#SIGMAS FINE HES JUST OVERWHELMED

[myessenceconsistsofdeadmemes]

HOW THE FUCK WAS HE MONOLOGUING QFTER BEING SHOT IN THE HEAD. WHY DOES THE REASONS TO LIVE MANGA KEEP TRYING TO KILL HIM

[zecretsanta]

to: @goggles-girl

from: @mortellanarts

prompt: A reunion of Aoi and Akane post-ZTD good end

Extra gift!!! Didn’t feel right to have this as the main one because it’s a scene I was already working on for my own fic but I did make you a doodle (with outdated dialogue because I edit sentences. a lot) But yeah I love them here you go enjoy the sneak peek ^•^

——————

The first thing Akane intended to do, as soon as Carlos put down the gun, was head to the intercom. The only reason she doesn’t head there right away is because Junpei had been more concerned about going to them instead, checking the body, then checking the chamber of the weapon to be, thankfully, devoid of any more bullets. He was still very adamant about keeping it on him, though. Understandable bit of paranoia, which… she might have had a hand in embedding into him just a tiny bit… she’s glad to let him have it over anyone else here at the moment, so it’s fine.

Diana had actually gotten up there first, with Sigma in tow now permanently glued at her side, but she made the nurse hand the radio to her almost as soon as there was any reception. The excuse of her being better spoken was there for decor, no real effort into hiding her intention was going into it and she thinks Sigma can tell, not that he appreciates the tone she just took with his… partner? Crush? Spouse? Whatever their relationship status, all Akane could give a solid thought to at the moment was structuring her sentences on the radio just the way she had arranged with her brother. 

Feign a regular distress call while using just the right words of code that he’ll recognize while listening in on the monitored connection, and he’ll know to intervene and locate the source of the radio signal and send a team to pick her up, like they agreed, and he’ll be here and he’ll get her out–

Before she knows it the talking is done.

The little bit of palpable anxiety that she felt start to dread up her neck vanishes as soon as she gets the last word in, certain that Aoi picked up the signal. Now it’s back to regular anxiety that she can easily shove down in order to not display any weakness. 

Easier than breathing at the moment, practically second nature. 

Turns out they’re still subconsciously dividing themselves into teams, more or less. Mira, Eric and the kid were the first to break from the group, off to the side of the building, at first trying to find cover from the sun themselves and then for Gab’s sake. Surprisingly, Phi had then joined them, uncomfortably sneaking past her own team and sitting down petting the old fluff ball as if he were a therapy dog.

Most urgency they might have had seemed to evaporate along with the dry air outside the facility. Any normal metabolism would burn out from a shock as sudden and drastic as having their already sufficiently overwhelmed consciousness jammed into versions of their bodies with absolutely no time to anticipate. And that’s regardless of any training one could possibly have undergone, a burst of adrenaline like this is bound to mess you up eventually no matter who you are. 

What a ragtag assortment of people… Sure, they all agreed to work together now to save the world and everything, but she’s pretty much the only one here who knows the kind of work that implies. At least everyone seems equally and utterly fatigued. It is great news, as long as this provenly volatile mix of personalities doesn’t have any more energy to cause friction or implode in on itself, she’ll manage. 

The only thing that is not ideal about that is how she’s included. God, she’s at her wits end. She’s resorted to counting the seconds until Aoi gets here to keep herself awake. 

She is, afterall, oh so fond of this place. And this environment. And, best of all, the temperature. It was only the air conditioning that made the coming and going from building Q even marginally bearable. Even in winter this dress is far too heavy and warm- god– okay, where did Jumpy wander off to?

Having since joined the growing line of people forming under the sparse shade around the perimeter of the building, roughly 18 minutes pass of her trying to ground herself by indulging in conversation with Junpei. Who… didn’t seem to have wound down as much as the others himself. There’s a topic to disarm him though, sheepishly talk and tease about the ring she knows to be in his pocket, though he doesn’t want to bring it back out again just yet. Come to think of it, wasn’t one of the other couples talking about marriage proposals at the start of the week…? Weddings weren’t on her list of subjects she expected out of this venture.

Carlos is there too. She has to teach herself to be civil with him if only out of respect for the fact he never did anything to her out of truly bad intentions, even with ample room to do so. Not that she’s fond of people getting in the way out of sheer ignorance either. But, she has to know to cut her losses, and there are certainly good qualities there she could see as very useful to have on her side still.

Then, finally, the cars arrive. She’s already dusting herself off as soon as they come to a stop and of course a bed of white hair poking out of the door is the first thing she sees. Rushing out, he pulls her into a hug so quickly that she’s still piecing together the look on his face as her head rests under his chin. Considering everyone that is still here to see the scene, it’s a bit… much. But she knows she has to let him have this second of comfort. Besides, it’s not like she herself doesn’t feel overwhelmed and grateful for it too, a safe embrace after nearly a full day’s worth of torment. As always, she hides it better, but she clings on just as tight. 

“Are you going to tell me what that silence was all about?” When he pulls away just enough so they can look at each other to talk, still gripping her by the shoulders and leaning down a bit, she can tell he didn’t even touch up his hair and, even more telling, had left the house without concealing his eyebags.

“At some point, yes.”

They agreed on several times for daily check-ins. Nothing complex, literally any thought she could easily send his way counted. How many of those did she miss in this timeline? What time is it? What date- Not that- it isn’t hard to believe he’d be worried sick over just one. It’s Aoi she’s talking about, afterall. 

And she’s so relieved to talk to him.

“Ok. Are you okay?”

“I'm–!” For a second she sounded so enthusiastic she almost uttered the word, mouthing it but not quite following through the rehearsed motion. Hearing the affirmation crack under her own voice hurt more than expected, but still she cleared her throat and cheered. “–We all made it this once. No one’s, to my knowledge, currently in any need of urgent care… Oh! Right, ehrm… hehe, although we do need to clean up a little mess…”

The little twinkle in her eyes isn’t coming back anytime soon, but she’s trying her best not to falter, to keep the mood from dwindling. 

“This- once– yeah- cool, cool, cool–okay… Okay.” The more her choice of words sinks in the more he feels like he dodged a bullet, the more he has to redirect his thoughts elsewhere. “Do I have to know? And what kind of mess are we talking about here?”

She coos as if she doesn’t get what he means immediately.

“Oh-! I don't… I suppose not everything would be relevant for you to know right away, no.”

“Good then.” He places a kiss on her forehead. Priorities. Right now he has to keep focused and match her attempt at levity until further instructions, that’s all.

The near heart attack he had during the time nothing they tried could establish contact was enough of letting his imagination run amok with worst case scenarios. Plus, popping up somewhere completely different in this desert had its own implications, he knew that. 

His tone is still too shaky to really sound like a joke. 

“Please don’t do the details yet then, alright sis? Beg of you.”

Not only does she look a little dejected by that but the way she looks over to the other people with her leaves an anxious unspoken weight on both their minds. For a second, her breathing goes uneven and she looks like she’s keeping herself from crying.

Not that one could tell just hearing her voice. 

“Well, I beg of you to tell me if the air conditioner on these cars was running and if I can sit down without-”

“Fuck, of course, lemme just-” 

Even though the desert air pouring into the vehicle as they speak isn’t ideal, the cool interior is just enough relief that she needed to get her bearings back. Aoi quickly pulls some water bottles from somewhere between the seats too.

Then she nods and takes a sip before speaking again. Gesturing more energetically, more theatrically. 

And the weight is gone.

[little-wolfpuppy]

Caregivers Sigma-17 (Transformers Rescue Bots)

All of them

Calls you thier sparkling or thier charge

Terrified of hurting you (they're big and metal and humans are FRAGILE)

Caregiver together as a team building excersize (this is only kinda a joke)

Ima be real they did NOT know what age regression was but if you explain it... and give them time to process and research, they're willing to help, they're heros after all

Heatwave

Secret softie? Secret softie

Walks around with you on his shoulders

Most likely to sneak you out at night

Least likely to ever actually be more than mildly annoyed

You're the exception to his "I don't want sticky kids climbing all over me" rule

100% would drive around with you in the drivers seat (He's driving not you dw)

Calls you Kiddo

Would 110% break his cover if you are in trouble (the one episode with Cody-)

Somehow the most affectionate? More than happy to keep you in his cab and let you babble to him 24/7

Blades

Poor anxious Blades is always worried about you. Did you regress due to overwhelming emotions? Are you scared? Did someone hurt you??? (You're usually perfectly fine)

Would not take you flying unless Dani was with him

Surprisingly, the most likely to scold someone harshly for hurting or scaring you

Least likely to let you do anything remotely dangerous

Carries a medical kit around just in case

Calls you 'the baby' affectionately

Chase

Rule maker and enforcer 🙄

If you have trouble falling asleep, he will drive around the tunnels with you in the back seat, talking to you or himself until you drift off to sleep

Most likely to give you educational worksheets

Least likely to give you candy or let you stay up at bedtime

Mostly refers to you as your name or sparkling but will sometimes call you little one

Gets overwhelmed and overstimulated really easily with kids, and doesn't have the most patience, but he's trying his best and his teammates step in before it gets too much

Boulder

Likes to take you out in nature, more than happy to sit in a field with you for hours

Master of snacks, always has something yummy if you're feeling peckish

Loves to paint with you, even if you're finger painting or getting paint on him

Most likely to have to have you change after an activity because of messes

Least likely to let you climb around inside or on him, there's alot of dangerous things both for yourself and other beings

Calls you Tiny

Divider 1 / Divider 2 / Yellow divider / green divider / blue divider / red divider / Fire symbol divider

[k1rameki]

yippee its that time again, long hc post about dalia YAY ‼️‼️ i wouldve posted this last week but a bitch has been busy working on otha projects yo 🫡🫡 im hustling atm

also i am on an absolute ROLL with these rn because its fun to hc stuff for my favs (WHICH BTW IM ALSO WRITING UP MY HCS FOR ALDRYX SO STAY TUNED FOR THAT >:3)

@beans2cheese ik youre currently lookin forward to this >:3 thank you for being patient w me its much appreciated ^_^

first and foremost we gotta get the neurodivergency outta the way bc my autistic ass loves making all my favourite characters nd,, also shes got social anxiety and depression bc i have social anxiety and depression ion make the rules

also bigender she/him dalia bc im a she/him pronoun using bigender and i said so

ive spoken about my deaf dalia hc before (AND CROW HAS A SIMILAR HC WITH TABI THAT WE TALKED ABOUT TOGETHER ON DISCORD) but turning off her hearing aid whenever noise is too overwhelming or whenever she cant be bothered to deal with people's bs

CRAZY HIGH SPICE TOLERANCE. she and ayana are the kinda people who eat ghost peppers for fun and feel literally nothing at all

chronically late to every single outing with his friends. like tell him to get there in an hour and she will use that time to nap and get ready five minutes before shes supposed to be there

taller than ayana but not by much, boots on, dalia's 5'10/11, without em then he's 5'7

competitive as fuck and will rage at you for screwing her over in board games or video games, expect to hear a plethora of curse words in both english and spanish

generally speaking too dalia has an incredibly short temper (which im pretty sure is canon???) and literally anything can set him off

she and aldryx are sparring buddies you cannot convince me otherwise, hes the one teaching dalia all these nifty tricks and such ^_^ (also shes a kickboxing pro no questions asked)

once dalia tried b-boying to impress ayana and ended up in the hospital with a dislocated shoulder and a bruised ego

🔻: "babe????? are you okay 😭"

🎧: "psshh im fine the sigma grind never dies" (said dalia as she looked away cringing at herself for flopping that so hard)

and trust me, nobody was letting her live that down

has special nicknames for all her loved ones ^_^ they're either something really sweet and sentimental or incredibly fucking stupid

emoticon user!! over text dalia loves using those cute kaomojis (trust me thats not the energy she gives off around other people especially not her close friends)

has a lot of niche interests and will reference something that either nobody knows like AT all or that is something so embarrassingly unfunny that its painful to listen to

🎧: "damn this greedler fanart goes crazy"

📼: "the WHO NOW"

she has the WORST sense of humor ever. literally anything is making this mf laugh

when dalia and ayana first started dating she made an attempt to keep up this persona of just being incredibly suave and chillgoing but the moment aya kissed her for the first time dalia just fucking melted and turned into a complete dweeb right then and there (she looks back on it and is very embarrassed)

OH AND SPEAKING OF HER AND AYA,, café or shopping dates where they just get food and wander around town together not wanting the day to end, bonus if they stay out late and theres a light display going on outside (boy im boutta make ship hcs for them now hold awn im insane)

[etrevil]

hey! Do you think that what will happen in meursault will go different than the anime?? Like what happens with soukoku? Whether chuuya is a vamp or not? Or Dazai is alive? Because as far as I remember Fyodor's hand was not injured in the manga like in the anime.....so does this mean something different will take place? So far it has been same...sorry to disturb you, I'm actually very anxious since I love soukoku, Dazai and chuuya very much..

