#hope he will ‘spy’ the rest of the teams a little

[heartsoftruth]

Lewis watching George in the garage as he prepares for Day 1 of F1 Testing

[bamfkeeper]

Dashing Swashbuckler

RQ: 'Imagine Reader trying to be subtle about how watching Kurt being a debonair swashbuckler makes her swoon (whether Kurt's showing off deliberately or not... who's to say?)' - @crocwork-clockodile

Warnings: F!reader, slightly suggestive themes, not edited.

A/N: This is so cute, it was fun to write. I hope you enjoy!

WC: 1.0k

Kurt was a charming man.

He was naturally charismatic, his kind gestures and demeanor had made everyone feel welcome, regardless of how they felt about their appearances or mutations. He made you feel like any insecurity you had didn't matter.

You wondered how someone who had such hardships could be so welcoming and kind, his heart was gold and full of never-ending love. You enjoyed spending time with him, you looked forward to any chance you got to be with him. He was thoughtful, chivalrous, and most importantly, he made you feel like you mattered.

It was no secret he was quite the swordsman too, you hadn't seen him do much with his swashbuckling skills, but when you saw him practicing one afternoon, you couldn't take your eyes from him. He was so graceful and efficient, the acrobat flipped and moved with such fluidity, he appeared to be like water.

He was simply practicing, but you could tell how frustrating he'd be in a fight. Not just his natural agility, but adding his teleportation, he's a hard opponent. You had never sparred with him before, you weren't trained as acutely as the rest of the team was. Most of your practice felt like you were on a baby level or safety proofed simulation. It didn't really matter to you, going out on big missions wasn't why you were there. You just wanted to feel safe for once in your life.

Your attention was caught again as Kurt continued his elegant movements, spinning and twisting and flipping with ease. The way he swung his swords around and hit all the obstacles was mesmerizing to you. He was so beautiful, and his kind soul just made you feel more attached to him. It didn't help that he often liked to show off in front of you, you felt yourself blush a little as you recalled a specific event of him being extra extravagant.

He was quite the showman.

You moved closer to get a better show of his skills, and he noticed you peeking around the well trimmed trees around the mansion grounds. The sudden pair of eyes on him gave him added energy, and his skills improved. He was clearly peacocking now, showing off and doing things he wouldn't normally in real combat, but for training he could execute.

He finally stops for a moment just long enough to walk to the small bench by the rose bed and pick up his water bottle. He drank from it and glanced at you hiding poorly. "You can come out, fräulein..." he chuckled lightly, watching your form peek out from where you had been hiding. Your cheeks were slightly dusted as you were caught spying, but you couldn't help it.

"Sorry for watching...I couldn't help myself. You were flipping and moving so fast. I only watched for a second, then...a few minutes and...time sort of kept going. Before I knew it I was...kind of being a stalker." You blushed admitting that you were watching him, even though he had already spotted you.

Kurt chuckled in response, twirling one of the swords he had. "Don't fret, I don't mind being watched. In fact, it helps me show off." He winked and stepped back a little. "You don't train much, why don't I help you? For fun, of course..." He offered the hilt of one of the swords to you, encouraging you take it.

Reluctantly, you grasped the golden handle, surprised at how heavy the swords really were. You grunted slightly, having to hold on with two hands. You felt a bit flustered, but he didn't tease you about it. "It's alright, just do your best to hold it up...like this, ja, that's it!" He guided your arms and helped you position, then pointed at the dummy. "Now strike it down, like you're trying to fight an enemy."

With shaky arms, you took a cautious step towards the unmoving dummy, raising the sword and striking the dummy with a long slash. You stumbled a little, the weight of the sword drug you down a little bit. Kurt grabbed your arms and made sure you didn't accidentally strike your own leg. By how he grasped your forearms, his chest pressed against your back and his pelvis brushed against yours. The closeness made you blush more and you had stiffened at the proximity.

"You are so tense...that is why you are having difficulty wielding these," he noted, guiding you to stand upright again. "Deep breath...and relax. It's just me, fräulein...no one else is watching. I promise Scott won't come out and demand a perfect form." Kurt added with a tease to help you relax.

You slowly tried again, doing better this time. Kurt clapped and laughed, "Wunderbar! Good job, fräulein...that was much better! Soon you might be as good as me." Kurt winked at you, making you slightly tense again. You swallowed and blushed a bit, lowering the heavy sword and relieving the muscles in your arms.

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think I'm better off just watching you." You replied shyly, "If that's...okay."

"My spy wants to watch hm?" he chuckled back and waved his hand, "Of course. I don't mind, it actually encourages me to go a little harder than I normally would. When I have a lovely thing like you watching, I must do my best to impress..." He teased, that charming smile plastered on his fanged face. You had to take a breath after he spoke, he wanted to impress you and wanted you to watch him.

You exhaled and tried not to show just how much he affected you. Despite your efforts, he obviously knew. It was so painfully obvious to him and pretty much everyone else how much of a crush you had on him. Kurt didn't want to overwhelm you so he stepped back to keep training, but would wink at you every now and then just to see you squirm and blush more.

One day he'd ask you out.

But first, he'd keep teasing you.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover image: Amazing X-Men #1 (2014)

[lovifie]

Back to Masterlist

Hi, this a post about callsigns characters could have because I love "cool" sounding nicknames with the most stupid backstory:

Rat: Because when you first entered the team you were so shy that when you weren't on a mission they could only see you scurrying out of a room whenever they entered like a little mouse. Plus, Gaz keeps saying you look like the rat from the Wallace and Gromit movie when eating breakfast.

Knockout/Knock: Because Soap and you were playing around, he was following you and you were running so fast you didn't notice the door was locked and you ran into it so hard you knocked yourself out.

Icarus: You made fun of Ghost for being British and about how they always burn when they tan only for you to go and get such an aggressive sunburn you were required to take medical leave for two weeks.

Pudding: After a mission you were craving it so bad that you didn't care that the only one left was way past its recommended date for eating. And after reassuring them that you would be fine you ended up throwing up so hard late at night that you woke up everybody.

Mole: Because when you are not wearing your glasses you are so blind they wonder how did you even made it into the military. Many people think you are just a spy that the task force kept as a pet.

Pierrot: Which is a sad clown, often pining for the love of Columbine, who usually breaks his heart and leaves him for Harlequin. And since that's basically a compilation of your love life that became your name, a sad clown but in Italian.

Anakin: You tried to download one of the Star Wars movies from a not-so-trustworthy website, you ended up downloading such a massive amount of viruses that you were almost the reason for the downfall of the whole military because of how aggressive the hack attack was. You now have parental control on everything that has internet access.

Navi: As in the fairy that travels with Link on the Legend of Zelda. Because every time that you would try to de-escalate an argument you would start like: "Hey, listen, we are all tired." "Hey, listen, let's all take a breath." "Hey, listen, we are all adults."

Gecko: Because while sleeping on deployment a gecko fell on your face from the ceiling, and you became so terrified of them that you barely slept for months after that.

Baby: Do you know when you accidentally call your teacher "mom"? Well, it happened to you, but you called Price "dad" and he didn't skip a beat before answering "Yes, babygirl?"

I could go on and on with these, I hope you find it at least half as funny as I do. Feel free to use them however you want and to add to the list as well, please I'll love to read them. 🩷🩷

Also, I would definitely be Mole, my blind ass would shoot and wish for the best. Which one would you guys be?? Also, Knockout and Icarus are my favourite ones and the reason I made the post hehe

Also, the rat I mentioned:

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[munariplans]

hi there! hope ur doing well. i love ur writing and have been wondering if you could do a story about reader disappearing on the teams day off. natasha who has a crush on reader notices and spys on reader to see if she’s meeting up with someone. instead it’s just reader being a good person and helping people along the way. making natasha fall in love with her even more.

days off | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above! thank you anon for your submission :)

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 3.3k words

a/n: requests and asks are always open

masterlist

“what are you doing?” natasha asked you shyly, her figure leaning against the frame of the kitchen entrance. she watched your hands skilfully kneading the dough on the counter over and over again, folded into a neat rectangle before being flattened and folded again in the next moment. behind you, pans were sizzling with the mouth-watering fragrance of scrambled eggs being cooked on the stove, and the oven let out a ding right as she stepped closer, telling you that it was preheated and ready. 

you let the dough rest, before putting a pre-prepared one in the oven and finally turning to her. “making breakfast,” you said, matter-of-factly, “for the team.”

“but it’s our off-day,” she replied, “and we have chefs in the compound.”

you smiled. “well, i just thought it would be nice to have something homemade, for once. my mother taught me how to cook, and i figured i’d spend the morning of the day-off in the kitchen, where i’ll be busy, and…the thoughts wouldn’t be so loud.”

natasha folded her arms over herself as you came closer. you noticed she had just come back from the gym. she probably hadn’t had anything to eat. 

carefully slicing the freshly baked bread into halves, you took a pair out of the perfect symmetry and placed them on the plate, before ladling a helping of the scrambled eggs, taking a few pieces of bacon out of the other pan, and placing a piece of hash brown right on top, before covering it with the other half of the bread. she watched you work, methodically, seamlessly. you looked like you had been doing it for years. 

then, you wrapped the sandwich quickly, and wrote her initials, N.R. with a smiley on top of the wrapper, before handing it to her. she was taken aback, and slightly red when she looked at the sandwich being offered to her. 

“i-it’s…” she stuttered, heart beating quickly when she realised she hadn’t exactly taken the sandwich, but hadn’t rejected your offer, either. 

“i want you to be my first taster. if it’s good, i’ll call the team down to have it as well. and if it’s bad…” you shrugged, half-laughing in anticipation as natasha finally took it, taking a small bite in front of you.

she took a moment to chew, face in contemplation, as if she were assessing a fine dining establishment before you. you began taking off your apron, deciding to let the chefs help you take over for the serving of the food later on, and started packing your things. 

just before you left, however, you noticed natasha fully into the entryway of the kitchen again, sandwich half-eaten.

“it’s okay,” she said nonchalantly, wiping a little bit off the ends of her lips. “it’s edible.”

you nodded, hiding a smile. “okay means good. i’ll tell the team to come down, then.”

natasha shrugged this time, as if saying if that’s what you want. when you left to shower, however, she smiled quietly to herself, and after making sure that no one was around, did a little happy dance from one of the most delicious sandwiches she had ever eaten. it was more than okay, it was the best breakfast she had ever had. she only wished she had the courage to tell you so. 

the redhead then tore the part of your handwriting of her initials off the wrapper, and kept it in her pocket for the rest of the day.

–

natasha never really knew what to do on her day-offs. it felt weird, to be sitting around doing nothing. she could do her remaining paperwork, but she knew if tony caught her, he would ban her from working on it at all for a week, leaving her even more bored and restless. 

she could sleep in, or explore new york for the day, but she wasn’t fully confident that her russian accent wouldn’t throw the average new yorker off yet. it also didn’t help that ever since her joining the avengers, there was always someone around the block who recognised who she was, who let their eyes rake over her figure for far too long, who made her feel uncomfortable when they got too close to ask for a picture. the others never seemed to mind, but she did. 

she noticed you always seemed to step in when it got too much; telling the fans that enough was enough, or simply holding her waist and slowly whisking her away from their prying eyes and grubby hands. she threw her head back onto her pillow at the thought of your hands on her waist again. natasha seriously needed to stop thinking about you, and her festering crush, whenever she had the opportunity. she needed to busy herself. 

but when you appeared in the commons right as she stepped out of her room to ask what you planned to do on your day-off, you were in your coat and scarf, prepared to head out. the rest of the team was still lazily lounging around the area, in a dazed state from the aftermath of your coma-inducing breakfast. 

“where are you going?” she asked, not wanting to pry too much, but still allowing herself to feed her own curiosity. 

she hated that you always replied with a tone that seemed like it was painfully obvious what you were doing. “out.”

“i know, but–”

“hey romanoff, are you still coming for the basketball game later? steve needs to book the seats.” tony called out to her before she could finish the sentence. he asked you too, but you reaffirmed with him that you weren’t coming. 

you shifted your scarf slightly, turning your attention back to her. “you ever been to a basketball game before? you’ll like it. the warriors are something else.”

natasha shook her head. you knew she had never been. but it didn’t mean that she wanted to go, not without you around. but she also didn’t have the courage to ask if she could tag along to wherever you were going. she knew her limits.

you didn’t seem to take the hint of her wanting to come along, despite her readily asking if you were going to meet someone, or if you were just going out alone, and if you had plans for after. you simply waved her goodbye, and told her to enjoy the game with the team. 

she sighed in irritation when you left, much to the amusement of clint behind her. “does she have a girlfriend or something? is that what she’s using her day-offs for?”

if clint wasn’t already hiding his grin, his friend’s newfound annoyance at your departure definitely made him let out a chuckle. “not that i know of.”

natasha didn’t have much to do that day, and it wasn’t like she was particularly looking forward to the game either, so she decided to spend her day-off the only way she knew how, using her spying skills and finding out what you were doing with yours.

–

in retrospect, natasha knew that you probably wouldn’t have liked being stalked, or followed around without her telling you why, or even simply her not taking the initiative to just ask, when you would have told her willingly of what you spent your breaks on.

she followed you into the university uptown, where natasha knew you guest-lectured in between longer breaks from missions. she just never expected you to come in on your days-off as well. 

you tapped your card in to the science department of the school, while natasha snuck past the security guard after causing a well-crafted distraction. when you entered the lockers to change into your lab coat, natasha waited patiently outside like a schoolgirl hiding from their crush. she supposed she wasn’t so different from one then.

it was only when you walked down the halls into a room guarded by a facial recognition scan, that natasha finally got to know that she a) wasn’t being so discreet after all, or b) you were a better agent than you let on to her. she should have known that you didn’t get promoted through the ranks so fast, so young, without reasons. 

the machine scanned your face, and as the door unlocked, you stood there for a moment, holding it wide open, before leaning your head to the side, one eye locked with hers. 

“do you want to come in and see as well, or do you plan on just waiting for me until i finish?”

if clint had seen the embarrassment on her face, along with the walk of shame she had to put on to enter the room with you, he would have certainly made her the laughing stock of the compound for the day. 

–

you drew up a chair for natasha as you went to your usual work station, a little early for your patient. in the few minutes that the two of you were alone, you hadn’t engaged her at all, simply directing her to sit and watch, while you prepared your materials and waited for your lab assistant. natasha was a little unnerved, and in awe at your professionalism, at the same time. 

you clicked your tongue in slight annoyance as your assistant came in five minutes late, reminding him, almost naggingly, that you only had one day-off per week, and it was precious time that he was wasting for the both of you. he apologised, and got to work helping you set up what looked like a robotic prosthetic leg, on your station. 

the lab was pristine; white-tiled walls and floors scrubbed clean with a very strong stench of antiseptic ensuring to even the most sceptic of minds that you knew what you were doing, and that the lab was clean; if the multiple diagrams of your inventions on the walls and the prototypes lining the shelves around her were not enough proof. you had never told her you had a lab.

a few minutes later, two knocks on the door were heard, and your assistant rushed over to open the door for a man no younger than seventy, hobbling in with great difficulty as he tried to offer help with his support, only to be rejected with a wave of his hand and an upbeat smile. he was an amputee. 

oh. this was what your days-off were for. 

“hello, mr. miller. you look cheerful today.” you got up from your seat to shake his hand. he took your support this time, leading himself to the plush armchair placed across your station. 

he laughed, rough and loud. “david, how many times have i come in here and asked you to call me?”

you smiled sheepishly. “sorry, david. let me help you with this.”

he winced as you kneeled down beside him, outstretching his prosthetic leg and inspecting it. your assistant took notes as you made observations of the various deficiencies and defects it suffered through david’s use of it for the past six months. natasha watched as your hands, the ones that would hold her at night when she cried, the ones that punched the faces of enemies trying to get to her, the very same hands that made her breakfast that morning, ran over the intricate details and bolts and nuts of the prosthetic leg she learned you made just for david, knowing what was wrong just by the feel and touch of them. she adored those hands so much. 

then, you helped him take off the prosthetic, instructing your assistant to hold his hand in encouragement as he winced at the removal. “there we go. wasn’t so bad this time, right? and the leg did hold up quite well, for six months.”

