#Use at least one brain cell please
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Listen, I know it's soft sci-fi and we're not meant to think about it in depth, but also I love to imagine that Murderbot sorta just doesn't know shit about fuck when it comes to its own organic parts, like
MB: I don't take in nutrients like humans do. I don't need food or water.
Incorrect. Resupply lines are mentioned in the first book. At the most basic high-school biology level, if you need oxygen at all its because you're undergoing cellular respiration so you also need glucose. Not to mention potasium, sodium, other electrolytes and WATER!! All that shit is coming from somewhere. Either your one dinky little lung is pulling it out of the air somehow (I'd buy it for water at least) or the resupply lines function as parenteral nutrition.
MB: I don't produce waste.
Incorrect. Aerobic or anerobic, cells produce waste that needs to be filtered out of the blood, not mention cellular breakdown from trauma or natural death. Either there's some sort of internal recycling system going on, or the resupply and repair lines also function as dialysis. My bet is some combination of both.
Show MB: There's no dopamine there.
Maybe romance doesn't trigger dopamine release for you MB, in which case sure, but if you mean constructs don't have dopamine that's INCORRECT AGAIN! We know you have muscles, if you can move those muscles you have dopamine. If you have organic motivation to do ANYTHING you have dopamine. And we know you've got epinephrine, which is made in the same place as dopamine so you def have dopamine.
Show MB: Neural tissue is one of the best data transport material there is.
This one I fully fucking believe, because unlike wires you can send more than just On or Off. Neurotransmitters are so fucking complex if we could use them as WIRING!?!?!? No wonder every ship and system in MB has fucking emotions. No wonder a bot pilot can "Scream and die" when faced with killware. What the fuck is killware btfw??? Do we think it's part computer virus part datapacket that gets translated from binary to mRNA that then hijacks organic cells to fucking kill them?? Do you think there's killware that's turbo brain cancer or digital rabies??
There is so much biopunk potential hidden in the cyberpunk and I'm scrabbling for the crumbs. Martha Wells PLEASE I need ANSWERS!!!
#Murderbot#murderbot tv#spoilers#i guess#if anyone wants these ideas for a fic go ahead and use them#my only condition is you LINK ME CAUSE I WANNA READ IT
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Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde (Here) | Diasomnia (Here) A/N: HUZZAH YET ANOTHER SERIES FINALLY COMPLETE
Habits You Steal:
Heels (Developed): Malleus is quite tall. No, scratch that. He towers over everyone. The horns give him an added height that really sells the deal. Unless you want to crane your neck back and develop a hump? It's wise to start wearing heels.
Prose (Inherited): Malleus. We love his little riddles and mysterious aura . He obviously read the wrong script and came straight out of an early 2000s YA novel named 'Evermore' or something akin. Yet he quite literally cannot get to the point sometimes. It’s a Diasomnia thing for sure but he’s the worst of the litter. It's infuriating. On one hand, your vocabulary has vastly improved. If only he could rub off on Grim, Professor Trein would be ecstatic. The problem is that sometimes you lapse into an 18th century sonnet, and your friends give maximum shit for it. Especially Ace. No mercy.
“Apologies everyone, it’s now past twilight hour and both the prefect and I need to conclude our evening agenda. Please excuse our absence and continue to delight in the night’s festivities.”-> Dear god Malleus - just say you’re going to walk them home and that you’ll see everyone in the morning. The misunderstandings that come from using big words is worse than sounding improper.
Sleeping on your side (Developed): Malleus requires a special pillow to sleep and it's one of those long ones that is positioned center of the bed. Most nights he rests like the dead, flat on his back so his horns don't tear the cloth. Laying on his side is a challenge, but he also wants to be touching you. It's one of those scenarios where once someone who's touch starved gets a taste, they can't go back. So most nights you'll sleep on one side (doesn't matter which) with either your head on his chest or your arms wrapped around one of his. Oh yeah - you get to keep one of those fancy pillows in Ramshackle. It's stored in a spare room but grim steals it quite a bit since the quality is high. The nights Malleus isn't around, you'll wake up with Grim smothered in your arms instead. Guess the whole 'can't go back' thing doesn't apply ONLY to Malleus here.
Luck (Inherited?): Fae blessings are a thing - we have confirmation within a 'discussion' during the main plot. I won't say when to avoid spoilers. Point is, the partner of Malleus Draconia most definitely has fae favorability cast upon them. You could make a HEFTY deal with Azul if he ever found out, so maybe keep the knowledge in your back pocket for a rainy day. Maybe offer to sit by him during a game of poker? Haha, no. You're actually 100% unaware. Only other fae can sense a blessing, and Lilia isn't a snitch. Expect your luck to turn around. Perhaps not entirely, but enough for the grey hairs to stop sprouting prematurely. It's difficult for other fae and supernatural to sense who placed a blessing, but they can recognize raw power. There is only one person on campus with enough magical potency to cast such a powerful charm. All thy need is two brain cells to connect the dots (some do lack this, unfortunately). You won't be sucked into any messes such as the Ghost Bride, etc. anymore, at the very least.
"Hm? I've little to no involvement with the others in my dorm, dearest. Yet, is it not a good happenstance that they treat you with the upmost respect? Do other dorms behave so uncouth that you are wary of proper manners? Diasomnia would welcome you, all you need do is ask." <- It is technically not a lie? He's not explicitly making anyone behave a certain way, but surely the strong aura acts as a deterrent for anyone with bad intentions. It just so happens that most fae-born students reside in Diasomnia. Not that he'd take kindly to any of his acting like anything but proper gentlemen towards you. This includes Sebek, by the way. The tonal whiplash with this one is insane the moment he recognizes Malleus' magic.
Gargoyles (Inherited): There is not much to say on this topic. Malleus is the sole member of Gargoyle Studies, and while he won't force you to join? It would make him very happy. You will become accustomed to travel and find comfort in desolate places. The dewy chill in deep ruins, nature's overgrowth from time's passing - certainly Malleus revisits places he once knew held life, and have been left to deteriorate. You can't truly feel the heavy nostalgia as Malleus can, but the appreciation is still shared.
"I once deeply enjoyed the solitude of ruins. The weathering of time somehow captured in architecture. Trapped in place as the world continued to live on. Yet I now find more joy in sharing them with you, rather than basking in their atmosphere alone. It perplexes me, and yet I find no problem with it." -> Malleus discovered the happiness that comes from simply being near someone you love. He just...doesn't realize it yet? It's a difficult feeling to characterize in words. Different than with his family, certainly. The entire point of going to a ruin was to enjoy the abandoned atmosphere. Malleus cares for his family yet there is a divide. Unspoken, and unable to be crossed. His world turns while he remains at a stand still. Yet whenever he discovers a new ruin, he couldn't find that tranquility he used to. Enjoying it alone is almost unthinkable - harrowing. He can't without you, or else it feels lacking. Even if you sit together in silence, he'd be happy. He just wants you there, your reactions, your company - it brings life back to the emptiness. Leaving the place more harmonious than he found it, coating it with pleasant memories for future visits. Hopefully ones where he is not alone.
Habits He Steals:
Artistry (Developed): Malleus has plenty of time to develop skills. The resources as well. He's fearful that one day your memory will become just that - a memory. One where he cannot picture your face in his mind. Where he's the only one left who recalls your existence. Be it because you pass on, or decide to leave him prematurely and return 'home'. Even if he firmly believes that there is nowhere more 'home' for you than in Twisted Wonderland. Regardless, he doesn't trust others enough. He needs to capture your likeness on his own. With his hands rather than magic - even if using magic to do so is child's play. He does not tell anyone of this budding desire or disquiet in his heart. Not even Lilia, who's likeness is forever immortalized in textbooks. The unspoken implications are too much for Malleus to confront.
People Watching (Inherited): It’s a work-in-progress, getting Malleus to see people as…well, ‘people’ and not subjects or those he’s obligated to protect. To cure his social awkwardness, there’s a need to get him ‘loosey-goosey’ and in touch with improv. What better way than to people watch? Except you don’t just sit there with him to observe. Malleus is thrown for a loop when you start making up backstories for everyone - based on their clothes, what they might be doing, or whatever else. None of it’s true. The ideas are all super embellished and with characterization holes…but it’s fun, and it gets him to think about how specific a person’s life can become, whether they live a lengthy life or not. Something utterly pointless to do, suddenly becomes one of Malleus’ favorite pass times.
Earth Slang (Inherited): It's a give and trade scenario. He improves your vocabulary, while you do Lilia proud by being the newest gremlin on Malleus' shoulder. Rather than teaching him Twisted Wonderland slang, it's much more entertaining for him to learn Earth lingo. Which is different. It's our metaphors, legends, and phrases like 'it's raining cats and dogs'. You're going to talk in SpongeBob quotes to him and he's going to believe it's philosophical. How novel, indeed. He gets to learn more about you as a person, and you get to have a bit of fun while also fostering a language shared only amongst the two of you? Like a secret code that friends have, or lovers? Huhu. It's not hard to crack at all but still fun.
"Hm? An 'updog'? Is this another saying or legend from your world? No, I have never heard of an 'updog' anywhere in Briar Valley. What is an 'updog'? A terror of some kind?" <- Heh.
Domestic Tasks (Inherited): Be still Sebek's heart, because bro might need to be resuscitated. Malleus wants to help you. Except he's found a situation where there isn't anything he can offer? Sure, he can offer coin and trinkets. Anyone can. It also is not his place to insert himself and solve your problems. You're an independent human and he isn't foolish enough to overstep that. So? Acts of service, even if said acts are 'beneath' him. This revolves back to him simply enjoying your presence, no matter what. Since you come with him to enjoy hobbies, it's only fair he does the same. Now he doesn't fully believe that you 'like' cleaning, but it's what you do most. So he'll help hang the sheets outside and then cast wind magic so they dry faster. He'll set up security charms outside Ramshackle, and enchant the paint brushes to freshen up your fence while you both share a pot of tea on the porch. You seem happy, and even a tad amused. So he'll relinquish some pride. If only for you to smile.
“Do all without magic need to take such…’extreme’ measures to clean windows? Please do not perch on the sill like this when I am not near. Else allow me this task, a simple water spell is far more proficient and safe” -> Man catches you ONE TIME, leaning out one of the second story windows to clean the outside glass and his heart skips a beat. Not that you wouldn’t make a lovely gargoyle on the roof, but spare him. He cannot fathom why one of the ghost residents can’t do it in your stead, but Malleus much prefers your feet planted on firm flooring (who’s going to tell him about all the holes and weak floorboards in Ramshackle?)
Nicknames (Developed): Malleus ceases calling you 'Child of Man'. There are many other children of men. It just so happens to be his default when you met. You are more. Much more. Which is why you cannot be his 'Child of Man'. Malleus actually takes to calling you your name more often than not. Names are meaningful, after all. Yet he dubs you 'Mooncalf' as well.
“Mooncalves are beautiful creatures that inspire. A name given to ‘those who dream’. That is what you do, is it not? Dream, and bring novel ideas that spark life in others.”
Strength (Developed): This is quite difficult. Controlling his strength when touching another is like trying to crack an eggshell with a power-saw. Yet the more you are together, the more he desires to touch you. So he has to learn. Since if he ever injured you, Malleus would never forgive himself. Often he hovers near, guiding you yet never making direct contact. His palm hovering near the small of your back as you walk, or taking extreme care when holding your arm. He's broken more teapots than you can count, and it takes months to share a bed. The fear of hitting you in his sleep caused insomnia for days...just, goodness. Don't even start on his tail. That thing has a mind of it's own.
"Fascinating...Hm?. No, no. I am by no means upset. Quite the contrary. Could I trouble you to humor my curiosity with examples? Oho, this is a wonderful evening indeed." <- Malleus showcases one of his pointed smiles - chin grasped between thumb and index as he listens intently to his juniors go in great detail about how you've begun to resemble him. The one other students will shy away from, but little do they know just how genuinely overjoyed he is. At first they showed mild distaste for the Ramshackle Prefect daring to go after someone like Malleus Draconia, yet all know better than to admit such a thing to his face. Else pity the fool. Yet nothing could dour his mood, their formal report reading like a lovestory in his mind. It is not that he is 'naive' to your mannerisms. You are always changing - as are many - and he would not dare to make any assumptions. Yet if others are noting these subtle changes as well? Malleus is...overwhelmed. Joy, appreciation, humor, and a bit unsettled if one asked for full honesty. If you are admiring him, including him in your person, as much as he is to you? It's an intimate commitment that comes once in a lifetime for his kind. He needs to think, but for now he will enjoy the 'implications' as much as he can.
Habits you steal:
Light Feet (Inherited): The king of jump-scares, ladies and gentlemen. Lilia is quite the cheeky fellow. He wades through corridors, skulking around like a bat on the walls. Both body and humor seem to ascend to new heights with this one - who without a moment's hesitation will drag you into his schemes. You may not be able to float, but that is no excuse to clomp about like an oaf! No, my doves, the greatest joys in life come from a good thrill. Others learn to keep a keen eye out for this bat's lover, as you slink about and appear at the most random moments.
"Oho!....my, my - your stealth is improving by the day. Don't get too cocky now, else I'll be forced to show you how a professional jump-scare is done!" <- Leona KingScholar himself has threatened to stick a bell collar on you, those from Savanaclaw taking a step back as you begin to resemble the more worrisome Diasomnia residents by the day. Dropping from treetops and banisters aplenty, the trickster ghosts at Ramshackle love their new fourth (and fifth, counting the ancient bat who haunts the halls just as much as they do).
Impish Glint (Inherited): Kehehehe~ it's physically impossible not to mimic that mischief laden smile of Lilia's! It's not as intimidating without the fangs and blood-red eyes, yet still oh-so charming. Why, the bat himself finds it positively adorable. It's one thing to have others call him cute - he now gets to witness the effect first-hand. The fact others can point your resemblance to him is just an added bonus. All you're missing now is the pink streak in your hair...can he? It would make such a lovely memory!
"Well aren't you just the most fetching gremlin this world has ever seen. Come along dear, I want to stir some youthful envy!"
Nose Picking (Inherited): Just kidding lol.
Historical Info-Dumping (Developed): One can only be corrected so many times before learning a topic inside-and-out. History lessons are a breeze with a personal dictionary at your disposal. Lilia is happy to help, but get ready for long stories with his bias weaved in-between. He never outright lies though, and it's a fine evening to sit with him by firelight and talk the night away over junk food. Treat it like hearing the story of an elder veteran. Except Lila has hundreds of stories to tell. There will come a day where your knowledge abut Twisted Wonderland extends far beyond what you ever knew of Earth - and you are the person people come to for notes. Even the studious Riddle Rosehearts trusts your word-of-mouth as much as his precious texts (only for history though, fair warning).
Speed Dial Takeout (Developed): This one is self-explanatory. Lilia's curiosity in the kitchen isn't something you want to deter him from. Let bro live his life, so long as it doesn't lead to the end of yours. It took months to find the TWST equivalent of speed-dial Chinese, yet a slip to Azul along with some recipes was enough to get the ol' ball and chain rolling. The food already exists, but you just had to plant some ideas to make sure that 3am last-second-craving availability was indeed an option.
"Don't look so glum now - once the oven is fixed I'll whip up a batch of Silver's favorite Mushroom Bisque! Ah - there's no need to cry. Now where did I put those takeout menus...." <- Now it's just Lils, Silver, and yourself chilling out at midnight with some egg rolls and moo-goo-gai pan after the fourth oven's been blown up in the past year. Thank Seven Malleus worked a plan with Azul set up a chain in Briar Valley, else y'all would starved.
Briaran (Inherited) : Briar Valley is indeed a land of tradition. You don’t need to learn their language to converse with fae. Most people in TWST are Bilingual - knowing common tongue and that of their homeland. Plus there are spells to help. Very few speak the ancient dialect from hundreds of years ago, which dwindled out after the war between man and fae with the ushering of a new generation. You already speak common tongue, but as for Lilia? Fluent in multiple languages. Ancient Briaran being one he slips in from time to time. You will undoubtably pick up many phrases of Briaran. Especially when he converses with Malleus, Silver, and on occasion Sebek. The third still a beginner to his personal chagrin. It’s like being a child in an immigrant household where your elders talk in their native tongue when they don’t want you to understand the conversation, so as a kid you gradually put together meanings through context. Y’know, as they go in between languages.
"I hadn't thought it possible to fall fall deeper in love - yet as always, you continue to surprise me." <- Lilia never asked you to learn, but nothing makes him melt faster than seeing you pick it up. You’re listening to him. He won’t ever jest over this, no matter how tempting, afraid it might deter you. He adores the way you mumble words under your breath, even if they’re mispronounced. He will only interfere if you ask, and be more than willing to teach. Ask him.
Habits He Steals:
Walking (Developed): Aside from when he's cheeky and looking to have some fun? Lilia will not float near you. He prefers to walk, feet firm on the ground, his hand in yours and enjoy the sweet serenity. There isn't a need to rush. Not anymore. Strolls with Malleus are a commonly discussed subject, but with Lilia? It's less like a sonnet in steps and more akin to walking the streets on a cold, winter night. Plenty of laughter as your linked arms swing between. Somehow slowing your steps on purpose, drawing out the time shared. Even if your lungs hurt a bit and joints are stiff. You don't have to. He could easily zip you both wherever need be, but the journey is part of the fun. He's gone his entire life at differing paces - and now Lilia is happy to match his final gait alongside yours.
Repeating Others (Developed): This goes hand-in-hand with you learning Briaran. Without prompting, Lilia will often repeat things his sons just said in common tongue. Sometimes dropping context clues so you can piece things easier. Not in a way that makes it obvious for you (sparing your feelings), but definitely noticeable to others in the Valley. It's an unspoken understanding not to ask 'why' he repeats himself two maybe three times tops.
"...eh? Scuzele mele. Ne vom întâlni în trei ore pentru antrenament. Da. Pentru practică. Asigurați-vă că nu vă zăboviți, altfel veți rata antrenamentul! - why that face, Sebek? Careful or your muscles will freeze like that khee hee!" <- Does it come unnatural? Maybe, but two out of three of his conversation partners can usually pick up when you're struggling to understand something. Sebek fails, but wouldn't dare question Lilia's speech and risk offending him. Translation: "My apologies. We'll meet in three hours for practice. Yes. For practice. Make sure you don't linger, or you'll miss practice!"
Intimacy (Inherited): Lilia is cheeky with most, but not touchy-feely. Not in the way that matters. He becomes clingy. It's odd being with someone actively seeking to be at his side all the time...and yet he does not mind. Which is unheard of for the loner - he spent 700 years of solo trips, wouldn't change a single one (okay, maybe a few. He could do without some scars), but the taste of a couple's vacation? A couple's intimacy? Romanic candle-lit dinners atop the castle ramparts, legs dangling over the edge as mindless talk comes and goes. Hiking through mountains hand-in-hand. Running raids online, shouting at each other from the next room? Sipping mimosas on a cruise ship - picking out souvenirs for your family an tasting cuisine. Even if it's places he's been before...with you? It's all new.
""You know...it was quite cruel of you to leave me behind. When? On that little journey to Fleur City, of course! Be it ten years ago or not - I understood at the time that it was a decision out of your hands, and yet you hadn't brought me any souvenirs...the hurt lingers to this very day and can only be healed through another vacation, won't you be my guide this time around?"
Normalcy (Developed): Lilia actively pushes the cute bit with others. Many portray his character as two sides of one coin: Lilia the General, and Lilia the Cheeky Prankster. What you get to see is...just Lilia. Not even Lilia The Father - because even with his kids, he has a part to play. Has to set a good example. Is it corny to say that he doesn't have to act cute for you, because he trusts you'll adore him? Isn't that what love is? To truly release your guard around him and not stress? It's like how on earth we all have our work mode, family mode, public mode, and then...well, us. The person we are when in a quiet room, alone, and simply being. That is the Lilia you, and only you, get to see. Lilia wouldn't get involved with someone that couldn't bring this side out of him. The one jamming out to metal while pretzeled on the ground, sifting through his wardrobe and eating burnt crisps out of a bag with chopsticks.
Time (Developed): In his last hundred years of life, with his magic dwindling, Lilia casts a glamour that lets him physically age with you. Not technically a habit, but also something he would never have spared the energy on without you as a deciding factor. Time comes for us all. He’d rather not emphasize this to his sons more than necessary…but they’ll watch you age. In an odd way, this is Lilia’s greatest ode to you. To them. To himself. You won’t have to age alone, watching him in a standstill as he’s been the past 700 years. This is his final thrilling experience, his final adventure- to grey and feel time in his blood beyond magic.