Don't apologize for asking! Now this got my brain cogs turning ahhhhh

Do I think something different will happen? Yeah definitely, firstly because of that good point you brought up about Fyodor's hand, but also because I think Asagiri would do more with the story they currently have than rush it like in the anime. I feel like chapter 110.5 was meant to set suspense, letting the readers think it'll follow the anime but suddenly take a huuuuuge U-turn in something else.

Would absolutely love that actually, no matter how anxious and fearful it makes me.

Now onto the matter of Dazai being alive-

De-Nile is a river in Egypt 🥲

Okay jokes aside I'm seriously grasping onto the fact Dazai was able to speak a few more words after being shot point blank by Chuuya as a HINT he's not yet dead. Very, very, very badly wounded; yes. But not dead, also because I don't think (or wanna think) that Asagiri would end his character off like that.

This can be the same said with Fyodor. Him dying before we even know some of his past? The specifics of his ability? Seems very unlikely, so I'm somewhat convinced he'll be fine and won't have a helicopter accident like his anime counterpart.

Sigma, I wanna talk about him for a moment. I SINCERELY wish Asagiri is going to bring him back soon. I'm semi-believing that he just got knocked out by the overwhelming amount of info he got from Fyodor, cause if he actually did die by C&P, I reckon it'd be a more bloody scene than just his white-eyed stare in that one panel.

Chuuya? In the manga at least, I don't think he's faking the fact he's a vampire. I could believe it in the anime, but with the manga and extra details we have, I'm more inclined to think Chuuya's under the vampirism but he's like, not under its actual control. The scenes where he looked out of breath and where his dark-vampire eyes paled (and his reaction after shooting Dazai, doesn't seem very "hey I'm under mind control I have no free will" of him) have me considering that he's able to override the mind-control effects cause. Seriously tho. Chuuya has a god 24/7 inside of him. Yeah, Arahabaki is probably just a mass of energy and isn't likely to be a voice in Chuuya's head that sasses him, but years handling that sort of mental weight has got to give him an advantage.

-or so I'd like to think. I'm all hypothetical and guessing in my answers btw. Asagiri is writing such a story that so many events can happen that the story itself has its own parallel universe. I can't fathom what they have planned.

Excited for next month tho yeahhhhhh ✨

(also I firmly believe skk has got this in the bag for the simple reason of, the light novels. Shit went down but they got each other 😭)

tl;dr - I do think Asagiri is taking the manga down a different route. Also Sigma lives. And Chuuya's probably an actual vampire but he's not under the mind control thing. Take it with a grain of salt.

[dimensionalspades]

@apoapsis said: ".... I know you have feelings. Feelings that make you so sad-- that make you just want to give up. That is not your fault." [Sigma comforting a stressed and lonely Jack?? U KNOW Sigma's gonna hold him]

- eeaao || accepting -

. A part of him froze at that, the rest forced him to hide that flash of vulnerability that threatened to choke him. The nightmare still clung to him, even if he was already forgetting most of the details within it.

. He remembered pulling a dead man out of rubble thinking he could still hear him crying for help, pushing someone through a doorway before it collapsed, hearing himself giving directives, feeling the floor give way. He was going to die, he was going to die, and did he deserve it? The month after the explosion still came up empty- flashes of his unrecognizable face in the mirror as he tried to stem the bleeding, his eyes just a little too dark, his hair the wrong color, his teeth coated in red- stitching torn flesh and desperately trying to keep his hand steady.

. It was his face, right?

. Back channels and social medias checked, looking in on what had become of those he'd loved. Faces came with names, trying to pair them, trying to remember people as they'd been, recovering fragments of memories and relationships; they all felt like strangers- he knew a face, but behind it was a blank.

. How pathetic he felt when it all surfaced and bled into the waking world- even worse when it was in the presence of another. Few had seen him in this state, and the eyes of someone else on him while that sinking pit in his chest threatened to swallow him up only made him more acutely aware of the weight on him that threatened to crack his spine. Everything felt fragile, so impossibly brittle.

. Arms encircling him broke that miserable reverie, a hand clutching one arm in a vise-like grip. It felt like if the doctor let go, he'd break into a thousand pieces. His breathing was deep and nearly labored, eyes fixated ahead as he fought to keep his composure despite the overwhelming tide.

. He'd thought of it often- giving up. How many times had he barely felt human, barely alive and just existing in a constant state of running, fighting, soldiering on despite the crushing weight of his failure? He remembered laughing at the thought of retirement when he was still at the top of the world. It'd seemed so silly. Why would he ever want to stop being a 'Hero'.

. He wanted to speak, tell Sigma he couldn't give up- the options were this or death, and he only accept this because death terrified him. But, oh, god, he wanted to lay down sometimes, to accept what had been done and that it would never change.

. But, like many others broken by the destruction of Overwatch, he refused. He kept going, searching for answers.

. Gods, but there were so many better options. He could return to the new Overwatch, accept their righteous ire, and go from there. No apology would feel like enough, but wasn't it worth it to try, to give them that option? Every time he came close, he was overwhelmed by what came with that, and, like a selfish coward, he hid again.

. For now, this was the way forward.

. He finally relaxed against Sigma, adrenaline dissipating slowly.

. "Sorry," he mumbled tiredly, head falling against Sigma's shoulder as the rest of his body seemed to follow suit. His tablet nearby read 03:45. He exhaled, turning enough that he could lay against Sigma's side with one arm thrown across his chest. "Thanks," he murmured tiredly against the man's shoulder. "Just need... it'll be fine."

[tlacehualli]

@apoapsis

                   It’s actually quite bewildering, to open his door and see her and her little troupe bogged down by a curious ensemble of…. food…?She had all of this made for him? He watches, visibly stunned, as his little friend marches past him, followed by an additional duo of the general backfill TALON grunts that often scurried around the facility.

“– This is too much…!“ SIGMA insists bashfully– however, he’s very enticed by the inviting aromas that quickly fill his senses after all of the food has been set upon his little work station, floating over to Sombra with a sheepish smile on his face. He’s…a very bad friend for assuming she had forgotten him– especially when she explains how long it took her, how difficult it was. No, he really doesn’t deserve any of it, but it’s too appetizing to refuse. And here he was, demanding her to further acknowledge him! So ungrateful! “– No, no… It’s– I-I should be more patient with you– I should have known you wouldn’t forget…”  He admits guiltily, holding his cupped hands out to her before he opens them as if presenting a great treasure to her, the purple, glass-like bracelet glinting sleekly in the fluorescent lighting of his overhead lights as it refracts off of the approximation of her little insignias.

“I…. Really just wanted to give this to you– I… I feel a little silly, now…“

                         But that’s fine; when isn’t he making a fool of himself…?  “–…. You madean ASTRONOMICAL amount of food! I… cannot believe this is just for me! Thank you so much! I am aware I say this… painfully often– but I am convinced that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me since leaving that awful facility…! Just when I think you could not possibly be any more comforting than you already are… nope! You simply exceed expectation!“

“…. M-may– ah… May I… have a hug, Miss Sombra…?“

Sombra laughs - generally she would have been a little insulted at the idea of someone thinking she could even forget stuff when she'd gotten metal drilled into her skull about it but, well, Sigma was Sigma and he was a tender thing. "Ah, no te preocupes, it's fine honestly. My family always made a big deal over people's birthdays so I tend to go a littleeee overboard…" She was a little bashful but laughed again regardless as she looked over all the damn food.

She's got like no make up on and she smells like she's been frying guajillos in a pan (like sharp, acid, capsaicin) and she's half certain her hair looks absolutely ridiculous from the sweating and all of that but it all kind of falls away when she actually really starts to process him and the little treasure he's holding in his hands so tenderly. Her smile is something really soft and fond as she takes it from him, letting out a little breath at the details of it - the vivid shade of purple she was so fond of, the approximation of her ASCII skull insignias like little crystals. It was a gorgeous thing and so clearly inspired by her.

She wasn't used to being seen.

"Mierda. Viejito, you're like aware that we're supposed to be getting you stuff on your birthday, right?" Her voice was tender and she was furiously wiping away at her eyes (and maybe it was a good thing she'd had like, no time to do her make up anyway cause it would have been everywhere by now) and if anybody asked her, she was not fucking crying. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Rather than try and reply to the emotional overture from her viejito, Sombra just obliged and gave him a big hug (after she'd slipped the pretty little treasure onto her wrist, she was keeping that and bragging to everybody). It was definitely a funny thing given that she was damn near two feet shorter than him and still definitely not teary eyed in any way and overwhelmed and if someone took a picture of them in that moment, it would have been comedy.

"You better let me have some too, the fuck." Her voice was a little hoarse and she was still definitely not fucking crying god damn it, but there was levity in it as there usually was when she was trying to cut through tension. She pulled away and gave him a big smile. "I hope you like it! I tried not to make it too spicy but if it is, some crema will fix it right up."

[sunset-colaa]

With a reader who has social anxiety

Sigma, Fyodor, Tecchou

SIGMA

Sigma knew right away.

As someone who is also constantly worried about what other people think of him, he can empathize with how you're feeling.

He sees how much of yourself you've hidden away, and feels disheartened that other people make you feel that way.

From that moment, Sigma starts helping you and tries to make your worries fade away, so that you'd be able to express yourself without having to fear what other people think.

He feels glad and honored that you trust him enough to be yourself around him, and enjoys learning more about you and your hobbies.

Whenever you talk about them, he listens intently and also tries to learn more about them on his own, so that he'd be able to understand your experiences and relate to what you're sharing with him.

Also, whenever you seem like you want to share these parts of you with others but is held back by your worries, Sigma supports you and reassures you that no one would think badly of you. He says you might even find out that someone you know shares the same hobbies and interests.

He also tells you that connecting with others would make you familiar to each other, and this would make them see you in a kinder, more understanding light.

Sigma also starts making sure social settings are more comfortable for you, and tries to create an environment in which you don't have to worry about what others think and can be yourself.

“I understand how you feel, and I promise that I'll always be here to support you.”

FYODOR

Fyodor figured you were hiding a lot of things about yourself in fear of being judged.

He might come across as cold and standoffish at times, but he cares about your wellbeing as thus decided to help you overcome your struggles.

Although this does not apply to him, he's aware that voicing one's thoughts and worries can help relieve their anxiety, so he starts by telling you that he's willing to lend an ear if you want to talk about what you're feeling.

If you do decide to share, he tries to keep your fears and negative thoughts from escalating and overwhelming you by providing counterarguments for them.

If you're worried about what others will think, he'd remind you that people usually focus on themselves more than others and years from now, will not remember any small mishaps that might occur.

He subtly encourages you to be yourself and not hold yourself back. He tells that you do not need to worry about what others think, because you are living your life and you should be happy with or without their validation.

“You’re perfectly fine the way you are. A small mishap won’t make people think less of you, because you’re truly an amazing individual.”

TECCHOU

When you were close enough to reveal your secret hobbies and the hidden sides of your personality, Tecchou was a little surprised.

Who knew you were hiding these parts of yourself?

He was glad to have your trust, but wondered why you were keeping these parts of you secret.

When he finally figured it out, he promised to help you overcome your anxiety and aid you in breaking through these inhibitions.

He just thinks you would be happier if you were freely able to express yourself and share your hobbies with others, so this is what he starts with.

Whenever you're restricting yourself as a result of your worries, he's quick to reassure you that you will not be judged by other people for who you are and for the things you enjoy.

Tecchou reminds you that life is short, precious, and you have to live every moment without stressing over what others think.

He just wants to make sure you're living as you please, free and unburdened by fears of other people seeing you in a bad light.

He also encourages you to be more open, helping you over time until you can talk to others freely about your hobbies and the things you like.

Tecchou also tries to help alleviate your anxiety by pointing out what he likes about your personality and hobbies, as he's sure others share his thoughts about them.

"I like those parts of you. To me, you're fun, amazing, and I'm sure others think the same."

© 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓-𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐀 2022 ; 𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒

[angolicious]

omg i love your aftercare hcs sm, writers rarely put the characters on the receiving hand when it’s so important !!! could you also do ones for sigma Nikolai and ranpo pls ?

Ya’ll really love this man- Huh? Anywho-

=====================================

Sigma

========================================

I imagine sigma’s hair gets in the way a lot during sex. I mean- have you seen it? There’s so much of it… and i just know it’s everywhere all the time.