“well, you do maintenance to it every week,” david patted your back, “hard to fuck it up so bad when you fix it up every time i try to, right?”

you laughed, and natasha stopped herself from smiling. at your signal, the assistant brought forth the limb that you both had been working on to replace david’s old one for the past year, shiny and new. the man positively gleamed at the sight of it. 

“ready for a bit of a change, though, mr. miller?”

“now, that is a beauty,” he said as his eyes latched on, before they inevitably noticed natasha sat at the corner of where the limb was, and she swore he held recognition for her instantly. 

you followed his gaze, before his met yours, and the playful smirk he let out was all that you needed to know that he knew. “is that your…”

“...friend, natasha,” you replied him quickly, eyes slightly panicked and subtly, not so subtly, shaking your head to ask him to stop before he let out your little secret. 

“is she the one–”

“–yes, david. she’s the one.” 

he finally caught the hint, and chuckled to himself as he waved hi to her. she waved back, no doubt in confusion of the connection between him and her. she made a mental note to ask you about it later. 

–

when the new leg was fitted on him, david was practically almost jumping for joy at the new flexibility and strength it gave him. his laughter was infectious, as natasha quickly learned, when it caught up to her after it caught you and the assistant, as well. 

“look at the reflexes! and fluidity of this thing!” no longer was he hobbling and exerting his entire strength on the one leg, it was almost as if the leg was natural and part of him itself, as david brought you in for a hug enthusiastically. 

you hugged him back, still grinning. “amazing right, what science can do for you. soon, the future of prosthetics is going to change, and we can make so many more lives better in our community.”

“you two are amazing, simply amazing!” david exclaimed, even as he finally accepted the assistant’s help in testing out the other features of the prosthetic. 

–

natasha stayed until the end of the day for you, when david’s tests were complete and he was all but ready to leave. 

“and to what i owe you this time, again?” he asked. you knew he didn’t have much, it was the sole reason you took him on for the project; but the fact that he remained so grateful, always offering payment, even when you had repeatedly rejected him, always touched you. 

“for you to come back next week, as always. and to thank mr. parker here for all his efforts. i couldn’t have done all this without him.” 

your assistant looked like he was going to cry at the recognition and hug david gave him. “doing a good job, kid.”

you held the door open for david then, and he stole one last glance at natasha before he left. “you know, your girlfriend here really is a genius, ms. black widow. the best of her–”

“–thank you, david!” you cut in, visibly more in a panic this time, as you held his hand and ushered him out, “just a friend, a friend!”

“what?” he didn’t seem keen to leave, “i’m just helping the two of you speed things along. god knows she wouldn’t have stayed here in this boring lab all day, running tests on an old war veteran running his mouth, if she wasn’t smitten with you too!”

natasha’s cheeks instantly reddened, as you sighed in embarrassment. so maybe her feelings were reciprocated, for a while now. 

with the assistant chuckling in the background, you shut the door ushering david out, whispering frustratedly that he was leaking all of your secrets about natasha. “david! i told you and peter about her in confidence!”

“i know, but you didn’t tell me she was head over heels for you too.”

“because she’s not!” you whisper-yelled, “she came just to see what i was doing, and…and…”

and…oh. 

david’s look made sense now. it all made sense now. her shyness around you, the way she always wanted you around, always wanted to know what you were doing, the reasons for her coming all this way to accompany you on your day-off. 

you had thought she wouldn’t be interested, and would leave after seeing what your activities just were, but you hadn’t expected her to stay. and you hadn’t expected to feel her gaze on you throughout. 

“when you know, you know.” he assured, patting you on the back again as he walked off, “trust me, kid. and she’s a good one, you picked a good one.”

–

your assistant had retreated to his corner of the lab when you came back in, while natasha stretched her joints and got ready to leave too. it was dark by then, and you felt guilty for making her stay past dinner. you excused your assistant to leave quickly, before finally turning to her. 

“sorry.”

“for what?” she yawned. 

“for trapping you here with me on your day-off. i feel guilty now.”

she rolled her eyes, before jabbing you slightly. “idiot. i stayed because i wanted to stay. and you didn’t force me here, in fact, i was the one who followed you, remember?”

“yeah, you do need to make sure that the person you’re stalking isn’t a super spy like you before you do that, though.”

at the blush on her cheeks and feigned hurt on her face, you quickly decided to change the subject. “what david said earlier…ignore him. he’s old, a little senile. really doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“really?” natasha frowned, “that’s a shame.”

you nodded, biting your lip as you leaned back against the counter of your station. she continued, “i really wanted what he said to be true.”

you blinked in surprise, unable to hide the shock on your face. it was your turn to be nervous around natasha now. it was always the other way around. perhaps the knowledge of knowing your feelings were mutual beckoned you to retreat to a shy disposition you never showed anyone else. 

natasha shrugged. “damn, i really thought i had a chance with the most wonderful, kind-hearted person i know, who would spend her days off, even, to help people. who i thought was hiding to meet a secret girlfriend or something.”

a smile began to creep its way onto your face. “n-no, no secret girlfriend.”

“shame. i bet that secret girlfriend would be so in awe, falling even more for this person, when she finds out what she does for the people around her. a superhero saving the lives of many as an avenger, and a scientist changing the lives of even more as a civilian.”

“mm,” you took off your lab coat then, coming closer to her. she had a playful glint in her eyes as she put one hand on your chest, preventing you from getting too close. “tell me more praises of what this secret girlfriend would feel about me.”

“this secret girlfriend also does not appreciate when you keep such lovely secrets from her,” she felt your arms on the counter behind her now, entrapping her body with yours, “and when you try to do anything without taking her to dinner first. she’s starving, you know.”

the chuckle that left your lips made natasha only want to kiss you even more. “what do you say i make this secret girlfriend not-so-secret now, and invite her out to dinner with me? her favourite italian down the street from here, my treat.”

in response, the woman before you finally let go of the hand on your chest, and brought her hands to your collar to pull you in, leaving a searing kiss on your lips that left you lightheaded and longing for more, at the same time. 

she held your hand as the both of you walked out of the university, before declaring something she had to say before she forgot, “tell david he should expect to see me around the lab every week from now on too, then.” 

“yes ma’am.”

[dark-konohagakure2]

Tobirama caught the Uchiha spy and abused her with his squad

tw: noncon, threesome, mild discrimination, age difference, size difference, spitroasting, face fucking, abuse, slapping, cum marking, degradation

(I only included Kagami because he's the only one in the squad that I write besides Tobirama)

All characters depicted are 18+

After Tobirama senses a spy following him and his team during a mission, he and Kagami split off from the rest of the squad to find the spy and apprehended them. Much to Kagami's surprise and Tobirama's lack thereof, the spy turns out to be from the Uchiha clan, a clan that Tobirama has a very strong opinion on.

Tobirama isn't going to be as verbal about his dislike for the Uchiha when Kagami is around, since he's the only Uchiha that Tobirama actually likes, instead Tobirama will act like his anger at her is only because she's an enemy spy, and both shinobi agree that spies need to be punished.

Tobirama will take her mouth (he doesn't want to risk having a half Uchiha child), and Kagami will take her pussy. Tobirama is particularly brutal with the girl, both of his big hands on the sides of her head as he practically fucks her skull, his thick cock pistoning in and out of her mouth at an almost literally breakneck pace.

Kagami is a good-natured man, but he can be very ruthless with the enemy when he wants to be, so he'll be rather rough with her, but will simultaneously talk down to her in an almost paternal manner, since it pains him to see his fellow Uchiha go down such a treacherous path.

"Stop your struggling, little Uchiha, it won't work on me. Maybe next time you should be a good girl and mind your own business, unless this is actually what you wanted from the start..."

Tobirama is much bigger than the spy, so he can easily manhandle her however he wants, his cock sliding up and down her throat at a very rough pace, even smacking her in the face if she does something as awful as gagging on his cock or looking up at him with her Sharingan activated.

Kagami is a few years younger than Tobirama and much more sensitive, and as such he has to try and hold himself back from cumming prematurely, especially in front of someone like Tobirama, who he respects and admires very much.

The Uchiha man is rough as well, but not as outright brutal as his superior. His hips will slap against her ass as he moans and groans quietly, even occasionally praising her by calling her a good girl if she isn't fighting back against the two of them as much as she was before.

Tobirama will order Kagami not to cum inside of her under the guise of not wanting to leave behind too much evidence, when in reality he just doesn't want another pureblooded Uchiha running around the village. Kagami, oblivious to his captains actual reasonings, will comply, instead pulling out just in time and shooting his thick load all over the girl's quivering backside.

"I hope this taught you a valuable lesson, traitor, never underestimate the Hokage or his colleagues. Now let's go, Kagami, we don't need to bother with this trash anymore."

Tobirama let's her off with a warning and a tummy full of cum before letting her go on her not so merry way, but not before telling her that if she even thinks of spying on any of his comrades again, they won't be so lenient next time.

[crabonfire]

☆ Would merc still like you if merasmus turned you into a worm 🪱 ☆

characters: all mercs

tags: crack but not really I'm taking it kinda seriously, reader has a platonic relationship with the mercs

note: maybe someone's done this before idk I felt compelled to write something tf2 related and this is lowkey all I fucking got lmao

Also this is ridiculously long for a fic that was supposed to be crack so my bad (this was longer actually, but I cut out a bunch of yapping)

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• I feel like Scout's first reaction instead of panicking is to curse and threaten Merasmus.

"OUT OF EVERY SHITTY THING YOU COULD'VE DONE, YOU TURNED THEM INTO A FRIGGIN' WORM?!"

• He's yelling, so much to the point where Merasmus just teleports away and ignores it, finding it funny (of course he finds it funny what a dick)

• He realizes that when he was so busy yelling at Merasmus, he had lost you. He panicked, looking around the ground with a horrified frown, cursing to himself as he started to dig, looking closely. When he finally found you, he placed you on his hand with a frown, looking at how you moved against his fingertips. He wanted to cry a little, he really didn't know what to do.

• He's placing you under his hat. Usually he'd find worms or maggots gross as hell, and if he was going to be honest he still found you gross, but it was you, so...

• Then he rushes back to base, the panicked look on his face never leaving him. He alerts all the other mercs, making a huge fuss over how, you're a worm now, and they need to help him get back at merasmus to turn him back.

He's holding you in his palm, and you're just wiggling around like nothing is wrong cause you're a worm now. And the rest of the mercs look at him like he's crazy.

• Spy, Sniper, Medic, and Heavy are convinced he's lying. Demo believes him a little since he's experienced Merasmus' antics. Soldier automatically believes him fully since the worms there, but you're not, so that must be you. Engineer is just trying to keep the peace, trying to calm scout down, but it doesn't work as no one is listening to him.

• The team is skeptical, thinking that this is some elaborate prank and that, you're just out for a couple hours. But when you don't return tomorrow for the fight, or return after, that raises some suspicions on where you are.

• Ms. Pauling doesn't know where you are either. So is it true? Are you really the worm?

• A meeting is held, everyone stands around the rounded table, the light shining down on you. You're in your little wormy home, slithering and worming your way through life, forgetting your identity, eating leaves and sleeping in dirt.

The mercs watch as you're doing your worm thing.

Engineer clears his throat, making the attention go to him. He turns to Scout, and the confusion in his voice is evident as he speaks.

"Scout, you're absolutely positive that, this worm is (y/n)?"

Scout responds with an aggresive nod, the slight panic and frustration shown in his expression.

"I told you, its them! I saw it happen with my own two eyes, Merasmus found em, they got zapped and poof- they're a worm! A freakin' worm!"

• The team continues to look at you, so peaceful, so calm, being a worm. They don't know why, but, now it was much easier to believe him. The worm was just like you, chill and...cool...and awesome...and wow... amazing..

"So...what? They're just a worm now?"

Sniper said, picking up the jar you were in, looking at you curiously.

"I don't think they'll be too happy stuck like that."

Engineer spoke once again, "If they got turned into a worm, there's...probably a way to turn em' back, right?"

• That was enough to bring hope to Scout's mind. Of course! That was it, if he could find Merasmus and maybe force convince him to turn you back, everything would be okay! All his sadness had dissipated, and he was quick to start making plans.

• So they did, the team would go hunting for Merasmus, and make him turn you back. In the meantime, they'd take turns taking care of you.

• Scout liked to hang out with you, pretending like it was just like before, where you and him would sip sodas together and talk about anything and everything. He'd pour some soda in the dirt you were in, not really caring of the consequences and thinking everything was the same with you two. He really missed having someone to talk to, though.

"Man, I hope you can hear me. It'll be like, super fuckin' weird if I've been talking to you and you're not even in there.."

• Pyro wouldn't really see a difference. That sounds mean, but its really nothing personal. Though now that you were a worm, you weren't as scared as them as you usually were. They'd sit you down, with their plushies, having a nice tea party, watching carefully as you'd just slither about as a worm.

• Soldier was...confused. You, who once was a brave and selfless fighter, was now a worm. It fascinated him and scared him at the same time. He'd get awkward around you, wondering if you remembered him. He'd talk to you mostly, sometimes petting you...He'd try to.

"EVEN IF YOU'RE A WORM, YOU'RE STILL STRONG TO ME!"

"...You're still in there aren't you?"

• Demo wouldn't really know what to do with you either. He finds it kinda funny how you got turned into a worm. Unlike Scout or Soldier, he doesn't really panic, knowing you'll probably be fine, worm or not. He does miss having you to talk to, like scout. Sometimes he'd just be in the living room, and you'd be by the table in your little jar. He'd just watch curiously, but wouldn't really do anything.

• Same thing goes for Sniper. He legit doesn't really know what to do or say. But, he is a little afraid that you won't turn back into a person. Unlike Scout, he found that you weren't 100% obnoxious or annoying, someone to have chill conversations with after battle. He'd keep watch over you, letting you sit with him as he's chilling on top of his van. Sometimes he'd even bring you out with him in battles as he's camping out enemies during fights. He always makes sure you're safe, though.

• Heavy really liked you. He found you someone worth talking to, and a solid member of the team, so it was a bit jarring to see you turned into a worm. He'd keep his hopes up, though, talking to you like normal. Sometimes he'd watch you like Demo did, curious about you and your little world. It was weirdly calming, after battles he'd be worn out, and when he'd see you worming your way through leaves and dirt, it relieved him a little.

• Engie was a little off put by it, the same way soldier felt. You're just...a worm now? Huh. He doesn't really know what to say to that. Medic and him share the same thought, and that thought is, are you concious? Are you aware that you're a worm? Or are you mindless?

They can't help but think of it that way, in a practical sense. Medic would have to hide you from archimedes and the rest of his doves, who would love to eat you at any given chance.

Sometimes they'd do tests on you. Nothing painful or dramatic but, tests to see if you're still in there. They're really overthinking it.

Engie likes having you in his workshop late at night, makes him feel less alone when you're just worming. Medic keeps you at a distance, just to make sure he doesn't lose you or, have one of his doves eat you.

• Spy, is, kind of grossed out. Nobody has a close relationship with him. He did have a lot of respect for you, both on and off the battlefield. You were just a decent human being who he found a liking to, now you're...a worm. A gross, slimy worm.

He never let you into his smoking room, actually he never even let you out of your jar. He liked you, respected you, but liked you more as a person.

He feels pity, honestly, and just wants you to either be out of his way, or back to normal.

• When you do eventually turn back into a worm, they're all pretty glad. They all have questions, ranging from "Were you really in there? Like were you- aware?" And then "Was it nice being a worm?"

I'm sure you can tell who's asking which question and such.

○●○●○

this what comic 7 leak does to a person

[hsficrecommendation]

Hello everyone! This is masterlist #4, #5 and #6 (Cont. Of June, then Sept, and Oct 2023!) for all the fics I have reblogged on this side blog I hold super close to me. Remember to leave feedback and reblog all the writings below!

