#keep encryption alive

[rorygilmoresbisexuallighting]

Anti-Censorship warriors rise up!!! Another bad bill to take down!!!

UPDATE ON THE TAKEDOWN ACT

I have been informed that the House is going to have a committee hearing (energy and commerce committee) on the Take It Down Act. This is a bill that Trump has pushed hard to get passed so that he can abuse it and use it to take down social media posts criticizing him. Its another mass censorship tool disguised as "protecting kids".

Fight for the Future has provided both an explanation for why this bill is extremely dangerous, as well as a call script and direct link to your lawmakers! They couldnt make it easier. Its here:

Here is a link to the committee members. It is a full committee hearing.

This is the number for energy and commerce (202) 225-3641 please call their secretary and tell them to spread the message to say no if your rep isn’t on the committee

If you’re not American tell your American friends to call that number

[daxisyzz]

Double-Edged

This is part 2 of Close encounters

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: On an undercover mission, you and Bucky pose as a married couple to infiltrate an illegal weapons auction—but when a stolen kiss becomes part of the plan, the line between duty and desire starts to blur.

Word count: 847

Read part 1 for more context.

The safe house was quiet—too quiet.

You leaned against the desk, pretending to focus on backing up the drive, the screen’s soft glow flickering over your face. But your mind wasn’t on encrypted files or aliases. It was on him.

The kiss.

The way Bucky had grabbed you like it meant something. The way your heart had stuttered, knees weakening under the press of his lips. You’d told yourself it was for the mission—just a cover. A performance. But your pulse was still racing hours later, and no damn performance ever made your skin feel like it was burning alive.

Bucky was in the other room now, shedding his gear with infuriating calm. You could hear the metallic clicks of his knife being dismantled, the soft hum he made under his breath like he had all the time in the world. Every now and then, your gaze flicked to the doorway. You hated that your eyes kept seeking him out. Hated it more when he caught you looking—and smirked.

He strolled into the room, throwing a protein bar at you like it was a bouquet of roses.

“Dinner of champions,” he said with an infuriating amount of smug.

You caught it without looking. “Wow. A gentleman and a flirt. Be still my heart.”

“Careful,” he said, plopping down onto the couch across from you. “Wouldn’t want you falling too hard.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve tripped over flat surfaces more romantically.”

He chuckled, eyes glinting. “That why you grabbed my lapels like a woman possessed?”

“I was playing the part.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Sure didn’t feel like acting.”

You froze, heat creeping up your neck. “Don’t flatter yourself, Barnes.”

His smirk deepened. “Oh, I’m not the one replaying it in my head on a loop.”

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me?!”

“You’ve been twitchy all night. Can’t even look at me without blushing. Kinda cute, actually.”

“Cute?” you echoed, incredulous. “You think mocking me is flirting?”

He stood and crossed the room slowly, with that same predatory grace he always moved with. “No. This is flirting.”

His hand brushed your waist as he reached past you for the backup drive, intentionally too close, his breath warm near your ear.

Your body betrayed you with a shiver. You hated how smug he looked when he noticed.

You shoved him back half-heartedly. “Back off, Barnes.”

He grinned. “What if I don’t want to?”

You glared, crossing your arms. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I told you,” he said, voice low. “You ever stop pretending you didn’t like that kiss?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He took a step closer, testing.

“No guards,” he said softly. “No crowd. No danger. No excuses. So if I kissed you right now, would you stop me?”

Your heart thundered in your chest.

You tilted your chin up. “Maybe I would.”

“Maybe,” he echoed, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the touch maddeningly soft. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“I’m not here to be convincing. I’m here to finish the mission and survive a night in this glorified broom closet with your arrogant ass.”

His eyes lit with amusement. “You sure? Because you’re looking at me like I’m the mission.”

You stepped closer, nose nearly brushing his. “If you’re the mission, Barnes, I’m about to fail spectacularly.”

That made him pause, just for a second. Then his hand found your hip, fingers curling in a way that made your breath catch.

“You gonna kiss me again, or are we just gonna keep playing chicken?” you asked, defiant but breathless.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he said, voice rough. “But you look like you’re about to combust.”

You didn’t answer with words. You kissed him.

Hard.