I imagine it would be in your best interest to have it pulled back for him during the actual deed- that way it just stays out of the way for the both of you, and gives you optimal movement, and in this case (the case of you topping.) it gives him optimal pleasure.

Of course this leads me to say, imagine how sweet it would be, reaching up to gently pull the hair tie from his long silky hair after the fact, and pause to run your fingers gently through his now slightly tangled locks as he flops back into the pillow below you.

I 100% believe that sigma is the type to get incredibly embarrassed after sex. Despite this… sigma is also the type to be overwhelmed with incredible sensations of love in his post nut clarity.

He is… absolutely enamored with you.

You add soft aftercare to the end of that? Man is WHOOPED. You’re never getting rid of him.

I imagine sigma LOVES getting his hair played with after sex.

He’s exhausted, red faced, and whimpering slightly as he comes down from the high you just gave him, but all of that embarrassed tension seems to gradually leave his body as you run your nails along his scalp.

Please please god praise him. Sigma needs praise to survive. His personal favorites are probably consistent of-

“My sweet baby….”

“You did so good for me…”

“Come here baby, such a good boy…”

It just makes him feel so loved, and wanted, and appreciated.

He’s quick to curl up on your chest, resting his head on your collar bone and curling into your form. He closes his eyes and just allows you to softly coo to him as you stroke his hair.

Help him clean up- and wipe up the ‘mess’ if you get my drift. (In the cases where you didn’t swallow it…)

When you swipe that warm rag along his inner thighs, he might jerk from overstimulation, and Yelp slightly.

Just keep praising him. He’ll be fine.

=====================================

Nikolai

=====================================

First of all- HOW did you get this man to bottom. Like literally how- i imagine he’s up there on the list of people who are like- impossible to top.

It’s not that i think he doesn’t want to. Somewhere deep down inside Nikolai longs to be taken care of like that- that’s just overshadowed by the fear of that feeling of empty rejection if that care isn’t shown when he gives up control. That and… being free is literally Nikolai’s whole thing. That’d look really bad for his reputation.

But somehow- somehow you did it. Congratulations you fucking did it. I imagine you have to try multiple times. Nikolai is a SHIFTY little bastard. He isn’t gonna take normal dominant approaches.

I imagine you literally try to pin him down to the bed one time and you get a shocked little

“OH!” Out of him, followed by furious giggles as he gleefully returns your kiss.

“Y/n! That’s so forward of you! You make me laugh! If you wanted me to fuck you-“

Suddenly, the clown has disappeared into his cape, and just like that… is gone into the mattress.

Until of course- there’s a gloved hand on the back of your neck, pressing your face into the mattress, and his gleeful voice is whispering into your ear.

“All you had to do was ask….”

In theory it’s a win because you get your lights fucked out. But- it’s also a huge loss because you completely failed at topping Nikolai in under seconds.

But- LIGHTBULB! It’s because Nikolai requires a different approach. Don’t be aggressive with him! Ease him into it- gently.

You made this connection one night while you were rubbing his shoulders. You had simply walked up behind him while he was sitting at the dinner table, and slid your hands up over his shoulders, providing a deep pressure right by his neck.

And oh god… the noise he made was ✨divine✨

And that was when it clicked… it all came together like a light bulb… and you understood!

Lean down and gently ask him…. “Did that feel good… Nikolai?”

Now, by all means, when topping Nikolai… you have to be at least a little bit firm. Nikolai is a brat…. And it is of the utmost importance to tame him like the pretty little rope bunny he is. But degradation is a MAJOR no no, at least not anything to serious. Mild condescending remarks are fine, but above all, treat Nikolai with as much respect as you can, while still being firm.

That doesn’t mean you can’t be a little mean though… because… once Nikolai isn’t wearing his cape… there isn’t much he can do to stop you from overstimming the hell out of him. And- he doesn’t ever use the safe word so you know he’s into it.

Aftercare is important though. It’s SO SO important.

Nikolai has very sensitive ribs. It’s just a random little headcanon of mine. While it’s a great eroginous zone to get him going when you’re trying to start something, it’s also a great way to wind him down after the fact.

Gently trail your fingers up and down his rib cage as he’s panting, coming down from his high. I can assure you the first couple of times he’ll look like a deer in headlights, because he’s absolutely shocked he relinquished that control to you.

He’ll probably try to coyly take it back, by shakily offering you a turn beneath him. It’s perfectly fine to allow this, but on the nights when he really looks tired, or you know you’ve really done a number on him. Tell him no.

Remind him that you set aside a night just for him, and though he won’t mention it at that moment, it makes his heart flutter uncontrollably.

Nikolai likes to sleep next to you, rather than on top of you. He curles his body into your side, and rests his head on your shoulder. He typically loves when you rub up and down his side at this point, gently stroking up and down his rib cage.

Drag your touch from the top of his rib cage, alllll the way down to his hip and back up again.

He lets out a little pleasured giggle that turns into a moan, and then a sleepy yawn.

If you sing to him…. Ur done for.

He is DEFINITEFLY more clingy the next day. All over you. So many hugs… and he spins you around so much. Reciprocate, and smile at him, tell him how much you love him. That is equally as much part of the aftercare as the night before.

=====================================

Ranpo

=====================================

PILLOW PRINCESS.

WHINEY. BRATTY. LITTLE BITCH.

He may be bottoming but honestly who’s the one who’s really his bitch. You! You are. You are ranpo’s bitch and the world revolves around him.

Don’t let it stay that way. He’ll try to tell you what to do even when he’s beneath him. Please- please suck the SOUL out of that man.

Literally fuck him until he’s dry, gasping for breath, with tears streaming down his face as you bounce up and down on his cock, and he’s practically begging you to stop because the overstim practically aches at this point. Suck his pretty little cock until his hips are bucking into your mouth, and he’s screaming your name.

You’re in charge. By all means. Remind him of that. He needs a little bit of humility in his life.

But do NOT. And i repeat. Do NOT leave him hanging afterwards. You can degrade him, and overstim him, and torture him all you want during the act. But if you leave that baby laying there all alone afterwards… you are a monster.

Ranpo loves the way you always make sure to kiss him after sex. The kisses you give him after he orgasms are long, and deep, and sweet, and filled with so much more love then lust. He returns them desperately, even though his weak little body shakes in your grasp.

Don’t turn off all the lights, as ranpo can’t sleep with all the lights off. But turn off as many as you can. Make sure the room is nice and cool, and the pillows are fluffed. Clean him up because we all know by the time you’re done with him he won’t be able to move to do it himself.

I imagine gently stroking some of ranpo’s hair, sticking to his forehead with sweat, out of the way so that you can press tender loving kisses across his temple. Praising him all the while.

Rub his back when he finally curls up in your arms. I can promise you he is EXHAUSTED. He’s too tired to even request snacks… and if that’s not crazy i don’t know what is.

You’ll feel him relax slightly into your shoulder when you rub his back, and it won’t be long before his typical whiney self starts showing again.

“Y/n….. rub up higher! I don’t like it thereeee- scratch between my shoulder blades… please- Mm! Ah~”

“Right there… is that where you like it…?”

“Ah~ ah- Mhm-“

Once you find the right spot, he’ll typically drift off pretty quick in your arms, twitching slightly when you hit a spot that really feels good.

Make him breakfast in the morning, and a cup of tea- with how things went the night before…? His throat will probably hurt.

He’ll Wanna eat breakfast in bed. That way he can keep his head rested on your shoulder. Please grant him that.

Because…. 9 times out of ten. He’s gonna complain that his arms are tired from the ropes and you’re gonna have to hand feed him.

If ya give a mouse a cookie- it’s gonna want some fucking milk i guess.

(If you get that reference you’re a god.)

=====================================

[ellsbclls]

" wow... you look... you look amazing. " for peter please? i love love love ur writing btw!

NOTE: This... ended up so embarrassingly long... i don't even know what the word count is, but i can bet it's a good 20%-30% longer than the average blurb.

WARNINGS: cursing, quirky🤪 mentions of drug use, implied making out (but can be perceived as sex, dear god please don’t perceive it as sex though), and some good ol’ fashion stark!ready x peter parker banter

They say, "never meet your heroes." Well, Peter wished he had adhered to that warning before he ended up here — a lanky, overdressed thumb towering high above the roof of the Avenger's Compound.

A semi-annual assembly of New York City's finest heroes that had little to do with their civic duties, and much to do with their inhibitions, and just how much alcohol it would take to release them — but there was one glaring problem.

Peter didn't drink.

He never saw the allure, especially when it came at such a high risk. He'd convinced himself that he refrained for the sake of Aunt May, the only remaining part of his family who put her life on the line to ensure his safety and overall well-being — the Spider-Man reveal already took some getting used to, he didn't need to add drunken night expenditures to her overnight fretting. Yet, when Flash's 'End of the Year' party had been raided by the police, a small part of him found joy in knowing he needn't fear the police or their breathalyzer test, even if he was deemed Pussy Parker for the remainder of that summer.

Even if he wanted to instill some liquid courage into himself, he hadn't the basic courage to let himself be vulnerable like that, in front of all the adults that made up the Avengers. Mr.Stark had already commented on his only suit, and how small he looked as it swamped his form, and the entire altercation made him wish the roof would just open up and swallow him whole.

Bullies, you'd call them.

There they were, New York's finest Defender's, huddled around the Mastrangelo like it couldn't put their entire life savings to shame, hosting a rousing game of beer pong upon its marble exterior. Your father was lucky your mother was still in Milan, tying up loose ends on a new line of bullshit you didn't concern yourself with. You just counted the days until she returned home, and you could soak up every ounce of her nurturing presence.

God, did you miss her.

It’s not like your father wasn’t just as nurturing, competitively so, to a point were you almost felt smothered — but you were too alike. In spaces where you both held too stubborn, your mother was there to mediate, and with ceaseless barrages of dry humor came her firm, unwavering severity, proving her love with candid remarks instead of jesting quips.

“Oh, free intern!” He dragged you from your nostalgic supercut with your endearing nickname, coaxing a fierce glare from your hues. “Run down to that place on 7th street and get some beer? And not that Miller Coor’s Bud bullshit, the upper echelon on Sigma Delta Nu delicacies.”

Jesus Christ.

You had caught glimpses of his argument with Steve, complaining about how stupid it would be to pour anything top shelf into a red solo cup — blasphemous really — but you didn’t expect him to do anything more than concede.

"Father of the year, everybody." You clapped just above your head, prompting the remaining company to join you. "I think you're forgetting that I'm not twenty-one."

"First and foremost, I know I am," Tony counters your triumphant grin with a sarcastic one. "Which is how I know that your fake ID says 21."

"Stark, it's fine. I can grab the beer," You thanked God and her impeccable timing once Steve interrupted, settling himself between the two of you with outstretched palms. "I could use the fresh air anyway."

You mimicked Steve's stance, cocking your brows toward your father. "See? Problem solved. Now leave me alone."

Losing interest in the company exponentially, you started to retreat, but groaned once your father's voice pierced the air again. "Nuh-uh-uh, Rogers. Why? So you can go to the nearest GNC and snort a container of protein powder? I don't think so."

You retreat to the furthest recesses of your mind as Tony and Steve bicker back and forth about honesty and friendly competition. Steve wouldn't know how to bump a rail if the U.S Army assembled a thorough, interactive training course on it, and his age quadrupled the life expectancy of most snow-packed socialites. Yet, on the other hand, you were shocked that your father even knew what a GNC was — ultimately, you were riled from your thoughts by an irksome realization.

"Are you fucking- Why can't old man Jenkins do it?" you gestured wildly toward the enhanced super soldier in question, blind to the obvious offense scrawled across his features. You seldom took your opulent lineage for granted, but when situations such as these presented themself, a selfish corner of your mind wondered what it would be like to have a run-of-the mill, cheesy-pun equipped, golf short wearing father. "You'd rather risk your daughter's own safety, and the sanctity of her criminal record, for a stupid game of beer pong?"

Natasha's incredulous laughter chimed between your incessant back and forth, spurred by the uncanny resemblance you and your father shared between every aspect imaginable — your dry wit just so happened to be in the spotlight.

"Yes," He didn't bother to meet your glare, already familiar with its scorching beam against the side of his face "Yes I would."

Hues practically rolled into the back of your skull, exaggerating your every move to a thespian level to make it clear, to even the boniest of heads, that you didn't take pleasure in this task. You were so excited to finally unwind at this event — slam down the sugary mocktail your Uncle Thor always "forgot" to order virgin, dangle your feet over the shallow end of the pool, maybe even shoot a few low jests at Bucky if there wasn't a carnal gleam in his eyes.

Your thrilling plans were now put on hold just to support your father's mid-life crisis.