Also, a huge thank you to all the writers mentioned, I adore you so very much and I hope you keep writing for yourselves <3

••• JUNE (Part 2!) •••

Stablehand!Harry x Princess!Y/n | Part 2 | Part 3 | Harry loathes Y/N and she's just a little tease. - @angelsanddaisies

Poetry In Your Mailbox | Part 2 | Part 3 | Y/N and the rest of her nosy neighborhood friends ogle at the man who just moved in next door — a man of mystery, silence, and someone who seemingly doesn’t want anything to do with his neighbors… until Y/N begins to receive anonymous mail. - @episkystyles

Changes | ♡♡ Harry returns home. Based on- Changes by Cam. - @hes-writer

Prince!Harry x Princess!Y/n | Harry is a prince, Y/N is a princess, and Harry is insufferable. - @novelistrry

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes | Every Rose has its Thorns | Petals and Prompts | Harry’s a prince looking for his princess… but perhaps she isn’t inside the ball. Includes: flowers and gossip and promises and true love’s kiss. - @jarofstyles

Out by the Docks | Underneath the Stars | ♡ A story of clandestine meetings, conspiracies, and stolen glances by the sea. (Princess!Y/n x Spy!Harry) - @fishnets-fingers

Dentist The Bad Boi | ♡ Harry’s a med-student and Y/N’s an art student, being neighbours with Y/N was already a living hell for Harry but when she fusses over his cat getting her cat pregnant – he mighty looses it. - @muffindaddystyles

The Empowering Hearts | ♡♡ In which you're a lonely model until you meet a baker. - @havethetimeofyourstyles

••• SEPTEMBER •••

Say It | in which a new relationship sparks up in the restaurant. - @havethetimeofyourstyles

The Joker and The Queen | In which Harry is a florist, has a crush on the baker next door and dreads his Birthday. - @harrysonlylover

Breaking the Ice | It's no secret that as a figure skater, you're fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty... and your ex's status as a player isn't helping much either. - @purplekiwis

Harry is a young professor and Y/N has never felt this kind of attraction before - @novelistrry

••• OCTOBER •••

Stop Thinking so Much | In which Harry teaches english and some poetry is hard to pick apart. - @meetevieinthehallway

Dog Days are Over | ♡ In which Y/n and Harry walk their dogs in the same park. Though, over the course of time, buying each other coffee turns into something more. - @nationalharryleague

The Witching Hour | ♡ Despite Harry being the witch in this situation, maybe his crush on gemma's new friend was going to be the most bewitching thing he ever encountered. - @moonchildstyles

Nest | Harry is y/n's best friend. He also happens to be an alpha. Spending a week at his place has her brain doing weird things. - @moonchildstyles

Pebbles and The Scarecrow | ♡ In which Harry doesn’t like Halloween until a certain pair of trick or treaters knock on his door. - @havethetimeofyourstyles

Banana Pancakes | Nanny!Harry falls in love with his little girl, and the mother of his little girl. - @ill-be-your-honey-bri

Golden | In which Y/n's life is dark but the Harry, The Fae King, sees she's golden. - @angelisverba

Better man - Harry and Y/n are famous and dating. Now, Harry is attending a party just 'cause he knows that Y/n would surely be there, and Y/n seems to be escaping her date so hard that she meets Harry outside the bathrooms. - @bopbopstyles

Masterlist for more recs! My Writing account - @0oolookitsme

[miintsprigz]

Hello!! What would Spy, Scout, and Engie be like with a s/o who is startlingly good at voice impressions?

Dang, Anon, kept ya waitin’ long enough?

Thank you for your patience! I hope that this brightens your day.

Gonna do bullet points for this one just because I think it’ll work better. Apologies that this one isn’t as long, this is a really creative prompt! I just didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer. 💚

Mercs With A S/O Who Does Voice Impressions

Characters: Spy, Scout, Engineer (Team Fortress 2)

Warnings: none come to mind

Spy 🥖

•Spy discovered your hidden talent one day when you were asking him if he wanted to accompany you out for a quick grocery store run…on what happened to be a rather rainy day.

• “(Y/N), mon bijou, as much as I love being around you, the rain will—”

• “… ‘ruin the new shoes I just got, and I can’t have this suit getting wet either’.” You’d been working on that one for a while. Spy stared at you, actually slightly slack-jawed.

• “…pardon?” “Didn’t know I could do that, did you?” “…no, no I did not.”

•Honestly? He’s just a little jealous. That was kind of his thing? I dunno, man just wants to be a bit special.

•That being said, as you start implementing this into your talks with him more and more, he finds it to be yet another quality that makes you lovely.

•He’ll tease you at times. “How can I be sure you aren’t an enemy spy?” You laughed at this, resting your hands on his shoulders. “I dunno, do these feel like the hands of an enemy spy?”

•Biting back a laugh, he shakes his head and pulls you closer, dipping you into a kiss. As he draws back, he smirks. “And those feel like the lips of my love…very well. You must be the real one.”

Scout ⚾️

•You actually first utilized this ability of yours as a hail-mary during a fight. Scout was close to bringing the briefcase to safety when the enemy Scout suddenly charged.

•Seeing this, you looked over at Heavy, hoping he would be okay with this. “‘GOOD TIME TO RUN, COWARD!’”, you mimicked. Instinctually, the enemy Scout flinched in terror. Giving yourself just enough time…

• “Heavy! Thanks for the help, man.” “Scout, I was not over there…” “But I heard you right behind me…” The gears in his head visibly turned.

• “Oh! That would be (Y/N). They are very good at that.” Jeremy’s mouth dropped open, only to immediately curve into a huge grin. “(Y/N)…for real??? Do it again!”

• With a proud grin, you obliged. “‘(Y/N) can sound like giant man!’ See?” Scout howled with delighted laughter.

• “Whoa-ho-ho, that’s freakin’ SICK, (Y/N)! Why didn’t you ever show me you could do dat?” “I dunno, it never really came up in conversation.”

•From that point on, he’d ask if you could “do the thing” all the time. You almost always agreed, his reactions were the cutest. He’d actively show it off, with your permission.

• “Yo, my baby here, watch ‘em. …ain’t that cool?!”

•Scout was actually pretty decent at impressions himself (you already know where he got that from), and sometimes the two of you would go back and forth for a while, cracking yourselves up.

•There came a time where you rolled your eyes at one of his requests. That seemed to make him a little nervous.

• “Hey uh…(Y/N)…do you want me to stop askin’ you to do the voices?” “Huh? Oh…I mean, if I’m tired, maybe.” “Arright…I know you’re probably sick of doin’ it, but I just think it’s so cool.”

•You giggled. He looked all lovestruck even now. “I’m glad you think so~” “You really are the coolest, babe, you know that? All around. I’m the luckiest guy in this whole place.” “Awww~”

Engineer ⚙️

•The first time you did this, it was to try and mess with Dell just a little.

• “‘Needa dispenser here!’” “Scout? Where’d you need that dispenser?” “I have no idea whatcha talkin’ about.” “What? But I just heard ya!” “Hardhat, I wasn’t even over there!”

•You only got away with this a few more times before he caught you midway through. His head turned quick enough to see your mouth moving.

•With the way his goggles and hardhat covered up some of the more expressive parts of his face, you couldn’t tell if he was genuinely mad or not. “(Y/N), that’s you doin’ that, ain’t it?”

• “Yeah…” Your face flushed slightly with embarrassment. “…sorry. Got carried away.” Shaking his head, the serious expression began to break somewhat, chuckling. “Ah, no harm no foul, I s’pose. Just uh…not while I’m workin’, maybe?”

•With a smirk, you mimicked him perfectly. “‘Alrighty, partner.’” “Hoo, that really is uncanny, ain’t it? How do you do that?” Holding a finger to your lips, you snickered, and you could tell he was rolling his eyes at you.

•A week or two later, while you were on break, you heard him calling you. “Engie?” Following his voice to his workshop, you looked for him. He was nowhere to be seen in here…but you’d sworn his voice had come from here.

•Looking down, you saw a new machine on his desk. Looking closer, you saw a speaker.

• “Checkmate, darlin’!” With a hearty laugh, Engie leaned in through the doorway. “Okay, you got me…” It was your turn to roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh.

•The two of you actually would utilize this on the battlefield if you had the energy for it, getting the other team mixed up. Both of you got quite the laugh out of it.

•He never really asked you to do any of that on your own time though.

•One night, he even took you on the side after using that technique. “Hey, (Y/N)…you know I love hearin’ you as yourself more than any of your impressions, right?” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

•Laughing, you rested your head against him. “Yeah, don’t worry, I know.”

• “Alright. Just wanted to make sure.”

[milaisreading]

hihi!! just an idea :)

The post abt bachira and the others making posts on twitter and crossdresser! yn does actually get in trouble with JFA so after getting scolded by them it weighs on het shoulders a lil bit (cuz how was she meant to stop them?) and now the team is mad at bachira, isagi and kurona and maybe try cheering up crossdresser! yn?

Sorry for the mouthful😅

Love the works! <33 take care( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

🌱🩷: Thank u for the request, and I am happy u are enjoying the stories so far! Hope u like this🫶🏻

Inspo

Warnings: Reader uses she/her, but since she is crossdressing here, the guys use he/him. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke ⚽️

"We said to watch over your team and what they post. Do you know how bad it would have been for us if the media saw that."

"Or worse, some of the investors."

"We really should switch you out as the captain. You know nothing!"

(Y/n) cringed as the higher ups of the JFA threw those words at her.

'This isn't fair. How is any of this my fault?' She bit back her words, knowing that Anri and Ego are probably eavesdropping on the conversation.

"I am sorry. It won't happen again. I took the phones away from them and Teieri-san promised we will go over with everyone what can and can't be posted." (Y/n) said, bowing down as another man rolled his eyes.

"It better not happen. As a captain you take some responsibility as well."

"I understand." (Y/n) repeated and excused herself. Walking out of the room, she ignored both Ego and Anri, she just wanted go back to her room. Anri, worried for the girl, walked after her, leaving Ego to deal with the JFA.

"(Y/n), are you alright? Please talk to me." Anri said in worry, but got no response for a good few minutes. Eventually, all the words got to her and (Y/n) stopped in her tracks.

"(Y/n)..."

"This isn't fair, Teieri-san. All of this is too much for me. I know as a captain I have certain responsibilities, but I am not the PR manager of the team." Anri watched as the girl started tearing up.

"How was I supposed to know Bachira, Isagi, and Kurona would start messing on their profiles?! I don't understand how..." The girl started sobbing and Anri pulled her into a hug.

"It's not your fault, mistakes happen. None of it is your fault."

"I am just tired. I wish I never became the captain, or joined Blue lock. Can I just leave?"

"Don't say that. Listen, go and rest for a bit. Some sleep might do you good."

While Anri tried to calm her down, neither noticed Barou and Rin spying on them... and boy, they were mad!

"Isagi, Bachira, Kurona!!" The trio tensed up as they heard Barou's yell. He was so loud and mad that it caught the attention of other teammates.

"What is this yelling about?" Nagi raised an eyebrow.

"Dunno... Barou and Rin seem angrier than usually." Kunigami shrugged his shoulders.

"What are you yelling about?" Bachira groaned as he got off the ground, Isagi and Kurona also raised an eyebrow as well.

"You three and your stupid posts earlier on are the reason he is yelling!" Rin bit back.

"You don't mean that dumb thread Bachira started? Calm down, it wasn't anything scandalous." Chigiri tried to intervene. This earned a nod from Aryu as well.

"Yeah, it was stupid, but nothing serious."

"Is it worth yelling about it? They got their phones taken away, anyway." Tokimitsu added in. He really wasn't willing to listen to any yelling right now.

"Besides, all three of us got scolded by (Y/n) already. I don't see why you two want to do it as well." Isagi's words earned him a glare from Rin.

"And all three of you should be scolded again! You are the reason he is crying now!" Barou chimed in. This caused the trio to tense up and the rest of the team to narrow their eyes.

"What do you mean with cry? He looked pretty calm when I talked to him." Gagamaru said, Hiori soon after nodding his head.

"Yeah, he even found the situation a little funny."

"Well, those old sacks at the JFA didn't find it funny. Appeared they yelled at him and threw insults at him for that thread." Rin rolled his eyes.

"Yelled at him? You aren't serious, right?" Kurona asked quietly.

"No, we aren't kidding. We heard him cry to Teieri-san about it." Barou answered. The rest of the team was pretty tense by now, shifting their focus to glare at the nervous trio.

"So, he cried? Really cried? Is he ok now?" Niko asked in worry.

"It's so weird to imagine (Y/n) cry. He is always so composed. Whatever they said, must have really stung." Reo narrowed his eyes as Nagi and Karasu cracked their knuckles.

"Let us handle them." Karasu said rather cheerfully.

"But first! You 3 need to fix this with (Y/n). It's your fault after all." Yukimiya added in, causing the attention to be on the trio again.

"You are right... we will think of something." Isagi sighed, guilty for everything as Kurona and Bachira nodded their heads.

"Maybe food will do the trick?" Bachira wondered.

"Maybe, we can help you all. But, you better apologize to (Y/n) properly, got it?" Hiori smiled at them.

"Thank you." Kurona nodded his head as Otoya cleared his throat.

"Can we now beat up the JFA members?"

"No." Kunigami and Rin said at once.

"Do it some other time, we don't want to upset (Y/n) more." Gagamaru argued.

"Let's now focus on helping you 3 out." Chigir yawned, getting off of the floor.

A few hours later and the trio had prepared the food for (Y/n) and did some of the chores she was supposed to do. After she woke up from a longer nap, she was surprised to see Isagi at her door, but didn't think much of it. The real surprise was when she was sat down at the cafeteria, and it wasn't the food that she normally ate that was served to her.

"Huh? I shouldn't be eating this? Does the system have some issues again?" (Y/n) wondered, but earned a protest from Kurona.

"Actually, Isagi and I made it for you. As an apology for what happened earlier today." Isagi nodded his head, confusing (Y/n) more.

"What do you mean?"

"We wanted to apologize for those posts we made... we got you in a lot of trouble for it. I even did the chores that you had to, so that you can relax tonight." Bachira said, smiling apologetically at her.

"Ha? You guys did all of this?"

"Mhm." They nodded their heads. The rest of the cafeteria was pretty much silent, waiting for what might happen next.

"You... you guys really didn't have to. I already said I wasn't mad, the whole thing was funny to me. It's just that the JFA made a huge fuss over it." She rolled her eyes, remembering the yelling from earlier.

"It's all good now, don't beat yourselves up over it. Now, let's eat dinner." She smiled while gesturing at the empty eats. The trio, relieved that it all worked out well in the end, nodded their heads and went to get their own food before sitting down to eat with (Y/n). And, while the rest of the team was happy to see their captain smiling again, they couldn't help but feel down over the fact that she let the trio sit with her.

'That should have been me.'

'Lucky bastards...'

[jumexju]

REQ !! : hiiii!!!! im inlove with your fanfics and I was wondering if I could request tobirama senju x reader who hurt themself on the mission, leading them to go blind ? you can decide if it's an established relationship or not ! have a great rest of your day ! <333. - anon

THE HAZE (req)

Pairing !! : Senju Tobirama / GN Reader

Fic Type !! : One-Shot / Fluff / Comfort

CW !! : Very little mention of blood in the beginning & violence (not by tobi) in the beginning, insecurity & self-doubt, apart from that, none !

Summary !! : You get hurt on a mission, causing you to lose your sight. Luckily, you have Tobirama to help you.

Notes !! : I really enjoyed writing this, I hope you like it oomfie ^^!!

✦ MASTERLIST

It happened all too fast. 

One second you were fighting spy shinobi from the hidden sound, the next — you couldn’t see anything, only being able to feel the stinging pain of a kunai slash your face. The only thing your teammates heard after the devastating blow were your screams and cries that you couldn’t see anything. After your teammates had eliminated the enemy, one of them carried you on their back to bring you to the village hospital so that a medical ninja could treat you. 

When an Anbu Black Ops member — one of the four on your team to be exact — appeared before Tobirama, he knew that the news he would be receiving would not only be a report on how the mission went. 

“They’re in the hospital, Lord Second.” The shinobi replied to him after he had been asked for your whereabouts. Tobirama grunted as he got up from his desk and walked to the door, hesitating to open it. 

“Did the shinobi who attacked them get away?” His tone was sharp, demanding. 

“No, Lord Second.” 