"You are as lovely as the day we first met, dear...surely I'm just as cute too, no?" <- No matter how quick you reply, he still is the same cheeky lil shit at 780 as he was at 700. Only with one heavy case of arthritis.
Nicknames (Developed): Lilia calls you ‘Dove’ for reasons best derived on your own rather than my telling. He will also be an ass and use teasing ones like 'shnookums' and 'poppet', but dove is for the softer times. On very rare occasions he will say ‘inima mea’ which is Romanian for My Heart, also known as Briaran in the world of TWST.
"Why, thank you! Kee hee hee, is it so obvious that I adore my little dove beyond comprehension? I've finally found my 'partner-in-crime' as you kids say, and my days have not been this lively in many years. Humor the musings of this old-timer, enjoy the blessings life offers while they are within your grasp." == Those who have lived as long as Lilia in Briar Valley are witnesses to his personality change. The general from hundreds of years ago is not the same bat flying about. He's a prime example for fae and humans alike that time changes us all - and so he doesn't mind popping in to humor gossiping soldiers. If anything, he hopes his open adoration serves as an example that it's never too late to welcome sweeter things in life. Family, friends, adventure, and even the once in a lifetime 'eternal love'.
Habits you steal:
Calling Lilia ‘Dad’ (Inherited?): Not Father. Just Dad. Daddio. Peepaw. Pops. Ye old man. So informal. So funny. Lilia loves it and Silver turns red every time. One? Because you’re already thinking of him and his Father as your family. Two? Please. Please, let him breathe. Flustered is the most consistent emotion he shows aside from that graceful little smile of his, and people are starting to notice. He’s not used to such bluntness and it’s killing him. You need to be more careful! Not everyone knows about his situation! Lilia is such cheeky as shit over it and teases his son every off moment. Welcome to the Vanrogue’s, my friend. It’s a clusterf*ck. You’re going to love it.
“…N-no, I haven’t seen father since lunch. Perhaps check over near the club rooms. I can escort you before my next lesson, come along and take my hand.” -> Silver will never get used to you asking ‘Hey, have you seen Dad anywhere?’. He bites back the warning for you to lower your volume. It’s turmoil - truly. He doesn’t want you to ‘stop’ per-say…but maybe keep it in private? He adores your energy but the rumors.
Compliments (Inherited): Silver gets plenty of compliments. He’s amazing, after all. This is a habit because his reactions are priceless. Why is it developed? Because the man in question is the most wholesome being to exist. He effortlessly drops one-liners out of thin air, and then has the gull to act confused when you clutch at your chest. Silver is brutally honest when it counts. His words and his reactions are genuine. Truly priceless. His confidence desperately needs that bolstering, so much that you never go a single visit without paying him a compliment. It’s only fair. You do it until he takes them with anything other than a pass off or a denial. Even after, because appreciating Silver is the best part of your day. Congrats. You’re a simp. Big Ol’ simp - side note, being so forward for his sake has turned you confident in other aspects of life as well. Congrats on being the social one.
"Your hands are unnaturally soft for a student. Perhaps I am used to callus' from training, but yours are warm enough to feel through my gloves. I heard once that you can tell a lot about a person by their hands. Yours must reflect a gentle personality, which is true - hm? What's wrong?" <-Wholesome. Fucking wholesome.
Animals (Inherited): How do you feel about woodland creatures? Would you consider raising bunnies, or leaving the window open in the mornings for songbirds to perch? The answer is yes. Always yes. Otherwise they will whack at the glass until you do. Silver is beloved by nature. Being around Silver means being around all the animals that perch at his side when he clocks out in random places. Eventually you'll be waiting with birdseed in your pocket, prepped to distract those that perch on his head. Ramshackle has multiple bird baths out in the gardens, and you've built shelters for the wildlife on campus to camp out in when they visit (always when Silver does. Coincidence? No).
Just Chilling (Developed): Not relationship-exclusive. Any time you find Silver clocked out, it’s instinctual to just drop everything and lay down next to him so it looks like you’re both chilling out. Doesn’t matter if he’s asleep for ten minutes or two hours - you don’t leave him. Not unless someone trustworthy comes to take your place.
Haircuts (Developed): A lil snip here, a chop there - and you're cutting his hair in the kitchen at 9:00pm with one of the old sheets tied loosely around his neck like a bib. All it took was one time for him to nick his ear while doing it himself, and you so graciously forced him in a chair. Now you cut both his and his father's hair. Since Lilia's a little turd, and if Silver gets a freebie than so should peepaw. Briar Valley could use another stylist, y'know. You already have two loyal clients!
"Thank you. My bangs can get in the way of my training, so I try to keep them short. Maybe I should adapt a cut similar to Kalim's?....Why are you looking at me like that?" <- Kalim's hair is adorable, but if Silver cuts off his shimmering silk-soft locks it will literally be a crime against cosmetology.
Alarms (Inherited): You sleep through alarms. There isn't much to say. Have you seen his bedroom? There's like - a dozen clocks in there. The only one that gets him up is you, usually whacking him with a pillow because no amount of love will ever make up for dealing with nonstop ringing every morning. You started off having a near heart attack on the first night. A few years down the road, and it takes about 2-4 of the clocks to go off before you're up.
The Way Of The Sword (Inherited and Developed?): Another one without much to elaborate. Silver insists on teaching you some swordsmanship. He does not play around either, and is a very stern teacher. Lilia engrained the danger of weaponry and battle into him from childhood.
"Steel your nerves. They will only impede your progress. Do not worry about anything other than my instruction while there is a blade in your hand. I am here for that." <-The sword exists to protect, but that does not mean you are invincible. He won't put you through a Knight's training - but as one of the few 'sane' people? Homie, you really need to learn some self defense. It isn't even about his feelings (although he does worry).You are a walking magnet for bad luck, and a firm understanding of defensive combat is necessary so you don't end up dead in a ditch.
Habits He Steals:
Wet Wipes (Developed) : It’s so tempting to draw on Silver when he’s complete zonked out in the ninth dimension. How he hasn’t woken up to any uh…hehe, ‘special’ and ‘totally not vulgar’ images all over him on a daily basis is an honest shock. Especially in a campus full of dudes. Some not so friendly with the whole dorm rivalry going on. Then again…maybe it’s his aura. Drawing a dick on Silver’s forehead feels like a crime punishable by Lilia’s homemade gazpacho.
"...I sense a disturbance." <- Regardless. It’s your civic duty to make him a work of art…much to Silver’s reluctant compliance. Some day’s it’s heartwarming. He’ll wake up and find little hearts on his cheeks, or a note on his collarbone. A lipstick kiss left smack center of his forehead…which takes endless scrubbing to get off before equestrian club. "Mngh...ah, you're here father? I could smell jasmine and oakwood and thought - wait, isn't that MC's pencil case?" <- Other days Silver wakes up covered in tic tac toe games with his father snickering over him and your form making a speedy guilt-ridden retreat off in the distance - and yes, Ramshackle smells of Jasmine and Oakwood. From repairs and the herbal cleanings.
You’ve Got Mail (Developed): Squirrels make good messengers. It helps that you live in a dilapidated dorm with a lovely forest not too far for them to skitter about. It would be troublesome if you lived somewhere like Heartslabyul…Riddle would never allow Silver’s animal friends to stay. Since you’re so open to suggestion, and skittering about yourself, he’s made a habit out of using the animals for communication.
"Please take this gift to them, would you? Today is a special day, I must take precautions not to forget." <- He’s not too big on phones since he might pass out and miss a call…or forget. So Silver likes to pen his notes when he can and trust his little buddies to make sure you get them. It especially helps with big events like anniversaries or days he cannot make it home.
Mints (Inherited): Someone get this man an Altoid, stat. Whatever curse is on his ass, crack open that tin and shove three strong peppermints between his teeth. They’ll spark more than just a crack of the great beyond in him. Giving Silver a tin of strong mints is like giving a Victorian child one singular sour patch kid. You carry the things around to punish Grim. Y’all know it’s bad if the living garbage disposal won’t even eat them….now if we could just somehow compress Lilia’s cooking into a pill form, we might be onto something bigger.
"This is a remedy from your world? Oh - it's candy? Maybe it will work then...thank you. I'll update you if there are any changes."
The Open End (Developed): Silver’s precautions extend to all matters, big or small. He’s trained to be Malleus’ guard since he was a little boy, going through strict training and beyond in order to match royal standards. Some might think him cold, but his father raised him to care deeply, truly, and so he is proactive in ensuring your comfort. When at the cinema, he sits in the inner seat. Both so he’s blocking you from strangers and so you can have the chair with two arm rests. He walks on the street side of the sidewalk, shares his umbrella but covers you fully at the cost of his sleeve, gives you more of the blanket at night and once gave you his shoes when yours were pinching your toes. If there are two cupcakes, he pushes you the one with more sprinkles, and he never forgets to ask how your day is.
"Are you happy today?...I see. That's good. I've been working hard to not disappoint you as a partner. It is nice to know my efforts have been yielding results." <- Ever the hard worker. Silver works on your relationship like it's training - but not in a bad way. He just doesn't want to reflect poorly on you, especially when this is new to him and tracking his performance in a relationship isn't the same as studies or physical training. He could do with some verbal affirmations, just saying.
Smelling Salts (Developed) : Silver does not want to sleep all the time. He is determined to overcome it - and you support him by suggesting method after method. Sometimes it takes an otherworldly person to bring in new ideas? Another cook in the kitchen, y'know. Can you believe that in all of Twisted Wonderland, with their fancy shmancy potions and charms, no one thought to get him military-grade smelling salts (or trigger his fight/flight by putting a bit of Lilia's pot roast in front of his nose)? His curse is potent, but it staves the episode off just enough for him to get to a bench or out of a clearing. I swear - magic spoiled these people. It's a blessing and a curse. It's no cure but he'll take anything at this point. Who knows what other ideas you might bring.
"Mm...thank you. I am lucky to have someone as wonderful as them in my life. I strive to be a good partner and influence. Your compliment makes me quite happy. I will be sure to pass on the message." <- Silver's expressions are typically difficult to read, they're so miniscule. Yet it would take a blind man to miss the way his disposition softens. One might mistake the far-away look in his eye for an incoming siesta, but no. He's merely in love and excited to tell you how appreciative he is to have you in his life. Whatever dreams he has that night, you're in them. As always.
Habits you steal:
Volume (Inherited) : Spoken like a true Queen. Literally. Sebek’s volume blasts your eardrums like a child’s screech plugged into an amplifier broadcasted over the Night Raven intercom. Mans has his vocals, there’s no doubt about it. The thing is that Sebek won’t stop until he’s been heard, so you have to get loud for him to listen. That can be hard to tone down when he’s not around, and you have to remind yourself that Epel will hear you just fine at a level 2 not 6.
"Disrespectful! My human can speak to their desire, apologize for suggesting otherwise this very instant. It is an honor to hear their voice!" <-Aye...sometimes your volume hits the frequency where people cover their ears, just as they do for him. He misinterprets this as a smite on your freedom of speech.
Gotta Keep Up (Developed): Get those legs moving prefect. Ya gotta go sonic fast. Sebek-y long legs over here moves in big strides. Big strides for his big personality. One of his steps is the equivalent to three of yours, no matter how tall or jittery you are. He will out jitter you with his Type-A pacing. You’d think he was on a mission and not on a date with how Sebek zooms through a shopping mall. Sebek, honey, we’re here to buy clothes, not race the evil sales clerk and save Malleus from the storage room.
Bookies (Inherited): You never know when you’ll be stuck waiting around or following Malleus with him. Sometimes it’s a sacrifice you have to make for some quality time together, and it’s not so bad. Malleus is cool with it, Silver’s good company, and Lilia is mildly stressful company. You could just go on your phone to pass the time, but Sebek limits your screen time. No IPad partners or brain rot on his watch. Read a book. Don’t make him quiz you, ‘cause he will.
"I have been thinking to start a book club, and you can be the first among many initiates! This week we will be reading My Liege's autobiography as sourced from the Royal Palace. I can think of no better introduction!" <- Dear god, he'll put in the request too. Stop him. You love Malleus to pieces but 600 pages on his birth alone is just destructive.
Prim and Proper (Developed): It’s a bit hilarious that he takes personal offense when you’re not groomed properly. Especially when near Malleus (of course). If you want to follow with the troupe, you need to look the part. He’d likely ask for a Diasomnia uniform on your behalf if it wasn’t against the school dress code. Secretly though? He enjoys fixing your tie, hair, etc. It makes him feel useful but that sweet emotion gets masked by a scolding.
"Tsk. It is an honor to wear this uniform. You should take precautions to ensure your appearance doesn't reflect on Lord Malleus. As his chosen friend and my partner, you are a representative of Briar Valley. Step forward and allow me to preform an inspection." <- Sebek has more than one jealous bones in his body. They’re all jealous bones. Make sure he’s the one to fix your tie and not Rosehearts, unless you want him to sulk.
Battery Pack (Developed): Lowkey? Sebek zaps you frequently. Think the electric buzz from pulling out a plug too quick. The sparkles come out when he gets very emotional - which is all the time. So…yeah, you might secretly carry ointment for that. Don’t tell him? He feels awful. Not awful enough to stay calm when you ask him to charge your phone. Jokes on him. The anger zap brought it to 100%.
Habits he steals:
Response (Developed): Sebek has this teensey-weensey annoying habit of answering on your behalf. He thinks it a way of proving his devotion. Partners are meant to know each other down to the tiniest detail, no? So when he responds correctly, it’s like he’s passing a test by knowing exactly what you’d want.
"They will do no such thing! Your childish antics will only reflect poorly on your dormitory. You will not taint them into participating in needlessly reckless activities!" <- While his intentions are pure, the act itself can be frustrating. Especially when he puts his values in your mouth when chatting with friends. It’s a work in progress, but he will still become overzealous to order your coffee or recall your schedule if asked.
Handkerchief (Developed): Exchanging handkerchief with one’s partner was a popular courting method in the past. Considering the handkerchief Sebek carries is meant for his lord, him offering it to you is a grand gesture. Especially since he does not replace it with one meant for Malleus, as this is something exclusive to lovers, and carries one from you instead. If you don’t have one? Well - expect to get one asap. Author’s authority dictates that you will not disappoint him.
"The embroidery on this handkerchief is exquisite. According to Master Lilia, it is the same style as lacework from my homeland's establishment...and it is yours. Please accept this as a token of my affections."
Portrait (Developed): Sebek keeps your picture hidden at NRC. There's one stuck between his mattress and the boxboard, one behind his ID card in his wallet, and a small portrait he keeps taped under his deckchair. He cannot properly display it like Malleus' - partially from not wanting to disrespect his Lord and partially from bein emotionally constipated. Expect the exact opposite when he is older though. Listen. Do not try to tell me this man wouldn't commission an extra-large oil painting of his spouse to hang up in his barracks room in the palace. He's literally the blueprint of a fanboy, and if there's no available merch then us nerds get to commissioning.
Escort (Developed): Sebek Zigvolt can and will sit in the husbands' chair while you try on clothes in the store. He will carry your bedazzled hot-pink purse with pride, guarding the thing like it's worth millions. You can leave your cup with this one when at a ball worry-free. You have somewhere to be and he isn't on duty? Sebek is hot on your heels. He has no shame. Better yet? He's the one shaming anyone unable to do such simple things.
Gotta Slow Down (Developed) : Pairs with 'Gotta Keep Up' as he tries to match your stubby legs. At first Sebek attributed your slow pace to a lack of stamina, but no. He's just a jitterbug. Obviously he can't tug you along or stop every other minute for you to catch up either. It's funny watching you both try and forget to consider the other. On loop, a never-ending cycle. NRC hasn't seen a pairing like this in centuries.
Chivalry is not dead (Inherited...just not from you) : Lilia fucks with him and you’re subjected to many, many odd courting attempts…some he unironically takes a liking to.
"What must I do for you to reciprocate my intentions?! I have bestowed pearls shucked with my own hands, invited you to dance under moonlight, hung dried thyme over every door and given earthly offerings to all your kin! I implore you for transparency this instant!" <- Oh...oh, His trust in your batty elder wanes for months after being tricked so cruelly. Only until you accept (out of pity?). Then he feels guilty for ever doubting Lilia and begs for forgiveness. At least life never gets boring? Haha...hah...ha...
‘My human’ (Developed) : Sebek gets hit hard with a crippling awareness for your mental well being. He defended your 'honor' once and had it thrown in his face that he calls you a human more than your own name. Old habits die hard, and he prostrates himself on the ground as an apology. He really didn’t realize it came off so derogatory. Especially considering your relationship. Felt awful. Apologized profusely. Only says it in an affectionate way or with pride now. Tacking in the ‘my’ makes it better somehow? It's a work in progress.
"An apology is in order. My actions until now were unbecoming, and I am truly repentant. I cannot begin to beg for forgiveness, knowing that my words have struck you. I was wrong. You are no mere human, you are my human. A very special one whom I could not have foreseen in this lifetime" <- You know it's bothering him when he takes a gentle tone, looking directly in your eyes with shame open on display. Responsible enough not to look away and face his wrongdoing in the face. Even after you forgive him, Sebek will carry this lesson with him forever.
Flower preference (Inherited): In the language of flowers, which means a great deal to fae kind, he goes for the one associated with your birth month. Carries a pressed one as a bookmark, changes his cologne, and places a vase of blooms by his bedside that never seem to wilt.
"It is an honor! I shall never cease striving to improve. It is only natural that my partner does the same. Your acknowledgement is noted and appreciated. Please continue to treat them well." == Insulting Sebek is a challenge. The comment could be made with the most nasty undertone, but he only hears that you're behaving like a model citizen. You must, if you are beginning to resemble him in so many ways. Hearing that you are a positive influence on him is nothing short of baseline knowledge. Of course you are? He picked you to be his partner? Honestly. If people have time to sit around and gossip, they could go do something more productive.
Habits you steal:
Acronyms (Inherited): Does this truly come as a shock? Big L on your part if so. C'mon, this is Idia we're talking about here. Bro cannot go two sentences without pullin' some quote out of his mental backlog. Since you're stuck in TWST, not watching their culturally founding shows and cartoons is a crime. You'll be speaking in pseudo-lingo like how Spongebob quotes make their own language around these parts.
"Whehehe way to debuff your charisma stat - you might want to craft some mimic gear before Professor Trein locks ya in detention....n-not that I care! It's just that I'll have to solo tonight's raid and you're the one with the rotation buffed character!" <- On one hand? You get all his jokes and are able to translate what he says to other people. That's good. Less work for Idia. On the other hand? You get all his jokes and are able to translate what he says to other people. They're totes going to make fun of you now and it'll be his fault. You'll get lingo-lashed by professors and feel burdened and - okay. He'll shut up now.
Evil Laugh Who? Villain Where? (Inherited): We all know Idia has two modes: nerdy and sofuckingarrogantheneedsacoldshower. You know exactly when he's feeling number two via his laugh. That over boisterous 'WHEE HEE HEE' which is way too high pitched to belong to a villain but perfect for when Idia's in the zone. It comes out when you're feeling especially ecstatic or embracing your inner gremlin. A bit more subdued than his, but you've seen him do it so many times that the adaptation is subconscious.
"Ah -?! What w-was?....No! NO I DIDNT SAY ANYTHING! Just hurry up before we gotta interact with more NPCS! Awahhh my blood pressure's already spiking back up..." <- He first caught it when you insisted on playing one of those cheap festival-games outside the main market in Fleur City. All he wanted was to grab a grape juice and get back to his group before they noticed he ditched, but you saw some handstitched plushies and just like in some mainstream otome, he just had to get it for you. It was easier than sitting there watching you get cheated by a sleaze. He was amidst convincing himself that he robbed you of the fun, handing the doll over while sucking down his second grape juice when he heard it - on one hand, is this what he sounds like to other people? Scratch that. No way he's this cute - wait. No. He didn't just think that -
Gatcha (Inherited): One of Idia's go-to hangouts is playing an MMO. The dude already gave you a console as a gift for what happened at S.T.Y.X. One inkling of interest towards one of his main games and he won't hesitate to build you a PC. He'll take care of the maintenance and even send over some matching accessories. Ortho will be the one to drop it off of course, but it'll already be set up with whatever games he thinks you'll want to tag-team in and some extra money to explore on your own....and thus, the addiction begins.