"I know, I know." He tried to repeat the name of the wine stop n’ shop, only for you to wave him off. He wasn’t wrong — you had been abusing your fake ID in that very stop n’ shop for years, though you’ve recently come to the conclusion that the cashier was far more interested in your chest than your credentials. "If I get arrested, I'm bring you down with me. I'll tell Business Insider that FRIDAY's just one, big elaborate ruse for the underground Fake ID business you have on the side. They'll eat it up like-"

"Love you, honey! I'll venmo you!" He butt in, sending you off with a wave of his fingers.

You flipped him off, shouting an earnest 'I love you' in return. There was no denying that you loved each other, some would even argue that he loved you more than he loved himself — you just chose to show it in your own, eccentric way.

Mere seconds into your newfound task, you stopped dead in your tracks. You could make out that bed of chestnut locks anywhere.

"Parker?" Swiftly surveying his frumpy attire, you struggled to stifle the upward tilt of your lips. Even as he stood uncomfortably before you, visibly seconds away from crawling out of his own skin, he still managed to be the sweet, endearing Peter you knew and loved. "God, I didn't even realize that was you."

You didn't have the heart to tell him that you caught one fleeting glimpse of him at the very beginning of the festivities and thought he was a part of the catering company, nor did you feel a need to disclose the snide remark you whispered into your father's ear about the miserable staff. There was no sense in kicking a dead horse while it was already down.

His gaze weighed heavy against your frame, though, bolstered by an overwhelming intensity that forced you to wonder if he could read your mind. Though, if you could tap into his thoughts, you'd be shocked to find a reflection of your own — bewilderment, adoration, the tell-tale signs of a burgeoning crush, and the myriad of excuses that disputed them.

He could only manage to stumble over his words, complimenting you with sentiments that could never amount to the emotions welling in his chest. "Wow... you look... you look amazing."

And you couldn't argue, not with the way you were pampered hours prior. Mercier had smothered your hair in this honey-infused serum that made your curls bounce to life with each step, and the custom Jacquemus silhouette you were sporting hugged every ample curve enticingly so. You felt like a million bucks, and you probably cost that much give or take, so why deny it?

Peter, on the other hand — Well, he was very lucky that he was so cute, and his jawline could probably cut Vision's infinity stone straight out of his skull. It almost made up for the tragic shape of his suit, and just how tragically out of place it was at this event.

"You look, um-" Softness tugged at the corner of your eyes as they crinkled dotingly. "You look very cute."

"That was a very convincing half-truth." He chuckled, a subtle pink hue blooming over the valleys of his cheeks."

"Oh, so a part of you knows you're cute." You teased, enjoying the way the pink hue grew deeper.

"Oh! Oh, no... No, I mean, kind of? On the scale of confident perspectives, I think-uh-cute... Cute is on the lower end? And you know what? My Aunt May-"

"Peter, you wanna get out of here?" You interrupted him, hoping to save him from all the words he had yet to stumble over. "And then immediately come back?"

"Yeah," He vigorously nodded his head, despite being equally as confused. "Yeah, I'd like that a lot."

"Come," You offered your hand, a small gesture the two of you have woven into your complicated relationship. 

You'd tend to straddle a very thin line between friendship and something more, reaping all the warm, tentative affections of newfound lovers without explicitly considering yourselves so. The both of you, for as brilliant as your merits show, continued to convince yourselves that the hand holding, the comfortable silences, the mornings plastered against each other's sides, were simply happenstance. Despite the increasing willingness of each encounter, you'd only ever chalk it up to chance. So when you offered your hand out to him, he took it in stride — because the two of you would indulge in every ounce of attention you could get your hands on, at least until one of you inevitably came to your senses and found someone worth your time.

Your fingers were firmly intertwined as you led him to the roof’s exit, tugging him down the staircase and through the vacant halls of the top floor just in time to catch the elevator. You found no reason to keep his hand hostage once you were inside, so you begrudgingly retracted yours. You swore you could hear a pitiful huff come from his side of the elevator, but you chalked it up to wishful thinking. 

Now it was just you and Peter, left to your own devices, and roughly ninety-two floors away from your destination. Just enough time to do what you were aching to do.

“Peter,” You murmured, and his gaze flickered to your own without a moment of hesitation, drenched in a hopeful haze you failed to decipher.

“Y/N?” He echoed, tilting his body toward your own.

“You look...” You paused, unsure of which word accurately portrayed your thoughts. ”insane.”

“I know.” He whined. You tried to stifle the giggle that bubbled at his hopeless demeanor, brows furrowed together as he squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders slumped impossible low.

“It’s a good thing you have such a charitable friend.” And you made light work of his suit jacket, the air suddenly rapt with a thick air of electricity as you worked the offending article off his shoulders, haphazardly tossing it on the ground. Protests formed on the tip of his tongue, but he opted to swallow them in return for your help, going slack when you ran your fingers through his meticulously gelled hair.

Though he embodied the vision of a suave, debonair socialite alarmingly well, with his carefully quaffed locks, nothing suited him as well as the pillowy, fawn tendrils that made up his soft curls. You needed them back, needed a reminder of your sweet, darling boy, and patience was never your strong suit. 

You wondered if he was in need of the same reminder, seeing as he’d let you manhandle him without so much as a hum of discontent.

All done. Only a few revisions, and he was a completely different boy. Clad in a crisp, white shirt, sans its horrifying grey counterpart, you rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and unbuttoned the top three discs. The fabric was taut against his impressive set of muscles, leaving little to the imagination with each sweeping roll of his arms. You’d pat yourself on the back, but you were too busy drooling all over your work.

“Is- Is this good?” He broke the silence with a tentative query, peering back at you through his lashes.

"Yeah,” You voice came out strangled at best, distracted by the flurry of butterflies ravaging your stomach. There was something about this moment — maybe it was the glint of tenderness ridding his gaze, or your tight proximity, or maybe it was fate, finally persuading you to topple over that dangerous line — but regardless, you decided it was now or never. “but there's still something missing," 

“My jacket?” He breathlessly queried. His eyes frantically searched your face, like he couldn’t settle on just one feature to admire.

“No, no...” You breathed back, cautiously inching closer, until there was only a sliver of space separating your chests. "You need to loosen up, Parker."

“And what- What do you suggest I do?” His gaze flickered down to your lips shamelessly, and returned just as quickly. 

“Do you trust me?” 

“I’ve trusted you this far.”

“Good,” You sighed, your breath fanning over his lips before you greedily chased its warmth, kissing him with such feather-light pressure, it almost felt like a dream — a thrilling, delicate dream. You had to tear yourself from his lips before you delved even deeper, hoping to find a mirror image of your relief, your satisfaction, in his own features. However, before your eyes even fluttered open, his palms swept under the curve of your jaw, and coaxed your mouth back to his, instantly qualming any of your fears as you both melted into the exchange. He tasted of spearmint, and cherries, and something so intoxicatingly him that you could barely restrain yourself.

You wanted him, God, did you want him, and for the first time, someone wanted you just as much, without an ounce of greed to it — He wanted you for you.

The remaining seconds of the elevator ride were filled with fervent kisses, and wandering hands, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck while his bunched the silky fabric of your dress. It was all smitten, indulgent brushes of your lips until the elevator dinged, and the doors opened up to reveal the fashionably late, dynamic duo —Sam Wilson and James Buchanan Barnes.

Their expressions were nothing short of priceless, one complexion green while the other ran pale at the sight of your interwoven limbs. You tried to open your mouth before they could comment, but you were far too late, buried in a booming wall of—

"This is a public space! You are defiling a public space!"

"I can't do this— I'm gonna take the stairs."

Their voices weaved into a messy, irritated harmony of disbelief, managing to still complement each other despite their varying levels of urgency.

An idea, a selfish, evil idea, popped into your head, and you enacted it before you could even unravel yourself from Peter’s hold.

"You just reminded me, I was about to text you! My dad needs a couple cases of Yuengling.” You gestured for Peter to press on the “Open Door” button, and by the time he started clicking the prompt, you’d already fetched your wallet, fishing your card out for Sam. “They probably have some at the corner store, but he’ll throw up if he finds out he was drinking alcohol from the corner store, so you’re gonna have to walk down to that market on Seventh.” You could feel Peter’s perplexed gaze gnaw at your shoulder, but you persisted in your impish pursuits, shoving the AmEx into his hand. 

“Chop chop, lover boys!” You hastily snapped your fingers in his direction, and yelled just loud enough to make sure Bucky accompanied him, parsing their punishment out evenly. 

Served them right, encroaching on such a perfect moment. 

Bucky’s groan echoed through the stairwell, followed by a childish stomp of combat boots, and you were pleased enough to shoo Peter’s hand away, pressing the “Close Door” button.

Sometimes it was nice being Tony Stark’s daughter — less backtalk from the sovereign throne of comebackdom.

“I thought you said we were getting out of here.” His brows were pinched together, the most adorable little frown forming between them.

“Oh, we most certainly are,” You replied, pressing the button for your floor. You could tell that the pieces weren’t clicking all the way, and you proceeded to spell it out for him, dropping a chaste kiss to the spot just below his ear. “We’re gonna go to my room. And then we’re gonna go right back to the party when we’re done.”

“When we’re done?” He mused, voice wavering beneath the soft caress of your lips, scattering even more tentative kisses down the column of his neck.

“When we’re done.” You parroted back, meeting his downward gaze through your lashes.”I think you still have some loosening up to do.”

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: Pre-ChuuRanPoe (Ranpo caught feelings), Pre-Kousano (Yosano likes Kouyou)

Word Count: 1,115 Words

Summary: Ranpo brings an extra friend back from the DOA safehouse.

Warnings: Age Regression, Amnesia Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Translations: Ya ne pomnyu.: I can't remember. [Russian]; Ya lyublyu vas!: I love you! [Russian]

Notes: We’re just gonna pretend I posted this yesterday, cool? Cool. (I was tired as hell and worked all day yesterday but I don’t want to wait until next Wednesday to post this chapter.)

How Poe Stumped Ranpo: Chapter 23

"I brought two friends back." Ranpo announced, showing off Arkady as he came back, dragging Ivan after him.

"Arkady!" Nikolai squealed, bounding happily and grabbed for the bear as Ranpo happily held her out for him. He also dragged Ivan down onto the bed.

"I also brought the box for you, Sigma." Ranpo handed over the box to the bi-colored man.

"Thank you." Sigma sighed, watching Ivan manage to sit up and laughing at Nikolai forcefully trying to get him back down. Ranpo smiled but went to work again across the hall.

"How is Master?" Ivan asked Sigma.

"He has amnesia." Sigma was quieter discussing it, handing Nikolai one of the pacifiers from within the box and letting the clingy clown continue to drape against them both for attention.

"Amnesia?" Ivan asked, looking at Fyodor in the other bed.

"No memory at all, he had to be retaught the alphabet." Sigma told him.

"None at all?" Ivan asked.

"Not that anyone's aware of." Sigma sighed.

"Friend." Fyodor greeted him, gaining Yosano's attention now.

"Me?" Ivan asked.

"I know you." Yosano watched between them now, confused. He remembered someone?

"Do you know my name?" Ivan asked, moving to Fyodor's bed. Fyodor thought for a minute and shook his head.

"But I know you!" Fyodor was joyous regardless.

"I'm Ivan, remember?" Fyodor tilted his head.

"Ivan." Fyodor repeated.

"Yes, Ivan Goncharov."

"Ya ne pomnyu." Fyodor muttered, going back to his drawing.

"He remembers Russian?" Yosano asked.

"It seems like it." Sigma told her.

"Is he getting memory back or is he just getting specific things?" Yosano muttered, writing it down in her chart for Fyodor.

"Well, he doesn't remember me fully." Ivan told her.

"Fyodor." She called his attention.

"Mama?" He asked back.

"How do you say 'I love you' in Russian?"

"Ya lyublyu vas!" Fyodor announced happily.

"Can you name your friends?"

"Sigma, Kolya, Vanya, and Tatya!"

"Vanya and Tatya. He remembers those? He said it maybe once." Sigma asked Ivan.

"It was a joke because me and Tatsuhiko were complaining that Nikolai got a nickname." Ivan reminded him.

"So he is remembering things?" She asked.

"Little things." Sigma told her.

"So, if we remind him enough, he might remember?" Ivan asked.

"I'd do it slowly, don't stress him. He's been through a lot, it might be repression instead of amnesia and we don't want to overwhelm him with remembering things too quickly."

"Mama, my pink one broke!" Fyodor complained.

"Okay, honey." She assured him, handing him a new pink crayon.

"As for you, I sent Tatsuhiko to take care of the Sky Casino the second I heard you went missing, he and I have been making sure everything's taken care of." Ivan assured Sigma.