“You’re dismissed,” Tobirama said before leaving his office and heading to the hospital to see the condition you were in. 

After a few hours of the treatment by the medical ninja, they had broken the news to you. The cut on your face would be able to heal, only leaving a scar in its wake, but you would never again be able to see. ‘You would never again be able to see..’ ..The words rang in your head, you didn’t know what to feel after hearing the news. You couldn’t open your eyes due to the injury being wrapped with gauze, but it’s not like having your eyes open or not would make a difference — You still wouldn’t be able to see. 

“What do you mean I can’t go in?” Tobirama’s brows furrowed at what one of the nurses in charge of your room had told him. 

“They’ve asked that no one come into their room, Lord second,” The poor nurse seemed conflicted, “Not even yourself..” The man huffed, staring at your door before walking out again. 

If he couldn’t go in through the door, then he’d go in through the window. Nothing — no one — could keep him from seeing you. 

Not even you. 

Your head hung low as you wondered what you looked like, although you had a good idea of what  the scar would look like, since you could still feel the dull pain of the slash across your face. 

“_____.” 

You picked your head up, recognizing the familiar voice that had called your name. “.. Tobi?” Your head darted from side to side, trying to listen for any clues of where he was. “I didn’t hear the door open, where did you-” 

“Why did you tell them not to let me in?” Tobirama was never one to beat around the bush, always facing things head-on. You stayed silent, fidgeting with your fingers. “_____. ..Why?” 

You sighed, “I didn’t.. want you to see me.” That was only the simple explanation. The truth was, you felt horrible at the fact that you would never be able to see him again, you wouldn’t be able to experience the world with him in the same way as before. You could hear his voice and feel his touch but you would never be able to see him again. You felt the mattress dip next to you and a warm hand — his hand — hold your anxious ones. 

“What did the medics say? ..about your condition, I mean.” Tobirama asked, straight to the point as always. 

“..They said..” You could feel tears pour from your closed eyes as you tried to force the words out of your lips. “They said.. I wouldn’t be able to see anymore.” 

“So.. you’re not in critical condition? You’ll be okay?” He asked, an unfamiliar sound of worry subtly evident in his voice, feeling his thumb brush away your tears afterwards. 

“I’ll be fine, it’s just.. My sight– Or well, my lack of it.” You didn’t sound happy, at all. Tobirama could tell that much, but all he cared about was the fact that you were going to live. Truthfully, Tobirama could care less if you could see or not, as long as he had you beside him. Suddenly, you could feel strong arms encase you in a warm and comforting embrace, a warm vanilla scent emitting from Tobirama as he hugged you. You hesitated to hug him back but did so after a while. You were confused — was he not.. disappointed after hearing the news? After a few moments, you pulled back from him. “..You’re not disappointed?” 

A puzzled look washed over his face — not that you could see it though. “Disappointed? Why would I be disappointed?” 

“Well.. my blindness is permanent so..” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” It was a serious question. Did you really think he would just leave you because of your new disability? As if. 

“I won’t be able to experience the world in the same way as you, Tobirama..” You somehow felt even sadder after saying it outloud. Guilty even, because you knew you would cause him an inconvenience. You would have to learn to read differently and you wouldn’t be able to enjoy the warm mornings when you woke up with him in the same way anymore. Things would be different now that you had lost your sight. 

“Maybe,” He said, “But you’ll still be by my side — and that’s all I need.” He said it with passion because he meant it. He wouldn’t be leaving you anytime soon. 

“..I’ll be a burden to you.” You stated it as if it was to be a fact — which was farther from the truth in Tobirama’s mind. 

“You won’t. I once told you I'd be with you through the hard times and I am a man of my word. You of all people should know this best, _____.” His words were serious, but you could tell there was an underlying tone of tenderness to them. 

This man loved you- Truly loved you. 

Things were different after you had lost your sight.

You couldn’t see people’s expressions, not their happy ones, nor their annoyed ones. You couldn’t read people’s emotions as you used to do before the incident. And you surely couldn’t navigate your own home the way you used to. It was humiliating, at first. You felt like a child that needed help to just survive, help that you certainly didn’t need at first. You never thought that you’d ever have to rely on Tobirama so much as you did now.

But it was getting easier. 

Though your sight was completely gone — Your other senses stepped up, as if wanting to make up for the lack of it. You could hear even the subtlest of sounds and this was no doubt thanks to your lover. Tobirama had proposed — after about a month that you had spent healing — that he help you hone your other senses through training with him. You had agreed to it, thinking that it’d help you feel less helpless (which it did). But not only did it improve your self-esteem, your other senses had become more sensitive to stimuli. Over time, your kinesthetic sense also improved. You became more aware of the layout of your home, no longer needing Tobirama’s help around the house whenever you wanted to do something (except for cooking, you were currently taking a break from that after you almost burned the house down).

Currently, you were in the middle of training with your now fiancé. You could feel a bead of sweat drip down the side of your face as you tried to anticipate where he would come from. Your ears picked up on the rustling of leaves and you turned your head to face in that direction. You were about to throw a kunai in its direction before you felt a large, calloused hand rest on your shoulder, “I win, again.” 

You groaned, “That’s not fair! I’m handicapped.” You crossed your arms, you’d roll your eyes if you could, too. 

“That can’t be your excuse all the time, you know. Not if you wanna be sent out on missions again.” There was a small smirk on his face as his arms circled around your waist, pulling you close to him. 

“I know, but still.” you pouted and sighed before leaning into him, resting the back of your head on his shoulder. “I appreciate you doing this for me, Tobi.” A smile graced your features, something that Tobirama had missed dearly. Since the incident, your smiles became scarce — Though you seemed to be smiling more lately. 

“I would do anything for you.” He spoke into your ear before he planted a chaste kiss on your jaw. 

“Anything?” you chimed. 

“Anything.” He confirmed before he kissed your lips lovingly. 

[simp-ly-writes]

Suits, Ties, and Thus Spies (pt.4)

Pairing: Spy!Task Force 141 x Handler!Reader

Summary: Taking notes off the recent missions and getting pushed into another. More intensive training has your new relationships straining beyond what you imagined. You can only hope that they all will be with you for when the actual mission starts.

Warnings:4000~ words, light swearing, blood, violence, torture. A/N: a bit of a longer one stuffed with drama... Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

10:00 AM | Autumn | Taylor Tailors Headquarters 

Stuffed inside the private vehicle. Price was gripping the dividing wall in front of him as the car drifted slightly at the slurry forming beneath the tires. Winter had decided to come at a sudden and the team captain was restless not being the one responsible for the vehicle. A voice came over the intercom- only further irritating the man. “I do assure you agents-in-training that I have been driving for the company longer than many of your careers. Oh,” the woman laughs out, bright red lipstick reflecting in the windshield as she soars down the driveway and into the parking garage. “Stop pissing in your pants now, we are almost there- promise.” 

Riley shakes his head, leaning against the window as Johnny bounces across from him, bumping Price's shoulder repeatedly. Gaz inspects his suit, wondering where you all were headed- he was praying for something warm but from all the seemingly random items you forced them to back within their bags… he was still quite unsure of it all. 

The door is soon thrown open, Riley turns slowly- glaring into an eye-widened surprise to see Samantha who only sharpens her smile, lips turning into a thin smile. Her black hair shimmers under the artificial lighting as the car honks-locked. The group trailing and presenting their IDs to the scanner, the front desk seemingly empty as a phone rings softly from behind the wood. Johnny makes a joke reaching towards the phone before Samantha turns sharply back on her heel, tea and muffin in hand within the blink of an eye- slapping his hand away with a wink. “Hello Agent Whitby-yes. They have just arrived, I’ll send them your way in just a moment.”

Turning her head upwards, she greets them all with a handshake before another team moves their bags into the locker room. Samantha's heels click against the tiles as she ascends the stairs. Still stunned by the headquarters interior, Price bumps into Kyle who can only smile before admiring the tree sculptures of fighters into what appears to be an artificial sunroom. Whitby stands in the centre, his shirt misplaced as he fights off the AI people that swarm him. Their pixels crumble towards the floor as they are defeated just as another spawns in his spot. 

Samantha claps her hands, the heat leaving the room as an artificial voice speaks of Whitby's score. Smiling as Samantha hands him the muffin, she takes a sip of her tea- eyeing the way his shoulders rise and fall before turning and smiling at the rest of the men. “Have a good session you all, I will be at the front desk for the next few hours if you need anything.” The door softly clicking closed behind her just as the air conditioning comes in and benches emerge from the floors. 

Taking a seat while drying himself off, Whitby motions a hand over, “Handler D has sent me the reports from our last mission with some personal notes… nothing to be ashamed of really- just the things we do a bit differently here.” Snapping his fingers, scans of cards appear in front of the task forces faces as they read through the notes and look through the compiled footage. Like a sports play-by-play little arrows and sticky notes are displayed all over- highlighting the next steps and offering compliments for others. 

The task force all nods over each word as Whitby stands, the screens disappearing just as the sunroom scene displays once more. Heat enters the room as sweat begins to drip from John's brow. “We are going to Greece for the next mission, heat is going to be one of our biggest enemies. Get used to sweating and to drinking wherever you can while out on patrol for hours. Mission file states that our princess has been kidnapped from her guarded tower- guards are shitting themselves- running about like little headless bitches and we are gonna solve all… or well most of their issues.” 

“Alright!” Soap cheers, tearing off his suit-jacket and rolling up his sleeves as the rest follow suit. Whitby stalks around the room, adjusting their position independently and as a team throughout the various planned scenarios. He keeps looking at seemingly a normal wall, making multiple hand signals as the course changes. Kyle narrows his eyes, seeing through to a control room as Doctor Charlotte Derby stands, clipboard in hand as she whispers commands to the operator. The lady smiles and copies, mouth forming a smile as laughs seemingly are shared in the room before Kyle is slipping on the floor beneath him, slipping on the rain that started to fall within the room. 

Shrugging his shoulders he continues to race between halls as the rest of the boys improve upon their communication with the new tools they have on themselves. Time slipping by as late lunch emerges. “Are we going to be seeing Handler Dee at any time today?” Price asks, taking a bite of his meal within one of the restaurants the base provided. Whitby wipes his mouth clean with the provided serviette, taking a sip of his drink before clearing his throat. “Potentially, they are in a fitting currently- are there any concerns?” The agent questions, raising a brow and meeting each of their eyes. 

Slapping a hand on his shoulder, Johnny shakes his head before diving back into his meal. Whitby shuffles his suit back into place, shimmying in his seat before motioning Charlotte to join them. Standing himself up- offering the lady the booth seat, he pulls up a chair from an empty table, sitting at the end before conversation settles upon the files the Doctor spreads across the table. “You all made wonderful improvements, I’m sure Handler Dee is smiling ear to ear at the news from Samantha's call. There are still some mental tests I have to finish with you all today before we can let you board that plane tonight but you should all be proud of yourselves nonetheless.” She finishes with a bright smile, sneaking a bit of Whitby's food with a wink as he playfully glares back before motioning for her to hand him his drink. 

The group revolves into their own conversations as Whitby curses softly underneath his breath, “I do apologise everyone but work is calling, I wish you all a good start to your mission-”

“You’re not coming with us?” Simon asks, addressing the group for the first time today as Whitby has to do a double take, ensuring that he did in fact get a response from the man after hours of trying to spark conversation. “No sadly, though I do look great in a Swimsuit-” Charlotte smacks his shoulder. Taking the offensive hand, Whitby leans over, kissing her on the cheek with a cheesy smile before bowing and leaving out the door. 

John stacks everyone's plates just as Charlotte pays the bill and directs the group over to a private lounge. Papers already wait in a stack, the grandfather clock in the corner ticks lightly as Soap swears to see the eyes of a painting move in his peripheral vision. “Alright, you all have two hours to complete this basic intelligence quiz and I have the languages and mathematics set up for us till the dinner hour. I will be sitting just off to the side here if you have any questions or concerns, good luck you all.” 

–

Whitby quietly enters the fitting room, standing off to the side as he tilts his head- a small smile forming in his eyes before growing as he takes in your new uniform. Cream coloured with a linen dress shirt underneath, you are a cloud drifting its way towards his navy blue suit embroidered with small floral designs only seen underneath the warm lighting. An assistant shakes their head mocking as you step off the pedestal, making a playful runway walk towards the agent just as he picks up your hand, giving you a twirl before pulling you into his chest. 

“You look amazing,” he mumbles before pulling away, still holding your hand. Thomas and Evan wave their sewing materials behind you, signaling for your return as Whitby helps you to stand back up. He takes a seat in front of you, setting a timer on his watch, his head resting against his fist, arm following chairs to the edge in a 90 degree angle. “Anything outstanding to report,” you make small talk, watching as their hands masterfully work the fabric and smile when they remember all the little details you voiced in passing throughout the years. Another favorite to add to the closet, you think to yourself. 

“Nothing quite, love. They all served well- more field time will show everything I’m sure of it. Charlotte said their first written test results are coming out well for not going through our overly formal training. How many missions do we have with them again?” His knee starts to bounce as your eyes snap over to the movements, leading up to his glass-framed eyes as he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side in a cat-like motion- challenging you silently to a staring contest. 

Both your eyes begin to burn, competition brewing under each of your skins as Jason coughs, the head tailor looking bored at the exchange before signaling the assistant to take their breaks as he picks the work back up. “One more after this one and then Laswell and I are even,” you state, blinking rapidly just as Wihtby moves his glasses to rub his eyes. The room falls silent before Whitby stands, turning on the record player as soft classical music starts to surround the room. Humming to the strings, Whitby makes an exit- continuing his performance down the hall and towards the offices for his own mission. 

You watch his exit- eyes softening as a cough from behind has you rolling your head back as Jason squeezes your nose as you scrunch it up in distaste. “What was that for?” you question. “Say yes to that poor man already, you two have been dragging this charade on for a decade too long- who knows what will come first for you both, a new partner, another promotion, death?-”

“Jason!” you hiss out, “Please, not just before a mission- can’t have that especially on something like this. Its our future head of state for fucks sake!” you curse out just as Jason trims the last bit of string from your shoulder, marking the project complete. “Apologies, Handler but I just want to see my two friends happy in a job where temporary is the definition.” You nod your head in response, “Thank you for the suit,” you add in a lightened tone as Jason sends you an apologetic smile- waving as you leave the room and he begins to back up the supplies. 

–

6:00 PM | Autumn | Taylor Tailors Headquarters 

“HANDLER!” a voice shouts, your shoulders jumping up-tensing as you turn on your foot like a robot. “Handler D!” The voice shouts again, footsteps rapid as they turn around the corner, Handler Jacobs nears, a tower of folders underneath his arm, his tie over his shoulder as you help him to address his appearance- taking the papers from underneath his arm as you both make your way towards the lobby. 

“The reports from my side before I send it all over to the higher-ups. Would you mind if I stole the other 3 or so agents you have out in Russia? There has been an uprising in France, some internet criminals rising havac and…” You raise your palm as the Handlers rambles soon fall short. “Yes, Handler,” you state with a smile- eyes going wide as he pulls you into an energetic squeeze. You wince from the impact, the files flooding the floors beneath as you groan out, eyes searching the mess beneath as he lets you go. Slipping on the files in a daze and back down the hall. 

Sighing to yourself, you begin to work through the documents, leveling them back into a stack as a group of footsteps come from behind. You curse, cheeks firing red as you turn around, straightening your hair and kicking another folder off to the side, your eyes flash with horror as your newest agents stop in their tracks, looking at your off-guard appearance with curiosity before snapping towards the mess underneath you. 

Without a word or mocking comment, the men get to work, helping you to pick up the remaining files as Gaz helps you to arrange them back into the appropriate places. “How’d things get like this?” Simon questions as you blink up at the man kneeling beside you, handing you another bundle of papers as you blush in embarrassment. “An over-excited Handler.” Is all you say with a huff, beginning to stand. John rushes to place a hand on the banister above your head. You duck from the movement, standing up more quickly before looking at its placement. Sending him a warm smile, he only nods in reply as Johnny and Kyle split the papers, walking them over to the mailboxes with you. 