"Hey, press this button for me real quick. I need to test something. N-no! I'm not setting you up, uggh just do it would you?" <- Your pulls are better than his and Idia can't decide if lady luck is smiting or blessing him. On one hand? Ultra rare pulls are going to a beginner account. Yet you're more likely to keep playing this way....fate truly tests the Shroud name every day.
Night Owl (Inherited and Developed): Freedom...is powerful. As the Shrouds are responsible for Blot Control, you're left with little to do at S.T.Y.X. You can work anywhere in the facility. As a lab assistant, tech maintenance, heck even the kitchens if you want - but Idia's on that night-life and likes to work when most are asleep. So you match it. Maybe not to a T - going to bed at 6:00am and waking at 4:00pm like him - but time does get a bit disoriented in a place where the sky is simulated.
"Why're you still up? This isn't a 24hr stream, y'know. Even I'm not crazy enough to do multiple all-nighters in a row...well, I'm off for now. Wanna watch the PREMO concert from last week with me?"
Vitamins (Developed): You take them. Idia is taking them. No matter what bro says - he cannot live off the Ignihyde snack machine. Get him the kiddy gummies if you have to. You started taking vitamin D in preparation for moving to S.T.Y.X in the future. Surely they've got something better than the options at Sam's, but you won't be developing Seasonal Affective Disorder anytime soon.
Snacks (Developed): A very simple kindness. Idia uses deliveries as an excuse to get you to visit Ignihyde, and in the future that doesn't change. Expect calls to do deliveries around S.T.Y.X and run 'confidential' reports whenever he's antsy for a visit. We all know he won't explicitly ask...ah, it's reminiscent of all the bogus orders he'd put in at Sams so you'd stop by.
Habits he steals:
Financial 'Responsibility' (Inherited): You both are very bad with money - and by bad? I mean that Idia is a jerk who thinks he can solve everything with money. Minor red flag - something to address. Definitely the type to apologize by sending an unnecessarily gigantic stuffed bear or something akin since he's afraid of saying something that will make it worse. Then pray you don't say anything as he stews over a fight like 12hr simmering sauce.
"Please spare me your double-standards the next time you're shoving vitamin water in my snack stash. SRSLY, Headmaster's a worse deadbeat than I thought if you're living like this....uh, don't tell him I said that" <- On the flip side, he's also flippant with that Shroud inheritance and will buy stuff on your behalf all the time. He's the type to go 'Oh, I thought it was going to be more. You live like this?' when wiring you money for groceries (because Grim ate your allowance in tuna smh). As for how you're bad? You're just flat broke man, so he's responsibly irresponsible as a result.
Vitamins Again (Inherited): Bro. Bro, genetics are making you pale but that diet is what is making those eyebags so prominent despite having a decent skincare routine. You need Vitamin D but he needs the whole spectrum. His potassium is so low, that you'll be staring him down with a plate of cooked salmon in one hand and a bottle of vitamins in the other. Is it pushy? Sure, but you don't want him keeling over within the next decade. Eat the vitamins or it's time to raid his search history. Ortho, get them medical reports out stat.
RPG (Developed): Every chance he gets, Idia will model his MC after you in an RPG. A character customization screen HATES to see this man coming, because he will sit there for hours until it is as close to your image as the system allows. You won't even know since he plays these games solo and has photographic memory to recreate you without a reference. If caught, will deny it despite the evidence being right there. Flat out takes this to the grave.
Sour Candy (Inherited): Fun fact? Citric acid is the perfect stimulant to shock someone out of a panic attack. You find the sourest candy he can tolerate, and it does it's job. If anything it creates a placebo effect, where when Idia tastes it he'll make an association with being anything but anxious. One time he ran out while stuck in a work meeting, and Ortho had to swipe a lemon from the cafeteria.
"Eugh! Sour! Sour! My tongue's gonna shrivel up like a prune! I should have knew this was a prank -" <- Proceeds to forget why he was anxious. Stops himself mid-rant, face sours realizing that you were right, apologizes under his breath and doesn't question you again.
Protective (Developed): Idia teeters the yandere line, to be fair. He's highly protective of the things he considers worth caring about - scratch that, the things he allows himself to care about - which are few. Very, very few. His self-doubt both keep this protectiveness in line while also fueling it. He is quick to convince himself that he has little right over your person, and that it's only a matter of time before his role gets snubbed or written out. Yet the moment his position becomes threatened by something he considers inferior? He hates the thought of some noface coming along and making a muck of your life. It's not his fault if you don't realize Idia's doing just that - but he'll be damned if someone else puts their two cents in, pushing him towards a bad ending.
"Hey - so uh, totally unprompted question that you can just ignore in all honesty - but what's it like living with so many ghosts? They don't give you any trouble or anything - 'cause if they do we've got a few empty rooms over in Ignihyde....only if you wanna! I mean - we're a buncha shut ins but it's pretty quiet and stuff. Okay, fading into the background now." <- Do you remember the Ghostbride? Idia does. Vividly. He also remembers you were the only person aside from Ortho who actually wanted to help him and didn't need cohersion. Stupid move on your part but he's hyper aware of the paranormal now regardless.
Sharing a bed (Developed): Unheard of. Especially since he's stated how miserable he was sharing a dorm - Idia surprises himself with this one. Not a single person would believe just how clingy bro is - but he's only clingy because 'you're' clingy - or so Idia loves to say if anyone teases him for going back on his whole 'solo for life' rants. He goes from the whole 'eww normie love bleh bleh' to 'oh you normies just don't get it because you don't have it hwee hwee'. Look. You're the one matching his sleep schedule, making him used to sharing a bed and having something other than a pillow to curl around - he didn't want to get used to it, he was adamant that this lifestyle was an absolute no-no, but now he's ten years too deep and he's screwed.
"Snkk - funny joke, Ortho. Almost got me there with that one. Inheriting any of my skills is like welcoming a one-track path straight to doomsville. You and I both know it." == Ever observant Ortho is very eager to share all the little changes he's seen in both yourself and Idia. Especially when the latter enters self-deprecation mode and is insistent that your relationship is nearing a band ending. In truth? Idia notices. He doesn't feel entirely himself anymore, and it terrifies him. Not everyone's meant for companionship, and for a long time Idia thought he was one of them. Someone perfectly content on their own with absolutely zero need for other people. Especially those hot-shot nosy hero types that would try to fix him without asking if he wanted to be 'fixed'. Thing is? You haven't pushed him to change at all - and he's freaking out because he's not supposed to want this. You're not supposed to want him.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland x reader#malleus draconia x reader#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge#sebek zigvolt x reader#sebek zigvolt#silver vanrouge x reader#silver vanrouge#idia shroud x reader#idia shroud#ignihyde#diasomnia#colawrites
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ANYONE BUT YOU
synopsis: there are certain things that katsuki wouldn't allow for anyone but you.
warning(s): underage (highschool) drinking, switched between first and second pov in the third segment sorry, not well-proofread
a/n: wrote this for unofficialbf!katsuki again like duh!

"FUCKING DUNCE FACE! HOW ARE YOU THIS FUCKING STUPID?!" bakugo screamed, smoke literally flowing from his head as he hit kaminari's head repeatedly with a ruler.
"hey, man, if you keep doing that, it'll make him even stupider!" kirishima protested on kaminari's behalf, who already looked like he was seeing the light from above.
"like i care! he needs to learn a lesson! or anything, for that matter! we were taught this shit back in middle school!" bakugo hissed, crossing his arms and collapsing back on his seat.
"wait, but bakugo, i also kind of need some help with that.." mina said, trailing off when bakugo sent her a withering death glare. "actually, maybe i'll go ask yaomomo."
he huffed. "how are people this fucking stupid? like seriously, it's not that fucking hard."
"..katsuki? i need help with this question." you interjected a bit anxiously, showing him your paper.
he’d deny the way his eyes softened immediately. "tch. we learned this in middle school, you know." he said gruffly, giving your forehead a very gentle flick.
"i know, but i forgot. will you help? please?" you pleaded.
he sighed. "fine, c'mere. so for this step.."
as he taught you the material in a (GASP) normal tone of voice, kirishima and kaminari whispered off to the side.
"seriously?! that's the same question i didn't get." kaminari whined.
"i know! he's always so nice to her! it's crazy!"
"if he was half as nice to us as he is to her, i'd have at least a C!"
"i know, right? man, i want that special treatment, too!"
-
"..you fucking idiots."
tsu had called bakugo and deku to mina's room where they were having a girl's night. mina had managed to sneak some vodka in, so they were all having fun getting drunk and talking. however, by the end of the night, you, mina, and ochaco were wasted. luckily, mina would be ok, seeing as she was already in her room, but tsu had decided to ship off you and ochaco to katsuki and deku, as she was drunk herself and didn't feel like she could take proper care of the both of you.
"all of you are already fucking idiots. alcohol kills off your brain cells! you tryna get even dumber or something, huh?!" katsuki grumbled.
"kacchan! it's fine, really. come on, uraraka, let's go." deku scolded before helping ochaco out the door and back to her room.
"don't.. hic! be a buzzkill, bakugo. girls just wanna have fun!" mina slurred. katsuki could feel his eyebrows furrowing more and more as his irritation grew. he swore he was one more drunken idiot statement away from walking away right then and there.
sure enough, though, another drunken idiot statement quickly followed.
"katsuki! you're here! ..when did you get here?" you quipped excitedly, clearly not in your right mind.
katsuki ran a hand through his hair. "i've been here, idiot. for the past 5 fuckin' minutes."
you scrambled off of mina's bed where you were sitting and made your way to him, albeit with many more steps needed to get there from all of the stumbling you were doing. you jumped onto him as best you could, and he easily caught you. despite his grumbles, there was an undeniable softness in his eyes.
"missed you, kats.." you mumbled, nuzzling in to his neck with an affection you’d be humiliated by if you were just a tad bit more sober. he tensed a bit under your touch, but still adjusted you so you could cling onto him more comfortably.
"yeah, yeah. let's go." he muttered, quickly turning and leaving, trying to keep from snapping as you giggled and waved goodbye to your friends, wriggling in his grasp.
as he walked down the hall with you securely in his arms, katsuki listened to all your drunk rambling with never-before-seen patience.
"'nd then ochaco finally admitted to liking midoriya! i mean, we all knew, but it was so crazy that she finally admitted it!"
"did you know that kirishima's natural hair is black? mina told us! 'pparently there was some incident with a villain that totally changed him, so he dyed his hair red! isn't that crazy?! what if one day he can't dye it anymore because his hair is so damaged? his name is red riot!"
"if two people who have mind-reading quirks read each other's minds at the same time, whose mind would they be reading?"
amazingly, katsuki didn't snap at you at all amidst your rambles. he listened to your drunk babbling with incredible silence, simply dutifully carrying you down to your dorm.
at some point, though, the rambles stopped, and katsuki heard you.. sniffling? were you crying? he immediately stopped and lowered you in his arms to see your face, and sure enough, there were fat tears rolling down your puffed-up cheeks.
"y/n, what? you cryin'? why?" he asked gently, though panic evident in his voice. ever since childhood, one of his least favorite things was when you cried.
"kats," you sniffled, "'m i annoying? d'you not liking being with me?"
katsuki’s eyes widened. he knew you were just extra emotional from the alcohol, but he still never wanted you to think that.
"hey, look at me." he said softly. "i'd never spend time with ya if i didn't wanna, so never think that."
your face brightened comedically fast, and you were quick to squeeze him tight, giggling. "awee, you're so cute! 'nd sweet!"
katsuki rolled his eyes, but his eyes softened at the sound of your giggles. he'd never admit it, but it was his favorite sound in the world.
"come on, loser. let's get you to bed."
-
"TOUCH ME AND FUCKING DIE!" were words that had been roared by katsuki to just about everyone that had ever come within a four-meter radius of the boy. whether it was an arm slung over his shoulder in celebration, a high five, a pat on the back, or even someone trying to help him up or tend to his wounds, katsuki was very clear that the only reason someone should ever, ever, ever come into contact with him was to get blasted by his explosions and die at his hands.
so, the reactions of the red and yellow-haired (ba ba ba BA ba i'm lovin' it) boys at the sight in front of them was pretty justified.
"no way," kirishima whispered, a hand over both his and denki's mouths. "this cannot be real."
before them, they saw a peacefully asleep y/n on top of bakugo. on top. of bakugo. the bakugo. the "i don't care that my life is in danger and i need treatment! don't fuckin' touch me!" bakugo.
and that bakugo was.. playing with her hair? and rubbing a hand up and down her back? underneath her shirt? and upon closer inspection, wait.. is she wearing his shirt?!
the two watched silently as you began to stir awake, eyes fluttering open. you were greeted by katsuki's looking down at you, a certain fondness in his eyes. you mumbled a hi with a sleepy smile, to which he grinned (like a real, genuine smile not a demonic feral chihuahua smirk) at and ruffled your hair gently.
"mornin', dumbass. you sleep well?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.
"mhm!" you beamed before returning your head to its rightful place on katsuki's chest. you nuzzled into him happily, mumbling a sleepy "so warm.."
his cheeks tinted pink and he scoffed, but he still wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. he gave your head a quick, gentle peck and pulled out his phone to scroll for a bit, his grip never once loosening as he massaged your scalp and nape.
you melted at his touch, an blissful expression on your face. "such a sweetie pie!" you giggled sleepily.
he rolled his eyes and gave your neck a quick scribble, his eyes dilating at the sound of your increased laughter. "i gotta stop spoilin' ya.." he grumbled, though there wasn't even a hint of maliciousness in his voice, his lips quirked up slightly.
you giggled again. "love you, kats!"
"..love you too, loser."
(kirishima and kaminari, who were still watching on the side could do nothing but sit there in stunned silence. they contemplated if maybe you'd done something amazing to curry his favor that they, too, could do, but they both arrived at the same conclusion: no matter what favors they could do or feats they could accomplish, there are simply certain things that the explosive boy would die before allowing for anyone but you.)

masterlist
#jisu writes!#unofficialbf!katsuki#this could be read as relationship katsuki too#as goes like every unofficialbf!katsuki post ever lol#but i wrote this as like “technically undefined relationship but everyone knows theyre engaged” type yk?#bakugo x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugo katsuki#katsuki fluff#katsuki x reader#mha fluff#mha x reader#bnha fluff#bnha x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou fluff
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Fuck it, we ball, I hope that disrespectful anon gets hemorrhoids and they can't get them removed until next year, AND that their insurance doesn't cover it. I'm here thinking about your Omega idea where omegas normally do the pursuing, but with a slight twist; the boys being the omegas. An alpha who is for sure down bad for the boys, but thinks "ah, theyre out of my league, I should be aiming lower, manage my expectations". Only 141 is just as down bad for them, and they're doing everything just short of screaming "PICK UP ON THE HINTS, COME INTO OUR HOUSE AND BEDS AND LIVES AND STAY FOREVER PLEASE"
Johnny is about to say fuck decorum and just show up in reader's house wearing nothing but a ribbon and a tag that says 'free to a good home' (your home is the good one, please keep him, there is no receipt so you can't return him).
Price has the brain cell normally in terms of trying to gently coax you into getting you to say you're into them, he has a 15 step plan that may or may not involve using his various contacts to get you spending more time in close proximity to them. Also he for some reason is always baking, he always comes over asking you for sugar? (He'll take any kind of 'sugar' you're willing to offer, he loves making a variety of cream pies)
Gaz is always gently inviting them to attend 'friend' things, things that could be a date but that he can excuse as 'well we're coworkers/friends/neighbors, we should get along :)'. It's just a coincidence that various other people seem to bail except for any of the other boys, now why don't you sit beside him so you guys can share popcorn at the movies (you both always seem to be reaching for it at the same time, if your fingers touched anymore you might as well be holding hands)
Simon is chasing off any omegas he thinks are a threat to them getting reader, that is THEIR alpha, paws OFF (rip to anyone reader was halfheartedly going on dates with, this man is gonna become those people's sleep paralysis demon)
Hope you enjoy!! :3 💕💕 i lovedddd writing this sm omg
See, the thing is, you’d always thought of yourself as a decent Alpha. Not overbearing, not egotistical, not a demanding freak- just capable and steady. But you weren’t extraordinary. Not the kind of Alpha Omegas like them would look at twice. And so, while you worked alongside the men of Task Force 141 you convinced yourself to be content with just admiring them from a distance.
You couldn’t help it. They were perfect, as far as you were concerned. Perfect, and fully out of your league.
Surely, Omegas like them would want someone better. Someone stronger. You’d told yourself that so many times it was practically your mantra, the only way you’d be able to stop yourself from pursuing them. They deserved someone more charismatic, more confident- an Alpha who could match their brilliance. Not someone like you, fumbling through conversations with them, struggling to keep your feelings in check.
But they’d already decided. They didn’t need a flashy Alpha or someone who tried too hard. What they wanted was you. The only problem? You didn’t seem to realize it, no matter how obvious they made it.
John took the lead, naturally. He knew you were cautious and perhaps a little insecure when it came to relationships (it was fucking visible in you, silly Alpha. He scoffs each time you draw back, frustrated), so he made it his mission to draw you in- slowly and subtly. His plan was meticulous: get you comfortable, build trust, and create opportunities for you to spend more time with them so you’d see that they only want you.
Maybe then you’d break out of that stupid shell you’ve put yourself in.
He’d started baking regularly, a habit you hadn’t even known he had. At least once a week, he’d show up at your place with a tin of cookies, a loaf of fresh bread, or a perfectly golden pie. “Thought I’d share,” he’d say casually, though the slight smirk tugging at his lips told a different story. He peers at you, letting his scent coil just a bit more. “I hope you don’t mind the amount of cream. I happen to like cream pies a lot.”
The way to an Alpha’s heart is through their stomach, and all that.
If he wasn’t offering you baked goods, he was asking for your help to make said baked goods. “Ran out of sugar again,” he’d sigh, handing you an empty container. “Mind sparing a bit?”
It was ridiculous, downright unbelievable how often he supposedly ran out of baking supplies. But his visits became a highlight of your week, and the lingering looks he gave you left your heart pounding long after he was gone.
The one time he’d handfed you, watching you lick the syrup from his fingers with half-lidded eyes, still lives in your mind rent-free.
Kyle took a softer, more personal approach. He wasn’t above using the pretense of friendship to spend time with you, often inviting you to casual dates- grabbing coffee, going to the movies, or just walking through town and shopping. Every invitation was framed innocently, but there was always a little extra effort behind it. He’d pick a movie he knew you’d like, suggest places he knew you’d find interesting, and ensure that others you unfortunately knew joined just enough to make it seem less like a date.
Somehow, though, those other people always mysteriously canceled. It was never anything dramatic- just a sudden cold, a scheduling conflict, or a “something came up, sorry.” Eventually, it would be just you and a very smug Kyle, sitting close enough that your knees brushed or reaching for popcorn at the same time. Once, right as the bowl emptied and you both reached for it, Kyle simply thought fuck it and held your hand.
On one occasion, you both shared a bowl of spaghetti and ended up with the scene from the Lady and the Tramp.
It was so painfully obvious to everyone.
Except you.
“It’s not a coincidence,” Kyle muttered to Johnny one evening after you left, both of them sitting in the spot you were in, bathing in the leftover warmth and scent. “How can they not notice?”
Speaking of Johnny; he’s barely keeping himself together. Subtlety in missions are a must sometimes, but he doesn’t want to that with you anymore. He was just so, so, so frustrated with your obliviousness. What more does he need to do to show you that he- that they- want you?
He’s been dropping so many hints; half-jokes about Omegas waiting begging to be swept off their feet, suggestive winks when you compliment him in that lovely, adoring tone of yours. Once, while watching a romantic tv show, he’d sighed loudly and very pointedly said: “If only someone would claim me.”
“If ye don’t figure it out soon,” he growled at the others one night, pacing back and forth like a wild beast and probably on his way to leave a dent in the carpet, “I’m showin’ up at their doorstep with nothin’ but a red bow, like some bloody Christmas prezzie, I swear to god.”
John sighs, rolling his eyes. “You do that, and I’m leaving you on their porch.”
“That’s exactly what I’m askin’ for!”