His hand shot to the back of your neck, pulling you in like he’d been dying for it. Your fingers clutched at his shirt, dragging him closer. It was messy and heated and nothing like the last one.

This one was real.

When you finally pulled away, lips tingling, you didn’t back down. “Still think I’m blushing because I’m embarrassed?”

He grinned, eyes heavy-lidded. “Nah. Now I think you’re blushing ‘cause you like the way I taste.”

You smacked his chest and spun away, flustered.

“God, you’re insufferable.”

“Yeah?” he called after you, clearly pleased. “You gonna tell me to sleep on the floor, sweetheart?”

“Damn right.”

“Fine. But you better hope I don’t get cold,” he teased. “I do tend to cuddle in my sleep.”

“You cuddle and I’m putting you through a wall.”

He laughed as he settled back onto the couch, arms behind his head like he’d already won something. “Noted. But I snore too, so really, you’re getting the full experience.”

You didn’t respond. You were too busy staring at the ceiling, heart racing, wondering how the hell you’d gone from tolerating him to kissing him like oxygen depended on it.

One thing was clear—this wasn’t part of the mission anymore.

And Bucky Barnes? He was going to be the death of you.

A/n: sorry for getting this put late I had actually not planned on writing a part two but @maryevm inspired me to.

[revelboo]

Can we get another part for my oh-so-terrible boy, TFA Shockwave?

Sure! He’s playing games

Safe In The Dark Pt 4

TFA Shockwave x Reader

• Venting, single optic focused on the scrolling glyphs, carefully unraveling encrypted Autobot high command communications, he’s aware of you behind him making noises as you eat your dry, organic food bits. Servos flexing against the side of his desk, he catches a glimpse of his reflection on the datapad by his arm and he rumbles staring at himself. It’s a shame really. After spending so much time crafting Longarm to not be able to use him. Weaving together a life for the fake Autobot, family, and friends. It had been almost euphoric, outsmarting Autobots, showing them one face while he’d plotted. He’d been useful on Cybertron, but here? His skills are wasted. Misses the danger, the subterfuge. Needs that thrill of spinning lies, of getting away with it, of winning trust only to betray it. And his head turns to stare at you.

• Fine hair at your nape prickling, you know he’s staring at you. Can feel it. And your every instinct is screaming that you’re in danger as your heart goes racing. If you don’t acknowledge him, he might get bored and go back to whatever he’s doing. Leave you alone. He’d left you trapped on his desk and returned with your current prison. A lidless metal box as big as your living room at home with a hard metal slab to sleep on, something sort of like a toilet if it was designed by creatures that don’t actually use toilets, and a shower head that seems to only have access to cold water. Wilting as he stands and looms over your prison, his shadow falling across you, your breath catches. “Did you know that your kind vaporize in a surprisingly fine, red mist? It’s lovely, actually,” he says and you shudder. “Tastes like metal.”

• Venting as your scent shifts with the acrid bite of fear, he crouches and lays his arm along the top of your prison, head tipping as he reaches for you with a clawed servo. Watching you flinch away, your breath coming in quick little gasps as he lifts your arm to study your little hand. “Can you grow back extremities that are cleanly severed?” He asks and you yank your hand away, shoulder and hip smacking the wall of your prison when you throw yourself as far from him as you can get. A little more maybe or is that enough?

• Shuddering as his head tilts the other way, that demonic optic staring. Feel like you’re having a panic attack as you wedge yourself into the corner, unable to breathe except in quick little gasps. He’d promised he’d keep you alive. Said you were safe if you cooperated, but you hadn’t asked what he considered safe. Don’t understand the way he thinks or what’s going through his creepy head. “Humans don’t work that way,” you manage, legs drawn up to your chest, hands tucked against yourself. “You can’t remove bits of me,” you add, voice rising hysterically.

• “Actually, I can do whatever I please with you. I only need you alive and semi functional,” he says, reaching to stroke your soft hair as you shudder and lean away. “So, I would be an obedient, little pet.” Is that enough? Do you despise him? Fear him? He could break a few of your little bones to be sure, but he only runs the clawed tip of his servo against your cheek before standing. “You’ll greet me from now on and smile.”