‘Thank you all,” you comment while singing off on the last document within the office before the parcel goes through the shoot and up towards the street level. “S’nothing,” Johnny states, eyes crinkling. “Coffee, anyone?” you ask the group once seeing the time on your wrist, a series of tired mumbles sound within the room as you make your way towards the nearby break room. 

Samantha stands in the room, leaning against the water fountain before standing to attention at your presence. “At ease,” you comment as she moves to sit down at an empty table. You take the orders of the room just as Simon helps you to bring the rest of the drinks over as you all sit. With hands wrapped around the warm mug's surface, you lean back in your chair, ankles crossing underneath the table as Samantha starts to read through her messages on her phone- seemingly lost in her own world. “So…” you begin, looking at each tired face with remorse. This is only the beginning…

“How was this morning's training? You think you are alright to finish the rest of the planned material tonight?” you ask softly before taking a sip of your drink, humming contently as the warm liquid floods your senses. “There’s more?” Kyle asks softly, voice carrying strain as Johnny groans beside him, having used all his energy this morning he leans his head into Simon's shoulder who grunts yet does not shove the man off. 

“Well, yes.” You state, “And the most damning of them all unfortunately. I will be walking you all through our captive training. How to live through waterboarding, to not suffocate in toxins. How to find your way outside of restraints in multiple positions and live to see another day,” you perform hands fling off your cup and into the air as you make grand gestures. Samantha looks up from her phone, as if seeing a ghost she rapidly shakes her head. “Good luck you all,” horror flashing through her eyes, “the utter SHIT you experience in there…” she shakes her head, seemingly unable to finish the sentence before standing up quicking and darting out of the room before you could comfort the woman. 

John looks to the group, trying to hide his growing worry as he scratches at his bread before looking back at you staring right through him. Placing a light hand on top of his formed fist upon the table, it uncurls and you pull your hand away soon after. “I will be with you all the whole time.” You state, eyes hollow as you hold out better than Samantha, everyone had to go through this training eventually- yet it stayed with you forever. 

–

You watch from behind the impact and bullet-proof glass. The room slowly starts to fill with water, you listening to their heart monitors flooding your room, raging above the waves. John is already directly out orders, looking around for an escape. The lights flicker, the electrical starting to become enveloped by the quick rising water before turning black. Fighting to open a case underneath the water, Simon rips out a flashlight, tossing it over towards Kyle who turns it on, pressing it in his mouth as he dives under, scanning the floors for a potential secret door. 

He emerges as the rest of the taskforce now treads water- the level almost reaching the ceiling. Each taking one last breath, they twist and turn, eyes wide and burning from the growing pressure. You step back from the glass as John swims up to it, trying to peer into the room as you make your way outside, greeting Charlotte who stands with warm towels ready for the next event. You both mentally count towards ten, the sounds of the glass shattering, the water pouring out underneath the door as you stand cold-faced and unmoving.

The boys stumbled out into the hall, adrenaline still pumping through their ears, their bodies shivering as they ran over to you, gripping a towel around their shoulders. Yet what you don’t expect is for Kyle to hug you seemingly out of the view before dropping you just as quickly. John watches them interacting softly as Simon stands behind him observing quietly as well. Johnny cheers out in celebration once realizing everyone is safe before slinging a still wet arm around the Doctor's shoulders as he bounces up and down. “You had done well to complete the first trial,” you speak in a monotone form that has Simon peering down at you, trying to crack your exterior yet you remain unrelenting. Understanding of your pivotal role during these times just as your past mentors have done so for you. 

“On to the next,” Charlotte announces, stepping away from Johnny before breaking a small shake of his shoulder in congratulations. A series of small separate rooms greet you, tears begin to well in your eyes from the horrors that you had witnessed. Shaking your head, you turn and motion for each man to pick a room as the door locks shut behind them before climbing up a ladder. Through the intercom you ask everyone to sit in the chair. You hear them yell out, former trainees from earlier in the day stand in the observation deck, looking down from the rafters and through the clear ceilings that you walk upon, observing them each, picking up a series of gas masks last minute, distributing a few to Charlotte before starting.  

The chair locks various restraints around their legs, arms, thighs and chest. Various different locks and chains of varying weights tug them into place. Your voice is shaking, “Your goal is to exit the room that will be flooded with gas. I am unable to enter the room while this session is in progress by any means- even in the face of potential death. Good luck, agents.” 

A loud horn sounds, the boxes flooded with red light as the soul illuminate, your grip your hands into fists as Charlotte stands across from you looking down, face falling and covering her features as she watches Simons eyes go wide as he stares up into her own before twisting himself in the chains forcefully, shouting as they allow for minimal movement. John's hands were shaking, the gradual lack of oxygen was going to kick in another 25 minutes and no one had made much progress. Kyle had unlocked the most- his and Soap’s bombs training seemed to provide the upperhead- one of their hands unlocked as they raced to unlock the other. 

A click can be heard, Simon had forced his wrist from underneath a series of chains, you wince at the blood and bruising of his fingertips- his gloves seemingly cut open as blood floods his suits fabric. He fumbles for a piece of his belt as you smile encouragingly down at him, happy that he remembered the hidden set of tools found within the buckle and by the sounds of Johnny's sharp intake of breath- he remembered as well. Looking down at your watch once more, you jump, the glass banging as each one looks up at the sudden noise. 10 minutes remain, Charlotte now grips your hand in her own, watching as the timer counts down.

A loud crash is heard, John is now laying sideways, his chair tipped over as blood seeps from his temple. Skull smashes into a chain just as he manages to kick his shoes off, shimmying off the chains of his feet and loops them around the legs of his chair, grunting before emitting a powerful shout as he tries to force himself back upright. Chair rocking back and forth as your drum begins to sound. Kyle had managed to unlock the remaining chains around his waist as he now stands, one left around his ankle yet he remains unbothered- repeatedly throwing his chair against the glass above- his door unable to open. 

Your eyes become cloudy, imagining yourself in his situation when you were in training. Your breathing becomes shallow, your palms sweating, dropping your tools rust as it runs down from your forehead, mixing in with your eyes as they burn. You cannot hear over your blood as it becomes less of escaping the room but of your panic instants. The drumming becomes loudly as you rush away from the glass as it shatters, you stumble back as Charlotte manages to hold you upright. Throwing the chair into the corner, the siren sounds and gas begins to rise from the floors and up into the air of the concealed rooms. Multiple trainees from the rafters above have fled the scene, throwing up in worry or to try and sleep away their own injuries.

A chain can be heard rustling above the siren, flinging over the side of the enclosure as Kyle pulls himself upwards. As soon as both his knees touch the glass, you are rushing over- slipping a gas mask over his face before Charlotte and a few other scientists pull him away to the final trail. You soon pull your own mask from resting on your neck. 

Much to your surprise, Simon is next out, he rips his mask to above his nose, taking in deep breaths before choking as the gas floods the space - condensing. You help him to strap on the mask just as another assistant tears him away from your grasp, out watch as he turns around to look at you with a panicked gaze before the door slams closed behind them both. In three more minutes, the remaining men would collapse from the lack of oxygen… you looked up into the red lights above, closing your eyes in a prayer before hearing more locks falling to the concrete floors below as you walked off the glass and onto a side stage. Johnny flings himself onto the glass, he does not even feel as it cuts through his skin, body delirious from the gas as his body is carried into the hall. John had two more minutes… you began to count them down, gripping the railing before falling to your knees as tears strained down your cheeks, fogging up your mask. A beep on your watch warned of the gas limit even with your mask on as a group of scientists forcefully removed you from the room as your nails scratched at their arms, you yelled out pleas. Brain seemingly lost to the gas- forgetting all of the formal qualities you were trained to possess for these torturous trials.

↳ Taglist: @thriving-n-jiving @cringeycookies @lilliumrorum @brokenpieces-72 @ashy-kit @notsaelty @hindi-si-ikay @sleepyycatt @no-lessthan3

[firestorm09890]

On Wuthering Heights and Canto VI (complete)

wow.

move over “Call me Ishmael” line, this is the Canto that most resembles its source book. We’ve got direct quotes! We’ve got scenes playing out like the original, beat for beat! I’m so glad I read Wuthering Heights beforehand, because unlike the previous ones where it just enhanced the experience a little (or even left me unsatisfied that they didn’t adapt certain things), I can’t imagine what it might’ve been like to not know everything in the book.

It’s kind of uncanny, actually, the extent to which things are similar. At the end of part 2 I was thinking about how there could’ve been a universe where the events of the book continued to stay the same if not for Erlking Heathcliff learning about the alternate worlds, and hey, after looking at so many universes of Catherine and Heathcliff making each other miserable, Dante (*edit: I wrote Cathy here first. I forgot it was Dante who saw it) found one where they’re happy together, both as ghosts, which! Is just the end of real actual Wuthering Heights!

We continued to have canon divergence in that way of "what if [character] had done something different?" which is always my favorite, even if some of it was just visions into a timeline where things were different. What if Heathcliff recognized he was just as bad as Hindley when it came to Hareton? What if Heathcliff and Cathy hadn't gone to spy on Thrushcross Grange that night? What if Heathcliff had stayed to listen to the rest of what Cathy had to say?

It's a tragedy, and Erlking Heathcliff, and our Heathcliff, and every other Heathcliff believed that it was the type where he was doomed from the start, because of who he is, and nothing can change that. But Dante knew that no, actually, it's a tragedy because of the choices that were made, and they can't be changed now, but you can change, and that's how you change your fate.

Individual characters

Not surprised Hindley distorted. I think this one had a lot more hate within him than the original

RIP Isabella Linton, I mean Isabella Edgar. She found someone who wasn't Heathcliff and her brother STILL stopped talking to her, and ended up being used by Erlking Heathcliff anyway

Speaking of Linton (Edgar). I don't have much to say because if I'm being honest I don't like him very much and everything he said was kinda overshadowed by his absolutely disgusting death. Catherine saying he looked like a prince out of a fairytale is very interesting considering how much he looks like the Black Swan guys

I'm sad Josephine died. It makes narrative sense but it would’ve been funny if she outlasted everyone else just like in the book

Cathy! There's a lot to say about Cathy but I'm not sure I can be the one to do it. I like her. I'm glad she was fucked up and we got our "everyone sucks here, you're perfect for each other, never involve anyone else in your business" but of course other people are getting involved because this is fucking Wuthering Heights

SPEAKING OF GETTING INVOLVED! NELLY!! I'm sooo glad they gave her the unreliable narrator trait, and managed to put the whole "burning letters" thing in there too. I'm also glad that when she did inevitably betray the team, she stayed exactly the same in personality. It's like she said herself, the happy moments in the past were real. I hope she stops associating with Hermann and goes to do something else with her life. Imagine finding out that in every universe you're wrapped up in Heathcliff and Cathy's bullshit

no Hareton or Catherine II, but Catherine I and Heathcliff did a fine job breaking the cycle themselves, I think.

there's probably more things to say about the Erlking and the Wild Hunt but I'm so tired

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: A Team Fortress 2 fanfic banner in the style of the game's achievement icons. A tattered yellow-white ID card is shown on a gray background. On the left side of the card is a stylized portrait of Miss Pauling, and on the right of the card is a stylized globe. On the right of the banner is the chapter's title in yellow-white, reading "CHAPTER EIGHT: IDENTITY THEFT" /end ID]

Flickering

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: K+ Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship Characters: Spy, Pyro, Miss Pauling, Medic, Heavy, Scout, Sniper Warnings: General references to trauma Fic Description: After the events of the comics, the mercs try to go back to how things were, but it’s never that easy.

Spy can see his teammates going through their own struggles… but something seems to be very, very wrong with Pyro in particular.

And since no one else seems to be doing anything about this, Spy makes it his mission to get to the bottom of what is troubling Pyro. For no particular reason.

Beta Readers: @mechmolar, @gonturan0, @junuve

---~~~---

Chapter 8: Identity Theft Summary: In which Spy makes use of his disguise kit.

---~~~---

Once again, Spy found himself staying on-base overnight. The drive out to the bookstore and back had been quite enough time on the road for him, after the little sleep he'd gotten the night prior, so he opted to stay rather than make the trip back home.

Fortunately the Pyro had not attempted another absurd bonfire that night, so those who chose to stay were able to sleep as well as they could. Which, for some, was not as well as might be hoped.

Spy woke before sunrise to the sound of voices—Medic's was the first he could identify, calm and authoritative and mildly annoyed, while the second was Heavy's, a low, quiet rumble. While normally he would not bother eavesdropping at such an early hour, the smell of blood from his dreams lingered in his nostrils, and he could do with a brief distraction. So, slipping out of bed, he crept to the door and listened.

"...have spoken with Herr Engineer about this, and no, it is not possible."

"Da, I know this."

"Then you did not have to wake me up at four in the morning."

"I did not mean to wake Doctor up. Only to check."

"That will not be necessary. If I am ever in mortal danger again, I will be sure to let you know."

Silence. No footfalls followed.

Medic went on, lowering his voice. "If it makes you feel better, you're not alone. That schweinhund keeps showing up in my nightmares."

"This... does not make Heavy feel better. Would like to help."

"You can do that by letting me sleep." The Medic sighed. "Tell you what—I can train Archimedes to come get you if there is a problem. Would this make you feel better?"

"...Da. I think so."

"Good. I can also prescribe you something to help you sleep."

"Maybe. Will see." A pause. "Goodnight, Doctor."

"Yes, good night."

Finally Heavy moved away, while Medic shut his door.

Spy stood for a moment, wondering if he should ask Medic for some sleep medication as well, but shook his head. No, he just needed to sleep in his own bed again, is all.

Yawning, he trudged back to the other side of the room and slipped into bed.

Everything was fine. They would be over this soon.

—-

Upon entering the mess hall, Spy abruptly remembered the events of yesterday when he found it near devoid of chairs and with multiple of his fellow mercs standing about awkwardly. Sniper lurked in a corner, nursing what was surely not his first cup of coffee; Engineer leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, eating a plate of eggs and bacon; Demo knelt awkwardly next to one of the tables, leaning his head against it; and Soldier sat in the only chair, shoveling burnt pancakes into his face.

Sighing, Spy turned away—perhaps today would be a good day to rest at home.

"The chair problem's bein' corrected," Engineer said, and Spy looked back at him. "Miss Pauling said she'd come deliver them herself."

Spy raised an eyebrow. "Good to know, but strange she would make the delivery herself."

Engineer shrugged. "I don't question these things."

"I don't expect you to," Spy muttered as he stepped past him and into the kitchen. Perhaps it would be beneficial for him to stay around a little while longer, if it meant he could speak with another potential source.

Breakfast went by quickly enough, and he hoped it wouldn't be much longer before Miss Pauling arrived. He had no desire to hang around the other mercenaries for the time being, and retreated to his bedroom, cracking open the window so he could hear Miss Pauling's vehicle when she arrived. He'd grabbed his book from his smoking room, but upon entering his room, he found his gaze drawn to the mirror.

Spy set down his book on his table and stood before the mirror. In one swift motion he whipped out his cigarette case and opened it. His gaze fell not upon his cigarettes, but the disguise kit. A few quick taps and a puff of smoke, and he found himself staring at the Engineer.

"Yee-haw, I struggle to pay attention to anything that is not made of metal!" he said mockingly in the Engineer's voice.

Rolling his eyes—invisible beneath those stupid goggles—he tapped the disguise kit again a few more times. A puff of smoke later, he was adjusting Medic's glasses. "I give pointless diagnoses and extremely unhelpful advice, and my lab reeks like a badly-maintained zoo!"

Spy shook his head, glancing down at the disguise kit again and looking through a few more disguises.

He paused.

He could, of course, turn into dead people. It was part of his modus operandi in battle—killing one of his enemies and then disguising himself as them in order to either sneak around or kill more of the enemy team. But...

For a long moment he stared at the name on the device, and, after a brief hesitation, hit the confirmation button.

When the smoke cleared, he was staring at Beatrice, the pyro of the former gray team. The disguise included her mask, but he removed it in order to stare at that face he remembered seeing what felt like a lifetime ago—the gray hair, the burn-scarred face, the singular eye. Yet... no, she still didn't look quite right.

Spy thought for a moment, then replicated a calm, smug grin.

There she was.