Simon took the quietest but most direct approach. Just not exactly direct towards you. While the others worked to get closer to you, Simon focused on eliminating what he saw as obstacles: other Omegas who thought you were free for the taking. It didn’t matter if they were serious or just someone you’d gone on a casual date with- Simon saw them all as threats.
He didn’t have to say much to scare them off. A single cold glare from across the room, sharp bursts of his scent, or a low, menacing comment was usually enough to send them packing. He didn’t care if it was excessive.
You were his Alpha. You were their Alpha, and no one else had a right to you.
But even Simon softened when it came to you. He couldn’t put all his thoughts, all his feelings into words, so he did them with his actions. Quiet protectiveness, gentle, careful touches. Moments of fleeting vulnerabilities shared between you and him.
He was always there for you. Even if you didn’t know you need him with you.
Still, despite all their efforts, you remained convinced that they weren’t interested.
In the end, to no one’s surprise, it’s Johnny who snaps. Johnny, so close to his heat, so absolutely done with your obliviousness and the Omegas that aren’t them talking with you when you should be only focused on them.
He doesn’t care; leaves the carefully made nest with your stolen shirts and none of the others stop him when he just. Drags your surprised self to the nest.
“Johnny! You-“
“I want you.” He hisses, bares his teeth all sharp and desperate. “We want you. And damn it, we will have you.”
And well, who are you to even say no when this is all you have wanted?
#noona.asks#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#john price x reader#cod omegaverse#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#gaz x you#soap x you#soap x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly!141#poly 141#call of duty x reader#cod imagines#noona.writes
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Previously On Apologies 2 Tournament Arc…
Our two competitors find themself in a very sticky situation…
With Noir still feeling guilt over the waddle dees that “died” during the competition
And Rope MF trying to figure out the best rope fact to tell poor Noir…
There’s no signs showing that they could possibly ever be friends.
With the polls turned in Noir’s favor will things change for the better or get even worse?
This Time On Apologies 2…
CW: Some blood

Uh oh! Seems like Noir just made a bad decision! What will he do on the next epi-
.
.
.
wait… It’s not over?
Looks like Noir about made a big mistake that anger Rope MF and no amount of rope facts can fix that problem!
Who will come out on top?
Will Noir finally kill his first waddle dee in this competition?
Or will Rope MF show Noir why no one ever mess with Rope MF’s Rope?
IS THIS FRIENDSHIP SALVAGEABLE??!??
FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON APOLOGIES 2: “IT’S TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE!!!”
✦ SECOND CHANCE, GRAND FINALS ✦
Noir Fontaine VS Rope MF
⭒THERE ARE NO STRINGS ON ME⭒ >>>✧ VOTE HERE ✧<<<
this poll closes 9AM (CST) 28th of October and results will be posted on the 29th. to learn why we are no longer polling on tumblr, read our information post here
#Conditional Reblog#DISCLAIMER: IF YOU’RE LOOKING AT THIS FROM THE REBLOG THERE IS AN ENTIRE ASS COMIC HERE IT’S JUST LONG#Rope MF#long post#Like LONG#HOLY MOLY THIS TOOK FOREVER!!!#I AM SOO SORRY IF THIS IS EXTRA#I TOLD YOU IF ROPE MF’S GONNA GO OUT#HE’S GOING OUT WITH A BANG!!!#THIS IS ALSO THE CLIMAX OF THE STORY SO IT GOTTA BE GOOD!!!#Also Dess if you’re reading this please don’t feel any pressure to top this#I’m just really extra sometimes lol#This round has been soooo much fun! I’m also having a great time doing this silly grand final story arc with you too Dess!#I like to imagine Starstruck Dee and Valfrey are just having a grand old time chating#And there’s just these two bozos#also full disclaimer Rope MF is just a waddle dee#I just feel like if I was Noir and I knew that most waddle dees are practically harmless I would be flabbergasted if one just absolutely#decked me in the face#When Rope MF isn’t using his brain cell for rope you know you’ve fucked up#I’m also not good at writing serious scenes so sorry if it’s bad#Also guyyyysss we’re kinda cooked when I cooked with this comic#Can Rope MF somehow still end up on top?#if not I’m still happy Rope MF somehow got this far#and that I can do whatever this is#Holy moly I just realized this reblog is so long that it doesn’t show any of it#For me at least.
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♡ to build a home - LN 4 ♡
Summary: You're beginning to build a life with Lando. One of the steps you were excited for the most was building a home with him. So when it's time to finally start furnishing the house... let's just say we're glad everyone got to keep their fingers.
WC: 950
CW: fluff, two idiots in love trying to use their shared braincell..., not proofread
-=+=-
It’s finally time! A chapter in your life you were waiting for for so long. Not just building a life with your favorite person, but building a home with them too. You and Lando recently bought a home together and were excited to finally decorate it after having renovated it yourselves.
The two of you (mainly just you) spent ages on pinterest and various furniture websites, trying to put together an aesthetically pleasing home that could also make the environment feel homey and warm, something Lando had lived without for so long, well, at least until you joined his life. From the day you’d met, his life suddenly seemed brighter and warmer, like he’d been living in a plain, grey world prior.
After some conflicts and adjustments to the mood board, you both had settled on some furniture that you both loved. Some things were ordered to the house while the others were picked up in the store by you and Lando. Lando, of course, insisted on helping because 1. It could be some nice bonding time since he’s away a lot and 2. He’s a “Big strong man” who can help you carry everything… In other words, he was afraid another man would come to your rescue and steal you away. But that would never happen.
As you awaited everything you’d ordered, your home still only held a mattress, Lando’s gaming set up and boxes that were filled with various objects. One of those boxes held your collection of books. Your collection grew through the years as you got older, the collection expanding a lot quicker since you and Lan had started dating. Everytime he traveled without you, he would stop by a bookstore and get you a book. Whether it be a special edition of a book or just something he thought you’d like, he always came back with one to add to your collection.
“Baby.” Lando called to you, jumping onto the mattress where you laid.
“Baby.” you reply.
“I was thinking-”
Sitting up fast and gasping, “You can do that?”
Lando’s jaw dropped, “Rude?! You know what? Nevermind.” begins to stand up to walk away, hiding a smile.
“No! Come on, baby. I was joking. Tell me what you were thinking.” you say, pulling his arm so that he falls over top of you on the bed.
“Fine. Only cause I love you so much.” the man says, receiving several kisses from you that scatter his face.
“I love you too. Now, tell me.”
“Do you wanna go to ikea? I know we ordered most of the furniture or we’re going to some stores in person but we need to get some bookshelves for your books. We can get to building them today and putting away the books.” he says, moving to stand, “That way we can clear a few boxes and we’ll have more room for activities.” he says as he pranced around the room, twirling in the air as if he was a dancer.
You laugh at the show before you, being eternally grateful for his existence and the chaos he brings with him, “That sounds amazing, Lan. We can go now. That way we’re not up late trying to put together the bookshelves.”
“How hard can putting together bookshelves be?”
-=+=-
Lando and you took the opportunity to enjoy the day to the fullest. The sun was out so you guys drove with the windows down, blasting some Taylor Swift and singing your hearts out to each other.
Although the drive was fun, the same can’t be said for the adventure in Ikea… The two of you got lost for 5 hours inside of the Ikea. And don’t ask how, cause not even God knows how the two of you got lost, though it might have to do with the fact that you guys share a brain cell…
Eventually, with the help of an Ikea employee, the two of you made it out to the other side, half tempted to kiss the ground once you saw the sun again.
-=+=-
Finally, after a stop at Mcdonalds for some dinner, the two of you were safe and sound at home, cutting open the boxes that contained the pieces of wood to build the bookshelves. As Lando was unboxing the pieces, he began throwing things about, not paying any mind to what was going where.
“Lan, calm down. We’re gonna lose the instructions if you keep doing that.”
“Pish posh. Who needs instructions for bookshelves? It’s easy. I built that desk myself with no instructions.” he says, pointing to the desk that holds his gaming set up… the most basic table to have ever existed.
You put your hands on your hips as you exhale loudly, “Lan, that table has 5 pieces total…”
“And? I still did it. Ya know why? Cause I’m super smart and super strong. I don’t need the instructions… Now… where do we start…?” he says as he rests his hands on his hips, squinting as the mess of screws and panels of wood he scattered on the floor.
-=+=-
Building a bookshelf was NOT as easy and Lando claimed it would be. Not only were the instructions missing, but Lando kept insisting he didn’t need them. You tried to help him but it felt as if the pieces kept moving on their own. You felt like the boys in the Maze Runner, trying to figure out the pattern of the maze changes every night.
It’s been two hours since anyones spoken… so it startles you when he breaks the silence, “How… is the bookshelf… inside out…?”
“It’s 9pm… and we still haven’t finished the first bookshelf… we have 6 more to build…”
“FUCK”
#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 writing#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#norris x reader#mclaren#formula 1 imagine#formula one#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fic#lando norris fluff
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Pairing: Jouno x reader
Contents: NSFW, hate sex, penetration (reader receiving), forced intimacy due to circumstance/convenience's sake, horny people stuck in a cell leads to exactly what you think it'd lead to, Approx 3k. words
“Wooh, I believe in you, buddy,” you said, voice hollow. You were lying on the ground, legs stretched against the wall as you tapped your toes together. “You’re so strong and capable, Jouno. What a brain, what determination.”
A scoff followed by, “I have better things to do than rot away pathetically. How’s that going for you?” Jouno did not move from his kneeling position, ear pressed firmly to the ground as he concentrated.
“Marvelously, actually.” You looked over at Jouno’s hunched back. You could see the bloodied rips of fabric perfectly from that angle. Being stabbed that many times must’ve hurt like hell. “I think I’ve reached a serenity point. Nirvana and all that.”
The panic had subdued from earlier at least. The small room you were both confined in was just as suffocating, yes, but your body felt light. It was nothing compared to the shock of being thrust into consciousness suddenly, the sensation of your muscles twitch and move as you commanded them still oddly weird. The vampiric influence had lifted somehow, leaving freedom in its wake.
Something had happened.
But your memories felt like distant dreams. Your body barely registered as your own, even as you watched your fingers flex and stretch before your eyes.
“Your delusions are not amusing me at the moment,” Jouno said. You could tell his exasperation was building, tapping against the floor and walls as he moved about. It was probably a first his senses weren’t quite as sharp as they used to be.
“You’re not much different. I doubt you could hear anything; there’s no one down here besides us,” you said, rolling over to lie on your side.
“It’s not down here I’m concerned with. Something’s happening at the airport.”
“I figured that much. Lucky us.”
“Your smart remarks aren’t as clever as you think. Your precious Agency could very well be in danger as well.”
That piqued your interest. Jouno despised all of you, and here he was–not throwing slander at your face about them. Peculiar.
It was all of no use though. Not until you got your abilities under control, the effect of Bram’s vampirism dulling them enough to barely register they even existed. The room was locked shut, you tried enough times the both of you but the metal did not even budge.
What was left was to wait. And hope, maybe.
“You giving up now?” you asked after what felt like hours of Jouno moving around you, pushing at places you doubted would suddenly make a hidden door appear. His shoulders were tense, hands crossed tight as he oozed restlessness in buckets.
Jouno did not turn to you, but he raised his head to the ceiling with a sigh. “Your voice is annoying me, please stop breathing.”
You tapped the ground beside you. “I’m good, thank you. Want a seat?”
“As if.”
Your palm moved against the rough stone. You observed it intently. “I’ll consider breaking us out…” You pushed firmly, feeling energy surge through your fingertips before a small crack formed into the surface. “If you ask me nicely.”
In your full strength, you could cause a whole tremor to pass through the building. Shatter an entire wall. But now–this was the best you could do.
Jouno turned to you, smiling gently. “Oh my, I would love for you to do that. It’s not below me to ask for help, you know. But I don’t see the point of it when you’re clearly a shameless liar. Or delusional. Take your pick.”
You frowned. “Give me enough time and I might. Your ability’s still trash at working too, isn’t it? ”
His smile pulled into a firm line. He raised his hand up, the tips of his fingers glowing into a soft blue light. Jouno’s frown deepened. “So it feels. Damn it.”
It looked rather pretty in your opinion. But you doubted he’d appreciate that comment.
You fell into silence again. Nothing to be done about anything for now. Jouno looked more concerned about this than you’d have guessed. Fists clenched until he finally sagged against the wall opposite you. His hand remained aflame, small particles constantly dispersing about.
You almost felt bad for him. Knowing the betrayal he endured and seeing now his inability to right the wrongs.
It was rather noble of him; to carry all that weight on his shoulders. By choice. Not that it would do him any good, but you couldn’t deny the warm feeling that spread in your chest, heart beating faster at the thought. Men like him were a rarity. If only you didn’t hate each other as much.
Jouno’s brows furrowed. He raised his head at you but only for a moment. He shook it dismissively, turning his face to the side.
You thought he’d be more talkative, to be honest. He certainly enjoyed playing an ass but the more time passed, the less sure you were of that. Despair was one way to put the feeling that oozed from this room.
You rose up languidly, blinking your annoyance away as you strode up the few feet distance between you. Jouno pulled back, raising his head as you hovered over his sitting form.
“What do you want?” he asked.
You dropped dramatically before him, hand resting against your cheek. “Your panic’s sipping into my peace bubble. Stop that.”
Jouno did not look impressed. “Contact security then. I’m sure they’ll be glad to escort one of us to a different accommodation.”
You snorted.“See? If I joke, you joke. Then the mood brightens and all’s good.”
“Aren’t you a charmer? Nothing is good.”
You dropped to sit beside him. “I… I know, okay? I don’t know what the fuck is going on and–” you huddled into yourself, eyes closing, “–I still feel weird and my memory’s fucked and my ability’s useless. I’m trying to keep it together, okay? That’s how I manage it, so don’t be an ass about it.”
Jouno sighed. “Rather pathetic way of handling it.”
“Hey, fuck off!”
“I would if I could.”
And he bumped you into the side with an elbow. You drew back from the pain but when you looked at Jouno, he was smiling. Not the ugly insincere smile, but a small, honest one. At least it looked like it.
Man, this was bad.
You breathed in deep, small droplets of tears forming in your eyes. “Fuck,” you breathed.
“Yeah. I can relate to that,” Jouno said.
“Something’s happening up there. They might be dying and we’re just– here. Doing nothing.”
“What a good way of phrasing it. And you were so calm about it earlier. Your Agency sure could rely on you splendidly as I see.”
Annoyance, sudden and spreading rapidly build up in your chest.“Don’t say that. I’m not–”
“Not what? Cowering away in here? Or should I wait for your full response?” Jouno was mocking you, his patience waning just as quickly as yours.
You turned to face him, palm plastered firmly over his head. “Take that back,” you said, voice like steel.
“Of course you’d want me to do that,” Jouno continued, eating up the whole interaction. His hand flickered, the particles just as bright, if not even more. “I was only sharing the truth.”
“Take–” you leaned in, face flush against his as your eyes blazed, “–that back,” you said, hand flexing firmly into the stone.
Just as Jouno’s mouth opened, a quick response already on his lips, you heard the sound of cracking. You both froze in place. Small bits of ruble fell on Jouno’s shoulder, your hand digging into the stone so forcefully it had smashed a dent right in it. You watched in wonder the small spider-webbed cracks trailing up and down and everywhere.
You didn’t notice when you activated your ability. Your chest felt tight and overly alive with emotions.
“Anger me again,” you said before you could process it.
Jouno’s hand had trailed up, feeling the cracks behind him. “That’s an inconvenient way. What are you, feral?”
You ignored him, mind spinning. You’ve never had this before. But abilities were heavily influenced by states; Atsushi was a perfect example of that. Too many emotions and you lose control.
Become dangerous.
You looked at Jouno, eyes blazing with the possibility.
If you ever needed a more perfect man for the job…
“I hate men like you; it’s like you’re drowning in your self-righteousness to the point of not seeing the truth before you,” you said, serving the plate perfectly before him. “Talks of law from you is like decomposing garbage. It stinks disgustingly.”
Jouno remained silent for a moment, brows furrowed. Then a smile broke on his face, teeth sharp as he said, “Should I praise you? It’s impressive how people like you twist everything to ignore how pathetic they are.”
As if. “If anything you’re the one in need of a reality check. Accusing the Agency when we were clearly framed.”
Jouno pushed forward, getting in your face. “So you’d like to ignore the obvious criminals among you?”
“I would like–” you shoved Jouno back, one palm pushing his chest into the wall, the other cracking up the wall beside his head even further “–the so-called best soldiers in the world focused more on protecting it. What of some petty crimes?”
“Nobody’s above the law,” Jouno said, voice laden with pride that only irked you further. Like he believed himself an uphelder of that statement.
What a joke.
“Then prove it. As if you could. How could I know you won’t hesitate to strike at your own? How?” you prodded, searching his face for clues.
“I won’t,” Jouno whispered, grabbing onto the hand beside his head, clutching your wrist.
“You talk a lot. All words.”
“I would love it if you’d be sweet enough to break us out of here. Then I’ll show you.” And he gripped harder, drawing a hiss from your lips.
“You enjoy tormenting people, don’t you?”
“How could I not? It’s a lovely sound.”
“Disgusting.”
You wanted to punch him. Really, you did. Not like it would lead to anything. How he reached his position was beyond you.
“You know how I’m this good at weeding out the scum of this world? Scum like you, to be precise,” Jouno said, his fake smile turned to you.
“How?” you bit back, mouth twisting.
“You’re so easy to predict, that’s how. Even if you hide behind your self-righteousness– you still act one and the same. I’m merely being observant.”
A thought formed in your mind. Somehow the idea of catching Jouno off guard clutched you so strongly you had to see where it led. The pressure in your chest did not subside one bit, your emotions swirling still.
Jouno’s smile widened as your answer did not come as quickly. He was good at reading you, alright, even your heartbeat giving away everything. But if you acted fast enough…
You felt crazed, eyes wide with something as you reached for Jouno’s head, pulling roughly at his hair until you crashed your lips against his. You swallowed the momentary shock you could feel from him as his body seized up, freezing entirely against yours.
You pulled back just as quickly, enjoying the dumbfounded expression written all over Jouno’s face.
“Oh, sorry. Weren’t you expecting that?” you mocked, revelling further in the frown that pulled at Jouno’s lips.
“No.”
He pulled you quickly against him, no warning given. Your eyes widened as his hands grabbed at your face, lips already parted as Jouno kissed you this time.
It was all a blur from that moment on. You were pushed by pure emotions, blinking away your hesitation as you grabbed onto him. Your lips parted, inviting him in. He was all sharp edges and snide remarks, but the way Jouno kissed was filled with passion. A hunger you didn’t expect from his as he cupped your face closer, stealing your breath by the second.
Jouno bit at your lower lip, not giving you enough time to protest as he dived back in, tongue sweeping over the bruised flesh. His hands held onto you, firm around your waist as he pushed his weight against you.
Your hand remained on the wall, but not for long if this went on.
“Not a chance, you ass,” you whispered against his ear, before shoving him right back into the wall. You swallowed the hiss that left Jouno’s lips, and you felt the sparks of power travel through your other hand, denting the cracks behind him even further.
You smiled viciously. This might be an even better plan than earlier. After all, it worked. Might as well push a little further…
Your pulled at your shirt. You worked on your trousers as you said without looking up, “Come on.”
Jouno’s fingers drummed onyour waist. He cocked his head. “Not a conventional idea, but I’m quite adaptable,” he said before fumbling with his own belt.
Jouno seemed composed… if it wasn’t for the slowness with which he was moving. Almost hesitation as you stood up, discarding your trousers in a few quick moves. You kept your panties for modesty’s sake. Not that it stopped you from straddling Jouno’s thighs as he finally pulled at his clothes down, pretty cock strucking out and already hard.
You could feel the wetness between your thighs, but it was nothing compared to the ever growing pulsing. It’s not often you got turned on this fast, but the sight of him before you definitely furthered the process.
Jouno was stroking himself slowly, fingers deft around his shaft as he breathed hard. The red of his hair matched prettily the growing flush of his cheeks. His lips were parted, but no words were spilling as you both took in the situation you were in.
Jouno looked very kissable at this moment, ready and waiting for your touch.
Gosh, you wanted to kiss him til he bruised.
So you did just that, grabbing Jouno by the shirt as you sought his warmth again. He was not far back to respond, one hand grasping at your nape, twisting your face as he wanted while his tongue moved against yours. His other moved faster over his cock, drawing small moans of pleasure from his throat.