• Shuddering as you curl into yourself in the corner, you hear him leave, turning off the lights to leave you in the cold and dark while you try to get yourself under control. To not panic. Looking up at the steep walls of your cell, your hands tremble. You have to get away from him before he dissects you out of boredom. Climbing up on the metal berth, you jump and try to reach the side high above you, heart racing. And you scream in frustration, eyes burning when you can’t. Hear a soft scuff of metal on metal and you go still. Is he back? Did he see that? Wrapping your arms around yourself as you catch a faint, blue glow, your trembling gets harder until it’s rattling your teeth. Sinking down on your knees, you listen to the heavy sound of peds moving about Shockwave’s habsuite. And the glow brightens, Shockwave’s console coming up. Part of you wants to stand on your berth to try and see who’s in here with you, the rest of you terrified they might be worse. Breath catching as the intruder comes into view and stops short, mouth opening as he stares at you, blue optics widening. “Oh, no,” he whispers, sounding as horrified as you feel.

Previous

[springtyme]

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 ♡

Simon Riley x afab!reader || Masterlist || Ghost playlist

summary: You’re up late at night, alone and touch starved, when you get a phone call from the man you miss the most.

word count: 3.3k

warning/tag: Smut (18+, mdni!) Language. Fluff and a little angst. Mutual masturbation (phone sex). Reader is wearing one of Simon's shirts. Mention of cunnilingus, tit sucking, unprotected p in v with creampie, implied breeding kink on Simon’s side. Use of ‘good girl’.

"Girl, you know I miss you, I just wanna kiss you But I can't right now So baby kiss me through the phone”

Simon is away again and holy fuck how you miss him. Every moment feels incomplete without him by your side. The distance between you seems unbearable at times, and the ache in your heart grows with each passing day.

As you are lying in bed, wearing his t-shirt, thoughts of him consume your mind. The soft fabric against your skin carries his scent, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. You imagine his smile, a smile so few people get to witness, but you are one of the few lucky ones who he let see it, you imagine his laughter. The warmth and security you feel whenever he holds you tight in his strong arms. As you replay cherished memories in your head, the longing intensifies, turning into a thumping pain in your chest, but it also brings you a sense of cathartic comfort.

If you just could call him it’ll be easier, but you can’t, you understand the need for secrecy and the importance of protecting his mission. You just have to be patient and wait till he can call you.

Now every time you hear a phone ring, your heart skips a beat. When it’s your own phone you find yourself hoping that it’s Simon on the other end, ready to reassure you that he is alright and that your fears are unfounded. But at the same time, there’s always a tinge of fear, a nagging worry that the call might bring news that your worst nightmare has come true.

And, as if on cue, as you lay and think about these things, the sound of your phone breaks through the silence, causing your heart to skip a beat. 

Your heart races, and you can’t help but wonder if it could be Simon. With trembling hands, you reach for the device, hoping beyond hope that it’s him. You glance at the screen and can’t see any number, it is an encrypted line, and a surge of emotions overwhelms you.

Heart pounding with a mix of anticipation, excitement and fear, you answer the call. “Hello?”

“Hi, love,” Simon’s gruff voice comes through the phone. He sounds knackered, but definitely alive. His voice crackles through the line, but the sound of it instantly soothes your worries. 

Relief floods over you, and tears well up in your eyes. “Hi, Si,” you greet him, trying to keep your emotions somewhat in check so you don’t use the precious time you get to talk to him bawling your eyes out. 

“I didn’t wake you did I?” His deep voice, laced with concern. 

“No, you didn’t,” you reassure him, not that you would have given a damn if he had, you’re just happy to hear his voice, alive and well.

“Well, you should be sleeping, I hope you’re taking care of yourself, love,” Simon says, his voice filled with genuine concern. “How have you been holding up?”

A mix of emotions floods over you at his question. You appreciate his thoughtfulness, knowing that despite the dangers he faces, he still worries about your well-being. But at the same time, you don’t want to burden him with your own struggles and fears.

“Well, you know me, I’ve been managing,” you reply, trying to sound strong. Afterall, he is the one who is facing danger and dodging bullets, not you. “Just looking forward to having you back.” 

Simon laughs softly, his deep voice filled with warmth. “I look forward to that too, love. But I promise, I’ll be back before you know it. We’ll have a proper cuppa together in no time, I’ll make sure we don’t have to deal with any of this long-distance rubbish for a while.” 