"Oh thank god, I was so worried that the group managers might have been working overtime two and a half weeks now keeping everything in line." Sigma deflated.

"No, they're fine." Ivan assured.

"And Tatsuhiko's fine? You're okay?" Sigma asked.

"We're both fine. Taking turns and all. I've been taking nights, Tatsuhiko's managing days."

"I hear work talk around healing patients. You'd better not be stressing him to go back to work or I'll have Ranpo take you back to that safehouse." Yosano warned.

"No, it's okay. It's a relief, actually." Nikolai butted his head against Sigma's neck to cuddle and the two-tone rolled his eyes but let him paw his way back into his arms.

"Okay. I better not hear anyone hurrying to go back to work then." Yosano warned.

"Oh, Nikolai's job." Ivan looked to the albino looking up at him, gears seeming to turn like he was trying to age up to take the news.

"Tonan?" Nikolai asked.

"He did fire you, he called saying that a couple days after you went missing. Too many absences and he couldn't just wait for you to come back." Ivan explained.

"Figures." Nikolai huffed, deciding to lay on the blankets and hide in them to sleep again.

"Pushkin also left back to Russia when he heard you all went missing. Mushitaro is...somewhere, he left while I was sleeping a few days ago." Sigma didn't like this. Mushitaro had never disappeared. Or, maybe he thought they'd died, Sigma would too if three of his colleagues disappeared all of a sudden.

"He might come back once I'm better and can go back to the Sky Casino. I'm sure the guests will spread that news like wildfire."

"Well, it took maybe four hours being open the day after you went missing for guests to figure out you weren't there. It'll probably take less for them to figure out you're back. The staff plans to throw a party when you come back, but don't tell them I told you. You're kind of flashy, after all."

"Yes, I know. Still can't tell what's so flashy about me when I'm just average."

"It's the hair." Nikolai told him from his muffled place under the blanket.

"Yep, definitely the hair." Ivan patted his head. Sigma flinched away from it.

"Sorry, just...I hate these reactions, I really do. It's worse than last time." Sigma growled mostly to himself.

"It's fine, getting better is a process. You being healed isn't all you need to do in order to get better, Sigya, you need to make sure you're okay up here too." Ivan poked his forehead.

"I know. Like I didn't have enough anxiety before." He sighed, joining Nikolai under his blanket.

"Well, it's probably little help to your anxiety, but Tatya said he'll visit tonight, make sure you three are okay himself."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Tatya." Fyodor quietly repeated, going about his workbook still without a single care.

"I have to sleep."

"Sleep here." Nikolai whined, dragging him down.

"I need to be up at nine." Ivan warned.

"I can make sure of that." Yosano told him.

"Fine, you get me for a few more hours." Ivan laid with the two.

"Give me my phone, I assume you brought it."

"Yes, you workaholic, I brought it." Ivan handed him the device.

"No working from a hospital bed." Yosano demanded.

"I'm not. I can't really, my job is too much to do remotely. I'm just telling Tatsuhiko to bring something with him." Sigma told her as he texted Tatsuhiko.

"What are you asking for?"

"My nail stuff. I want to do them. At least then, I'm doing something, not bored." He told him.

"You're a menace. Don't let Nikolai have daggers again, I still have scars from last time when he got panicked and scratched me."

"Request considered but unlikely." Sigma smiled. Ivan eventually fell asleep against Nikolai, the other snuggled up against him also asleep, while Sigma watched over them both.

[samirant]

Getting this juuuuust under the wire. HAPPY BIRTHDAY @naomignome!!!

Day 621

At the newest round of giggles down the hall, Brienne took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was the Thorn President-Elect, not their den mother. Their quiet study area on the second floor of the house, once filled end to end with studious sisters, had dwindled down to only her and a few others. Truth be told, Brienne was done with her exams, but was sticking around until their last member was finished, just in case of last minute nerves.

Most everyone else was packing up and blowing off steam. And giggling. A lot.

“Brienne,” someone hissed from down the hall. “Come look!”

She reluctantly got up, cast a glance around the room and decided that if they needed her, she wouldn’t be far. And if she was able to clear out the noisemakers? Bonus.

Elinor grabbed her hand once she came into view and pulled her to the front window. “Some Sigma got strapped in!” she gleefully reported.

“Really?” Brienne drew up to the glass and craned to see down the block, where a herd of guys in red shirts was lugging an item - well, a person - between them. She’d seen it a few times over the last couple of years, but while it was a… celebration of sorts, it wasn’t a dignified one.

Jaime and his cohorts had insisted it was a cherished tradition, but Brienne always thought it was a little mean to duct tape a newly engaged man to a slab of lumber and then cart him around campus before delivering him to his intended.

Okay, so it was a little funny.

Still mean, though.

Curious, Brienne squinted at the crowd of men and asked, “Who is it?”

“Can’t tell yet,” Meera replied. “Did you hear of anyone planning to pop the question?”

There was a chorus of no idea and I don’t think so’s and Myranda sniggered something about someone managing to get their MRS degree right under the wire. It was perhaps unkind to agree with her, but Brienne had seen a rash of quick engagements from other houses at the end of each semester and couldn’t necessarily say Myanda was wrong and then suddenly someone gave a muffled scream and another girl loudly shrieked and then, as one, every single sister on the landing turned in one direction.

Hers.

Brienne took a small step back, from them and from the procession that had made it to the Theta front lawn and stopped there. Her voice quavered to match how her knees had gone watery. “What?”

Wide eyes met hers for a solid two seconds, all of them frozen in place, and then Elinor trilled, “You and Jaime are ENGAGED?”

It broke the standstill and they descended on her from every angle, with demands for an explanation, calls of congratulations, some happy cries of I KNEW IT and more hugs than she’d received in the last six months combined, not counting from Jaime.

Jaime.

What.

The.

Fu-

“Jaime,” Brienne nearly shouted, and broke away from her ecstatic sisters and their pleas to see the ring. What ring?! she wanted to shout, but “I need to go check on Jaime” came out instead.

They stampeded down the stairs after her, but she legged it with a determination that had her first out the door, where she nearly slammed into Addam where he was about to knock and Brienne demanded, “What did you do?”

“Well, may I be the first to offer my congra-” Addam fell sideways into some shrubbery when Brienne elbowed him out of the way. Served him right.

“HEY!” came the loud cheer from her brother frat, with fists pumping in the air and a fair few jumping up and down, all of them surrounding Jaime, who hovered roughly a foot above everyone else due to the position they’d put him in. Duct taped him in. Same difference.

Jaime caught sight of her and wiggled in what would have been a frantic motion if he hadn’t been duct taped so securely. She couldn’t guess how many rolls they’d used, except that it was nearly from neck to toes, with tiny strips of his clothes peeking through where the tape didn’t completely overlap. His eyes were big and pleading and he would definitely have been giving her some sort of explanation if one large piece of silvery tape wasn’t keeping his mouth steadfastly shut.

Pod, not reading Brienne’s horror at all, dropped to one knee and held out a pair of scissors to her as the other boys yelled out Sigma! Theta! Sigma! Theta!, the cries taking on a higher pitch as the Thetas joined in and Brienne had to take yet another deep breath to skirt around all of them to get to Jaime and to slooooowly peel away the tape from his face.

“Jaime,” Brienne said as she did it, with a calm that unnerved even her. “What is this about?”

“Hell if I know, they jumped me out of nowhere,” Jaime rasped out and glared at everyone else. Raising his voice to be heard over the clamor, he asked, “Does anyone else want to explain?”

“You can’t be that pissed,” Addam said as he approached, brushing away leaves and twigs from his clothes. “You were the first one to break out the tape when it was Bronn’s turn.”

“That’s because he was actually engaged,” Jaime said in vicious, seething tones, enough to make everyone around him finally go silent.

Addam faltered and then waved his finger between the two of them. “You mean, you two aren’t…”

“No!” Jaime and Brienne retorted in exasperated tandem.

Whirling on Lancel, Addam said, “You told me they were!”

“You took his word for it?” If outright indignation were enough to break Jaime’s bindings, Lancel would have been in real trouble, but Jaime could only wiggle in place some more. “Lancel?”

“But you said so!” His cousin looked startled and skittered backwards when Brienne took a step towards him. “He did! Yesterday!”

“Well, that’s news to me!” Jaime thrashed around with little effect and Brienne returned to his side, carefully taking the scissors from Pod’s slack grip as she did.

“And me,” Brienne said as she started carefully snipping away. She had to set a hand on Jaime’s chest to make him stay still, continuing on when he did. It took more effort to ignore the assembly of friends encircling them, listening with rapt attention.

“Start running, Lancel,” Jaime ordered but Brienne fixed a glare on the Lannister cousin, freezing him in place.

“He did, though,” Lancel whined plaintively, apparently deciding Brienne was his last chance for refuge from Jaime’s anger. “Last night, we were all shooting the shit and I told him what my dad said and Jaime said it was true.”

“I said what?”

Brienne patted his chest and took another long breath. “Lancel?” she said as evenly as possible. “Explain.”

“Our dads were talking about all of us,” Lancel nervously began. “Uncle Tywin was telling my dad how much he likes you for Jaime, how you suit each other” - Jaime’s chest went still under her hand and then he moaned an almost indecipherable oh good gods - “and I told Jaime about that and he said-”

“I know what I said!” Jaime tried to interject, to no avail.

“-he said, ‘yeah, I’m going to marry that girl’,” Lancel finished triumphantly.

“Oh,” Brienne said. It came out far more softly than the blaring cacophony in her head. It came out again, without her say so. “Oh.”

Then she turned and focused on freeing Jaime, not looking him in the eye as he called Lancel an idiot with renewed passion.

“So you… didn’t propose?” Lancel backed away slowly.

“I think you just did it for me, thanks,” Jaime said sarcastically. He sounded like his first point of order would be to wrap his hands around his cousin’s neck but when Brienne finally let his hands loose, they fell to his sides and she could feel his eyes on her. “Brienne?”

“It was a misunderstanding, it’s fine,” she said quietly and started sawing away at another chunk of tape. Jaime reached out, his hands going over hers and he asked, somewhere past her, “Can we get some privacy, maybe?”

There were several awkward moments as most everyone found something better to do - and likely far away from Jaime’s retribution - but when it was discovered that the post Jaime was attached to still needed support to stay upright, Addam braved coming close and said, “I’ll hold it up, but I’m not even here, I swear.”

“Uh-huh,” Jaime muttered as Addam held his hands against the back of the post and then turned his head to stare in the opposite direction. When most everyone else scattered, Jaime looked back at her and said, “Sorry about all this.”

“Don’t apologize.” Brienne gave undue attention to where his shoulder was still strapped down. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jaime sighed. “Then why does it feel like I did?”

“Because it’s your family members that tend to do some real questionable shit?” Addam suggested.

“I’m sorry, I thought you weren’t here,” Jaime snarled over his shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry. Not here starting… now.”

Brienne laughed under her breath and put her forehead against the shoulder she freed and Jaime tilted his head down to rest on hers.

“This isn’t how I thought I’d ask,” Jaime murmured against her hair and Brienne was too overwhelmed to feel surprised anymore. She’d be a liar if she claimed she never thought of their future; surely Jaime had, too. “Thought it’d be a while from now. Less public, less telephone style through my dad and cousin and maybe less duct tape, too.”

“Well, good news,” Brienne said against his shirt, “you haven’t asked.”

“That’s true. I haven’t asked,” Jaime said and she felt him nudge his nose against her head and Brienne smiled as she tilted her face up. He kissed her, sweetly and with promise. “And you haven’t said no.”

“No,” Brienne replied. “It seems I haven’t.”

[a-life-revised]

Rung running a daycare, wearing a little apron, sat on his knees in the middle of the floor with a bunch of toddlers gathered around him, telling them a dramatic child story book version of how Cybertron and Vector Sigma and Primus came to be

Rung fussing over a bunch of toddlers and chasing them around bc the little ones keep putting stuff in their mouths, or he has to wipe paint/energon/snacks in general off their face

Rung sitting down with a content sigh while all the bitlets take a nap on their cots and staring over them fondly bc they're going to be great when they grow up, he can feel it

Rung crying big Ghibli tears when they graduate to First Grade, because he loves them all very much and doesn't want them to go, but he knows they'll do just fine and will learn and grow so much!!!

Rung keeping all the little trinkets and gifts every student has ever given him over the years in a few little boxes in his closet

Rung getting a surprise call to a get together, and surprise, your students planned a get together so they could say hello and share what they learned, and Rung is so happy and overwhelmed he starts crying

Rung surrounded by all his students, most of who are all taller than him now and are all too happy to share what they've learned with him!!!!!