And here you thought he was one of the quiet ones.
Even better, knowing now the possibilities.
Your hand went down his chest, tugging playfully at his buttons, a sneaky finger trailing in between the open spaces to graze at bare skin. Every move you made fuelled more hunger from Jouno, the kisses building in passion.
You weren’t kidding anyone, you were about to fuck this man’s brains out, no reservations whatsoever. Keeping half a thought to your original plan was becoming even more strenuous. Pulling your panties to the side didn’t help either, nor did Jouno’s groan as you guided his tip to your entrance, smearing your wetness atop of him.
You pulled your palm to the wall, breathing deep. Jouno’s hands were already at your hips, the anticipation clear in the way he gripped at your flesh. You kissed him again, wanting to savour every moment of Jouno feeling your walls stretching for him, his pretty cock sinking deeper into your pussy as you lowered your body down.
“Oh, this is bad,” Jouno whispered against your lips, hips already thrusting in you deep.
“How bad?” You smiled into the kiss.
“I’m not lasting long if you feel this good already, damn you.”
And he moved, his pace faster and faster as you tried to keep your breathing. You didn’t doubt his words one bit, your arousal easy to match to his. The obscenity of it drove you closer to your peak, not caring in the slightest how pathetic it’d look if neither of you lasted long. With the way Jouno was taking charge, firm hands keeping you in place as he thrust into you fervently–you could only clutch around him, feeling your pussy flutter with every brush of his hairs against your clit.
It was… it was a lot.
“Faster,” you breathed against Jouno’s ear, keeping him flush against you with one hand as the other pushed into the hard surface behind him. You couldn’t see it, but you heard the sway of stone under your ability, the sound of it growing louder with every crack.
“Demanding,” Jouno said, but it was no complaint; he did deliver, keeping the pace you wanted all the way till your thighs started spasming, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pleasure that had you doubling down, face buried in Jouno’s neck as you tried to stifle your sounds.
There was no need–the bellowing echo of stones falling was enough to have you shoot up, Jouno pushing you back quickly as your eyes widened at the sight of the wall crumbling away behind you.
You could only laugh, looking at the ceiling as you lay there on the floor, Jouno atop you now. And still inside. He didn’t spare you a moment, raising your leg up for a better angle before he was fucking into you again, seeking your lips fervently. You pulled him to you, hands buried in his hair. It didn’t take long before he lost it, his high nearing by the second when–
“Fuck. Fuck, I’m–” he pulled out suddenly, his spend spilling over your belly in hot streaks as he stroked himself through it.
Jouno was panting, eyebrows drawn as he tried to gather himself. You did not let go of him through it all, keeping his in place against you.
You needed to get up and get up now, but the shock of what you just did was still flowing through both of your veins. A moment is all you needed.
Just… yeah. You’ll be back to saving the world, you promised yourself. Just a moment.
#bsd#bsd fanfic#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bsd x y/n#bsd x you#bsd smut#jouno saigiku#jouno x you#bsd jouno#jouno x reader#jono saigiku#hunting dogs bsd#bsd hunting dogs
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・┆✦ʚ♡ Ghost Code ♡ɞ✦ ┆・
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!ex-hydra!reader
Warnings/Tags: mentions of: violence, trauma/PTSD, torture and experimentation and mind-control. brief mention of attempted suicide. nightmares, depression, mentions of Hydra, mild blood, slow burn romance, healing, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 3.0K
Author Note: Hello guys! Sorry I didn't post last night as well as sorry for posting this one so late :/. I hope you enjoy this one even though it's kind of a cliche but this has been in my drafts for a while and I finally had the inspiration to finish it so :)
Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!
The cold didn't bother you anymore.
You couldn't remember when it stopped mattering, when the numbness in your bones became part of your biology. When your cells are rewritten and twisted under needles and coercion, things like climate and comfort lose their meaning. So, when you stood barefoot in a puddle of melted snow at the edge of a collapsed Soviet-era bunker in Belarus, you didn't flinch.
You just waited.
Waited for orders. Waited for the voice in your head that no longer came.
Because they're all dead now, you had to remind yourself that. Hydra is dead. You're free.
But freedom didn't feel like freedom. It felt like silence. Unfamiliar. Heavy. Cold.
Your name had once been Y/N. At least, you thought it was. You whispered it sometimes at night, tracing the sound with your breath like prayer. But in the long decades trapped in cryo between missions, you'd been called other things: Asset 12. Variant Echo. The Mirror.
A design parallel to the Winter Soldier, but different. Meant to compliment him, control him. If Bucky Barnes had been Hydra's precision scalpel, you had been the hammer.
The serum had worked. They made sure of that. Strength, agility, rapid cellular regeneration. But Hydra didn't stop at making you strong. No. They made you lethal.
They gave you Reflection. That's what Dr. Kravchenko called it. A mimic-based neural weapon: if you saw someone use a skill, technique, or power, you could duplicate it- perfectly. Temporarily. Sometimes for seconds. Sometimes hours. The longer you watched, the longer you could hold it.
You'd once copied a telekinetic asset for sixteen minutes before your brain hemorrhaged.
Worth it, they said.
Because when you fought, you moved like them- like anyone. Like everyone.
And they sent you after ghosts. Targets like Barnes. Untraceable. Untouchable. Unstoppable.
You saw him once. Back in '89. He didn't remember. But you did. You'd never forget the look in his eyes. Not rage. Not purpose. Just- hollowness. The kind you can only wear after losing everything you never knew you had.
It was the same expression you saw in the mirror every morning.
~~~~~
It was Sam who found you first.
Well, not exactly. The mission was to dismantle the last of Hydra's remaining data catches buried in Kazakhstan. Your cryo pod had been sealed in the basement of an outpost, hooked to a nuclear-powered AI set to wake you if anyone came close.
The AI failed.
You woke anyway.
And you ran.
No orders. No handlers. No conditioning. Just you.
Three months passed. You stole, hid, slept in forests, watched cities from rooftops. Sometimes, you thought about walking into traffic or starving yourself just to stop feeling like a weapon on standby.
Then Sam found you.
He didn't try to capture you. He just sat on a bench. Talked. Waited. Like you were some injured animal that might get curious enough to come close.
"I'm not who they say I was," you'd whispered to him one night on a park bench in Budapest. "But I'm not someone else either."
"You don't need to be," he said. "You just need time. A name. And some space to find your own damn way."
He was your first friend.
~~~~~
That's how you met Barnes.
By then, Bucky was trying. He was healing- sort of. Therapy, small apartments, government tracking. He was mostly quiet, all awkward silences and apologies that he never actually voiced.
You both met in Sam's kitchen in D.C.
"You don't have to be afraid of me," you said first.
Bucky didn't look at you. Just stared at the cup in his hand. "I'm not."
You tilted your head. "But you recognize me."
His jaw clenched. "I remember missions. Flashes. The file that said you were dead."
"I thought the same about you."
When your eyes met, it wasn't hostile. It was tragic. A mirror, held too long between two people who only saw ghosts looking back.
~~~~~
You didn't get along, not a first.
He was guilt-ridden and private. You were feral in grief and defensive as hell. You trained at the same facility Sam brought you to. You'd spar with agents while Bucky glared from a chosen corner, arms crossed.
You fought like Natasha. Like Steve. Like him.
He hated watching it.
Because it reminded him of what you both were.
But one day, he asked.
"How long can you copy it?"
"Depends. Ten minutes max if I'm moving.
"And if I don't stop moving?"
"Then neither will I."
You fought for fourteen minutes straight. You passed out. He caught you.
~~~~~
Your second real conversation wasn't much of one.
It was a stakeout- low-tier arms dealer connected to Hydra. You and Bucky sat in silence, rain drumming on the rooftop above you.
"You ever sleep?" You asked.
"No."
You nodded. "Me neither."
"...Nightmares?"
"Worse."
He glanced over.
"Dreams where I'm happy," you said. "And then I wake up, and I remember I'm still here."
For once, he didn't offer advice, He just listened. Stayed.
That was enough.
~~~~~
Months passed. You learned to coexist. Then to fight side by side. Then to talk.
One night, after a mission gone sideways in Morocco, Bucky found you on the edge of a crumbling rooftop.
He sat next to you, soaked in blood and silence.
"I read your file," he said. "Everything they did to you. How many times they rewrote your brain."
You didn't respond.
He looked over. "You still think you're their weapon?"
"I was," you said. "That's all I've ever been."
Bucky shook his head. "Not anymore."
"How can you say that?"
"Because I was one too."
You finally looked at him.
"And you're still here," he added. "Still trying. That's not something weapons do."
~~~~~
The first time he touched your hand, it was an accident.
The first time he held it, it wasn't.
It happened during a debrief. Sam was scolding you- again- for going off mission parameters and nearly getting yourselves killed. You were still shaking. Your fingers curled tight into the seams of your jacket, jaw clenched hard enough to ache.
The Bucky's gloved hand slid over yours.
You didn't flinch. And you didn't let go.
~~~~~
You had your name again now. Y/N.
A home, sort of. Sam helped you set it up in a tiny brownstone three blocks from the river. You painted the walls yourself, picked a couch that didn't match anything, bought a toaster you didn't know how to use.
Bucky stopped by sometimes.
At first, it was to check in.
Then, it wasn't.
You learned that he liked his coffee black and that he never sat with his back to the door. That he liked books but didn't finish them. That he kept your photo on his nightstand- not a romantic one, just a snapshot Sam had taken when you were laughing, wind in your hair.
He said it reminded him that healing didn't always have to hurt.
~~~~~
You kissed once.
It wasn't planned.
You were hiding out in a safehouse, bodies aching, blood drying, adrenaline fading. He was patching up your arm, quiet and focused. You looked up and saw the concentration in his eyes, the way his brow furrowed just slightly when he was worried.
"Why do you care so much?" You asked.
He paused. Met your gaze. "Because I know what it means to feel unworthy of being saved."
Your breath caught.
He leaned forward- slowly, like you might bolt. You didn't.
The kiss was tentative. Warm. Painfully human.
You didn't know if it meant more. But it meant something.
~~~~~
You still dreamed of cold tiles and screaming metal.
Of numbers.
Of pain.
But now, when you woke, there were sometimes texts. From Sam.
Or a knock on your door. From Bucky.
And for the first time in your fragmented life, you didn't feel like a weapon on standby.
You felt like a person.
A broken one, yes. But not beyond repair.
Not anymore.
~~~~~
The knock on your door came at 2:17 a.m.
You were already awake.
The nightmares had been merciless that week- so vivid you could still smell gun oil and blood in your sheets. You'd taken to sitting on the floor in the corner of your bedroom with a knife in hand, your back pressed against the wall, knees pulled to your chest.
But when the knock came, you didn't move right away.
Because you knew it was him.
"Y/N," Bucky's voice was low, muffled through the door. "It's me."
Of course it was.
You dropped the blade, crossed the room, and unlocked the door without a word.
He looked like he hadn't slept either.
"You okay?" He asked.
You nodded, but he gave you that look- the one that said he knew you were lying.
"I had a dream," you admitted. "Not mine. One they gave me. The kind where I wake up and forget that it's over."
He didn't speak. Just stepped in and closed the door behind him.
You didn't expect the way he reached for you- not rough, not rushed, but deliberate. His hands touched your face, cradled your jaw, thumbs tracing the line of your cheekbones like he was grounding himself.
"I hate when you look like this," he said. "Like you're still trapped."
You swallowed hard. "I feel like I am."
"You're not."
Then he kissed you.
No hesitation this time. No chaos.
Just warmth. Gentle pressure. A silent promise.
You melted into it. Let yourself cling. Let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a version of you that wasn't just created for destruction.
He pulled back slowly, his forehead resting against yours.
"I don't want to be afraid to want something good," he whispered.
"You think I'm something good?" You whispered back.
He nodded. "You're the only thing that doesn't make me feel like a monster anymore."
~~~~~
You didn't sleep much that night. But not for the reason that people would assume.
You laid on the couch in your living room, your legs draped over his, your fingers tracing the metal of his vibranium arm while he stared up at the ceiling.
"You know," you started, "I used to think if I ever felt this close to someone, I'd ruin it. Or they'd ruin me."
"Maybe we're both already ruined," Bucky murmured. "But maybe we're still worth loving anyway."
You laughed softly. "You're getting good at this therapy thing."
"I stopped going."
"Why?"
"Because I talk more with you than I ever did with Dr. Raynor."
Your chest tightened. You turned, tucked yourself into his side, and closed your eyes.
"Okay," you said. "Then keep talking."
And he did.
He told you about the time he lost Steve in the war, and how he still dreamed of chasing him through fire. About the way he still couldn't sleep in a bed some nights, and how his neighbor's cat made him cry once by sitting on his porch for three hours straight.
You listened. And you told him things, too.
About the weight of mimicry. How sometimes you didn't know which movements were yours anymore.
And how his were the only hands you let touch you without flinching.
~~~~~
Your first mission together after that night was a blur of bullets, sweat, and unspoken tension.
You were sent to intercept a rogue lab in Lithuania, one that was housing modified versions of the serum. Most of the intel was useless. The building was a maze. Enemies were prepared. It should have gone sideways.
But it didn't.
Because you moved like one body.
You fought with his patterns, he mirrored yours. You covered each other's blind spots. At one point, you took a hit meant for him- caught a knife to the ribs.
He panicked.
"Y/N-"
"I'm fine," you gritted out, blood soaking your shirt.
"You're not fine."
He scooped you up before you could argue, carried you through the smoke and fire like she weighed nothing.
You didn't protest.
Didn't want to.
~~~~~
Later, in the extraction van, you leaned into him while Sam drove.
"You're warm," you mumbled.
"You're bleeding." Bucky shot back, but his arm curled tighter around you.
"You kissed me."
"I remember."
You looked up at him. "Do it again."
He did. Right there, in the back of the stolen van with Sam sighing heavily and muttering something about gross super-soldier PDA.
~~~~~
That night, he stayed with you.
You didn't speak much.
But in bed, his hand found yours beneath the blanket. Your fingers tangled, like wires, old and frayed but still carrying a current.
You could feel it.
The ache of maybe, The sting of something real.
~~~~~
Weeks passed.
It didn't fizzle out.
It deepened.
He started keeping a toothbrush at your place. You brought him black coffee and cinnamon rolls. You shared books and swapped stories they hadn't told anyone else.
He never said 'I love you.'
Neither did you.
Not yet.
But every time you woke up screaming and he was there to hold you- every time he caught your hand in the middle of a fight just to remind you he was real- it felt like the words were already there.
Waiting.
~~~~~
One night, they were sitting on your fire escape, legs dangling into the dark.
You glanced at him. "Bucky?"
"Yeah?"
"If they could undo all of this- everything in your head, everything you've done- would you let them?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then, slowly: "Not if it meant forgetting you."
You didn't cry. Not then. But you let yourself reach for his hand.
And this time, you held on tight.
~~~~~
Sam caught you in the kitchen at 9 a.m. on a Sunday.
"Jesus Christ," he said, stepping backward like he'd walked into an actual crime scene. "You could've warned me. That's my coffee table, man."
Bucky didn't flinch. Just kept pouring coffee into two chipped mugs like nothing had happened.
You, however, looked properly mortified from where you sat on the counter, wearing one of Bucky's henleys and exactly none of your own shame.
"Relax," you said coolly, hopping down. "We didn't touch the table. That's where your magazines go."
Sam narrowed his eyes. "I don't trust either of you."
"You never did," Bucky deadpanned.
"Because I know you. You're a disaster in a leather jacket. And you-" he pointed at you, "- you were built in a Hydra basement and somehow still think I can't take you in a fight."
"Because you can't," you said, hiding a grin behind your mug. "But I appreciate the confidence."
Sam groaned and walked away, muttering something about 'therapy bills' and 'ruined upholstery.'
~~~~~
You were a team now.
An official one.
After Lithuania, Fury approved your for joint deployment when needed- Winter and Warden, as Sam jokingly referred to you.
Your skills were brutal, efficient, too well-matched. And though no one said it aloud, people noticed you always returned from missions in one piece.
Together.
~~~~~
One evening after a quiet recon in Estonia, you returned to Louisiana to lay low. Sam insisted.
"You need a break," he said. "Both of you. And I need help fixing my sister's boat."
You looked at Bucky. "You ever fix a boat?"
"I fought a Nazi on one in 1943. Same thing."
Sam laughed from the front seat. "You're both idiots."
~~~~~
You worked on the boat all afternoon. Your power- and experimental Hydra derivative of the Super Soldier Serum- let you manipulate kinetic energy through your body like an amplifier. In close combat, it turned you into a living weapon. But today?
Today, you used it to lift the engine block with a flick of your fingers.
Sam stared at you, casually walked with the engine block propped on your shoulder. "I take back everything I ever said. You are a gift."
Bucky sat back on the dock, shirt halfway unbuttoned, oil on his metal fingers, watching you like you'd hung the sun.
And Sam noticed.
"You're gonna tell her?" He asked under his breath.
Bucky didn't look away. "Tell her what?"
"That you're in love with her, you emotionally repressed snowman."
Bucky's lip twitched. "I don't know if she's ready."
Sam elbowed him. "Maybe. But you are."
~~~~~
Later, after dinner, when the docks had quieted and the air had turned sweet with salt and pine, you found him sitting on the deck of the boat.
Alone.
Moonlight silvered his profile.
"Should I be worried?" You asked gently. "You look like you're about to brood yourself into another century?"
He smiled, barely. "Come here."
You walked to him slowly. Sat beside him. He reached for your hand like it was second nature now.
"I used to think," he started, "that I didn't really deserve this."
"This?"
"You. The peace. The softness. All of it."
You leaned into his shoulder. "I used to think that I was too broken to love anyone."
His arm slipped around you.
"We were wrong."
You nodded. "We were."
A pause.
Then- quiet, raw-
"I love you, Y/N."
You stilled.
Not because you didn't feel it. But because you did. So much you could barely breathe.
"I love you too, Bucky."
And the way he kissed you after that wasn't like your first, or your second.
It was slow. Reverent. A kiss from someone who had lost everything once and had finally found his place to land.
~~~~~
The next morning, Sam walked in on you again- fully clothed, curled up together under a blanket on the couch, fast asleep.
He stared for a long beat.
Then pulled out his phone.
Snapped a photo.
"Blackmail," he said to himself with satisfaction. "Priceless."
~~~~~
Later that day, you caught him smirking.
"You're up to something."
He shrugged. "Just enjoying your domestic villain redemption arc."
You rolled your eyes. "You're so lucky I like you, Wilson."
He grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you keep that cyborg wrapped around your finger. He's better now, you know."
You glanced toward Bucky- standing at the grill, trying, and successfully, flipping burgers with his vibranium hand while muttering curses under his breath.
"I know," you said softly. "So am I."
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x female reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x f!reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one shot#bucky fluff#bucky x female reader#thunderbolts#x reader#bucky x reader angst#keithyp00#Sam wilson#falcon#marvel#steve rogers
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Happy Disability Pride and awareness month! Let's talk about Epilepsy!

Hi there! I got tired of seeing my condition (that impacts my literal every day life) being left out or forgotten about during discussions about disabilities, so I made my own post about it! Let's go!
First Off! What the heck is epilepsy? Epilepsy is the fourth most common neurological disorder in the world, and it's a chronic medical condition. Epilepsy is a brain disorder that causes recurring, frequent, triggered, and unprovoked seizures to occur.
The official Epilepsy Foundation describes seizures as follows: "Seizures are sudden surges of abnormal and excessive electrical activity in your brain, and can affect how you appear or act. Where and how the seizure presents itself can have profound effects...Seizures involve sudden, temporary, bursts of electrical activity in the brain that change or disrupt the way messages are sent between brain cells. These electrical bursts can cause involuntary changes in body movement or function, sensation, behavior or awareness." (Source link)
Sounds like a lot of fun right? This is our life. Even with medication, we can be VERY limited to what can be safe for us. Seizure medications are NOT a cure, they only exist (at least as of now) as a tool to help have your seizures less often, or be triggered less intensely. Even on medication, seizures can still happen.
If you have epilepsy as a child like I did, it impacts your entire growing and developing experience. I spent MANY times as a child in and out of hospitals, neurologist and specialist offices, an getting so many EEG tests done. The pain of scrubbing the glue out of your hair for DAYS is horrible.
