone."

"Except for you?"

"Except for me."

"Okay. So what happened?"

Felps makes a pained noise and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. At least he's not suffocating this time. "Davi," he mumbles.

Cellbit blinks. Usually, he has a hard time keeping all of the names of Felps' coworkers, friends, and acquaintances straight in his head since there's so many of them, but this one registers immediately. He takes this in, looks at Felps agonizing on the couch, thinks back onto what Felps told him the other day, does some rapid mental math, and comes to the conclusion that maybe the situation actually could be fixed by killing someone. Potentially.

But before that thought can properly start, Felps flicks him against the temple. "Hey, no plotting. I'm serious."

"Plotting?" Cellbit echoes, oh-so-perplexed. "I wasn't plotting. Who said anything about plotting?"

"Cellbit."

"Who said anything about plotting the murder of the hot guy at the train station who rejected your friend after he spent two weeks working up the courage to ask him out? I sure didn't."

"Cellbit," Felps says, insistent. Cellbit stops, but only because Felps wants him to, and only because he’s joking. Really. "It's fine. It's my fault anyway. I totally fucked it up. I got the timing all wrong, and—" Felps breaks off into another horrified sound, dragging his hands down his face. "God, it was so bad. I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright. Anything I can do? That doesn't involve killing you?"

Felps pauses. He peeks at Cellbit from behind his hands. "...Grab the remote for me?"

Cellbit snorts. "Sure." He gets up (swallows a grunt; fuck, his shoulder's being funny) and grabs the remote off the TV stand. When he comes back, Felps has managed to get his-wallowing-self into an upright position so Cellbit can collapse back into the sofa beside him.

Cellbit clicks on the TV. "What're we feeling?"

"Pain."

"I mean what do you feel like watching, dumbass."

"Literally anything," Felps says with a wave of his hand.

"Right… So if I put on Blood on the Taiga—"

"Parkour tag."

"Okay, parkour tag it is."

They start to chat a little as Cellbit flicks through the minigame channels, looking for one that's broadcasting parkour tag: ("How was work at the station?" "Were the docks busy today?" "Did that warrant finally get processed?" "Is your shoulder still bothering you?" "You should probably change out of your uniform." "You should probably take a shower." "In a bit, my back has to unbreak itself first.")

It doesn't take him long to find a channel, so they end up talking through part of the first round, swapping the work updates they usually provide each other. After that, they settle in, feet up on the coffee table, shoulders pressed together. Cellbit watches the teams trade off "runners" and "hunters." Felps usually roots for the team in the blue and green jerseys, but it doesn't seem like they're playing today. Still, these teams aren't half-bad. The tall one on the red-orange team is a good hunter, Cellbit idly notes. She's light on her feet.

It's at the start of the third round that Felps speaks up again.

"So. Hypothetical question for you."

Cellbit watches the good-hunter spring off a piston-platform. "Alright."

"And this is completely hypothetical. One hundred percent, utterly hypothetical."

"Okay."

"I'd never genuinely ask this of you."

"Sure."

The good-hunter drops down a ladder, missing a tag on a runner by a hair's breadth. The squeak of her sneakers echoes through the arena.

"...If I told you I needed you to kill someone for me, would you actually do it?"

Cellbit tilts his head. The good-hunter whirls around a corner and swings herself up onto another platform. "Yeah."

He feels more than sees Felps startle beside him. "...R...Really?"

"Yeah."

"Just like that?"

"Well, like I said earlier, I'd need, like, a name. An address if you can get it. At least a general location—"

"No, no, I mean..."

Felps falters, and Cellbit takes his eyes away from the game to look up at him. Felps is staring right back, a furrow in his brow.

"...You wouldn't even question it? Or hesitate?"

Ohhh. Cellbit understands now. The morals. He was asking about the morals. "Well," starts Cellbit. He pauses. Then, he drags his feet over to the edge of the couch, legs curled up, in front of his chest. The position makes his back ache, but the rest of him feels better this way. He hangs his arms over his knees. He stares at the TV, but he's not really sure who's hunting and who's running anymore.

He sighs. "...The way I see it—you would never ask me to kill someone unless they actually deserved it. I think it would take a lot for you to decide someone needs to die, then a lot more to tell me to kill them because...you know me. I'll get it done. And I won't half-ass it either."