[ultradiplr]

The Beast

A Vampire!Sigma/Reader fanfiction.

Plot: You awaken the beast inside of Lord Siebren.

Tags: Masks. Claws. Fangs. Oh my! Manipulation. Masturbation. Blood. Mention of death/killing. Reader is gender neutral. Sigma almost does a yikes but I promise he never ever will in my fics.

A/N: Okay! So I know this promised a “romantic“ fic but but the build up ended up being pretty long and important so I’m cutting this b up. This will definitely get a continuation, so treat it as a sort of part one.

Xx

The Carnival masquerade was in full swing in the castle. The esteemed guests, drunk with merriment as they celebrated the beginning of Lent. You on the other hand was very much sober, running around in a ridiculous black and white outfit identical to the other servers, white and gold rabbit masks and all, trying to serve the increasingly inebriated crowd as best you could.

Running around the floor, trying to avoid stepping or tripping on the massive, ornate clothing worth more than what you made in a lifetime was an awful task, especially with a tray full of open drinks and food. It was inevitable that you’d trip and fall and offend a lord or lady by staining their clothes, or that you’d ruin your own in the process, so you hoped that when it happened you’d be shown mercy. Until then you tried your damnedest to be quick and careful.

But alas, you were too quick, and not careful enough and ran straight into the chest of a guest at full force with a full tray of red wine on your way from the kitchen back to the ballroom, causing a loud crash as you fell to the floor with the heavy metal pan and broken glasses.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” You apologize panicky as you scramble to clean up the accident, trying to absorb the expensive liquid with the meager towel you had and collecting the shards of the fine crystal cups. “Please forgive me, my lord.” your voice wavered, a million different scenarios playing out in your head and how you’d be punished..

“It’s alright, my dear, it was an accident.” You hear the man say above as you kneeled in your mess.

“No, no, it’s not, I should have been mor- ow.” You cut your hand on a piece of glass as you try to continue apologizing.

You whimper with tears beginning to prick in your eyes as you put your mouth to it, still trying to clean with one hand licking away the blood that formed there. You thought you were prepared for this to happen but now that it did you could feel nothing but stress and panic. You still try to gather up the glass one handed, but you’re getting overwhelmed.

“Did you hurt yourself, liefste?” You’re taken aback when you hear his voice so close, and you look up to see he has bent down closer to you.

You’re frozen for a moment, looking at the intricately detailed mask, modeled off of the night sky and sparkling with tiny jewels, constellations and planets adorn the face on a deep black base, so dark you can’t even see the light hit it. The white and gold details coming together to point the viewer towards his eye where they pierced from the depth of black, sparkling like fine ruby jewels. Your breath is taken a little gazing into them and feeling of calm covers you, forgetting for a moment why you were so worked up.

 “Your hand?” He asks in a rich, sweet tone that makes your muscles feel all warm, holding out a gloved hand for you to take.

Your hand slips from your mouth into his light hold, and you watch placidly as he takes it to examine, not questioning the lack of warmth from his own even as it causes goosebumps to erupt on your skin. You whimper when he thumbs the cut slightly, causing a few drops of blood to stain the blue fabric of his gloves, turning them into a deep purple.

“We need to get this bandaged, klein konijntje, least it get infected.” He says, and his eyes are darker when he looks back up at you.

You nod, and stand with him, a little voice in the back of your mind reminding you of the mess, of the guests waiting for their wine, of your boss and the trouble you’d be in not asking for permission to leave first. But your body is deaf to those voices, your body is numb to everything as he pulls you into his side, his hand still holding your bleeding one as the other wraps around your shoulder, covering you with the warmth of his cloak.

You feel strangely relaxed as he holds you close and leads you somewhere you don’t know, through corridors you know you’re not allowed through, further and further from the light and sounds of the grand ball, and deep and deeper into the cool castle. Eventually he leads you into the physician’s office, a place you definitely were never allowed in, though you’re unsure how he was able to with the way you took… come to think of it, you couldn’t actually remember any of the directions he lead you.

You must be tired… from the party… exhausted from the high stress… yes…. You were tired.

He helps you easily onto a table in the middle of the room and holds out your hand. You notice his glove is heavily strained with your blood, small blotches of purple covering his palm and fingers as he holds your hand so gently. You hiss when you feel the medicine dabbed gently onto your small wound, making a small shush come from under his masked face before he gently wraps a firm bandage around it.

“All better now, little rabbit.” He coos, large cold fingers petting over the bandages. 

His eyes look much too bright in the meekly lit room, piercing and cold, the goosebumps on your skin still have not dissipated, and now looking at him a shiver runs up your spine. You swallow thickly and try to collect your thoughts, suddenly very hard to think. His clean hand comes up to your mask, fingers lightly running over it, threatening to lift it. You feel something sharp under the soft, thin fabric of his glove as it grazes your skin ever so slightly, his nails drawing a smooth line to your face to caress you neck tenderly. 

You whimper again, feeling yourself flush, but something about this isn’t right, his eyes, his hands, his skin, they’re all wrong somehow, and when he makes to lean over you, your hands come up without thinking and pushes him away.

He seems as surprised as you are by that, and he snatches his hands away from you, taking several steps back. It feels like something is lifted from your shoulders as he creates space, and your brain feels less fuzzy.

“Th-thank y-ou, my lord.” You say, the words feeling sluggish and strained on your tongue, like you haven’t talked in a long time, “I sh-should re-return to the party.”

The reality of where you are is slowly setting in, and so is the anxiety. You shake and hold your head, trying to clear it. When you look up at him he’s looking at you, his eyes now dull and soft, and… scared? He looks away from you, gripping one hand to the other, like he was stopping himself from touching you. He looked incredibly tense, shaking ever so slightly, and when his eyes meet your again, there is a sort of pain inside you can’t quiet place.

“Yes, you should” He says suddenly very serious yet unsure, as he steps back toward you.

His hands, big and strong, finds and rests on your hips, and you blush under your mask. You hadn’t really thought about them before. You hadn’t thought about him at all while he was leading you around. He was a very large man. Very large. Tall and Broad, though his body hidden by the cloak he wore. It was intriguing. It was terrifying. How had you let him trap you in a room alone with him?

He helps you down before ushering you gently toward the door “I am very thankful, my lord.” You say quickly, you mind feels clear and your strength is coming back to you.

“SIebren, It is Siebren.” His voice is tinted with a wavy severity as he gently pushing you out into the quiet hallway, alone, “Now, you should run along before someone comes looking for you.”  he begins to close the door behind you.

“Are you not returning to the ball, Lord Siebren?” You ask looking up at what little you could see of him.

“I am feeling a bit ill, I think I will stay here for a little while longer.” he says quickly, his voice becoming strained.

“Should I get someone to help y-” You take a step toward him and he closes the door firmly in your face.

“I will by fine, I just need rest, please, run along.” It sounds like he just grits that out through his teeth, and you could swear you hear him groan a little.

You stand outside, biting your lip, unsure of what to do. If he needs help, shouldn’t you offer it? He helped you after all. But then again, he had told you to return to your duties, and they are probably looking for you. But then again… You sigh and shake your head, turning to walk back to the main hall, whichever way that was.

---

Siebren rested his head against the door, groaning as he still could smell you so easily, standing just a few measly inches from him, with only the thick wood protecting you from him. He clenched his eyes closed and tensed his body, forcing himself to still as he waited and begged internally for you to just leave. 

It felt like eternity when you did, the soft patter of your shoes against the carpet dying off as you got further from him, though your scent still lingered heavily in the air. 

He sighed out the breath he was holding and relaxed, clean hand coming up to his face under the mask to pinch at the bridge of his nose to relieve the tension in his brain. It had been a long time since his affliction had flared so badly, and an even longer time since he’d actually tried to feed on a human. 

His stomach turned thinking about it, how he had used his powers to manipulate you, to calm you and get you alone, preparing you to be fed on, only to be saved by the will of the lord and your reflexive shock at feeling his claws on your skin. 

He knew he should have left the party as soon as it became late and scurried off to drink the sheep blood he uses to keep the hunger at bay in the privacy of his own keep, but no, he had to stay, had to have one last drink, have one last conversation, to see the king one last time.

Idioot. Idioot. He was pushing it, he knew it, and now look what he almost did! If he had just left he wouldn’t be here now, starving, aching, craving, locking himself away until he was sure he would not seek out and harm you. He felt on the precipice of a frenzy, and all because of a little cut and a few drops of blood!

He threw his mask down, sweating in the heat of it and the clothes he wore, hand running through his hair as the other clawed at the door. His body was being wracked with an unnatural heat, almost like he was alive again, almost like he had warm blood pumping through him, and he didn’t know how to process it.

It’d been so, so, so long since he’d been so close to human blood, the coppery sweet smell so distinctly human, so distinctly alive and fresh and warm, no animal could compare to it, and his body craved it so highly. Like the monster he was.

When he saw you lick your hand, clearing it away, hogging it so greedily, God, he felt a jealousy he could not describe. His mind had focused so much at that little motion that the only thing he could think of was devising a way to have his own taste. And that was what he was planning to do, to patch you up so you’d not spill another drop, and to take every last ounce of it from you for himself. And lord, he came so close, so damn close.

He punched the door, leaving a sizable crack from his strength, frustrated at himself for not doing it and at the same time for even trying in the first place. His mind was racked by conflicted feelings and his body was still warm.

He huffed loudly, trying to figure this all out. Trying to calm himself. He needed a release from all this energy. He needed something to calm him down until he could safely leave the castle. He needed… you...

He looked at his blood stained glove and a desperate thought filled his mind, one that immediately filled him with shame. Slowly, like he was trying to deny what he was doing, he brought his hand to his face, and inhaled deeply, groaning at the sweet smell of your blood so close to his face. His mouth watered but his throat felt dry as he opened his lips and carefully slipped a blood stained finger in.

He shut his eyes tightly, revolted with himself morally, but physically excited at the exquisite taste that hit his tongue, sweet, salty copper human blood, richer than any other kind. It lit a fire within him, a dangerous one, one that he knew he needed to extinguish soon. He moaned as his teeth grabbed into the glove, letting his hand slip from it and brace against the door, it too being marked by your blood.

His claws cling tightly to the already splitting wood as his other reached for his crotch, already half hard from finally tasting you. He needed to tire himself out, he told himself, but he knew this was just another sign of how much of a monster he was, hungering for you in every way.

He moaned around the fabric in his mouth as his hand slipped into his pants, gnawing on the strong fabric as his teeth sought flesh. He felt himself, hot and solid in his slack grip, as he teased himself to complete hardness, burying his head into the crook of his elbow. He pulled on himself, the costume giving him enough room to work with, as a string of moans were pulled from his chest with ever smooth stroke. It’d been so long, so long. 

His mind made images dance in his head, of finding you right now and dragging you into the dark, of touching you, of tasting you. Your legs wrapped around his head, your hands pulling against his hair, of you coming undone underneath him in a bid to get you more relaxed, to get your blood nice and warm and pumping. Of holding you up against a wall, so short, so small, so eager, as he slowly enters you.

He pants as his grip tightens a little, the smooth fabric of his glove getting wet with his precum and letting him slide easily in his fist.

You’d be so tight, a little human compared to the great big monster he was, begging and crying for something you didn’t even know, clinging onto him for dear life. A meal all for him, begging for him to eat, to take, to devour. He’ll fuck into you so hard, so fast, like the animal he was, covering you with bites, making you bleed, playing with his food.

He can feel himself almost there, almost, his breathing is hard, and the only sound in the room is the sick wet slaps of his hard cock rutting into his tight fist. He whines as he sucks on the fabric in his mouth, the meager taste of you not enough and yet everything he needs.

He’d make you cum over and over, until your body is nothing but a limp ragdoll for him to use, until you can do nothing but beg him to eat you up, to take all thats left, because you’re so very thankful for him making you feel so good. And then he’ll bend down and kiss your pulse, fangs slipping as easily into you as his cock does.

He’ll drink from you as he completes, holding you close, feeling the warmth leave your body as he’s wracked by a pleasure unparalleled by anything else.

He shakes his head, his stomach flipping at the idea, tears prickling in his eyes, he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want that! He wants… he wants…. He thinks hard as he feels himself approaching the end, trying to overpower the sick beast inside him. His cock is hot and wet in his hand, and his fangs have finally punctured the fabric into his own lip, causing himself to bleed.

He wants to drink from you, to taste the source of this wonderful flavor. To feel you moan and mewl around him, your hot wet heat enveloping him and taking him. He wants you to accept him, all of him, and to bend your neck for him willingly. He wants to feel you shiver as he takes what he needs, and he wants to pull back to see you still warm and glowing with life.