At a young age my seizures were so frequent and serious, it impacted my brain's ability to retain information. I had to re-learn the names of things at age 8 and 9. I had to re-learn HOW TO READ at age 10. I had to be home schooled because the public school system of my state at the time refused to work with me. I have VERY distinct and vivid memories of crying over my little baby ABC's book that I needed as a 4th and 5th grader. I knew I should've known this by this age. I knew that at one point I already did, and it was TAKEN FROM ME.
As an adult, I'M NOT ALLOWED TO DRIVE A CAR. And I can NEVER go to see a movie in theaters or go to see concerts or live music. There are entire TV shows I don't get to see. I can't go to clubs, arcades, dances, or raves. I miss out on A LOT of fun things. I always do, and I'm WELL AWARE of the fun I'm missing out on. The social, casual, and fun life experiences I'll never get to have. That WE'LL never get to have. And oh yeah! Seizures can KILL SOME OF US. Yep.
And the list goes on, and every person with epilepsy experiences it differently. There are multiple different types of seizures you can have, they're NOT always convulsing on the floor. For example, I have complex-partial-myoclonic-seizures. Meaning my muscles DO twitch when I have seizures, but I'm not always completely unconscious and sometimes I'm even able to stay sitting up. However, I'm still very "off" and can't focus or remember much for a good while after the fact. I can't talk or communicate during one, even with my slight bit of consciousness.
My experiences are not universal, I just wanted to talk about it and bring it up. It helps to talk about it even a little bit. Here's more about different kinds of seizures. Here's more about common seizure triggers. Here's more about CORRECT seizure first aid. And here's more general information/resources.
Please stop leaving us out of disability awareness. Please stop ignoring us or saying we're "not really disabled" or anything else like that. Please. Why does it always feel like the only people who care about epilepsy, are people WITH epilepsy? We're so tired of being ignored by others who don't have our condition.
If you're an epileptic person reading this, I see you. I love you. You're so strong, we all are. I believe in you, I believe in us. We're so much stronger than we get credit for, and it's going to be ok. Your anger and frustration are valid. Your emotions and struggles are real. You're valid, and I see you. Hang in there, we got this.
#epilepsy#epilepsy awareness#actually epileptic#disability pride month#disability awareness month#disability awareness#ok to reblog#disability pride
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Hi! I was wondering if you can do platonic!eddievr having a little sister!reader? (Like 24 or something) and sometimes she likes to help record with the boys and investigates haunted places with them?(and maybe just some sibling fluff too please) :>
Haunted Asylum/ Eddie VR
MASTERLIST TAGLIST
Warnings: sister!reader, brother!Eddie, platonic!boys, scary ghost shit, stanky leg, cussing, boys as usual, stupidity, you might have a crush on colby, protective!eddie, scary ghost demon,
Summery: You and Eddie have an imbreakable sibling bond when your not being rude to each other. Which you both show in rare times when things get serious. (or perhaps when you get targeted)
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
This video started out like any others on your brother’s boys channel. It continued on with small, stupid jokes and more ‘boy shit’ as you like to call it. Everything was going pretty normal for a haunted video so far, which was; very scary.
A few hours in, you all came into the superintendent's office or the warden’s office for easier wording. You, the boys and the two camera people, Alana and Dose, were gathered in the office space. Mully started to ask a question which got interrupted halfway through. “Do you guys ever regret-”.
"Yes, everything." Sam and Colby both say. To which everyone laughs at as Mully replies. You make the ‘aye’ sound as you dab them both up.
“Me too guys, oh my God. Twinies-well would it be triplets?” You make a confused face, tilting your head, trying to decipher your own words. Sam nodded in understanding, “Ah yeah, for sure triplets.”
“Yeah, 'makes more sense.” Narrator adds. Mully grumbles, rolling his eyes in a joking way as he retorts. “You didn’t even let me finish.”
“That’s what she said!” You point out with a large grin on your face feeling proud of yourself for that joke.
While everyone except Narrator, Sam, Colby, and you shook their heads since they were used to it. Though of course Narrator would find it funny since he always tells dad jokes.
----------
Later on when Mully goes into the Estes method; Alana turns the camera light off and uses the night vision mode. “Oh shit!” Sam exclaims, jumping in his seat from the sudden darkness.
“Is this a bad time to say I’m afraid of the dark?” You chuckle nervously, leaning against Eddie from where you sat next to him.
“EEW, you got cooties!” He made a disgusted face and pushed you off him and into Colby; who sat on the other side of you. “It’s okay Y/n, I’ll protect you from the ghosts.” He claims, flexing his biceps, then wrapping one arm around your shoulders.
“Man, I don’t even know this guy and he’s already much better than you, ugly.” You stick your tongue out at Eddie and he does the same back to you, scrunching his nose. You two have always acted like little pricks to each other.
Narrator gasps aloud and points to the doorway. “I swear to God I just saw someone in the doorway.”
“Shut your fucking mouth. Nuh-uh!” You point your pointer finger at him quickly. Then, both your hands gripped the closest thing nearby, which was Colby’s other arm.
Since you had at least one brain cell left and definitely wouldn’t want to squeeze his thighs, even though that sounds very delightful in your mind.
You hide your face in Colby’s jacket, accidentally pinching him in the process. He lets out a small ‘ah’ sound. Your eyes widen, glad no one can see your face right now as you could feel your cheeks and ears start to heat up in embarrassment.
“So sorry.” You spit out, whispering to make sure no one hears and makes it a big deal. “It’s fine. I’m a big boy.” Colby also whispered and sent you a reassuring smile; or of what you can see in the darkness, deflating most of your worries.
Feeling his muscles through the layers of clothes, what a pity it was cold in here, you decide you didn’t want to be teased anymore than you felt.
“The cat ball is going off!” Your ears pick up Sam’s voice through the room.
You back your head away from his chest and unfortunately keep your hands to yourself. And once situated in your spot once more, you let go completely from Colby, pouting in the dark since you wanted to hold on longer.
About ten minutes go by and somehow Narrator is teaching the ghost/spirit the stanky leg, again might you add as he said earlier his group had previously done it, but you didn’t believe them.
Sam was also now in the Estes Method, speaking as the spirit. Now you can see it right in front of you, which is ridiculous. Narrator continued to do the stanky leg until he got an idea.
Of which he was trying to say, but then got cut off by Sam. “I’m gonna walk over to this thing right here in the corner-” “It’s enough of Grant.”
And everyone ‘Oohh’d at that.
“That’s right. Sit the fuck down, hoe.” Your voice mends with their laughter and voices from the situation. Eddie saying, “Sit down. Sit down.” This is absolutely crazy, you think. And continuing with the questions, there was a big thud sounding above them, then Colby freaked out.
“Dude, I felt, like, a big vibration right behind me.” He pointed behind him, showing where he heard it at.
“What!? Don’t say that you fucking dick.” You gasped, slapping his shoulder in a ‘no way!’ way. “I did not move, bro.” Eddie’s shocked voice joined.
“I'm not lying dude. Did either of you like, hit the floor? Like that.” Colby made a show of hitting his hand on the floor behind you two, to make the noise of what he had heard previously. “It got colder, did you feel it?” Josh adds, looking around at everyone.
“Yeah, definitely got colder.” Juicy nods.
Colby gasps and points past you at the doorway, “Wait a light came on in the hallway, did you see that?”
“No bitch, cause like, what the fuckity fuck fuck, man.” You reach over and grab Eddie’s hand, holding it tight as he squeezes back letting you know he’s there for you.
Even if you guys fight a lot(most times you're near each other) you’re both proud to be siblings and will absolutely protect one another if need be. And in this moment it’s you needing comfort from your big brother. Everyone is talking over each other about what’s occurring.
“I don’t stop.” Sam remarks. “Woahh. My thing’s going off!” Josh shows his EMF detector out for everyone to see.
Somehow it’s now you that’s seeing shit all over the room and in the hallway past the door. You squeeze on the bigger hand in yours as you see a shadow move past by the doorway and a light glare in your eyes.
“What the fuck, Eddie! There was just a shadow figure in the hallway! And the light again!” You freak out, pointing excessively at the door.
“That’s me.” Sam says. All the boys, plus you, freak out again. And Juicy says, “Come in the room.”
“No Gaege, like, no. No, shut the fuck up, no!” You basically yell at Juicy, how could he say that when you’re seeing things? Such a massive weenie.
“I’m showing up.” Sam says. While everyone says, “Show up then.” You chuckle nervously, standing from your seat on the floor, letting go of Eddie’s hand.
“Okay guys, this is where I’ll leave.” You clap your hands together taking a step forward when a huge bang was heard through the hallway. “NOPE!. Nevermind guys, I changed my mind.” You waved your hands down and hurriedly sat back next to your brother, holding his arm with your hand for dear life.
“Show up then, come inside.” Narrator demands.
You scoff, “Are you crazy? I hate you.” You stare right at him, shaking your head in disappointment.
The boys and you all stare at the doorway hoping to see something or anything. Not that you really wanted to since it really freaked you out, but it’s honestly pretty cool when you come to your senses and aren't at the haunted building anymore.
Your eyes catch something once again pass by and gasp, wrapping your arms around Eddie's middle body, burying your face into his shoulder. He sets down the Thermal camera he held and makes a way of throwing his own arms over your shoulders, hugging you tight, knowing how scary this all is.
“Dude, you can see it. You can see it!” Mully exclaims pointing again at the door. Your brother hugs you impossibly tighter and scoots you both back further from the doorway where everyone is seeing the same shadow thing.
“What the fuck was that?!” Eddie’s shocked and shaky voice rings out in your ears as he snuggles you into him further, trying to protect you from whatever is in the hallway, whether it be good or bad.
All the boys start to project their concerns about what was in the hallway. A few of them asked what happened to you as they were too focused a few minutes earlier on the dark figure to notice you practically embedded with Eddie.
Most of them say they saw the shadow glide past the door and others saying it was standing there peeking from the wall. “It’s okay sis, nothing’s gonna get us. I’ll make sure of it.” Eddie whispers against your head, then gently kisses it as he lays his cheek on top of it.
And you know as long as he can; that will be the truth. Now that provokes the unshed tears in your eyes that you were trying to hold in for long as this was going on. He hears the shift in your breathing and sniffles through all the guys talking amongst themselves.
He rubs your back gently with one hand, knowing a way to calm you down. “You see me.” Sam’s forgotten voice cuts through the thick tension in the air.
“Oookay. Woah, my thing and that thing just went off.” Josh points out. Though you can’t see, you can hear and that makes you whimper in fear and squeeze your eyes shut more than they already are in hopes to leave this stupid place.
This whole night has consisted of scary moments and in all of them you tried to be seen as not terrified, but that’s exactly what you were and you couldn’t take hiding it anymore.
Your brother knew you very well and he could tell when you needed a break. He could also tell when you were too scared to continue and was counting now as that time.
”Alright, this is crazy and I need to take Y/n away before this gets worse.” Eddie spoke up, grabbing everyone's attention and letting them know through his facial expression what needs to happen; not wanting to embarrass you.
“Pink, in the corner.” Sam spoke suddenly. Everyone sees the situation transpiring and moves along with their friend’s idea. Curled against Eddie’s side still, your shoulders tremble with your heavy, crying breaths.
“I think we should stop for a bit.” Eddie says. Everyone agreed with him, but went on to say they need to ask a few more questions to see what was there and then finish up. They try to make it as fast as possible.
“It’s time. I’m ready.” The spirit speaks through Sam. "Ready for what exactly?” Juicy asks.
Such a terrible question, you think.
“Y/n.” Sam frowns with a furrow in his brows, obviously confused.
Some guys exclaim in disbelief of why he said your name. “I think we should go look and see what’s out there.” Your, apparently stupid, brother suggests.
“Mexicans don’t do this shit, bro.” You mumble into his jacket, voice sounding stuffy. Eddie laughs, then repeats what you said to the rest when they ask what’s so funny.
"Ironic, you say that Eddie! Y/n’s on your ass tonight!” Mully snickers at the huddled couple of weirdos.
“Yeah! Somebody has gotta be out there with, like a flashlight.” Colby freaks out and jolts out of his seat, standing among you guys when he sees a light turn on by itself. “Did you see that? The light in the hallway?” He points down the hall again, backing up a step.
“I’m taking a picture!” Eddie takes a picture of the doorway and hall with the Thermal camera he sat down earlier just as Sam says, “Hi.”
Knocks sound at the other door to the left as Sam speaks again, “Want. Her.”
“Okay, okay, okay. Time for an actual break, c’mon.” Eddie lifts the both of you as carefully as he could, not wanting you to be too spooked by anything else said or done. He knows how you can get when showing that you're scared.
You hate it.
All the guys, Alana and you made way for the exit, not forgetting to take Sam out of the Estes. (almost, oops!) They all gathered all the equipment and went outside to revise what had really occurred. All of them telling Sam the unbelievable things he’s said and what went on when he was under.
Eddie walked you down by the car knowing you wanted to be far from everyone ‘cause you didn’t want them to see you like this. After you rested a bit and calmed your breathing; amongst other things, you went to join the others.
Dose was showing everyone the footage of the scene just before you left. “What, broo!” Juicy shouts, laughing as a nervous tick, pointing at the camera with one hand while the other covers his mouth.
The other’s have a similar reaction as him, including your brother, who is now realizing how terrible of an idea it was to bring you.
On the camera viewfinder showed a tall, dark shadow figure peeking from behind the hallway wall; which kind of has the portrait of Slenderman.
He brought you away from the rest with a hand on your shoulder gazing at you with a very serious facial expression. To which almost made you clench your butt from.
How is he so scary?, you think. Oh right, dad of course, ugh.
You remain calm, although you kinda want to shit yourself, curious as to what he was gonna say. “You can’t go back in.” He said with a straight face, shaking his head lightly.
Your jaw drops slightly in shock, furrowing your eyebrows. “What? No, I wanna go back. At least then I’ll be with people.” You showed your hand to the group gathered around Dose’s camera.
“Well, then I can have one of the boys or Alana stay out with you.” He shrugged, taking his hand off you and both into his pockets.
“But then what if something happens to us and you’re not here? I need my big brother to protect me.” You scoff, knowing internally that this will work; it almost always does. I mean who wants to go tell your mom some ghost thing attacked your sister and you weren't even around to help?
Not Eddie, of course.
Plus not to mention the whole you’re actually scared thing and you would rather Eddie hover over you than be a burden to the man watching over you like a babysitter.
Speaking of Eddie, he sighed, a sign of him surrendering to your ‘sister spell’ as he would put it. “Alright, but! You will be right next to me the whole time. I don’t care if you have to shit, I’m gonna be outside the door.”
Now that makes you laugh, a good, hearty laugh, which you both needed as he joined in hearing how stupid it sounded. You playfully punch his shoulder, smiling triumphantly as he fake cries in silence from the pain.
“Ugh, you big baby.” You say, rolling your eyes as you walk away to the group talking amongst themselves. “Wait up, slug face!” He came jogging up to you and threw an arm over your shoulder pressing you tight against his chest, wrangling you.
“Whatever, beetle head.” You rolled your eyes again, grumbling about your personal space ruined.
For the rest of the night Eddie had made sure to be by your side whenever and wherever you were, making you feel much better about the previous occurrence.
He protects you with his whole heart.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
Taglist: @liv123sworld @colbsposts00
#soph'saus#sophsasks#yeptheboys#theboysvr#yep the boys x reader#the boys vr#the boys#eddievr x reader#eddievr#eddie x reader#platonic#eddievr is your brother#mullen#mully#mullyvr#youtube#sam and colby#sam golbach#colby brock#joshdub#colby brock x reader#juicyfruitsnacks#gaege gibson#your narrator#eddievr fanfic#eddievr fluff
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🧼 Soap x CIA Analyst!Reader — Part One
Summary: You accidentally hacked the Pentagon. Laswell gave you a choice: federal prison, or working for the CIA under Task Force 141. You're 19, brilliant, sarcastic, and completely unprepared for someone like Johnny “Soap” MacTavish.
(According to google Soap is about 23-26 years old...I don't play cod I just like Neil)
Rating: Teen 16+ YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION
Author notes: This is my first time writing fanfiction—please be gentle. Also this is fanfiction don’t get all “Soap wouldn't do that” you’ll never know because he’s dead and not real (this fanfiction is catered to me and what i like) : >
Tags: Age gap, Hacker!reader, CIA!reader, Fluff
》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ * 。° 。 • * 。° 。 • * 。° 。 • * 。° 。 ˚《
🧼 Soap x CIA Analyst!Reader – First Impressions
Soap side-eyed you the second Laswell introduced you, whispering to Gaz, “She looks like she’s still taking her SATs.” He was expecting some hardened spook, not someone with oversized headphones and a hoodie that said “I void warranties.”
You were cross-legged on the floor of the tech lab, surrounded by open laptops and wires, eating cereal straight out of the box like it was your natural habitat. To Soap, it looked less like a military assignment and more like someone had broken into a server room and just decided to stay.
Your first words to him were, “Nice fade. Did the clippers run out of battery halfway?” It caught him so off guard that he blinked twice before laughing—half offended, half impressed.
He stood there stunned, staring at you like you’d just challenged him to a duel. Soap was used to respect or at least intimidation from new recruits—not some teenage hacker roasting his haircut in front of Price.
He tried telling you a dramatic story from a mission in Syria, thinking it’d impress you. But you didn’t even look up from your laptop, just muttered, “Cool. I crashed a North Korean satellite once by mistake.”
You assumed he was all biceps and zero brain cells—just another loud guy with too many guns and not enough security clearance. He, on the other hand, was sure you'd burst into tears the first time someone barked at you over comms.
Within the first week, the team was betting on how long it would take before one of you snapped. Either one of you will kiss one another or one of you will put a bullet through someone’s head. The tension between Soap's broody energy and your dry, deadpan sarcasm was enough to light the entire barracks on fire.
One morning, you accidentally rolled your chair over his foot and didn’t even look up. He groaned loudly, overdramatized the pain, and later filed a fake report accusing you of “reckless driving of government-issued swivel equipment.”
You called him “Bootcut Barbie” after walking past the gym and catching him flexing in the mirror. Instead of getting mad, he grinned and started calling you “Control Freak Barbie” every time you told him to use a stronger password.
Neither of you noticed how often you gravitated toward each other during team meetings or meals. You always ended up sitting next to him—whether it was for sarcastic banter or the occasional smirk exchanged across the table when Laswell got frustrated.
Thank you for reading! Notes and feedback would be appreciated.
#cod headcanons#dbf!simon#call of duty#cod laswell#kate laswell#johnny soap mctavish x you#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mactavish#ghost x reader#soap x reader#x reader#agegap#fanfic#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick
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Confinement
Summary: In Hermes’ incredibly correct and not at all humble opinion, humans should have stuck with horses, but then humans went off and invented cars. Awful... Hermes loved you; he really did. He adored you. But he loathed your car.
A/N: I'M ALIVE I SWEAR!!! I'm still writing for Hermes and this fandom!!! I love you all and I've MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! TLDR - I was in a car accident right after my birthday at the beginning of April, and while I wasn't badly injured, I've been mentally all over the place since then. Recovery-Scatter-Brain and Stress-Scatter-Brain are real... ANYWAY the irony is that I have had this one written for like forever and I was gearing up to post it right before I had my accident. So I guess Hermes was just trying to warn me in his own loving, mysterious, mischievous way. Also I linked to a song within the fic; it is one of my favorites to sing and one I sang as a part of my Senior Recital when I graduated university; if you take the time to listen I really do hope you enjoy it! (ALSO also, because of this, the reader does refer to themself as 'female' but only in the context of the song!) I hope you guys enjoy this one and hopefully I will have another edited/polished and posted for you before the two month mark... as always please let me know if I've missed any tags and have a truly lovely day, darlings!!!
Read on Ao3 Here!
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In Hermes’ incredibly correct and not at all humble opinion, humans should have stuck with horses.
Really, it was the altogether better option, compared to other modes of transportation, although he'd never tell his uncle that. Especially now, in the ‘modern era’ as humans called it, when things like capitalism and pollution and climate change hung over humans’ heads like a guillotine.
Horses didn't need oil from hundreds of cubits underground; they could just graze the grasses around where they were. Horses still went pretty fast over land compared to walking. Horses didn't stink like death-plastic-smoke that was worse than Tartarus.
But humans had gone and invented cars.
Awful.