He would not soon forget that smile, nor the way it had twisted her face in dark, eager excitement as she looked at the Pyro.

"I like a challenge."

Spy shuddered as he spoke the words in her voice.

Admittedly, he sometimes felt joy at seeing his own enemies in pain. He might occasionally twist the knife—quite literally—but for the most part, he just did his job.

That was not, he knew, the case for this woman. This woman, who, when charged to interrogate them, asked Soldier one question before continuing to torture him, very clearly must have taken pleasure—joy, even—in what she did.

So what had she done to Pyro?

Spy lowered his head in thought. Off the top of his head, he knew what could be done to hurt most of his fellow mercenaries. Soldier, who took joy in his own torture, would have taken a severe blow to being told that he was not a true member of the United States armed forces. Heavy valued his family, and would potentially bend under threats made toward them. Engineer would be pained to see his hard work destroyed—not merely his beloved buildings, but his blueprints, which allowed him to rebuild them. He could go on, but there was no point. He knew what could hurt the others.

He did not know what could hurt Pyro—what had hurt Pyro. What had drained its life of color. What had brought it down to the point where if it dared to make a noise, it would degenerate into a panicked mess.

Looking up, he stared into Beatrice's eye.

"What did you do?"

He arranged her face into the same smug grin he saw the day she tortured Pyro, the day she died. And again he repeated the words he remembered her saying:

"I like a challenge."

Realization hit him like a sniper's bullet, and the disguise faded in a puff of smoke, leaving Spy staring wide-eyed at his own reflection.

His chest began to burn, and he stumbled over to his chair. A cigarette soon found its way into his mouth, hoping to cloud his disturbed thoughts, but his hands searched for his lighter, only to come up empty.

A motor rumbling outside interrupted his dazed thoughts, and initially he wondered where Sniper was off to before he remembered. Jumping up from his chair, he looked out the window and spotted a truck pulling in front of the base, and a familiar purple dress on the person stepping out of said truck.

Drawing in a breath, Spy straightened his jacket and exited his room. Perhaps he could talk to Miss Pauling about this—she may know something that he didn't.

But as he neared the front of the base—

"—I mean, you didn't have to come all the way out here just to see me, Miss Pauling!"

"I didn't. I came out here to deliver this myself because I knew if we sent someone else, you guys would shoot the delivery driver. ...Again."

Scout and Sniper had met Miss Pauling at the door, the latter sizing up the furniture in the back of the truck, and the former flexing his arms at every opportunity.

Scout shrugged. "Well, while you're here—"

"While you're here," Miss Pauling countered, "why don't you help me haul this stuff in." As she was turning away, she added, "Hi, Spy."

Scout looked over his shoulder, only to do a double-take. "What's with you? You seen a ghost or somethin'?"

Abruptly Spy realized that he'd been staring, and that the blood had drained from his face. But Scout was already shrugging and stepping out the door, followed by Sniper, who gave Spy a knowing look as he left.

"Yeah," Scout was saying outside. "I don't blame you for wanting first row tickets to the gunshow!"

"Oh! I'm going there with Heavy in a couple weeks, actually."

Gritting his teeth, Spy stormed into the mess hall, and, from there, into the kitchen. While normally he wouldn't bother with such menial tasks here, he removed his jacket and slipped some rubber gloves over his usual ones and began to wash the dishes that had been left to pile up in the sink. It would get him out of their way, and give him something to do while he waited for Scout to stop bothering Miss Pauling.

The sound of chair legs shrieking against the floor soon let him know that they were replacing the chairs in the mess hall. Above that, he could hear Scout's attempts at flirting, which might have amused him had it not made him remember a more dazed version of Scout's voice cracking jokes, when—

"Hey—hey! Heavy! Since when are you goin' on a date with Miss Pauling?!"

"What is Scout talking about?"

Seizing his opportunity, Spy yanked off the rubber gloves and whipped his jacket back on before hurrying out to meet Miss Pauling. He skirted past the utterly stupid argument unfolding in the mess hall and rushed out the front door, where he caught Sniper and Pauling both hauling in a new chair for the lounge.

"Miss Pauling," Spy said, and she gave him a grunt of acknowledgment. "May I have a word?"

"Yeah, sure, just let me—"

Spy approached one of the free sides of the chair and helped lift it up, bearing some of its weight.

"Oh, thanks!" She gave him a relieved smile, and the three of them carried the chair through the base and into the lounge, where they set it down. Wiping her brow, she heaved a sigh. "Sheesh, Pyro did a number here, huh?"

"Yeah," Sniper said, leaning against the chair. "Like I said, you shoulda' seen that bonfire it made!" He gestured with his hand in an attempt to indicate the height.

"Actually," Spy cut in, "that's what I wanted to talk with you about."

Miss Pauling raised an eyebrow. "The bonfire?"

Spy gave a quick look around—he hadn't seen Pyro yet today, but he didn't want to take a chance that it was anywhere nearby. Frowning, he motioned for Miss Pauling to follow him outside.

"Is it the furniture?" she asked, bewildered, as she followed. "I'm sorry, Spy, but we can't afford stuff that's as nice as what you have in your smoking room for every—"

"It's not that," Spy said as they stepped out the front door again. He looked back to see the Sniper had followed them out, but there was no reason to send him away. "It's... about the Pyro."

"Pyro?" Miss Pauling echoed. "I mean, it's not that weird for it to be setting fires."

"No, it's been acting strange. More violent on the battlefield, and strangely silent. It... managed to communicate recently that it no longer sees color."

"Oh, man..." Miss Pauling's brows knit with sympathy, and she lowered her head for a moment, only for it to shoot back up. "Oh! Do you think this is from whatever the enemy pyro did to it?"

"That is exactly what I think." He automatically tried to take a drag from his cigarette, only to remember it wasn't lit to begin with. With a growl, he tossed it to the ground and stomped it. "While I have yet to figure out the specifics of what happened... I may have figured out at least one of the details."

Both Miss Pauling and Sniper leaned forward in interest.

"Pyro has been silent, but I do not think it wants to be. However, whenever it does vocalize, it falls into a panic."

Miss Pauling looked down in thought, frowning. Meanwhile, Sniper hummed, and Spy wondered if some gossip about the incident at Medic's lab had gone around.

"Furthermore," Spy went on, "the enemy pyro took an interest in our Pyro when that idiot Soldier let slip that it could not talk."

He let that sink in for a moment. Sniper's brow furrowed, while Miss Pauling's head suddenly shot up, her eyes wide.

"I believe," he said, eyes narrowed in disgust, "the enemy pyro may have punished it for saying anything other than the information she desired."

Sniper scoffed. "That's ridiculous. Pyro can't talk—not with normal words, anyway."

"Exactly my point. She—"

"She saw it as a challenge!" Miss Pauling exclaimed, her face going pale. "She wanted to see if she could force Pyro to talk!" She wrapped her arms around herself. "Poor Pyro..." After a moment, she straightened, jabbing her thumb at the truck behind her. "I mean, all this is still coming out of its paycheck, but still."

"Bloody wankers," Sniper growled. "But what'd they even do to it?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Spy said, and looked at Miss Pauling. Sniper followed his gaze.

"...Wait," he said, pointing at Miss Pauling. "You knew about my birth parents, and where I came from. You gotta know something about where that bloke came from, or what it even is."

Miss Pauling winced. "Look, the Administrator wouldn't even tell me about it, so I'm as much in the dark as you are. Heck, she only told me about your parents because they were a lead on the world's remaining Australium."

Gritting his teeth, Sniper turned away.

"Surely there must be something you know?" Spy asked.

"Yeah—a lot! Just nothing in particular about Pyro, other than that it's not human." She rubbed her forehead. "Look—Medic might know something—"

"His knowledge is limited, as Pyro does not cooperate with examinations. What little he does know is classified."

"Ah, right. Just between him and the Administrator, huh?" Heaving a sigh, she tipped her head back. "Look, Spy... I'd really like to help you—or help Pyro, anyway—but I'm not sure what I can do."

"Well, Miss Pauling, given your unique position, I think there might be something you could do to retrieve the information I need. Even just to persuade the Administrator to—"

Miss Pauling gave a forced, humorless laugh. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen. Sorry." When Spy gave her a look, she softened. "No, seriously, I am sorry. But with how badly everything went with that last mission, I—" She cut herself off, and swallowed.

Spy looked at her for a moment, and she looked back, and he nodded slowly. "I understand."

"Thanks," she replied, her shoulders drooping. "I hope Pyro will be okay. It's nice of you to look out for it."

Spy shrugged. "It was merely a mission I gave myself, since no one else was looking into it."

Feeling the hair rise on the back of his neck, he knew Sniper was staring at him—for what reason, he didn't know, but he would not look back.

"Great!" Miss Pauling smiled, oblivious to the tension between the two mercenaries. "Sniper, could you help me get the last one?"

"Sure thing, mate." The Sniper followed Miss Pauling over to the back of the truck, but as he passed, gave Spy another look—one that seemed to say, we need to talk.

Absolutely not.

Frowning in thought, Spy hurried back into the base, heading down a few hallways until he neared the medical wing. There he stopped, looking around to make sure there was no one else around. There was no sign of anyone else heading this way, and, creeping up to the doors and listening, he could only hear Medic's voice speaking softly to Archimedes.

Casting one last look to assure himself he was alone, Spy whipped out his disguise kit.

A moment later, Miss Pauling burst into the lab. "Medic—? Oh, good, you're here."

Medic looked up, his eyebrows raised, while Archimedes fluttered up to the ceiling and Aristotle squeaked. "Ah, Miss Pauling! Good to see you!" the Medic said, smiling as he strolled up to meet her. "Finally come for your follow-up appointment? I've almost got the blood type separation technique worked out—"

"Uh, no, not today. I'm in a bit of a time crunch—since we set up office again, the Administrator realized she's missing some of the mercenaries' medical files, and I haven't had the chance to come out here until now."

Medic sighed. "Very well," he said, turning toward his filing cabinet. "Which ones did you need?"

"Just Scout, Soldier, and Pyro," she replied.

"Oh, you're in luck! I just updated Pyro's file recently."

"Yeah, great." Distractedly Miss Pauling looked around the lab, her eyes falling on Aristotle's, which were narrowed at her suspiciously. "Oh, uh, is... that the monkey you got from—never mind."

"Ja, he is!" Medic smiled as he went through the folders. "Say hello to the lady, Aristotle."

Aristotle hissed and scampered up to Medic's side.

"Now, now, that's no way to behave around patients like Miss Pauling!" Turning around, Medic wagged a finger at the baboon. "Only the bad patients. Now!" He held up the papers and looked up at Miss Pauling. "I'll make some copies of these and send you on your way. Stay here."

Miss Pauling held out a hand to protest, but Medic was already hurrying out the door. She watched him leave before turning back to Aristotle, who continued to glare at her. Then, in a deep, masculine voice that was not Miss Pauling's, she said, "What are you staring at?"

Shrieking, Aristotle scampered up on top of the filing cabinet and hid behind a pigeon nest.

Sighing, Miss Pauling crossed her arms, looking around the lab as she waited. Hearing the door open, she spun around. "Thanks, Medi—" The word caught in her throat.

Sniper stared at her from the doorway, holding out the copies of the medical records. "Looking for these, ya bloody wanker?"

"Uh, hi, Sniper!" She gave a nervous grin. "What are you doing here?"

"Dragging you out before Medic gets back." With that, he grabbed Miss Pauling's wrist and yanked her toward the doors.

"Sniper, what—?!"

His head whipped back to look at her. "Medic nearly chased the real Miss Pauling out the door to hand her these. I offered to run them out to her myself." He rushed her out the med bay doors and further down the hall, taking a couple turns before he slowed.

Meanwhile, Spy's disguise faded as he yanked his sleeve away from Sniper's hand. "I hope you've been washing your hands," he grumbled, dusting his sleeve off.

"You're welcome." Sniper stopped, and turned to face him.

"Now..." Spy reached for the papers. "Hand them over, bushman."

Sniper held the papers further away. "Tell me what this is about first."

Spy glared. "You already know what this is about."

"Oh, I do. It's you I'm not so sure about."

Rolling his eyes, Spy made another grab for the papers, only for Sniper to hold them away again. "You heard what I told Miss Pauling. I'm on a mission to find out what's happened to Pyro, and you are currently withholding vital intelligence for said mission."

"Yeah, you keep tellin' yourself that," Sniper said, his voice low.

"What are you talking about?"

Sniper leaned in closer, and Spy leaned back. "Funny, ain't it, how the one you decide to buddy up with is the one who can't talk back. Can't ask you what's wrong, or what you're running away from."

Anger bolted down Spy's spine. "Are you accusing me of being a coward? You're the one who hides in one place for an entire match!"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about, Spy." Even with his sunglasses, it was clear that Sniper was glaring at him. "Don't you. Or d'you have it buried so deep you don't even remember what you're buryin' anymore?"

"Stop talking nonsense and give me the papers!" Spy growled, making another swipe for them.

This time, Sniper let him snatch the papers, and leaned back. "...You really don't know, do you?"

Quickly he folded the papers and shoved them into his inner coat pocket before they could be grabbed away again. "What?"

Sniper went quiet for a long moment, before shrugging and turning away. "Nothing. Guess maybe you'll have to dig it up on your own."

Spy glared after him, but he was already heading away. He wasn't going to be digging anything, thank you—not in his suit, anyway. Instinctively he dusted off his sleeve again and hurried back up to his room, where he hopefully wouldn't be bothered any further.

Once safely in his room, Spy whipped the papers out of his pocket, unfolded them, and sat at his desk to read them over. For a moment he was confused at Soldier's papers being at the top before he recalled he'd asked for three of the mercs' medical records to avoid suspicion. He set the pages aside, and his eyes brightened at seeing the Pyro's class logo printed on one of the pages. He'd read this one before, when he'd first sneaked into Medic's lab, but now he had free access to all the information he needed. Setting aside the first page, he looked at the second.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the large text, reading:

DO NOT attempt to clean skin!!

Brows furrowed, he skimmed some of the writing after that, but there was no further information written on this point. Of course, he should have expected that—these were mainly for the Medic's reference, after all. Still, the other notes might prove useful. There was a recent date written, followed by more information:

Patient has submitted to a partial physical! Can be bribed with candy.

However, patient strongly resisted blood pressure and thyroid tests, likely due to recent trauma/shellshock. (Will try again later.)

"Goggles" seem to be a form of eyelid. Dense transparent lenses protect eyes beneath. Seems to be incapable of blinking.

Spy paused for a moment, and shuddered.

Heart rate elevated, though may or may not be due to anxiety. Normal heart rate unknown. More examination is necessary!

The notes on that page ended there, and Spy nearly crumpled them in frustration. Instead, he read them over again, his eyes drawn to the larger text once more. The previous page had noted the layer of soot coating Pyro's body, which Spy had witnessed himself. Could the soot be a protective layer? Or, perhaps, attempting to wash Pyro's skin resulted in injuring whatever poor sap attempted it. It did have a higher body temperature than normal—warm enough to burn someone, perhaps?

There was something there, he was sure. But what, he didn't know.

Sighing, he set the page aside, only to realize there was more beneath it.

Name: Jeremy—

Spy knocked a vial of ink over the papers, by complete accident and nothing more.

Some time later, he exited his room, and nearly bumped into the Pyro. Before he could stop himself, he held out the crumpled, ink-stained papers. "Here," he said. "Take these and burn them."

Pyro perked up and took the papers, but stared back at Spy, tilting its head.

Spy snorted. "How often does anyone give you kindling?"

Pyro stared at him a moment longer before turning back into its room, fishing its lighter out as it went. Spy watched it go, until it shut the door behind itself. With another sigh, he made his way down the stairs, only to stomp his foot on one of the steps.

That was his lighter!

[jermer10]

Heya! Was wonderin if ye could do a little drabble for Scout with a GN!S/O who's like pretty new to the team but is hella smug and overall just sorta acts alot like him but more chill and laid back? If this isn't exactly yer cup 'o tea or ye just dunno how to write this request, feel free 'ta ignore this!:]

Have a nice day/noon/afternoon/evening/night !!