You can’t help but smile, a mix of love and longing in your heart. “I’ll hold you to that, I’ll keep the kettle ready. And I’ll make sure to get some proper biscuits this time.”

You had bought some fancy biscuits with rosemary and bergamot once, and Simon had absolutely hated them. Not that he had expressed it like that; he had been very polite about it, carefully trying to mask his distaste for the treats. However, you could see right through him. You had run down to the corner shop under your flat and bought some milk choc hobnobs, cause despite looking like a big scary bloke your boyfriend has the tastebuds of a child.      

“That sounds good,” Simon says, a longing sigh coming through the phone.

The simple thought of sharing a cup of tea with Simon brings a smile to your face. It’s the simple moments like those that you cherish the most, the moments of normalcy amidst the chaos that his career brings. But it also makes you miss other things to do with Simon. 

“Yeah, it does,” you agree, as your heart yearns for him you let a short silence unfold between you before you continue, your voice now sounding a little lower and more breathy. “I miss you, Simon.”

There is a brief pause before Simon responds, his voice filled with a mix of longing and determination, and holy fuck how you love that voice. You feel heat creep up your cheeks, at the sound, warmth pooling in your stomach, spreading through your body like a wildfire with longing for him. “I miss you too, love. Can’t wait to hold you again.” 

A surge of anticipation courses through you, and you can’t help but let your voice drop to a sultry whisper. “Yeah, I look forward to that.” 

Simon’s voice takes on a husky tone as he reads your switch in mood. “Consider it a guarantee, love. When I get back, I’ll make it up to you, show you just how much I’ve missed you, okay?”

“Mmm.” You hum to let him know that you are hearing him, but it comes out closer to a moan really. 

A brief silence hangs in the air between you before you break the silence again. 

“Si…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m wearing your shirt,” you confess, the words escaping your lips with a mix of vulnerability and desire.

There is a short pause between you, one that feels way longer than it actually is, before Simon finally says something. “Which one, darling?” His voice carries a hint of curiosity and anticipation, as if he can already picture you wearing it.

“Your Zeppelin one,” you confess.

You can hear how Simon’s breath quickens on the other end of the line, becoming more throaty and shallow. His voice, when he finally speaks, is filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness.

“Yeah?” he responds, his tone laced with anticipation.

“Yeah, it smells like you,” you whisper down the phone. “I just miss you so much.” 

There’s a moment of silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Then, Simon replies, his voice filled with the same desire that echoes within you. “Believe me, love, the feeling is mutual.” 

His words carry a warmth that wraps around you, bridging the physical distance between you both. It also makes a warm sensation swoop through your stomach, and you involuntarily squeeze your thighs together as you begin to feel a warm throbbing between your legs.     

“I wish you were here,” you say, meaning it from the bottom of your heart. 

Simon lets out a low chuckle, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Yeah, me too, love, you have no idea. But I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”

Squirming slightly in your seat by his words, the warm throbbing of your cunt increases. You take a deep breath grabbing the fabric of his shirt to bring it up to your nose, the scent of him lingers, providing a sense of comfort and reassurance but also making you miss having him close so much more, making you crave it. 

“Are you alone?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.     

“Yes.”     

“Wanna tell me what you’re going to do to me when you come home?” You feel a swoop of anticipation run through you as you ask him.

The sound of Simon swallowing audibly comes through the phone, his voice filled with anticipation. 

You put your phone on speaker, placing it on a pillow beside you. 

“I’d take my time with you,” his voice crackles through the speaker, deep and raspy. “I’d start by kissing that sweet mouth of yours. I’d drink up all those little moans you always make for me. You have no idea how much they turn me on. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I hear them, making me so fucking hard, baby. and I’ll have to get up to rub one out.”       

And as if on cue you let out a whiny moan as you imagine him in his tactical trousers, the imposing bulge of his hard-on restrained against the fabric, how his big hand will squeeze it though the garment. 

“Yes, baby, just like that,” he says with a sound that you think was supposed to be a laugh but ends up sounding more like a throaty groan. You hear the clang of metal through the phone, like a belt being unbuckled.  

“I’d kiss you until we are both out of breath, until we would have to break apart, maybe even a little longer. Fuck, miss kissing you so much, lovie.” 