“Thank you.” He says on a broken voice, spilling inside you as you still live, still breath, and still clench out him.

“Everything for you.”

The sound of your voice fills his head and he cums ropes into his fist and the pants of his costume, his body overflowing with that unnatural heat that for a moment almost makes him feel alive again. He gulps on air, shivering, shaking, as his body is wracked with conflicting feels again. Of relief, of dread, of hope, of sorrow, of energy, and total relaxation. 

He slumps against the door as his body cools to it’s normal ice cold temperature and pulls his cum covered hand from his pants, grimacing at the evidence of what he’d just done. He spits the glove in his mouth out, the blood having been washed around by the copious amounts of drool on it, and wraps it around the other before wrapping the whole thing in a handkerchief. Out of sight, out of mind. 

As his sane mind returns to him for now, he straightens what he can, and snatched up his mask again, pulling his cloak tightly around him as he steps out from the room, hoping nobody questions the marks he left on the back of the door.

The decent man in him wanted to apologize to you for what he thought of you and almost did to you, but he knew now wasn’t the best time… or maybe ever. He slipped out the back of the castle and collected his personal carriage, starting off toward his own keep, tired beyond belief.

It wasn’t until he was of sound mind again before daybreak, having drank enough sheep’s blood to satiate him, that he realized.

He’d never caught your name.

[nitewrighter]

Reidan prompt spending the holidays and New Year's with the Shimada-Zieglers! :D

I think if I do New Year’s, it’ll probably be a different fic.

Consider this story a continuation from Care Package.

----

4:00. Aedan stared at the digital numbers on his comm’s screen before he took a deep breath and rapped his knuckles on the apartment door in front of him. He rolled back and forth on his heels with nervousness, rolling his fingers on the small glass-covered tray in his hands.

You should have come later, that critical voice in his head spoke up, Four on the dot is weird. It’s weird and you know it. 

A few seconds passed and Aedan stopped in his rocking.

It’s not to late to turn around and give it another few minutes, he thought, Or retreat. Like a coward. Or--

The door opened and Aedan found himself face to face with Angela Ziegler, or mostly face to face, as he was a few inches taller than her. There was a ripple of “oh god why are you here” across Mercy’s face and Aedan saw a shake of hesitation in her shoulder, as if she was repressing the instinct to slam the door right in his face. He knew he looked too much like his mother, (which of course was to be expected because, well, clone) and no one reminded him more sharply of that than Mercy. She didn’t even need to say anything to do so. She did her best to assume a pleasant, neutral expression.

“A-Aedan,” she started, straightening up a bit where she stood.

“You came!” Rei leaned into the doorway just behind her with a wide grin. She was still wearing the foil crown from the Christmas popper. Mercy dropped her arm from the doorframe and Rei grabbed his shoulder and practically dragged him in. Aedan looked around the apartment. Genji was busying himself in the kitchen, Mercy was laying out the table, and Jaime and Hanzo were in the living room, apparently trying to hook up a yule log on the living room’s holo-screen and get music playing on the apartment’s speakers. Rei looked at the tray in Aedan’s hands, seeing the pink through the glass “And you brought... Jello? Mochi?”

“Jochi?” Jaime piped up from the living room.

“Turkish delight,” said Aedan, holding up the tray, “Didn’t want to come empty handed and this was what I could whip up from the watchpoint kitchens--I’m still amazed you had rosewater.”

“Did I have to cook something?” asked Jaime.

“No,” said Hanzo.

“Oh phew,” said Jaime.

“But it--uh--it needs to finish setting in the fridge so...” Aedan trailed off weakly, “I thought...”

“By all means,” said Mercy, gesturing at the kitchen.

“I brought my own dusting sugar!” Aedan said, attempting to sound as helpful as possible as he briskly walked to the fridge and stuck the tray into it.

“Wait-wait-wait--Turkish delight’s real? I thought they just made it up for that Lion Jesus movie,” Aedan heard a familiar folksy voice and his head swiveled to see McCree leaning against the kitchen counter, beer in hand, “Howdy,” McCree gave a slight wave with his beer. 

“Y-yes, it’s real,” said Aedan.

“It was a book, McCree,” said Genji, loudly and rapidly chopping a leek, “Well, it was real, but it was also in a book--the candy was real, not the book--” Genji mindlessly gestured with his large knife as he spoke, and Aedan shrank a bit against the fridge, trying his best not to be intimidated by the scar-faced ninja nonchalantly waving a large knife around.

“You ain’t plannin’ on stealin’ Rei away and causing an eternal winter, are ya?” said McCree, grinning at Aedan.

“Uncle--” Rei said with an eye-roll. 

 “’cause we ain’t got Lion Jesus,” said McCree.

Aedan paled and stammered but Mercy spoke up before he could say anything.

“Aslan,” said Mercy, setting the table.

“Gesundheit,” said McCree.

“No, Aslan is the Lion Je--” Mercy huffed before looking at Aedan, “Can we get you anything? Water? Soda? Mulled Wine?”

“...mulled what?” was all that Aedan managed but McCree was already setting his beer down and ladling him a glass of ruby red mulled wine with cloves and an orange slice floating in it.

“Ballsy,” said McCree, “I like it.”

“What?” said Aedan before the glass was stuck in his hand. “oh--yes--well...”

“I’m in!” said Rei, ladling her own glass and clinking hers against his, “We try to get it as close to the Christmas Markets’ in Zurich as possible!” she paused, “Wait, are you old enough to drink?”

“Yes, physically,” said Aedan, swishing the mulled wine in his own glass.

“Physically?” Mercy and Genji spoke up at the same time.

“Well... amnio-tank, you know,” said Aedan before sipping his own wine, “Brainwashing, artificial aging..” he shrugged vaguely before quickly adding, “I could drink with Talon!” he then paled at his own mention of Talon before glancing off and clearing his throat.

Rei elbowed McCree.

“What?” said McCree quietly, and Rei just jerked her head at Aedan, and McCree went “Oh” and cleared his throat, “Look--don’t worry about that stuff. This whole family’s practically redemption stories--Ain’t that right, darlin’?” he called over to the living room.

“Hmm,” was Hanzo’s only response.

“I’m here ‘cause I stole a backpack!” Jaime suggested helpfully from the couch, lifting up his own glass of mulled wine.

“You’re here because you’re part of the family,” said Hanzo, flatly.

“Which was instigated by stealing a backpack,” said Jaime.

“See?” said McCree, both he and Rei smiling at Aedan.

“...right,” said Aedan, rolling his own fingers on his mulled wine.

The night, as far as Aedan was concerned, went pretty well. To be fair, Aedan had been thinking almost purely in worst-case-scenarios, pretty much all of them seeing Christmas day ending with himself getting kicked off the Watchpoint, possibly by being thrown from Gibraltar’s cliffs, but Rei’s family felt.... normal. Well, about as normal as a family composed of ninjas, a cowboy, and the world’s greatest (and in Aedan’s opinion most intimidating) doctor could be. Aedan, was a bit paranoid about consuming wine his first time over at the Shimada-Zieglers, but from what he could taste, it wasn’t terribly strong, only enough to take the edge off, and warm and filling enough for him to only sip a bit at a time.

Dinner that night was a delicious coq au vin. As Rei predicted, Jesse brought in far too many sides (roasted parsley potatoes, broccoli rabe, any of which were shoveled onto Aedan’s plate the second any open space appeared.) Rei’s parents and uncles were civil and pleasant throughout the whole thing. They had all made the decision to enjoy their Christmas regardless of what effect his presence might have, Aedan supposed. Mercy wasn’t avoiding looking at him or talking to him, but there was a certain sparseness in their communications that both considered fortunate.  Aedan didn’t consider himself a particular slouch at cooking, but something about the fact that he was eating a meal with others, that he wasn’t just cooking something for himself made him feel the least alone he had felt since he came to the watchpoint.

Jaime took up a surprising amount of the conversation, keeping most of the table occupied with stories of the southwest and more than a few stories Ashe and Grandma Billie apparently had about McCree (much to McCree’s chagrin.) Rei herself was running heroic loads of interference, switching the subject at dinner whenever things got uncomfortable, getting people seconds and refills and finally clearing the table, and doing the dishes, which Aedan volunteered for as well. Aedan glanced over to the living room, where Mercy, Genji, Hanzo, and McCree were quietly chatting.

“How are you holding up?” said Rei, drying dishes after he rinsed them.

“I’m holding up,” said Aedan.

“I’m sorry,” said Rei, “I know this is overwhelming...”

“It’s fine,” said Aedan, “I guess I’m used to Christmases just being... me and Mum. And Professor de Kuiper, sometimes.”

“Who?” said Rei.

“Siebren de Kuiper?” said Aedan.

“Sigma!?” Rei repeated the name with some horror in her voice but then glanced over at her parents, who apparently hadn’t heard her over Aedan running the sink. She dropped her voice slightly, “The scary gravity god guy?”

“He’d bring Stroopwafels...” Aedan said, a small hint of wistful reminiscence in his voice.

“Stroopwafels. The guy who just floated right out of Akira brought stroopwafels for Christmas,” said Rei, incredulously.

 “I think Mum was one of the only people in Talon who wasn’t afraid of him,” said Aedan, quietly.

Rei blinked at this. “...It’s weird... I never thought people in Talon got scared.”

Aedan snorted. “How can you say that when you know me?” he said, smiling at her.

“Well that’s why you defected, y’know,” said Rei, grinning, “You got spooked.”

“Right, and you had nothing to do with it,” said Aedan, holding a dish out to her. 

Rei’s dark gray eyes flicked down to the dish, and then up to him. That stupid foil christmas popper crown still lopsided on her head, gold on sable-black hair. He could tell that question was on the back of her throat, still warm and cinnamon-y from the mulled wine.

Did you defect for me?

Do you like her? he remembered McCree veiled behind the photon barrier of his cell back when he was being interrogated after his defection.

‘Like’ had nothing to do with it, he remembered his own words but it was little flickering moments like this that made him wonder how much truth there was to that statement. The fact that he could not, in good conscience, let Talon do what they were going to do to her was the immediate, knee-jerk reason for his defection, but he would be lying if there wasn’t the image of a girl in a yellow dress in the back of his mind when he was wheeling that stretcher through the halls of Urdr labs---

“Aedan?” Rei’s voice snapped him back to the present.

“What?” Aedan said on reflex.

“Uh, the dish?” said Rei.

Aedan glanced down to see his own hand still holding onto the dish while Rei was gently trying to take it from his grip. He released it and Rei took the dish and dried it.

“You kids keeping it PG in here?” said Jaime, strolling into the kitchen and refilling his own glass with mulled wine.

“You here because Uncle told you to wipe down the counter?” said Rei, smiling at him.

“Maybe,” said Jaime, picking up a towel and wiping down the counter, “Or maybe I want dibs on the Jesus Lion candy.”

“Aslan,” said Rei.

“Turkish delight,” said Aedan.

“Yeah the pink shit,” said Jaime.

 Rei elbowed him.

 “Which I’m sure is delicious,” said Jaime.

“Be nice,” said Rei, folding her arms, “I was just telling him things were going to get less weird.”

“Things don’t get less weird, they just get eclipsed by newer, shinier, weirdness,” said Jaime with a shrug, “Case in point: You’re here.”

“Which just goes to show that he belongs here,” said Rei, putting her hands on her hips, she caught herself and reddened, “I mean--not like--here, here--I mean like...Overwatch here. Here here is... my apartment which,” she laughed a bit nervously, “Which would be weird.”

“Nice save, cuz,” said Jaime, continuing to wipe down the counter.

Aedan huffed a bit with a smile.

“We’re glad to have you here, is what I’m saying,” said Rei, putting away the last of the dishes with a sharp sidelong glance at Jaime.

“Thank you,” said Aedan, drying off his own hands.

“Well we’re glad you’re here,” said Jaime with a grin, “But if you look close at Auntie Angela I think I can see her turning gray from--”

Rei elbowed Jaime again and Jaime grunted in response. “Yep,” he said with a slight wheeze, “Happy you’re here.”

“Hey,” Rei refilled both her and Aedan’s glasses and Jaime picked up his own, “To new friends,” she said, holding up her glass.

“To eclipsing weirdness,” said Aedan, bringing his glass up to meet hers.

“Oh I like you,” said Jaime, as all three of their glasses clinked together.

[goldporces]

Sigma x Reader “Fix You”

Rating: G

Words: 2958

Description: An AU where Siebren is rescued from Talon, several months after you became his unofficial therapist, and only friend.

Note: There are multiple song references hidden in this fic, and if you get them all, well..  Congrats. The title is the reference to Coldplay’s song “Fix You”.

"This is working out quite well, isn’t it?"