TF2 hey, stranger | scout x reader

gn reader | as a scout enjoyer myself i LOVE this ask! i decided to write it as more of a slow burn-ish fic, hope you enjoy, anon!

drabbles under the cut :P

He had to rack his brain for reasons he was supposed to hate you. The team loved you, how could they have not? You radiated an energy Scout had only attempted to project his entire life. Maybe that's why. Maybe it was jealousy, how you managed to embody everything he wanted to be and more. But he couldn't really hate you, not in the traditional sense. You were still the last thought going through his head every night, the first person he wanted to see every morning, the person he assigned to the pillow he would squeeze to his chest late at night. He had even stolen one of your shirts to use as a pillowcase. Yeah, a better term for what he was would have been whipped.

It felt routine, waking up, walking into the kitchen, and seeing you and some other teammate laughing up a storm, getting closer, feeling his own presence in the structure of the team becoming increasingly irrelevant. If he wasn't the cocky asshole, who was he? This morning was different. He had awoken early, around 5am, as far as he could make out on the alarm clock next to his bed, anyway. He couldn't bother getting dressed, the only mercs who he knew that would be up wouldn't care, the last thing on his mind right now was you. His throat was phlegmy, a sour taste permeating his tongue, and all he wanted was to brush his teeth and drink a cool glass of water.

The stairs from the team barracks to the kitchen creaked under the weight of his footsteps, it's odd that he never noticed it before. He had become a lot more perceptive after meeting you. Turning into the kitchen/dining area, he spots you sitting on a barstool in front of the kitchen counter, mug in one hand and some random comic in the other. His face heats up, you turn and smile at him. A warm smile, the kind that makes every muscle in his body soften. The safe kind of smile that you wouldn't expect from someone so energetic and lively. "Morning," You spoke in a low tone. Scout was taken aback, sure, everyone was still asleep, but you were being so....so caring? And to him of all people? Weren't you supposed to dislike him as much as he disliked you?

You continued to stare, a slight nervousness in the way your eyes creased, your smile had began to falter. Something he had never seen from you before. Then he realized he had been staring at you, inner monologuing for far too long. "Oh, uh, g'mornin', sorry I didn't think anyone would be up this early...." He trailed off, trying to come up with some excuse as to why he was standing in the kitchen he had been dining in for years longer than the person in front of him. Your face softened at his answer, "Oh! It's fine.....I don't own the kitchen." You laughed on those last words, eyes resting back onto your comic. Scout felt the heat rush back into his face, yeah, this is why he didn't like you. You were quick tongued, always having some sort of smart assed response to him. It's clear why you and Spy got on well.

His face twisted into something between a frown and a scowl, you took no notice, sipping whatever liquid was in your mug. It smelt of coffee, and the deodorant you had been using since you begun working for mann co. He knew it was yours, the smell comforted him, if anything. The shirt he had stolen from your laundry basket in the downstairs washing room was beginning to lose that smell, and he had considered returning it for a while so that he could steal it back after a couple of wears. God, he was such a creep. "Are you going to continue standing there staring at me, or are you gonna grab something to eat?" You smirked to yourself, eyes flickering up at him before returning to your reading material.

"Fuck off." The words came to him before he could even think, he clasped a hand over his mouth in shock. You looked up. But you weren't upset, you seemed more amused if anything. "I beg your pardon?" A grin graced your features, Scout swallowed thickly, eyebrows furrowing, hands becoming clammy with the heat his body gave off. "Fuck...off..." Scout could barely get the words out. He was nervous, if you were as chill as you presented yourself then surely you wouldn't really care, that you'd just laugh him off and return to your book. But you didn't. You continued to stare, eyes boring into his skull, grin growing wider. "I like you, Jeremy." You spoke sweetly, not a trace of anger in your words.

A week later he had continued thinking about that interaction. He avoided you like the plague, the only words spoken in your presence being on the battlefield. Surely, you couldn't have meant it like that. Surely, you had been teasing him, trying to make him uncomfortable, one of the other mercs must have tipped you off on his crush, despite the fact that no one actually knew. Until he woke up again, this time around 2am. Obviously, you wouldn't be awake. It was the middle of the night, and even if he did encounter you he could just ignore you. His bedroom felt far too warm, and his bedsheets felt far too heavy. He decided he needed to get up and grab a glass of water.

There you were, sitting in your usual bar stool, upper body draped over the counter, staring at the mug in front of you. You looked up tiredly, eyes resting on the boy, and giving him a weak smile. "Hey, stranger." He ignored you. Well, he tried to. He could feel your eyes on him as he grabbed the glass from the cabinet, and filling it with lukewarm tap water. "It feels waaaay too hot tonight, right? Like it's the middle of February, it should be way cooler than this," You mumbled he found himself agreeing with you. Wordlessly nodding his head, eyes glued to the linoleum flooring. "Are you mad at me?" You finally asked, cutting whatever tension he perceived to be between the two of you with a butchers knife.

"I dunno....I guess?" He felt annoyed, of course he was mad at you. Was his ignorance and one word responses not obvious to the fact? You looked....hurt. Something that made him feel sick. He didn't want to hurt you. "What did I do?" You were quick to the point. "Does it matter? Nothin's gonna change even if I do tell ya', and besides, you didn't seem to have a problem with me ignoring ya' before." The word vomit was rising in his chest, one backhanded or smartassed response from you and all of his feelings for you would spill out. That's not how he wanted to tell you, not like this, not when you're hurt. Not when he's upset. You must have gathered as much, because you stood up, the legs of the chair making a quiet scraping noise against the floor, and you walked out.

It wasn't until a month later when he met you in the kitchen again. You seemed off, still your usual smug self with the other mercs to a point, but when the topic of Scout would come, that confident demeanor would falter. He felt like he was the only person who noticed it. It was 4am, he had been waking up every other night in the hope that he would see you there. Tonight he got lucky, you were rummaging through the fridge, the light illuminated every inch of your skin. Scout went flush, obviously you hadn't expected anyone to visit the kitchen, that, or you weren't planning on staying in there for long. Your underwear looked good on you. "Oh- fuck! Scout, you scared the shit out of me!" You closed the fridge with a start, seeing the boy looming over you.

"Uh, sorry." He cursed himself for the lackluster response, and for scaring you. "Can...can we talk?" He felt awkward, talking was his strong suit in some ways, and his hubris in others. "Yeah, uh, just lemme pour us some water..." You looked away, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. Scout sat at the bar stool this time, twiddling his thumbs together in anticipation. You stood before him, sliding the glass across the counter towards him chastely. You didn't seem to care that he saw you like this, he supposed that it came with the personality. "Look, I'm sorry for bein' such a douchebag, I just...." He was looking for the words in your eyes, he could see something swelling in them. Love? Hopefully.

"I have a crush on you, dude." You spoke for him, looking down at your own cup. Your face was red, and with the way you started fidgeting with the hem of your underwear, it was clear you had begun to feel insecure. Scout knew the feeling, but this being the third time you had seen him topless, with only his socks and boxers on, he didn't really mind. "Yeah." He managed to breathe out, setting the glass down on the table and resting his hand on his chin, hand covering his mouth. He stared at something, anything other than you. "I've liked you for a while....I just- I know you feel....threatened? by me. It isn't a nice feeling. I can't control my personality....I just..I saw you and I thought that maybe we were the same? And when you started to ignore me...I dunno. It felt like that small confession I made just...made shit awkward."

Jeremy couldn't help but grin. Here you were, the ever confident y/n, wearing your heart on your sleeve for him. You knew how he had felt, he didn't even have to tell you. You just knew. He felt like an ass, but the slight power trip he had knowing that he made you feel just as nervous as you did to him....it was relieving in a way. You looked at him, grin coming to your face in turn. "God, I feel kinda stupid now." You laughed lightly. Scout's heart felt like it was going to explode. "We should make out." It didn't mean to come out like that, but you weren't deterred. He leant over the table, disregarding the empty glasses and pulling you in.

You felt soft, your lips tasting like whatever lip balm you had been using, the smell of your deodorant overpowering his senses. He tugged lightly on your hair with his right hand, his left grasping at the back of your neck in a desperate way to keep you close. Your hands wrapped around his neck, fingers digging into the soft flesh, feverishly you moved your lips against his. It felt like a dream to Scout, the way he had finally gotten you here, now. "D'you...wanna......date....." He managed to get out between kisses. You pulled away, eyes heavy, face red and messy. "Yes." And you pulled him in again.

[immeasurablesaladagere]

Can we get a fic about Wilson&House finding out Chase regresses please 🙏🙏🙏

Fun fact! I already had a prompt similar to this sitting in my notes app before I ever made this blog, so I decided to work on that! It just includes cg!House, I hope that's alright. House would have a very... ahem, interesting first-time-cg style.

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Word Count: 1230

Summery: House can tell that something is up with Chase on an overnight shift.

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Something was wrong with Chase.

House stared at him through the glass of his office, watching him go back and fourth between flipping through the patient’s files and a newspaper crossword. At least, that was what he was pretending to do. Chase’s eyes were obviously unfocused and staring directly through the papers, and it looked more like he was moving them around on autopilot to seem busy in front of his boss who he knew would be spying on him through the window. A smart move to be sure, but ultimately a pointless one. 

Chase picked up his pen and hovered it over the newspaper like he was going to write in an answer, then stopped and put the end of the pen in his mouthfor the dozenth time.

House wrinkled his nose in disgust. He was never using that pen again. It was definitely covered in bite marks and saliva, and while there was probably a large clientele who would pay too much for pretty-boy’s spit, he wasn’t one of them. If it wasn’t the pen, then it was biting the top half of his thumb or pointer finger, before he would get a look on his face and switch back to the pen or the cuff of his coat sleeve.

Then there was the fidgeting. For the most part, Chase matched the expected appearance of a man who had been awake for twenty-four hours on an overnight patient watch; sunken eyes, painfully-bored expression, slumped posture, and a general air of ‘I’d rather be having steamy sex with a hooker right now’— or maybe that was just him— but Chase was fidgeting almost constantly. It consisted mostly of swinging his feet back and fourth under the glass table or mindlessly shaking his free hand up and down. When he was particularly lost in thought, he would begin rocking in place to entertain himself. 

It was when the thought crossed House’s mind that Chase looked more like a little kid waiting for their parent to finish up at the DMV than a doctor trying to stay awake that he began to think that Chase was more than just tired. 

Age regression was a zebra, but Cuddy hadn’t given him his own team and office because he was an expert at finding horses. 

He watched as Chase yawned and rubbed his eyes, then rested his head on his hand and slipped his entire thumb in his mouth. If it wasn’t regression, then House got an embarrassing habit to hold over his head for the rest of time.

It was probably best to test his hypothesis before they were called to deal with the patient and Chase’s toddler brain accidentally killed her. He turned to his laptop and typed ‘colouring pages’ into Google, then printed the first result; an ocean floor scene with corny cartoon dolphins and fish.

At the sound of the printer starting in the office, Chase seemed to snap back into some kind of focus and pulled his thumb from his mouth, hastily tucking it against his cheek. 

When House walked in, Chase pushed away his file and cleared his throat. “Did you find something for the patient? I can’t think of anything.” 

“Forget the patient, I have a much more important question.” He set down the colouring page in front of Chase, “How do you feel… about sea creatures?”

He watched as Chase’s eyes went wide for a split second before he schooled his face into confusion. “What’s this?”

“Sea creatures.” He tapped the cartoon dolphin’s face, “See?”

“Yeah, uh… Why?”

“You tell me. Why would I, as your boss, distract you from a case with a children’s colouring page?”

Chase shrugged, looking anywhere but directly at the picture. “I ‘dunno…”

“Sure you do.” House nudged at the pen on the table. The plastic end was completely mangled by teeth marks, and it left behind a small trail of spit as it rolled. “And the sleeve, and the thumb, and the fidgeting like a four-year-old.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, House—“

“Tell me the truth, or you’re fired.”

Chase looked up at him in disbelief. “W-What?”

“You’re showing signs of an altered mental state. What if you were drunk? Or on drugs?” House wondered aloud, “The hospital wouldn’t take kindly to that, and what would that say about me? I can’t have a drugged-out doctor on my team—“

“I’m not on drugs! Or drinking!” 

“Then what?“

“It’s age regression, okay?” Chase blurted, “It’s this thing I do, I-I was thinking like a kid and it’s not like— why am I explaining it? You already knew, I’m just— I was tired and we weren’t getting anywhere with the case, s-so…”

House smirked with vindication. “So you figured it was fine if your adult brain took a vacation for a few hours, right? The patient’s not important, I get it.”

Chase buried his face in his hands. The tips of his ears were bright red with shame. “Please don’t fire me. I swear, it was a one-time thing, I’m not— I can control it, I—“

He hummed and tapped his fingers against his cane in dramatic thought. “I don’t know… I’m pretty sure you need to be at least eighteen to be a doctor, and you’re, what? Five? Cuddy wouldn’t appreciate the liability, and I don’t know if I can trust you to be a big boy if you can’t handle a—.”

Chase sniffled. Ah, crap.

“M’sorry,” He mumbled and stood up quickly to leave, but House grabbed him by the arm before he could run away and lightly pushed him back down into the chair.

“Sit down, relax.” He wanted to mess with the kid, not make him cry. “I’m not going to fire you.”

Chase looked up at him, eyes round and wet like a sad puppy. House grimaced. “But you said…”

“It was a joke. I was just messing with you.” He didn’t look convinced. On one hand, House was happy that his theory was correct. On the other, now he was stuck babysitting his employee who he’d inadvertently worked up into a panic. Why couldn’t kids ever understand sarcasm?

“Oh…” Chase shrunk in on himself and fiddled with the end of his tie. “…Sorry.”

“It’s fine, kid.” He sighed. “How young am I dealing with here?” If he was babysitting, he at least wanted to know what he was getting into.

Chase stared at him owlishly like he was afraid to answer, and his face flushed pink as he answered, “Six..?”

“So I was close! Look at me go. Listen, we’re going to talk about this later, but you’re not fired, got it?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh, and you’re off the case until you’re an adult again. If you get paged, I’ll go. I was serious about the liability, Cuddy’ll be up my ass if I let a toddler perform CPR.”

Chase frowned indignantly. “That’s not a nice word. An’ I’m not a toddler.”

Oh good, the language police. “You’re close enough.” He turned to grab the cup of pens on a nearby counter and set it down next to the colouring page. “Here. Not much for colours, but it’ll do.”

Chase looked between him and the pens a few times before hesitantly picking up a red one and beginning to fill in the crab.

“Oh, and no eating them. Those are my good pens.”

[purplekissinger]

The Cat That Looked at a King

The first magical war. Animagus Y/N spies on the Dark Lord. When she is caught, Voldemort decides against killing her.

Lord, what you're doing to me?

tw: psychological manipulation, crucio x 999, hurthurthurt/questionable comfort

‘Lumos’.

The weak light made you close your eyes, as if it was a spotlight. You tried to get up, but your aching head was pulled down, back to sweet unconsciousness. Dolohov looked at you with disgust, and for a moment it seemed to you as if he would slam the door and leave you in the blissful darkness, but this hope has fast  evaporated. He stepped forwards and forced you to your feet.

‘Did you sleep well?’, he said. Every sound caused a painful shiver through your body. ‘You made Mulciber work pretty hard yesterday. I believe your memory has returned, eh?’.

You were silent. You were still getting used to the idea that your life was over, and that the remaining days or even hours of it would be spent in a nice company of Death Eaters. You had no time for retaliatory witticisms, and indeed no time for answers at all.

“Not the talkative type, are we?” Dolokhov was not even offended. “Well, suit yourself. Hope you haven't forgotten how to walk?..”

You nodded slowly and sank back to the floor, into the darkness, into the silence, into the calmness, and neither Crucio nor Avada Kedavra could stop you from that.

***

The summer of 1978 was probably the happiest summer of your life. Hogwarts was over, Aurorial Appraisal hadn't started yet, and between this and that James and Sirius decided to throw the Very Last Party on the coast: picnic, dancing, everything is top-notch, for Marauders and their girls only. You were a little bit of both, and you were invited even before Lily.