And if they hurt you, Cellbit thinks, with a sudden, rising fury, I'll kill them dead. I'll make it hurt. Carve their throat out with my teeth. They'll be begging for the Void long before I'm through with them.

But he lets that one go on an exhale, lets it pass wordlessly between his lips, before it can get too far. He flexes his hands, loosening them. "But..." he continues, scraping together the courage to say the rest. "You also know I'm trying not to— You know I'm better about that now. Past it. Moving past it. And you're—" He falters. His tongue darts over his lip. He bites it. "You're generally helpful in that regard, so..."

"...You don't think I'd ask you to do something that would ruin your progress unless it was serious," Felps finishes.

"Yeah." Cellbit tilts his head to either side, cracking his neck, and flexes his hands again. God, his therapist would be so fucking proud of him.

"Okay." Felps clears his throat. "Sorry if that made you uncomfortable, I just—the thought wouldn't leave me alone, and..."

"No, no, it's—it's fine. It's a good question to ask. Making sure we're on the same page, and all that. Touching base. Getting caught up. Just like we always do."

"Right," Felps says. "Just like we always do."

A beat.

"But I wouldn't. Ask that of you, I mean. I'd never ask you to kill someone for me."

"I know," Cellbit replies easily. "I heard you the first time."

(And Cellbit trusts Felps to stick to his word. Honestly, he does. But the issue—or perhaps the best part, depending on how much he wants to disappoint his therapist—is that Felps wouldn't even have to ask. In no universe would Felps ever have to ask.)

"...Oh. Okay."

"Okay."

The conversation hangs in the air, gradually dissipating. Slowly, Cellbit manages to recenter his attention on the game of parkour tag. Round four. She's hunting again, though this is her last hunting round. After that, she'll be stuck as a runner for the rest of the tournament. Felps rests his head on Cellbit's shoulder as the alarm blares and the competitors are released from their chambers. Cellbit nestles his cheek in Felps' curls. The final hunt has begun.

[imposterogers]

(banging fists on the table) post scottluis! post scottluis!

a perfect moment for me to remind everyone that marvel essentially wrote a cute meet it/domestic au and the fandom straight up ignored it bc

-scott and luis met in prison. they were cellmates and immediately hit it off, and became so close that when scott was released, luis was the one who picked him up

-luis once said "I love it when he gets cocky" ABOUT SCOTT

-luis is the one scott goes to when he needs someone to talk to, and they even start a business together

-when scott was put under house arrest luis and scott moved in together (oh my god they were roommates) and got into married couple fights about proverbs and how to load the dishwasher

-luis makes scott waffles on multiple occasions which is very sweet bc scott loves snacking

cellmates to soulmates, babyyyyy

[stuckybingo]

Mirror Image by plutosrose M, No Archive Warnings Apply Summary Steve joins a medical study after he tells Dr. Cho his soulmark changed, and meets Bucky Barnes, who had his soulmark removed by Hydra.

To Be Wed by plutosrose E, No Archive Warnings Apply Summary Prince Steven is entered into an arranged marriage with Lord James, the omega son of the Duke George Barnes.

g's Council by plutosrose M, No Archive Warnings Apply Summary Steve, and an extremely pregnant Bucky, attend a meeting of the King's Council.

Happy Golden Daze (First Kiss) by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply Summary After walking in on his roommate, Bucky realizes his relationship with Steve will never be the same. It's both terrifying and exactly as it should be.

End of the Line by PottersPink T, N/A Summary a scene from the fight on the helicarrier

Together Again by samandbucky Teen And Up, injury, swearing Summary When Steve and Bucky finally arrive at the raft to rescue Team Cap, they expect to find Sam there, but they don't.

when thoughts keep drifting (as walls keep shifting) by plutosrose T, No Archive Warnings Apply Summary Bucky considered this for a moment. “Sometimes I miss things too.” “Like what?” “Things like...having a home. Things. I don’t know. They don’t always have names.” Steve smiled a little in the darkness. “Yeah, me too.”

More Than Pretend by samandbucky Teen And Up, implied/referenced homophobia Summary ucky’s family is having their usual family dinner like they always do on Valentine’s Day, but this time he’s decided to ask Steve to be his ‘fake boyfriend’ so his mother will stop bugging him about bringing a date home. Steve says yes, despite the fact that he has very real feelings for Bucky and doesn’t want this to be 'just pretend’.