“Miss that too,” you whimper, your hands now on your breasts, softly squeezing them through the soft cotton of Simon’s shirt as you rub your thighs together, feeling how the throbbing of your cunt reaches a whole new high, your panties getting more and more damp.      

“I’d start going down, kiss your jaw and down your neck,” Simon continues. 

Your breath hitches, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You can almost feel how your skin tingles in the places Simon describes kissing. 

“I’d keep going down, kiss you everywhere, love. Let myself taste just how sweet that body of yours is,” he groans softly. 

As his words reach your ears, a vivid image takes shape in your mind. You can picture the way he would hold you. How he would slowly trace every contour, every curve, as he maps out your skin with his lips and tongue, savouring the taste and texture of your skin, leaving a trail of desire in his wake.

“I’d take those pretty tits in my mouth, give them the attention they deserve.”  

You let out a little squeal as you imagine his tongue around your nipples, licking and sucking at your sensitive nubs. 

“Then I’d have you laid back on the bed, all naked and spread out for me. I’d get between your thighs and eat that sweet pussy out just how I know you like it, wouldn’t stop until you’ve gushed all over my face.”  

The thought alone sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself instinctively responding to the memory.  You can feel the weight of his touch, the warmth of his breath against your skin. Your head tilts back, lost in the sensations that flood your imagination. The mere thought of his touch elicits a tantalising twitch of pleasure through your body, a physical manifestation of the connection you share.

You let your legs part, spreading them wide on the soft mattress, and you let your non-dominant hand creep down the soft fabric of the Simon’s shirt, continuing lower until you reach the hem of the garment and slides it up under the shirt, slowly tracing your fingers up over the warm skin of your naked abdomen and up through the valley of your tits, until you cup your breast again, this time without the barrier of the shirt, gently squeezing at the soft flesh before you start playing with your hardened nipple. Your dominant hand is wandering down to your panties, the pads of your fingers gently tracing a line over the now soaked fabric. You haven’t been this wet in a while, at least not since Simon left for deployment.   

Through the speakers of your phone, you hear him curse softly, his voice filled with a mix of longing and frustration. The distance between you feels unbearable, as the desire to be together intensifies with each passing moment. As you close your eyes, your imagination takes flight, allowing you to indulge in the sweet memories of your bodies entwined. The anticipation builds, fueling the fire within. 

Now feeling so damned desperate you dip your hand into your panties, slowly sliding your fingers through your wet folds, coating them with your arousal, before you start to, oh so slowly, circling around your clit.  

“I’d let myself drown in that sweet, sweet pussy of yours. Sweetest, fucking thing I’ve ever had. I can still taste it whenever I think about it,” he continues. His tone is damn near dangerous, so low and growly. You almost cum from the thought alone, the thought of being completely at his mercy. “What about you, love? What would you do with me if I was there?” He coaxes you. 

“I’d let you have me however you want me. I miss having you inside me so bad, Si,” You admit with a whimper. 

“Oh, missing my cock that much, lovie?” he teases, but there is a tenderness and a longing hidden behind his words.   

“Mmm.” You nod even though he can’t see it. “I miss all of you, Si.”

The sounds of him pumping himself is now audible through the phone. The sound is making you even more desperate to have him back. You can’t help but imagine him, his big fist sliding up and down that big girthy cock of his, the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, throbbing and dripping with precum, just for you. 

“Fu-uuck, what I wouldn’t give to be inside you right now, sweetheart.” he almost growls, making you whimper. “I’d make you feel so good, baby. Turn you into a babbling cock drunk mess.” Simon’s voice grows huskier, filled with primal desire. “I’d fill you up so good, again and again until you you’d be fucking dripping, with my cum.” He growls down the phone. “Fill you up and give you a piece of me to carry, a piece of me you could have forever. Fu-uuck, and everyone would know that I’m yours, that we belong together.”    

A soft moan escapes your mouth as you imagine the scenario he’s describing. Your fingers now moving in fast tight circles around your sensitive clit. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, huh, love?” His voice, dripping with hunger and desperation, and you whine out for him, giving him those sweet sounds that you know makes him go feral. 

“Good girl,” he praises. “Fuuck, doing so good for me.”