How you crammed into the unfortunate, well-worn Ford Anglia, wheeled by James, was a whole  different story. Marlene McKinnon climbed onto Sirius's lap, Remus pressed himself against the door and rode like that the whole way. As for poor Peter, at first they wanted to push him into the trunk until he got the idea to transform into a rat and save space.

‘Oh!’ you exclaimed. ‘I’d do that too, otherwise Lily and Mary are not going.”

‘Just don’t eat Peter on the way!’ Sirius chuckled. It was an old joke that everyone got tired of back in fifth year, and no one laughed, so you just shrugged your shoulders and turned into a shaggy calico cat. Lily picked you up in her arms, and the race began.

‘Slow down, James, for Merlin’s sake!’ Mary Macdonald screamed, clutching the back of the seat. ‘You don’t even have a license, and we still want to get there alive!’ but he just laughed and entered every turn at such speed that made you meow pitifully. He couldn’t care less about the car that he got after his parents passed away, and he did not believe in his own death.

And then!.. And then you pitched the tent, jumped into the still cool water from the tower, then Remus took the gramophone out of the trunk and played “Somebody to love,” which everyone knew by heart, and when it became completely dark, you sat by the fire and roasted marshmallows . Lily rested her head on James' shoulder, the firelight playing on her hair. In the darkness, Peter timidly touched your hand, and you didn’t twitch, you didn’t even laugh.

‘We are all joining the Order, I presume?’ Sirius suddenly asked, biting a blade of grass. Marlene and Mary shushed him, but James snorted and waved his hand carelessly.

‘Come on, that’s no secret... Besides,  you are either in Voldemort's team or playing against him nowdays, no ifs or buts. And how else can you be against him, if not joining the Order?’

‘But there’s no need to shout about it, you know’,  Remus noted.

‘Who is shouting, though?’ Sirius seemed surprised. ‘Just saying. And there are no random people here, so?’.

‘Peter and I should be spies,” you said. ‘We both have the makings of a spy, like, no doubt. Sorry to tell you, James, but you’re out of luck with this one. Your animagus form is only good for an assault’.

James threw a marshmallow at you.

***

A lamp was on the table, an ordinary Muggle one, the kind of lamp you usually see in a library. The light was somehow cozy, and you stared at it mindlessly, trying to either forget yourself or gather your thoughts. Neither this nor that worked out. The room was tiny, with a high ceiling, no windows, and you couldn’t tell whether it was night or day, or which day even. Mulciber was making you wait. You probably really tired him out yesterday.

“I’m going to die here,” you thought dully. “That's it.  My number’s up. I’m not getting out of here alive. Nobody is to the rescue. Mulciber will go on and on until I die or break, and if I break, he will listen carefully to everything I can tell and then finish me off anyway. Merlin, oh Lord, oh dear Lord, oh God, oh Lord, oh dear God?!..”.

The latch creaked outside, and you  straightened yourself involuntarily, trying your best not to look at the door. The door slid aside and he entered the room.

For the first time in your life, you heard your heart beating.

“Good evening, Y/N,” Voldemort said in a casual and even somewhat disinterested tone, but the mere sound of this voice made you want to stop breathing, and you even tried to do so. ‘How are you feeling, how was your sleep?’

“It was fine,” you said, barely moving your lips. Your tongue seemed frozen. The lamp hit your eyes, and his face was hidden from you in the shadows; you only had enough strength to look at his hand.  Strangely beautiful, with thin pale fingers, it was lying relaxed on the table.

“It was fine, my lord,” he corrected you.

“What?..”

“Crucio”.

Next frame: for some reason the legs of the table, ah yes, a spasm threw you out of the chair, and now you were silently writhing, scratching your nails on the plank floor. This went on for millions of years. When the pain subsided, leaving a ringing emptiness, he said peacefully:

“Get up, please”.

You obeyed.

“Sit down”.

You did.

“You and Mulciber didn’t get along, and I can’t blame him for that, you’re very stubborn. But maybe you’ll make an exception for me, huh, Y/N?’

‘Oh God oh God oh God oh God oh dear Lord oh my God’

“I already told you everything,” you sobbed. Merlin, you've never been particularly brave. Cheerful, yes, loved by everyone, yes, loving,  yes, but not brave.

“First, you didn’t tell anything, at least not what I needed to know. Second, Crucio”.

This time you rose as slowly as if your bones were made of glass (and it felt like they were), but Voldemort waited patiently.

“I want to believe that you learned at least one lesson,” he said boredly. The lamp was now shining so that you could see his face very well.

“Yes, my lord,” you said drearly.

***

The autumn of 1978 was harder for you.

Back then it seemed that the most difficult thing was to become an Auror, and then everything would go like clockwork. A dream job, friends, fun, you’ll stick it to Voldemort in no time, and all your youth is waiting, and the war will end soon. The real-life reconnaissance turned out to be both more terrifying and much more boring than the fantasies.

In November, Lily and James threw a housewarming party in Godric's Hollow, this time only for Sirius, Remus, you and Peter. It was somehow quieter and more modest, but still very nice, and you brought pumpkin pie, although Halloween had already passed. You left early that day, because an operation was to be set tomorrow (nothing too serious, breaking into the house of one of the outer circle and casting some good ol’ wiretap spells). You desperately needed to get some sleep. Peter wanted to take you out, but you laughed it off. You didn’t want to see anyone, you wanted to cover yourself with a blanket and lie down, and never move again.

Of course you learnt to treat it as a job, otherwise you would go insane, and that’s when boredom set in. Probably, you reasoned, it’s one of two. It’s either you become a bundle of exposed nerves, choking with fear every time you are almost spotted, or you yawn (or meow) boredly, memorizing the names of the agents on the other side. You chose the latter.

Things were no better at Order meetings.

“Our poor Cookie looks a little down,” Marlene said sympathetically when, after discussing tomorrow’s plan, she had a free minute. “Cookie” was your call sign, assigned for the spottedness of your animagus form. ‘Did you quarrel with Peter?..’

“We didn’t really make peace in the first place,” you answered sharply. Then you said, tone softened: “Sorry, Marlin. Too much stuff on my plate’.

‘Well, feel free to take comfort in the fact that you are not alone in this!��� she winked at you cheerfully and climbed up onto the chair, her feet on the table.

But it felt like you were alone in this. There were a few targets that you kept an eye on, but it still was tough, too much information, too much responsibility, and doing all the tasks with a cat’s brain was oh so difficult. You were exhausted, staggering back and forth on the roof in the rain, pretending to be a stray kitty, and if anyone wanted to check you for traces of magic, you would instantly lose your disguise and then your life.

The first big success happened only at Christmas, as a gift, perhaps. You've began to close on Nott.

* * *

‘I was turning into a cat. Spied on Nott and Avery, no one else. I only kept in touch with Dumbledore,” you said in a whisper. “My lord, I don’t know what else to say. I really don't’.

He didn’t record your words the way Mulciber did (apparently, he wrote down your indistinct cries just in case). He just looked at you, tilting his head.

“That is, I have to believe that you were so special that Dumbledore made separate projects for you only and did not allow you to contact the rest of the group,” Voldemort nodded. “Seems like we have a top dog here. More precisely, a cat’.

‘My lord, I don’t know anything else!..’

‘You're lying’.

* * *

And from that day you started to close onto the Headquarters, slowly, very, very slowly and painstakingly. It was like you were unraveling a ball of yarn.

This ball could catch fire at any moment; any hurry could’ve become a deadly mistake. Losing one of the Order’s members wasn’t even the biggest problem, that’s what they are for, after all, but in January 1979, you and Dumbledore had a short conversation in a muggle coffee shop. He let you know that you had gotten ahead and were now getting closer to the inner circle, closer than anyone else. You couldn't lose at this point, there's more at stake than just your life.

You left the coffee shop in a strangely high spirits. You're finally starting to like your job.

Peter came to see you again on Valentine’s Day with a bouquet of conjured forget-me-nots, but you politely and carefully sent him - no, not to Mordred, to the Order headquarters, so he could finally get down to business. Spring was coming, and you wanted to stretch out like a cat before a hard day, work out all the leads and then kick Voldemort’s ass at last.

* * *

Of course, you didn’t fill him in on this detail.

The interrogation lasted only an hour or two, and you no longer knew where to look so as not to see his face: in the corner, at the lamp, at your feet, in the corner, at the lamp, at your feet, at the lamp, repeat. You wished to go blind, you wished to go deaf, you wished you could die. You wondered if he really had nothing else to do. Why is he clinging to you so much, is he teaching Mulciber a lesson or what?..

“I could help you with that, you know,” Voldemort said thoughtfully, playing with his wand. ‘ I could tell you what we already know about you, so that you don't have to lie. Not so obviously, at least. Would you like that, kitty?

‘I’d like that, my lord’.

You no longer understood what you were saying, you just knew that you had to agree with everything.

“We spotted you back in the summer.”

But isn’t it October now?!..

* * *

‘What will you give Harry for his birthday?’ Marlene asked, leafing through the “Prophet”. On the front page there was a column about yesterday's terrorist attack. Marlene's boots were resting on the coffee table again, and you pushed them off with a sharp movement. When will she learn to sit normally?!

‘A key to Voldemort's Headquarters’.

This was almost true, because now you knew its location down to the block, and it was a matter of time to get inside. When this finally happened, you were struck how ordinary it felt. There were no dungeons, no gargoyles at the entrance, no skulls on the walls. What you’ve found inside was furnished as in one of the most ordinary muggle offices, and everyone behaved like the most ordinary clerks, scurrying back and forth, cursing at each other, drinking coffee.

There were so many illusion spells on you that you feared they might start to conflict with each other. “I’m in the heart of the enemy,” you whispered to yourself as your own heart beat feverishly. How come they can’t hear this throughout the ventilation? “I am in the heart of the enemy, I am in the heart of the enemy. You’re all going down, bitches.” But it was still far from that. First of all, you had to build a floor plan, and slowly, inch by inch, you did it.

“Well done, Y/N. Smart kitty. Ten points to Catffindor,” you said to yourself in Dumbledore’s voice when you found out the date of the first major meeting.

* * *

“I still remember that thrilling moment,” Voldemort said mockingly, leaning back in his chair. “At first I thought there might be rats in the ventilation. Then I caught the eye of this one rat through the bars, and everything fell into place’.

You remembered this thrilling moment too, oh Merlin, you remembered it.

‘I gave the go-ahead to Avery, he began to dig into you. Since that day you have not taken a single independent step’.

The room floated before your eyes.

* * *

This probably explained the attacks of painful paranoia that began to torture you in August. Sometimes you woke up screaming, either at Order’s headquarters or at a safe house (you hadn’t been at home since July, and Peter didn’t know where to look for you), sometimes you walked along the Diagon Alley and turned into an side street, looking at a shop window for a minute or two, hoping to see something in the reflection, sometimes you would leave your unfinished coffee and rush out of the cafe because the man in the corner had his eyes on you. You became nervous, and, alas, in your job this meant professional incompetence.

“Our Cookie is completely depressed now,” Marlene told you as you left Dumbledore’s office. As gently as he could he suggested that you hand over matters to Sirius or Peter, then he said that this was not an offer and that you needed to start tying up the threads. Dumbledore probably suspected something.

In August, you went on yet another picnic. Without Lily and James, who could not leave the house anymore, everything was just not the same. Remus showed card tricks, and Sirius got drunk on firewhiskey and sang ABBA songs the whole night. You needed to talk to Peter in private because the project was supposed to be handed over to him, but you couldn’t make yourself talk about the job, and you didn’t want to spoil the last day off. You two sat on the cliff, watching the setting sun sink into the water, dangling your legs, throwing shells down and remembering Hogwarts. Peter didn’t seem to hold a grudge against you at all...

“Stop thinking about that rat,” said Sirius.

You turned to him and saw Voldemort's face.

“I’ve been looking through your memories for three hours now, trying to snag at least a grain of useful information, and you’re wasting my time on Pettigrew. You really don't want to cooperate, do you?

The setting sun turned into a lamp.

* * *

Not even Cruciatus curse made you scream this much.

Voldemort winced, rose from his seat like a huge black shadow, approached you (Merlin, let me die, let me die) and took you by the chin. His cold fingers made you fall silent obediently. After a short pause, he said softly:

“Let’s think about it together, Y/N, since you can’t do this by yourself. You already know that I could have killed you six months ago, that the information you conveyed to Dumbledore was fake, that your greatest achievement at the moment is to look at me. Thoughts?’

Well, here comes Avada, you thought happily. Is it over yet? He mocked you enough and now you can die? You did pretty well, come to think of it... Occlumency failed you, but he never pulled out any specifics…

“A cat may look at the king,” you said, relieved and ready to die. You seemed to be smiling.

He studied your face for a full second, and then instead of merciful death or even pain, your brain just turned inside out.

* * *

You are sitting by the fire. Lily laughs and taps out the rhythm of the song on James' knee.

“each morning I get up I die a little can barely stand on my feet”

Focus.

Peter with a bouquet of forget-me-nots tries to squeeze through the door.

How much longer do I have to look at this?

“i spent all my years in believing you”

Party at Hogsmeade. Sirius dances on the Ford’s roof. Quidditch match, snitch in the sun rays. Knockturn Alley massacre, Marlene is dead. Ford comes into the turn,  Marlin is alive, she is yelling at James. Harry on a toy broom, laughing. Explosion at Mungo's, nurse sobbing. Knife plunges into the pumpkin pie.

So much garbage. So much unnecessary rubbish you keep in your head, dear Y/N.

“i just gotta get out of this prison cell someday i’m gonna be free Lord��

You look at Voldemort from the vents, he looks at you. Headquarters layout. Nott's window. Marlene's boots on the coffee table. Order’s headquarters layout. James throws a marshmallow at you. “Calico cats bring good luck,” Remus says seriously. “You will be our mascot.” The entire Order wishes you a happy birthday, you blow out the candles on the cake, but they just don’t go out.

‘somebody somebody somebody somebody somebody’

That’s more like it.

‘somebody to’

The setting sun falls into the water as the world plunges into darkness.

* * *

You're lying on the floor. You can't even remember your own name.

“It’s Y/N,” Voldemort prompts. He sits next to you and holds your hand, touches your fingers, strokes your wrist, and it’s so bizarre, strange and wrong that it can’t even be a dream. ‘Believe me, it can. But I would like you to gain the gift of speech and not force me to read your thoughts’.

“Yes, my lord,” you say slurredly.

‘Splendid. So, we concluded that any information you can give to me is useless, that you don’t like to cooperate and that you’re definitely not the brightest one. Of course, it would be easier and cheaper to kill you, but I decided against it. Why do you think I did that?’

‘I don't know, my lord’.

‘I’m going to break you’.

‘What?’

No Crucio this time. He just gives you a long appraising look. Works like a charm, just for one indulgence you already feel grateful and almost happy.

“We’ll take on you, sweet Y/N. In the Order, you had no one to look after you, and still, having no techniques, only raw talent, you plunged into the thick of it and even achieved something, and all it took was one word from Dumbledore. You managed to look at the king. Well, he looked back at you and decided that he needed a calico cat. As a mascot’.

“I'm going crazy,” you think. “The Cruciatus curse can do that.”

‘Why not? I think I can afford it, can’t I?’

“Yes, my lord,” you answer indifferently. Let the nightmare continue, it doesn't matter anymore.

“The old man kept trying to awaken mercy in me... Well, it seems like he had achieved his goal by throwing a kitten at Headquarters. I didn’t even expect such stupidity from him’.

Ceiling. You look at the ceiling,  counting the cracks.

“I’ll break you into pieces,” he says, and for the first time in that voice, the voice that was so cold and unforgiving at meetings, so paralyzing, slips something that sounds almost like... concern? Tenderness?.. ‘I’ll take you apart and put you back together again. And the new you will serve me. I expect nothing but undying devotion. Is that clear?’

All right, absolutely nothing is wrong. It couldn't be more normal. The Dark Lord decided to make you the mascot of his team, this happens all the time.

“Don’t be afraid to be broken, Y/N,” Voldemort says almost tenderly, touching your cheek, slowly lowering his fingers to your neck. ‘For it is the first step towards becoming perfect. I wasn’t afraid of this in my time,” he smiled sadly. His smile is almost human. “Maybe I’ll even tell you about this someday, Cookie.”