Let Me See Your Body by ralsbecket M, Slightly non-con Summary Mortals fell in love with spirit shifters all on their own, without the aid of magic, but sometimes they fell in love with them right back.

Russian Roulette Romances by ralsbecket M, N/A Summary Barnes’ metal hand was on his faceplate within seconds, ripping it off the helmet like it was a sheet of paper. Tony had half the mind to fire the thrusters on his boots, but one whiff of the air around them sent a warm shiver through his limbs.

we should pretend by scorpiohs explicit, n/a Summary “We should pretend.” / Steve’s confused now. “Pretend what?” / “Pretend to date!”

Unexpected Alliances by Politzania Teen, None Summary Buckthorn’s refusal to use his fae magic to support his captor’s cause has left him battered and broken; when he is given a dangerous shifter as his cellmate, they overcome their differences and become unexpected allies.

Wrestling Match by plutosrose M, No Archive Warnings Apply Summary “For the record, though, I am happy that you have someone now who you care about and who cares about you. Someone who isn’t Brock. I still can’t believe that.” Natasha shook her head as she drained her glass.

Infinite by plutosrose T, No Archive Warnings Apply Summary He had expected the other Steve to let go of him--after all, that’s what he would have done, he thought, if someone in 2012 told him that Bucky wasn’t dead. Instead, the other Steve moved quickly, slamming him ruthlessly into the floor and digging his fingers into his neck.

Worth It by plutosrose E, No Archive Warnings Apply Summary Steve surprises Bucky with a romantic gesture.

get a clue (board game for game night) by plutosrose M, No Archive Warnings Apply Summary Bucky is a little...too good at Clue at Avengers' game night.

from the same star by redsixred Teen and Up Audiences, None Summary Soulmate AU where soulmarks are weirdly shaped scars, appearing right after birth, mostly on the visible parts of the body, like on one's neck or hands. But Steve Rogers is one unlucky bastard, so his soulmark is not only fairly small, but it's also right below his rib. Of course. And having spent his 20s and early 30s desperately searching his soulmate everywhere –including but not limited to public pools, beaches, spa centers and even tattoo parlors– he is on the verge of giving up. That is, until one day his best friend drags him to a pole dancing class, and a certain pole instructor in a crop top catches his eye.

lazy afternoon by redsixred Teen And Up Audiences, none Summary It's a peaceful Sunday afternoon. The sun shines through the window of their condo. Marvin Gaye is playing softly in the background. Steve's trying to concentrate on his book, Bucky's trying to get his attention. Nat was right. Retirement is a good look on them

[sorenskyhigh]

My Master List

Tattoo Headcanons- Tsukishima

Starbucks Headcanons

Coffee Shop Au- Aoba Johsai

Drunk Cellmates

Roommates Headcanons- Daichi and Suga,

Tendo

Gingerbread Houses- Karasuno, Nekoma

Ice Skating Date

Things They'd Do in a Relationship

Haikyuu as D&D Races- Karasuno

Tendo Satori as a Serial Killer boyfriend- pt. 1,

Pt.2

Pets I think They'd Have- Karasuno pt.1, Tendo, Karasuno pt.2,

What they Would Be Like as Your Boyfriend- Tendou,

Them with Flirty S/O- Tendou,

Animes They'd Watch With You- Captains pt.1,

A S/O that Moves Around Alot in Their Sleep- Tendo, Kenma, Bokuto, and Hinata

A s/o that speaks another language

Free! Characters

As your coworkers- Iwatobi

Obey Me

Mammon angst

[delimeful]

Day 16: Alien

this is connected to my Alien AU, watch it burn and rust! virgil’s POV of the events of the first chapter! :)

warnings: nonconsensual drug use, fear, panic, implications of suicidal thoughts

-

When the smugglers opened the door and threw something in, rather than take him out, Virgil was understandably wary. 

That sense of unease only increased as he realized it was another alien, and he shifted into a crouch as it scrabbled at the door desperately. He’d been fed recently, so they hadn’t forgotten he was in here. What was the idea, putting another creature in his cell? Was it a survival of the fittest sort of situation? 

He tensed further when the alien turned, but it only pressed itself against the wall, dark eyes wide and antennae flattened like an agitated cat’s ears. It didn’t move, watching him intently but so still Virgil could barely see it breathing. It clearly didn’t want to fight him head-on. 