Sure, cars went fast. Not nearly as fast as him, but Hermes was the god of speed; nothing went as fast as him. Cars could go a lot faster than horses, and in America, where the land was so massive and everything spread out so far, Hermes supposed it was nice to get to the grocer as quickly as possible.
But cars were also considerably small.
Therein lay the problem.
He wasn't necessarily claustrophobic, but Hermes didn't like small spaces. He didn't like feeling trapped. And cars did exactly that - with heavy metal doors that slammed and locked like prison cells, rough, scraping straps that pinned one in place (for safety, of course, which he couldn't begrudge; but he didn't have to like it), uncomfortable seats that pretended to be the ‘luxury’ of real leather even though he could smell the oily plastic layered in to make it cheaper.
And the windows only made things worse somehow - opening them made the winds beat the inside of the car and the unfortunate rider’s ears, easily causing hearing damage with the constant concussion. He’d tried pushing his head out, once; curious at seeing some teens in a car ahead of them do so, but the same beating effect applied; making his eyes sting and his ears ring from the force of it.
He didn't even have that problem when he was flying.
Hermes loved you; he really did. He adored you. But he loathed your car.
“I could get us to the craft store a lot faster,” he said to you, the barest hint of a whine in his voice. If he played it just right, with a little pout and a little whine, maybe he could change your mind.
“You would have to carry me, not to mention anything we bought, and I don't want to lose my supplies in your bag-of-holding.” You replied, not even looking at his big, slightly watery puppy-eyes.
No luck…
He sighed, and let his face drop back to normal. At least he understood the reference you made this time - you’d called his messenger bag a bag-of-holding a few times before he asked about it; it was a bag, it was supposed to hold stuff? But you were referring to a game you liked to play on nights he was away; a special bag that could hold almost anything a person put inside it, and was nearly endless. He’d had to admit after that that it was a fair nickname.
And it wasn't necessarily that things got lost in his bag; he could call up any paper or item that was in it by just thinking about it. It was that he could conveniently forget to grab some things back out. Or slip things in to hide them for later.
He was the god of thieves and master of tricks. Sue him.
He stared down the door handle of your car as if he could make it cower like a mortal he disliked. You slipped easily into the driver's seat and grinned at him; the cute, slightly devilish grin that he loved so much. Damn.
Hermes grumbled a Greek swear and submitted himself to the confinement.
Thankfully, you weren't an overly cautious driver going 10 under the speed limit.
The drive would take approximately 20 minutes; 18 if you pushed the speed limit a little and 16 if you managed to pass through the traffic lights without them turning red. Ugh. Traffic lights.
When horses had to cross a road, they could just go across. You didn't have to worry about being catastrophically slammed into from the side because horses had brains. …most of the time…
Hermes clicked the seatbelt into place. His feathers ruffled as he shuddered, but he felt your hand slip into his and squeeze in sympathy, and that made it a little better. The car rumbled under his feet like an angry animal as it started, and you began the drive, switching on the radio as it connected to the phone in your pocket.
Frankly, there was only one reason Hermes tolerated car rides at all.
“When I was a girl, I had a favorite story...”
Every time, he got to hear you sing.
“Of the meadowlark who lives where the rivers wind…”
In Hermes' very correct and not so humble opinion, you had the most beautiful voice. And he bragged to Apollo about you all the time, how he had found you and won your heart before the sun god even heard a single note. Hermes loved listening to you sing - singing along to movies you watched, singing quietly while you worked on a project, and yes, even singing in the car.
Car singing was the second-best singing, only because you weren't afraid to be loud . Your voice filled the little space with warmth, wrapped around Hermes like a safety blanket. If you had to stop at a traffic light, you liked to wiggle in your seat like a little dance. It felt like a secret, shared only between the two of you; the little moments he tucked away in his memory like shining jewels.
And you sang everything - regardless of the original musician’s gender. Musical Theater tended to be your favorite, but your phone shuffled through rock songs and pop songs and a few electronic melodies; indy and songs about video games and even (very rarely) a country song you said you kept because it was silly. Hamilton, and SpongeBob; Wicked, and Phantom of the Opera. Lately, you’d been fixating a bit on some songs from Next to Normal that made you tear up as you sang, and Hermes would reach over and pat your shoulder or take your hand, knowing that the music meant more to you than he could really understand. Songs full of stories that you knew by heart and told to yourself (and him) over and over again.
It felt extra special, sometimes; knowing that you were comfortable enough to sing with him around. Apollo had asked, several times now, but you had stammered and said you hadn't done any warm-ups and didn't know what he would like; maybe some other time. You’d confided in Hermes after the third time; for anyone else, it felt like a high stakes audition, especially for the ‘literal god of music’ as you had said. But Hermes made you feel comfortable, like you were singing with him, even though most of the time he wasn't actually singing; he joined in subtler ways. His head bobbed and swayed along to your music, and occasionally his wings ruffled and flapped for a particularly high or long or powerful note, and he savored every single second of it.
And then all too soon the show was cut short, as you slowed to a stop in the little store's parking lot, and Hermes became aware once again of the sensation of being trapped.
He all but ripped the seat belt apart - he actually had ripped the seat belt the first time, which you had been very upset about. He hadn't meant to, and thankfully you understood after an explanation (and when he offered to pay to fix the car - a full “work up” as you said. He’d kinda shrugged it off; money was a mortal thing.)
This time, he was out of the car before the belt had the chance to fully retract back into its hiding place, hopping a little from foot to foot to shake the phantom feelings of chains. You gave him a look of apology, and offered a hug, which he graciously accepted.
Finally, after a minute to fix his sunglasses and steal your hand for holding, the pair of you headed inside the craft store.
And if he slipped a few things that you seemed to like into his bag when you put them back down upon seeing the prices, well. That was his own little secret. He just couldn't resist the way your eyes glittered when he gave you presents.
You didn't need to know where they came from…
(If you enjoyed, please reblog!!)
#warcats writes#hermes x reader#hermes epic the musical#epic hermes#reader insert#gender neutral reader#epic the musical#epic the musical x reader#ask to tag#another one i have no idea what to tag#driving#implied claustrophobia#claustrophobia#cars#Hermes' POV
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“The fish tank”
Synopsis: Daniel uses an inappropriate nickname for a former F1 driver in the media pen and his PR manager with which he has a secret affair has to deal with it.
Warnings: 18+, minors do not interact please. Smut, oral sex, consent asked in another moment. This is all fiction, I used a made up name for the former f1 driver.
Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance if there are any errors.

I open the door with a slam and immediately get out of the conference room. The hot sun of Bahrein hits my face and I lower my sunglasses from my head to my eyes. I walk fast, almost running from what I just had to witness. I shake my head in disbelief.
“(y/n) wait, come on!” I hear Daniel shout while sprinting towards me.
“Let me cool down before I even start to talk Daniel.” I snap without even bothering to look his way.
“It’s not easy to cool down in this weather.” He jokes.
“The problem is not the weather but the prick I have been assigned to.” I say shaking my head.
“Oh so you can’t cool down because I am hotter than the weather.” I hear his smirk from his voice.
“I can’t cool down because you called an ex formula one champion a ‘bald prawn’. In the media section, surrounded by journalists and photographers!”
“Well he is bald and we all know his dick is-“
“What the hell is wrong with you!?” I shout stopping in the middle of the paddock to turn towards him, the folder with my notes at my chest.
He smiles darkly when he bumps into me. “Ooops.” He says in a playful flirting voice.
“I’m not fucking joking here.” I say narrowing my eyes.
“Neither am I.” He winks and looks at my tits, always thinking with his second brain more than the first.
“Eyes up and explain what the hell is wrong in that head of yours? Are you missing a couple of brain cells? You know the amount of work I am going to face to make this shit a little better for you?” I ask agitated. “Not to mention the questions I’ll get from our team who will want to know how the hell am I doing my job if I let you talk shit in the media pen!”
“You’re overreacting, I’ll handle it.” He says smiling calm.
“How the hell can you stay so chill after the media storm coming your way?”
“Have a little faith in me come on!”
“Daniel how?”
“I have learned to swallow too much in my life, then I met you and decided to make you swallow instead.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
I smack his chest with my folder.
“Come on they know you’ve been assigned to me and not to Lewis Hamilton.” He chuckles putting his hands in his cargo pants pockets.
I roll my eyes, “Right now i fucking wish I were, damn. You’re such a kid.”
“Didn’t say I was a kid when we played gynecologist in my provate room.” He giggles.
I start walking again towards the Vcarb motorhome, Daniel following just a step behind.
“We’ve been called to Peter Bayer’s office.” I tell him.
“I’ll handle him don’t worry.” He says not stressed in the least.
I shake my head in disbelief.
“He called me washed.” He says.”Voleur.” He adds.
“I know but that’s not an excuse to call him a ‘bald prawn’.” I repeat exasperated.
“A hairless little dickie would have sounded better to you?” He laughs.
I sigh and open the door of the motorhome without caring to keep it open for him before I start walking in.
He sprints inside and overtakes me smiling at the Vcarb staff and exchanging jokes. I shake my head desperately trying to think of a way to get out of all of this with grace.
I walk to the elevator and press the button. I take out my phone to unlock it and look for the scheduled appointments document.
When the doors open I walk inside reading the list. Daniel gets in with me and looks over my shoulder on my phone, his hand at my hip, sneaking under the shirt.
In that moment Christian Horner’s name pops up on the screen with an incoming call. My eyes instantly find daniel’s giving him a glare. He smiles nervously and retreat his hand.
The elevator starts his upward journey while I take the call on speakers.
“Christian I..”
“(Y/n) how did you even accept he could say something like that?”
“I didn’t! He just brought it out by himself I didn’t even know he read those lines Voleur said about him!”
“How are you even going to solve this..?”
“I have everything under control Christian don’t worry.” I lie trying to sound calm.
“Find a way to media train him again in case he forgot how to answer to journalists after 13 years in F1.”
I sigh and look at Daniel who is suppressing a smile while we get out the elevator towards Peter Bayer’s office.
Christian ends the call.
“I’m killing you after all of this.” I whisper for only him to hear.
“Please choke me.” He whispers smiling with innuendo while we enter Pete Bayer’s office. I look back at him with wide eyes, what if Pete had heard him? Luckily Pete’s on the phone at the window. I push his back inside.
Daniel sits at a chair while I stand next to him. We look like a teacher and the problematic kid in the school principal room.
Pete acknowledges our presence and ends the call immediately.
“They’re gonna start picking his side after that nickname.” Pete only says looking at Daniel.
“I’m not afraid.. i can throw punches!” He just says nonchalantly.
“Daniel!” I shut him up.
“That was a childish thing to say for a 35 years old.” Pete adds looking at him trying to figure him out.
“I never said his name, I might have been speaking about a prawn i have in the fish tank back at home for all you know, if he feels called out it means he is a prawn and if all of us thought of him it means he has a little weenie and we all know.” He says rising his hands to entwined them behind his head smiling broadly.
I blush hard and look at Pete who is looking at Daniel.
Pete’s face goes from serious to confused to.. amused.
In that moment his secretary gets in “Pete, you’re awaited in Yuki’s garage.”
Pete nods and starts following her.
“Find a way to clean this mess.” Pete says suppressing a laugh while he looks at us.
He closes the door and I look at Daniel furrowing my eyebrows.
“You’re fucking crazy.” I say shaking my head.
“I’m not, he really has a little dick.”
“Daniel again!” I scold him.
He smirks “why are you taking that at heart, I thought you liked big dicks.”
I throw my folder at him and he laughs faking getting hurt.
He puts the folder on the desk and stands up towering me. “You do.” He says in a low voice getting closer.
I take a step back but he follows me.
I push his hard chest “Daniel we’re in Pete Bayer’s office.” I whisper.
He nods smiling darkly. “And I still want you.”
He grabs my hips and rises me up against the wall, settling between my legs, holding me by my thighs.
“That fucking mouth will get you in trouble!” I say narrowing my eyes at him. His hard cock presses at my panties under the skirt.
“Up until now it only got me to very good places.” He smirks against my lips.
“I’m not joking!” I snap back.
“Neither am I, and you know you love it when I put it on your little needy pussy.”
I roll my eyes, my breath accelerating “that’s not what I was talking about..”
“No?” He jokes while his hips thrust up. I let out a little moan.
“Was that a moan?” He chuckles darkly.
“No.” I breathe out. “You should stop putting my job at risk.”
“Your job is never at risk with me, if they fire you I can hire you again.” He laughs.
“Shut up.”
“I can. You can be my babysitter.”
“I already am.”
“You are my cocksitter.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“Shut up for real Daniel.”
“You know damn well I can’t.”
“Yapper.”
“Yapper lover.”
“Prawn. Your dick is as little as Voleur.”
His eyes go wide and holds back a laugh, a hint of a challenge in his brown pools. In that moment he stops holding my thighs and I fall on my feet. He pushes my shoulder down with a hand so i’m forced to kneel. His other hand works with his pants zip. My back at the wall.
“What the-“ i start asking confused but his semi hard cock is in my mouth the second after. I gasp looking up at him, the light from the room at his back, his shadowy figure towering me. One hand at the wall, the other behind my head.
“How did you call me again?” He whispers darkly.
I swallow instinctively and gag a bit as he starts to move. “How is this a prawn when it hits the back of your throat and still leaves space for your nose to breathe?”
He laughs and lets out a low moan.
“Holy shit that fucking scolding mouth, this is what I imagine doing to ‘ya anytime ‘ya say I did something wrong and start playing teacher.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as he fucks my mouth fast, his cock getting hard rock.
He guides my mouth away to let me breathe.
“I should be the one shutting that fucking mouth!” I say breathlessly, precum and saliva all over my lips. He laughs shaking his head and spits in my mouth.
He pushes my head back on his cock, my nose hitting his hair at this pelvis. “You know there’s no way to shut me up, I yapped even while I ate you out next to my millions worth f1 car rear wing.”
I slap his thigh on his jeans looking up at him with a glare while he keeps fucking my mouth with raw need. He laughs back at me breathlessly and winks. “You love my unstoppable mouth. You know I can’t let a fucking prick call me ‘washed’.”
I roll my eyes and he smirks slamming his dick harder to the back of my throat.
A loud gagging sound escapes me and he pinches my nose looking at his back towards the door. I pull away catching my breath.
“Are you insane?” I breathe heavy saying with a nasal voice since he’s keeping my nose shut.
He leaves my nose “shhh, you don’t want the team to know the driver fucks your mouth in the team principal office.”
My eyes go wide and he laughs and puts his dick back in my mouth. “Yeah, baby, just like that, fuck. i love that mouth when it’s closed around my cock.”
I suck his cock with passion, he’s a dick and I do adore the fact he doesn’t give a fuck about anyone, that he stands for himself despite those stupid rules about being polite around cameras. But I won’t tell him.
He smiles down at me “fuck I’m so close and I know what you’re thinking when you look at me like that.”
“Mh?” I ask while i put my hands and the back oh his thighs sucking harder.
“That you love me after all.”
I smirk and shake my head. He laughs and starts fucking my mouth faster.
“Yeah keep telling yourself you’d rather work for Russell or for Hamilton.” He chuckles breathlessly, his chest rising and falling faster, his balls tightening.
“At the end of the day, you’d still come to my hotel room to get those knees bruised.” He says and throws his head back groaning low as i feel his hot liquid fill my mouth and slide down my throat, the grip at the back of my head edging on pain.
He pants until I swallow all his cum. He pulls my head away tugging my hair gently and puts his dick back inside his pants.
He makes me stand up tugging at my hair and kisses me with wild passion against the wall. The kiss is messy and breathless.
He cups my face with one large hand while the other still grabs my hair. “I’ll handle it all, trust me, you’ll never lose your job because of me.” He gives me to soft kisses to my mouth and winks at me. “But that’s my job..” i say breathlessly.
“Look at me.” He says forcing me to meet his eyes. “You’re with me because you’re the only one who can handle a pain in the ass, and the whole paddock knows that I am one. They know you’re the best.”
“Sometimes I wish I could have a relaxing day.” I sigh and chuckle.
“Not with me, baby.” He smiles and pulls away. “Let’s go.” He says adjusting his jeans.
“Where?” I ask confused, still light headed from the sexual act.
“I have a prawn to feed back at home, in my fish tank.”
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Lost on You - Part 11
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader
Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.
AN: In this episode, we're in for a team up, Greek mythology, and possibly the biggest reveal yet…
Word Count: 3.2K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse/torture, PTSD, violence, and another cliffhanger (sorry).
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Part 11: Heroes and Monsters
The only thing the TNT Twins ever bought with their money was a lavish mansion in Vermont. It was high on a hill, flanked by forest, and therefore perfectly secluded when Ben and Donna broke through the oak wood doors of their house.
“Hey, kids,” said Ben. He strolled into the living room with a smooth, purposeful gait.
The twins jumped with a start on the couch. A loud and crass action movie was playing on the screen.
“Ben,” Tessa gasped.
“Donna?!” Tommy said, pointing from Donna to Ben. “What…what’re you guys…how did you get…”
“Ooh, is that Pulp Fiction? I wanted to see that one,” Donna remarked. Her brows furrowed. “But wait, it’s still in theaters. How’d you get a VHS?”
“Oh, um, Tarantino gave me a copy as a favor, so we wouldn’t have to sit in the theater with all the mouth breathers,” Tessa said, with a wrinkle of her nose.
Tommy’s face slid into a smirk. He raised a conspiratorial hand to his mouth and pointed at his sister.
“She sucked his dick.”
That tidbit of information was accompanied by a lewd hand motion, and gagging sounds. Tessa angrily punched her brother in the shoulder.
Ben raised a brow. He made slow steps forward with an edge of menace. The twins caught on and stood up straighter, but somehow looked even more like cowards as they immediately started groveling.
“We’re so, so sorry, Ben,” Tessa tried.
“It wasn’t our idea,” Tommy added. The twins backed up near the glass doors, Tommy nearly tripping on the Persian rug.
“Of course it wasn’t,” said Ben. “You idiots barely have two brain cells to rub together.”
“Please don’t kill us,” Tessa pleaded. “Or at least, not me. I didn’t really do anything—”
“You bitch!” Tommy said incredulously.
“Shut the fuck up!” Ben snapped. “Here’s what’s gonna happen.”
He was stopped short by a rigorous shootout on the screen as the movie played. The sound of it was like a machine gun, bullets spraying over and over. It made his breath hitch. His eyes began to glaze over as a memory overtook his vision. Of being strapped to that metal slab, and Eisenstein and his team trying to find out what could actually hurt him, on the inside.
Ben’s chest grew impossibly hot. Distantly he heard voices calling his name.
Before he even realized what he was doing, the smell of burning filled the air, and that terrible, nuclear power escaped from his chest.
When he came to, he blinked the gaudy living room back into frame. Except now, it was burnt to a crisp. There was a large gaping hole where the French doors and most of the wall used to be, leading to a sunny day.
The TNT Twins were gone.
Shaking the fog and blackness from his mind, he turned and only saw Donna. She’d been cowering behind a piano. Slowly she came out of her hiding place with wide, horrified eyes.
“What the fuck did they do to you?” she whispered.
Instead of answering her, Ben strode out of the ruins and grabbed her arm, hefted her to her feet, and took her back to the car. She slid into the driver’s seat and started the car with shaking hands. He settled in the passenger seat and got out the cell phone he'd stashed in the dashboard compartment.
“Yeah?”
“Arthur, it’s me,” Ben said.
“How’d it go with the TNT Twins?”
“They can’t help.”
“What? Why’s that?”
“Because they’re fucking charcoal, that’s why,” Ben snapped. There was a pause on the other line.
“Okaaay,” Arthur said. “Well, I’m still working on some leads on Sirena. In the meantime, I found Gunpowder. He had a little unfortunate incident at a gun show in Texas, so he’s on some mandated R&R.”
Ben blew out a frustrated breath, but he nodded. “Where?”
“Kempton, Pennsylvania.”
Ben and Donna arrived at the Hawk Mt. Shooting Range. There were several steps up to the main building, then even more forest behind as it surrounded the base of a mountain.
“There’s literally a Hawk Mountain Sanctuary not even an hour from here. It’s like going to Sea World to hunt Shamu,” Donna groused.
“Would you shut the fuck up already?” he said. “I don’t want to hear any more of your tree-hugging bullshit.”
“That’s another thing. You’re always so fucking belittling,” she said with a glare sent his way. “Does Sirena like that about you? Or is she just deaf and blind?”