A little spin of a pen on his fingers, a little smile on his mouth. Siebren knew he was doing magic and played a little game of pretending to be a real magician - with this long "wand", doing circular patterns in the air with it, as if he was casting a spell.

You were only a few footsteps away from the scientist, wiping the old equations he’s written before from a whiteboard, and - you absolutely can’t stress it enough - his handwriting looked like a painting itself, apart from the absolute work of art it has supposed to help to construct. There were questions marks, little dots and arrows everywhere, as much as little sketches and supposed staged of progress of his new invention. Breathing out and taking only a small step back, you decided that that’s going to do for now, there is plenty of clear space for the scientist to work on already, and you’re sure that right now he’s ready to show you a part of what he created, as usual.

After turning your head slowly and tiredly to look at Siebren, you meet his eyes, which happens very rarely, if anyone happen to ask you. The man can’t look you in the eyes for long, as he can’t establish eye contact with anyone for long now, but you absolutely don’t blame him for that.

You never blame him for anything.

In fact, that’s a crucial part of your job here. From what it might look like, you are his apprentice, or his student at least, taking care of all sorts of things around him, related to his job. You bring him instruments when needed, you search for things when he requires them in urgency, you sometimes clean the equipment (and it doesn’t bother you in the slightest).

But that’s only a cover-up. Your actual role here is, in fact, quite different.

You were a volunteer to participate in... the latest years of Siebren’s life. Aside from taking care of his surroundings and some parts of his own job, you stepped up to take care of him as well.

You are quite of a scientist yourself, but not on the stereotypical one. In actuality, you study people in a group and cognitive behaviors of a singular person. Upon taking in consideration your future career, you stumbled across Dr. Kuipers work. Completely astonished by it, you wanted to take a look deeper and understand the person behind it, the one who’s done this massive research and put a new path for humanity, the mind that was capable of more than anyone you ever met.

But as you discovered more and more sides to his story, you realized that something’s not quite right, though.

Many things are not right, in fact.

And they’re all are equal to small mistakes within a complex equation that won’t let it work as it’s supposed to, except there is no way to fix it. You would always come up with the wrong result.

Always broken.

You meet his eyes, finally, of course you were thinking only about the precious eye contact with Siebren, weren’t you? You’re not surprised that your thoughts have trickled down to recalling recent events, both from your life, and the tragic life of someone who just happens to stand in a little distance away.

He was taken by force, internal and external. What he has discovered - a mystery, known only to a single man, a man without his normal life to come in the future. They took it away. Friends, perhaps spouse, kids, grandkids, a job, family, celebration, traveling, world, but most importantly..

Happiness.

They took away his happiness.

They put him inside 4 identical looking walls. By internal and external power, he was forced into walking in circles every day, with no contact to humanity. What he had was so similar to a hamster’s environment in his beloved cage - food dispensers, water bottles. Medication. Everything surrounding him was.. white..

Until he started seeing things.

And hearing things.

"What’s on your mind?" Siebren was staring at you for more than just few moments, and your gaze stayed in the same blank state it was. You shook your head. The thought of smiling slipped in your head to ensure him that you’re fine. However, you didn’t. At that moment, you definitely could consider yourself emotionally strong, but you still could’t manage to lift the corners of your lips in a positive expression after bearing with the thoughts about Dr. Kuiper’s trauma.

Oh no, you, by any means, couldn’t claim that you can feel what he feels, or understand what he felt, ever. His feelings are beyond any human to understand.

You take a seat on one of the tables, just a little walk away from where you stood. Feet not touching the ground, you carefully observed what Kuiper was planning to do next.

And yes, you do have to do it carefully, because he had enough of people watching him already. And still does, except you can’t see them.

But, you’re absolutely sure that you’re the only real person he has around, and will gladly explain him that if the scientist starts seeing others again. After months worth of time around Siebren, you know exactly how to socialize with him, being in any emotional state.

"I was just wondering if I’ll get to see you test your creation", his face changed to a calmer, softer expression as soon as he heard your voice, and you might’ve had a clue why.

You’re the only one to talk to him so friendly in years. Decades.

"Right." He smiled at you, strangely, because he doesn’t smile first to anyone. Ever. Just how much happiness you bring to his mind by a simple conversation?

"I might set this off, shortly, after I.. Maybe, check if this part here works too.."

The scientist kept looking for something, examining as close as possible, then held the small machine, then spun it in his hands, and put it down. You started to notice: he’s muttering something so quiet you can’t really understand what exactly, he’s frowning at nothing, he started walking around too fast.

His hands were shaking.

"No, no, no, no! This can’t be working at all!" Kuiper threw a quick glance on the surroundings, overwhelmed and nervous, his eyes darting in different directions now. "I made a mistake somewhere. I definitely can’t let this happen. Did they make me do it again? What is this for?"

Siebren looked at you, at your calm and organized facial expression, and you could hear his breathing, that has quickened in a matter of seconds, echoing in the small walls you were together in.

"Maybe I didn’t want anything to work at all in the first place. What if this was my plan all along? I can’t show you, although I want to, but I-", slamming his fists on the table and making instruments and gears jump on it, the scientist cried, "Don’t want them to control my mind again!"

"Nobody is here, Siebren. Only you and me." You speak for the first time since he started breaking down, still having the same calm demeanor and peaceful aura around you. "Nobody doesn’t know what you’re doing, because nobody is watching us."

It was true. Both of you weren’t in a glass chamber, nor in a secured or guarded space. They were no cameras or watching devices.

You still remember the day he saw a camera, recording something, in the upper corner of the room you were in. It was set off. You had to prove him, that it doesn’t exist, climb up a ladder, put a tape in front, so it wouldn’t film anything at all. And only then he said it disappeared.

He smiled to you first that day.

"But what if I was obeying the orders in my head all this time I spent on this machine? Is this even safe to use? I have no idea at all! I hear people constantly telling me that I should escape, because somebody’s keeping me hostage, and I have to destroy all of this place, and!.."

His shaking voice (intervening with white noise?) finally stopped, as the man suddenly shifted his eyes to the ceiling. It was white.

"That music is playing again.."

As fast as Siebren sunk his head down, your heart sunk to the very bottom of your chest. This was too much already, but you knew you can’t help him in the beginning of it, because any interaction with his strong emotions could cause anomalies, that he was only now learning how to control. But you absolutely didn’t want for him to come to this stage.

"Siebren."

Your voice was calling, endearing.

"Come here."

When the man rushed to your open arms, he was tall enough to drop on his knees in front of you and still be able to bury his face in your chest, despite you sitting up a little higher than the ground. Kuiper’s body was trembling, twisting and turning, the emotional agony that flowed out in a physical one, the one that you’ve never seen happen to anyone at all. Your heart was pounding in fear, but only after a few moments you’d discover that his own was beating even faster, and it probably would’ve reached the speed of sound, if only you weren’t here to put an end to this. To calm him down.

"There’s nothing to be scared of. You will stop hearing it eventually, because nobody’s playing it. It’s not real. All real you can hear is.. my voice.." You leaned it closer to wrap your arms around the upper part of Siebren’s torso, giving a moment to pull your hands down his arms, slightly patting his shoulders, before holding him as closer as possible. "I’m a real person, and I will always be one, and I want to help you."

It didn’t take long until you heard only a couple of sobs, that he tried to hide as much as possible. "I don’t want to be a concept, that they put evil thoughts on, I don’t want that.. I’m a person, I work really hard, everyday", His eyes now were red, as he wiped his tears away, head lifting only for a split second. It’s almost like he didn’t want to show you, although you knew already that the scientist couldn’t control his emotions. “To this day, I see "Subject Sigma" written on the outside of the white walls I’m trapped in, right in front of my eyes, right here, in my sight.” not being able to even pace his words, he tripped over them and breathed, but continued, ”I see the same halls and sometimes there are people looking at me, taking notes, but nobody’s staying for long, and I want to scream, and I scream so they would let me out. A-and then I start hearing them, even though the glass is too thick to hear anything past it..”

Kuiper rose his eyes up to look in yours, and you thought - only for a moment - that in his gaze, you saw the metallic shackles that were holding him, the almost acidic, toxic orange color of the prison uniform he had to wear in the past. The white pillows. The white ceiling.

“Everyday, I’m not dead. There’s no end."

His face was red.

You close your eyes and listen, carefully, observing his tone changing, every note in his speech, like if his words were a melody themselves. You sensed, with both of your hands on his back, gentle motions of patting and grasping tighter, that his muscles were easing now, and his body was, in fact, calming down. That didn’t mean you could let your guard down too, though. You trusted him in everything, but you couldn’t trust him his own safety.

"I’m sorry."

You were confused now and completely off track. It’s not hard to look him in the eyes now, you have an excuse - why did he think of own guilt?

"I’m sorry, that.. You have to put up with me for so long. I don’t know why you’re still here, why you haven’t given up. I don’t want to trust anyone, but I can’t help wanting you to be here when I’m breaking down. It’s a.. new, unfamiliar experience.." Another wave of shake through Kuiper’s body, and his eyes were filled with tears again. Meanwhile, you were absolutely lost.

How much did he had to put up with everything alone?

"My whole life", sobbing and still trying to cover his face, Siebren didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. "I’ve been working and putting so much in scientific progress, hoping that I can deserve knowledge in the end, knowledge, that will open my eyes and gift me all that I need, but-"

"You lost everything."

By saying this, you made him lift his head to look at your face, and you were far from as peaceful as before now - you coudln’t listen to all this without showing emotion, because otherwise you’d be like everyone else. Like them.

"I know many people have tried to take you, gain control over your powers, used you to-", before you could finish your sentence, Siebren yelled in rage, rising on his knees to be higher than you and still looking you straight in the eyes,

"They tortured me for staying silent the whole time! They have no idea that this knowledge could destroy them, like it destroyed my sanity!"

His shout was ringing in your ears. And then the deadly silence.

You stared back for a couple of seconds, as he realized, what he just did to you.

Siebren’s eyes filled with desperate fear.

"Please, please, please don’t leave me please, I didn’t want to scare you, please, I didn’t mean to!" As soon as the panic came to his mind, the anomality came to twist the environment around you, turning off gravity for all physical objects. Lifting you both up in the air.

But you own fear was non-existent, fear of anything, especially..

"Siebren."

Your body, now floating in the air, connects with the man in front of you. Hand reaching his head, you pull him closer, so that your forehead and nose would touch his own nose and forehead, as if you were trying to connect your minds. Breathing out, you closed your eyes.

"I love you."

Your gliding in the air body stopped, as if an effect was suddenly put on a pause, and as soon as that happened, you felt his arms circling around you in response, your heads still touching.

"You could’ve had a normal life. Friends, perhaps spouse, kids, grandkids, family and seeing the world," Kuiper’s words could be heard in your conscience without him actually opening his mouth, "But you spent every day seeing me. Visiting me, helping me. Caring about me, comforting me when I had those flashbacks.. Your job isn’t to love me, y/n."

"I don’t want this to be my job, because it’s something more important than one. You’re more important than anything, and I do want to spend all my time with you, until I am stardust," You knew it would catch the scientist if you used one of his own metaphors, and it did - you sensed his surprise. "You never scare me. You never do anything for me to love you less."

It also caught him every time you said "love", which made Siebren’s breathing stop for a second, the man not believing his hearing, that someone could say that to him.

"There are plenty of people in this world, at least, on Earth, that are more than willing to offer you greater, different kind of love, and so many reasons to love them back."

Siebren wasn’t lying.

He was so deprived from this world, it was impossible for him to have any romantical feelings anymore. He was incapable.

Broken.

But that wasn’t a problem to you.

"It occurs to me that there are more than enough people, but see," you made a pause, only to lift the corners of your lips, "You’re my favorite one."

Feeling him almost freeze, you then were pulled in a tight hug in Siebren’s strong arms around you, and you didn’t recall feeling more safe in your life.

Everything was falling together.

"I don’t want to lose you, y/n. I thought you’d be in more danger around me, so I wouldn’t let you approach me at all, but I can assure you, that nothing will ever happen to you, as long as I am with you. I will learn to control myself for you, and your love.. To be worthy of it.."

"You’re worthy enough."

Your gazes meet, and you both see each other smiling so unbelievably happy, still violating all laws of gravity.

Together.

"I love you too, y/n."

________________________________________________________________

Once everything was cleaned up properly, and you shifted to a cozier room than a lab, Siebren, with a single command, disabled gravity for the area around you two, and you were quickly up again.

"Now, I know it would be very sudden to ask, but I want you to sing. I find your singing even more charming than the one that the universe sings to me."

Accepting the compliment with a quiet laugh, you sighed in return.

"Okay. This song is called Fix You.."