He sighed in relief, hunkering back slightly. The alien remained frozen for a long while, and then slowly sunk to the ground bit by bit. Virgil didn’t move, unwilling to accidentally scare the little thing, but he didn’t sleep either. Just because it wasn’t attacking directly didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to try and kill him through less straightforward means. 

He knew what other aliens thought of humans, after all.

Still, regardless of potential nefarious intentions, this one was clearly worse for wear. It- wait, that was rude- They were clearly another victim of the smugglers, bruised and exhausted and terrified in a way Virgil was intimately familiar with. It didn’t take long before they were drooping, and then snoring quietly from their hunched over spot in front of the door. Virgil let himself relax just a little bit. 

The alien’s slumber lasted for as long as it took the next meal to be shuttled in, and Virgil watched as the tray fell directly on top of the alien, making their antennae jump and fluff out. They slowly looked up at him, letting out a shrill clicking sound, and Virgil tilted his head curiously. He sounded the click out in his own mouth, and then blinked. 

Oh! This was an Ampen. He almost hadn’t realized, with how little feathers the little guy had. He felt a surge of empathy. The smugglers had taken things from him, too. 

The Ampen delicately set the tray on the ground and pushed it towards him, chirping softly in that bird-like language before scooting themself back towards the farthest corner. Grateful that they weren’t going to fight over food, Virgil swiftly tore into the food pack and devoured his half of the bland rations. 

It didn’t seem like they were going to provide more rations for the Ampen, so he slid the tray back in their direction, mimicking their earlier chirps in hopes it would convey his meaning. 

They stared at him long enough that he was certain he’d messed up, accidentally cursed them out or something, but after he returned to his corner of the cell he turned to see them picking at the food. Oh. Nice. 

Maybe this roommate thing would work out after all.

-

It was a while before he heard the distinct steps of the smugglers approaching his cell, and so he’d had plenty of time to plan what he would do about the new addition. 

It was clear with every meal that whoever had decided to throw the Ampen in here had assumed that Virgil, as a ‘bloodthirsty human’, would murder the little alien, getting rid of the problem for them. That meant that if he didn’t want the smugglers to take his little cellmate away to be killed, he had to hide them. 

Luckily, he still had his hoodie. It was a comfort item, but if it meant saving the Ampen, he could stand to give it up for a while. 

Unluckily, he’d forgotten that he had no way to reliably communicate with the Ampen, and even less way to make them trust him enough to listen to his plan. He glanced between the sleeping alien and the door a few times, and then threw his hands up and hurried over to the alien, tossing his hoodie over them. 

Immediately, the Ampen was thrashing and fighting, which was understandable but very not helpful at this moment, particularly because the guards would see the moving hoodie from a mile away. His latent instincts from working as an assistant at a veterinary hospital kicked in, and he carefully pressed the Ampen down, squishing them the way one would an unruly cat. He waited a few moments, immensely stressed, and then sighed in relief when the alien went mostly still. 

Carefully, he slid the bundle of hoodie and Ampen across the floor to the darker corner of the cell, and jumped away to stand just in time for the guards to burst in with their typical terrible hospitality. He wasn’t quick enough to jump away from the tranquilizer the nearest one smacked onto him, and as he fell to his knees his last coherent thought was a hope that the little creature would remain undetected. 

-

One haze of pain and restraints later, he found the numbing effects of the tranq wearing off just in time to be thrown to the ground, agitating the multiple injuries he’d gained. He groaned, curling in on himself slightly when the door slammed shut with a harsh noise, and blinked a few times. Was something moving- oh. His cellmate. 

The Ampen was close now, dangerously so, and his lip curled up in a half-hearted warning grimace. He was too tired to sustain it for long, though, and wouldn’t it be funny if the guards came back and found their precious human harvest had been killed by an Ampen the size of his arm? Funnier than slowly wasting away in this cell, at least.    

He sighed, letting his head roll back and his eyes flutter closed, ignoring the part of him screaming about his exposed neck. He was tired. If they were going to try and kill him, that was their problem, not his.  

Still, he couldn’t help but flinch slightly when there was a sudden touch on his arms, and he rolled his head to the side, squinting at what he realized was his hoodie, now draped over him like an undersized blanket. 

He barely had the strength to look over at the Ampen, who was curling up back in their customary spot in the corner. His lips twitched up slightly as his eyes closed again, finally succumbing to his weariness.  

An alien showing kindness to a human. Who would have thought?