Ben grabbed her arm and yanked her to a stop. He raised a warning finger.
“Keep her name out of your fucking mouth,” he said darkly. “One more smartass word and I’ll sure as shit make you regret it.”
Donna’s mouth snapped shut. She was still angry, but she had the presence of mind to avert her eyes. When he was satisfied, Ben released her. They kept walking, but no matter how he tried to shut her words out, they kept filtering back into his mind.
You’re a bully. A fucking monster. And sooner or later, she won’t be able to stomach you anymore.
He managed to push that thought to the back of his mind as they entered the building. Donna either knocked out or killed the handful of staff members, while Ben continued on to the back of the shooting range.
Well then. Someone ate their fucking Wheaties.
Gunpowder was a bit bigger since Ben last saw him. He hardly recognized his former sidekick, now a grown-ass man in his late 20s. At least he wasn’t so scrawny anymore.
And he heard the moment Ben stepped into the outdoor range. After he fired off one more birdshot, Gunpowder whipped around with a large shotgun in hand. His face fell into shock when he saw Ben.
A dead pigeon landed on the ground between them.
“Charlie,” Ben greeted, with a tilt of his head. He stalked forward. The man opposite was frozen in shock, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d pulled the trigger on his gun anyway.
“S-Soldier Boy—”
Ben ripped the weapon out of his hand. He closed a hand around the younger man’s throat and walked him back until he hit the fake mountain wall that framed the shooting range.
“Ben, he didn’t even know!” Donna said from behind.
Charlie shook his head in agreement. “I didn’t! I swear—”
“Oh, I know. But I bet you didn’t ask any fucking questions, did you?” Ben said.
He remembered that day with perfect clarity. He remembered how the rest of them turned on him.
Except for you.
“But you’re gonna make it up to me,” Ben said, with a grim smile.
Charlie was shocked, as if he’d expected a quick death. “H-How?”
“You’re going to help me find someone.”
“Who?”
“Sirena.” Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly at the ashen look on Charlie’s face. “You remember her, right? She’s the other teammate you guys sold out and giftwrapped for the fucking Commies.”
Ben slammed him harder against the wall, and his chest began to glow. Charlie’s face fell further into fear and horror.
“Ben!” Donna warned. She didn’t dare touch him, but Ben could feel her close by. He glanced at her over his shoulder.
“The TNT Twins were probably useless, but we need him,” she reminded him. “We need every body we can throw at this.”
Ben hated to admit it (so he wouldn’t), but she had a point. It took him a minute to wrangle in his ire, taking deep breaths to try and calm the power inside him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.
This time, it actually worked.
His hand fell back to his side, letting Charlie breathe freely.
“Let’s go.” Ben turned on his heel and headed out.
“Where, uh…where’re we going?” Charlie asked, rubbing his sore neck.
“Looks like we’re getting the team back together,” Ben said grimly.
He tilted his head.
“Well. What’s left of it.”
Two weeks seemed to be an eternity in this cell. Somehow it was even more dull than when you were in Siberia. At the very least, the torture broke up the day.
Vogelbaum had taken a few vials of your blood to analyze, but otherwise, you were left alone.
Your only companion was John, who you discovered was just a ten-year-old kid. He was occupying one of the untold number of cells in this lab. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly where he was, but he felt close by.
You two had been having daily conversations. He told you that he’d grown up on this compound, in the very room they held him in. He didn’t remember his parents, if he had any. He only remembered Dr. Vogelbaum, some guy named Marty, and a few others in the facility.
All of them had run experiments of their own on him. It had broken your heart to hear it from a child.
They’ve burned me a lot, he admitted once, with a sniffle. It never leaves a mark, but…it hurts.
I know, bud. I’ve been burned before, you said, disheartened for him. They wanted to find out how strong you are, huh?
Yeah, I guess. What about you?
Not very, is the answer. I’m more durable than the average human, and I heal a little faster, but…not that strong. My powers don’t really help me as much physically.
What’re your powers?
Well…I’m a siren.
You sensed his confusion. He didn’t know what that was, though he maybe didn’t want to admit it.
Have you ever seen adventure movies? You know, the ones about pirates and buried treasure? you asked.
Um, I’ve seen movies, but Vogelbaum called them documentaries.
What were they about?
Pioneers in the Wild West. The old South. How we conquered the Indians, and why America’s the best country in the world. Stuff like that.
You grimaced. So that was the kind of education he was getting in this place.
Okay, a lot to unpack there later, you said. But anyway, you read books, right?
Yeah. They give me a lot of books.
That, you could work with.
Okay, have you ever read The Odyssey? Greek mythology.
Y-Yeah. I remember Odysseus. He’s a hero.
Right, exactly. Well, one of the creatures he comes across on his journey are the sirens. In the story, they live on an island. They’re beautiful women, with beautiful voices. They lure sailors in with their songs and their magic, and the men fall under their spell, every time. They end up wrecking their ships and falling to their deaths.
So…the sirens are monsters.
Yeah, they are, you agreed. Your shoulders deflated with your deep sigh.
I can…compel people. If I touch them, I can make them do whatever I want. Especially men. I know when they’re lying. I know what’s in their hearts when they look at me. And I’ve used that to my advantage. To use them.
That fell between you two for a moment. You could sense John thinking, processing.
Do you like your powers? John asked.
You smiled humorlessly.
No, you answered. You’d never admitted that to anyone before. They’re meant to manipulate people, to hurt people.
I don’t want to hurt people, John said, after a beat. But…I um. I did a couple times. You know, on accident.
I’ve known people who hurt others on purpose, because they can. Because it’s fun. You don’t sound like one of those people.
I don’t want to be. They…want me to be a hero one day.
His voice sounded small again, and almost scared. Like he was afraid of what he could do, and possibly, what Vogelbaum and Stan Edgar and everyone else wanted him to be.
Well, that’s good. You should never hurt someone just because you can. Or even, just because someone hurt you, you advised, even knowing you were a hypocrite.
Then, an idea formed in your mind. How many times had they burned him without leaving a single mark?
Are you strong, John? you asked him.
Yeah, he replied.
For the first time since you woke up in this nightmare of a place, your smile was genuine.
How strong?
Ben claimed the master bedroom of the apartment for himself. It was one of the Legend's properties out here in Vermont, lavish and gaudy, but safe, for now.
Charlie and Donna took root on the couch, catching up and reminiscing on how their careers had shaken out after Payback was dismantled. Donna mostly complained about being a permanent fixture at Voughtland.
“At least they got you set up with something stable,” Charlie said. He passed a blunt back to Donna after a long puff. “I never know where the hell I’m gonna be, week after week. Always putting me up in some piece of shit hotel.”
“At least you don’t have to take pictures with snot-nosed kids all day,” she replied, though she eyed him with a smile. Charlie caught the look, with a smile of his own.
“You look good,” he said. “I like the haircut.”
“Oh, stop.” She absently toyed with a strand of her shoulder-length hair. She’d been dying it a deeper red lately. “You really grew into that helmet though.”
He chuckled bashfully. Said helmet was resting on the coffee table, next to the big bag of weed Ben had bought on the way to Virginia. Charlie leaned closer to her and pointed a finger toward wherever their esteemed leader had fucked off to.
“He’s smoking like a chimney, even more than he used to,” Charlie said.
“He’s self-medicating,” Donna nodded. “The Russians did a number on him.”
Part of her maybe twinged with guilt, but even now, she felt justified in her decisions. It wasn’t like she could go back and change anything. Still, if she had known that it would all end up here…
“Christ,” Charlie shook his head.
They stopped their conversation when Ben’s heavy boots thudded back into the room. It seemed that he’d finished his nap, and now ventured out in search of booze. He grabbed the whiskey bottle on the dining table and a glass from the kitchen to give himself a generous pour.
“Uh, I’m thinking we could get some food,” Charlie broached. He got up from the couch. “I don’t mind grabbing something for us.”
“Sit your ass down,” Ben said sharply. He nodded at the landline phone. It sat on an accent table next to the couch. “Order something that delivers, because no one’s going any-fucking-where.”
Charlie pressed his luck one more time. “I’ll be right back, I swear—”
Ben sent him a look of warning. It was enough to make the younger man deflate in surrender.
“Pizza it is,” he said. When Ben turned to head back to his room, Charlie couldn’t help muttering, “For the third time in a row.”
Ben heard him, of course, but he just rolled his eyes. He returned to the bedroom and cracked up the radio on the nightstand. He couldn’t stand hearing any more of Donna and Charlie bickering about what to put on the pizza or what to watch on TV. In a way, it reminded him of old times.
Fuck old times, he thought. He didn’t even much enjoy them the first go around.
He set his glass down on the nightstand and laid in bed over the covers, folding his hands over his chest. He closed his eyes, but rest wouldn’t come to him. He thought of you, and where those bastards at Vought might be keeping you. He could only imagine what they were doing to you, and by now, he had a good imagination.
His jaw clenched with anger, and he drew a hand over his face in frustration.
He felt like he’d already failed.
He’d promised you that you weren’t going back to a cell, that he wouldn’t allow it…and that he’d protect you.
Believe it or not, Ben knew what he was; or more accurately, what he wasn’t. Despite how he’d propped himself up otherwise, deep down, he knew he wasn’t a hero.
But if he could make just one honest save in his long, long life, he’d be damned if it wasn’t you.
No matter how you tried to convince him, John was reluctant to try and escape his cell. You sensed that he didn’t want to leave the facility, even after everything they’d done to him.
At the end of the day, you realized, this was the only life he knew.
Look, I know you’re scared, but we can help each other, you tried to reason with him. I have a…well, I have a boyfriend. His name is Ben. I know he’s looking for me, but I’m not sure he’ll find me here. I need to get back to him before Vought tries anything else.
John didn’t answer you. You sighed. Maybe a softer approach…
What scares you most about leaving? you asked.
I don’t know! Look, just…just leave me alone!
John, wait—
I said leave. Me. ALONE!
The force of his shouted thoughts made you wince. The connection snapped back on you like a rubber band as you lost focus, giving you a stinging headache that radiated behind your eyes. You gasped and rubbed at your temples.
You felt bad for pushing him, but you really needed his help, damn it.
Just when you were about to try and reach out to John again to apologize, and hopefully soothe him, the door of your cell opened.
Vogelbaum was back with a couple of guards armed with tasers and guns. This time, the doctor had a few more empty vials.
“Good afternoon,” he said.
You pursed your lips, but you made no moves to evade him when he came over to sit beside you on your cot. He swabbed at the inside of your arm where he intended to pierce a vein with the needle he held, followed by vials one, two, three, and four of your blood.
“What are you taking my blood for, exactly?” you demanded to know. This was the second time already. “What happens after I fulfill your objective as bait, and you try to set your little trap for Ben?”
Vogelbaum glanced up at you. “We’re not going to hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Somehow, that still didn’t make you feel any better.
“And why is that?”
“I’m taking your blood to run additional genetic tests,” he said, for the moment ignoring your question.
“Why? What genetic tests?” you pressed.
“Well, this is something we haven’t seen before. It’s going to require a closer look, and some close monitoring of your progress.”
Despite his stoic expression, you sensed a spark of interest in him, of clinical fascination. It reminded you of Dr. Eisenstein. Immediately you were set on edge. Prickles of unease crept down your spine and made you feel cold.
“What do you mean? The Russians’ experiments didn’t do much of anything,” you lied.
“I’m not talking about that,” said Vogelbaum. He finished taking your blood, removed the needle, and cleaned you up.
“Then what?” you snapped. You were losing patience and getting even more worried.
Vogelbaum applied a small bandage where he’d pricked you with the needle, then stepped away.
“Congratulations,” he said in his usual monotone, as he pocketed the vials. “You’re pregnant.”
AN: 🫣 hides until next week lol
Next Time:
We come to Payback's Avengers: Civil War moment!
“Look, we don’t have to do this,” Charlie tried. “Just let him get Sirena out of there. After what you guys did, she doesn’t deserve that.”
Ben glanced at his former sidekick. He actually seemed sincere.
Too bad Noir wasn’t about to go for it. He had Vought’s dick so far up his ass, he wouldn’t likely take a shit without Stan Edgar’s say so. He crouched into a fighting stance and unsheathed his katana. The rest of the guards poured in to flank around him and Mindstorm.
Ben rolled a crack out of his neck.
“Fine. If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you’ll fucking get,” he said.
Noir started charging at him first, but Donna shot off a fireball in his direction.
Chaos ignited from there.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 12
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hiii! Please please please write a cute fluffy till sickfic! Fem reader taking care of sick till with a bad tummy ache or a stomach flu would be adorable!! If you don’t want to that’s fine! Love your writing btw <3
OMG YAYAYYA MY FIRST TILL REQUEST (^V^) I'm so glad you like my work btw thank u !!!!!!
I'm so sorry for not answering your request sooner!!!!! -
fem! reader x sick! till
c.w: mentions of abuse/SA (Till's trauma), mentions of sickness (like throwing up, fever, etc) canon!alnst timeline!!!
-
Till was almost like a crab. a hard shell on the outside to hide the softness within.
You'd witnessed it first hand; Till pushing everyone away, especially if they got too close. He was rough, intense .. but quiet, and soft-spoken.
You'd noticed lately that Till had been more weary, as if he was light-headed or - at least - physically not feeling well.
You'd followed him to his room, and right before he closed the door, Till blinked when he saw you right behind him. His usual angry expression faded into something akin to softness.
".. y/n." he murmurs. "what is it?" "are you feeling okay? you seemed sick earlier.. I just wanted to check in on you." Till blinked, staring at you for a moment. Were you .. serious? Did you actually care? He didn't dare get his hopes up.
"I .. feel fine." "Do you?" you reply almost instantly. You reach out to touch his forehead, and he flinches. hard.
"Don't touch me." he swats your hand away, tough demeanor returning almost naturally. "I don't need you to baby me." You blink, caught off guard by his sudden change in behavior. "I'm not trying to baby you, Till," you counter. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"--I'm fine," he huffs, turning his head away. "I don't need your help, or anyone else."
.. and yet, not even an hour after, here Till was: laying on his back in his makeshift bed, with a cool towel on his forehead while you prepared some home-made medicine to soothe his illness. Till was quiet, only answering your questions, comments, and concerns with quiet hums or grunts or nods of his head.
He watched you intently, as if waiting for a crack in the peaceful, kind aura you gave off. Till was nervous about the idea of relaxing; what if you snapped and hit him, or shouted at him, or reminded him how worthless his existence was? Till's gaze never left you.
You wrung a wet rag and cleaned the sweat from his forehead. "what hurts?"
".. tummy," he murmurs. "head."
you nod in reply, beginning to lift his shirt to check his wounds. Till's hand snaps out to grab your wrist. ".. please don't."
you blink, but respect his privacy.
you set the wet rag back on his forehead. Till relaxes slightly, closing his eyes and shakily exhaling.
".. thanks."
"of course," you reply almost immediately. "I'm here for you. Always."
"..."
Till didn't say anything in reply. He began to relax, only a little, letting you take care of him. ".. no ones ever done this for me," Till speaks up after a moment. "I really appreciate it."
"I'm always here for you," you reply, voice quiet in the intimate moment. "If you need someone to take care of you, if you need someone to talk to.. I'm here. It's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to need others."
It's okay to need others.
Till stared at you for a moment before turning his head away.
Wordlessly, he places his hand over yours, seeking comfort. His fingers twitch over yours, as if already seeking to pull away.
".. thanks."
"you don't have to thank me."
-
im not used to writing for till 😭 im so used to writing for Luka he's burned into my brain cells
-venus
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Poppy Playtime: CH 3 (What-if)
John watches in horror as dozens upon dozens of the Mini–Smiling Critters he has been dealing with ever since he found himself in the Playhouse. Crawl out of the walls and toward the hanging DogDay. The giant version of the toy screams out in panic when seeing the little monsters.
"Leave me! Please! Save yourself!" Every fiber of John's being agreed with what the humanoid dog said. But John couldn't get his legs to move.
He was too caught up in the horrific sight to even twitch a finger. But eventually his brain screamed at him to go, and John responded.
Though instead of running away to get to safety. John fired a few flares at the Mini-Smiling Critters. Like the other times they reared back in fright at the bright fireball.
However, this time, not all of them were backing away. Some continued to crawl toward DogDay. Their feral nature being more powerful than their fear. So, with only one option left. John starts bashing away the plush toys with his GrabPack arms.
"What are you doing?!" Asked a confused DogDay. "I told you to leave me!" John ignored him and continued his assault. One of the Smiling Critters manages to get onto DogDay's head, and it seemed it was about to crawl into his head by his large, black eyes,
John stopped this from happening by actually using his own hand to grab it and then punch it in the face with his other hand by turning it into a fist. John heard a sickening crack, but he pressed on and threw the dead thing away.
In quick speed John was able to free the large dog from his straps and have his arms wrap around his neck for support. "You're a fool for doing this. You're going to get yourself killed."
John could only grin. If that was the case, then at least he died trying to save someone. The Mini-Smiling Critters, angry that their food supply was now free. All snarled in anger.
John didn't bother to wait and see what they'll do and ran back the way he came. But when trying to run through the cell doors, wooden planks that were put in place to cover a large hole in the floor. Collapsed by the combined wait of John and DogDay's.
They fell to a floor beneath the holding cells. Clearing his dazed head from the sudden fall. John sees an open tunnel. Up above he can hear the little Critters coming to where he and DogDay fell.
Wasting no time, he crouch runs down the tube till coming to another tunnel and taking it. It was series of running, taking sharps turns, running up ramps, waiting for shutter doors to open up, and taking a slide down. But eventually John spots their salvation. An elevator that was behind a gap that led to a bottomless pit.
Switching to the purple hand and with what little adrenaline he had left in him. John sprints toward the gap, "Hang on! This won't be an easy landing!" Just as his foot touches the purple hand pad. John fires the hand on it and both he and DogDay launch high in the air.
Fortunately for them they were able to make it. Though John ended up not sticking the landing. He lost his footing and fell to the ground. The giant Smiling Critter rolled off of him, only being stopped by the elevator railing.
Without his choice John's body happened to land on his side where his front would be facing the open doorway he just came through. He can see the horde coming for him and DogDay. He wasn't actually sure if they would make the jump or not. He prayed that they didn't. But he wouldn't be able to know as the shutter suddenly closed before any of them could even make the attempt.
From behind the door, he could hear the little beasts roar and snarl in absolute fury. Crashing their little bodies against the metal in hopes of breaking through it.
Though the door wasn't budging in the slightest. Letting out a much-needed sigh of relief. John turns to DogDay to see if he's alright. "Are you ok?" John asked. The Smiling Critter coughs a little before asking why he saved him. John was silent for a few seconds till saying. "Because this place already has enough death occur in it. It needs at least one life that was saved in these walls."
DogDay took a second to digest what he heard. He lets out a ragged snort. "You really are an Angel. Something this place really needs."
John snorts too. "By the way. The name is John." DogDay said the name sounded too generic and will continue to call him Angel. Rolling his eyes. John picks up DogDay and steps onto the elevator and pushes the button. The contraption heading upward that led them to another slide. With no other option they took it, and it actually took them outside the Playhouse.
"It's been so long since I've been outside. I honestly can't believe that I'm truly free." Said DogDay. "Well believe it, you'll no longer be someone's dinner."
After a phone call from Ollie and telling him what to do next. John first takes DogDay to the elevator where Kissy and Poppy were last seen using.
When reaching it John sees the elevator was still raised up. He calls out for either Poppy or Kissy to lower the elevator so DogDay can be safe with them.
For several long seconds he didn't get a reply back. He was worried that maybe they were no longer up there. But his worries were put to rest when he heard and saw the elevator descending.
The elevator finally reached the bottom and John rested DogDay against the railing. "I don't know about this. Can you trust them?" The Smiling Critter asked. A hint of worry in his voice.
Despite what DogDay said to him back at the Playplace about he and Poppy being the only ones to stop the Prototype. John doesn't blame him for it. For years he was at the mercy of toys who he thought were his friends. And after all those years, he's finally free, only be at the mercy to a different set of toys. John reassures him that that they'll keep him safe while he deals with CatNap.
Pressing the button so the elevator can go back up. DogDay says, "Please don't die, Angel. I don't want to lose any more friends in this place."
Promising he won't. John turns around and heads for the counselor's office to bring more power to the generator.
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