A hot shiver runs up your spine at the praise. You remove your fingers from your clit, instead sliding them down a little further, making your panties push down your hips to instead dwell around your thighs. You drag your fingers through your slick folds, collecting your wetness before you slide first one then two fingers inside of your pussy. You bring your other hand, that until now had occupied your sensitive nipples, down to your clit, flickering the sensitive nub while you pump into yourself wishing that it was Simon’s skilled fingers or girthy cock that was thrusting into you instead. His name starts spilling from your lips in a line of whiny moans. 

“You sound so fuckin’ pretty,” he sounds like he is as close to ecstasy as you are, his voice low and breathy. “Are you close, baby?” 

“Ye-yeah, so close, Si,” you pant. The slick sound of your fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt ring in your ears and you know that Simon must be able to hear it over the phone. 

“I’m close too, love. Can you cum for me, sweetheart? We can cum together. Imagine me filling up that sweet little pussy, have you dripping with my cum, yeah?”  

“Yes, Simon, want that so bad,” you moan, “Fu-uck, I’m so close, Si.”

“That’s good. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart,” he groans. “Come on, baby, cum with me.” 

You moan out his name as your walls clench around your fingers, your other hand flicking over your clit in a fast steady rhythm as you feel how the tight coil in your stomach finally snaps, your orgasm rushing through you in hot, blissful waves as you fuck yourself through your high. You can hear Simon’s throaty moans coming over the phone, cursing and panting under his breath as you both ride out your climaxes.

Your walls flutter around your fingers as you slowly come down from your high. Aftershocks are still pumping through your cunt as you slowly pull your soaked fingers out, wiping them off on the sheets. You’ll change them in the morning, but right now you can’t be bothered. 

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Simon’s voice crackles through the phone again. “How do you feel?”

“I’m good, Si, really good, just wished you were here to feel good with me.” You grab the phone, turning it off speaker again and bringing it up to your ear. You lay yourself down on your side, curling up on yourself  as you let your body sink into the soft mattress. You pull the duvet over you, suddenly feeling very tired and alone, wishing that Simon was there to cuddle with you.     

“Yeah, I’d like that too.” His voice sounds much softer now.  

A little silence falls over you, the both of you needing to land again and you both feel the other’s absence all the more now, but you don’t want to stop talking with Simon, not when you finally can, but you also know that he only has limited time for phone calls. You just have to stay strong until you finally have him back again.  

“Si?”

“Yes, love?” Simon responds, his deep voice gentle and reassuring.

“Come back to me safe?” you plead, the weight of worry evident in your words.

A small pause follows. Then, Simon’s voice breaks through, filled with determination and devotion. “Love, I’ll come crawling back to you if I have to.” 

The words hang in the air for a moment, the intensity of Simon’s promise sinking into your heart. Tears well up in your eyes as you whisper, “I don’t know what I would do without you, Simon.” The vulnerability in your voice echoes the depth of your emotions, the fear of losing him almost too much to bear.

Simon’s voice softens, filled with tenderness as he responds, “You won’t have to find out, love.” 

Though you still worry about him, you let his words offer you solace for now.  

“It’s getting late,” Simon’s voice comes through with a hint of playfulness. “I think it’s time for you to get some beauty sleep.”

You can’t help but let out a tired giggle at his teasing tone, despite your worry for him, feeling the warmth of his affection even through the phone. “Oh, so you think I need beauty sleep, huh?” you reply, a mischievous twinkle in your voice.

Simon chuckles softly. “Well, only because you’re already the most beautiful person I know, and I want you to wake up even more radiant tomorrow.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, lieutenant Riley,” you say, a playful lilt in your voice and he chuckles softly at your remark. “Can you stay on the line until I fall asleep?” you ask softly, a gentle plea in your voice.

“Of course, love,” Simon replies, his words full of unwavering devotion. “I’ll stay with you as long as you need me.” 

A sense of comfort washes over you, knowing that even when miles apart, Simon is there for you. The ache in your heart is still there, but it’s overshadowed by the knowledge that Simon is safe, for now.  

Closing your eyes, you listen to the steady sound of his breathing, a reminder of his presence and the love that binds you together. In this moment, sleep comes easier, your worries momentarily eased by the knowledge that you are not alone.

As you drift off into dreams, you hold onto the promise that soon you will be reunited, and the ache in your heart will be replaced with the joy of being in Simon’s arms once again.

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, mentions of death, hospitals, poor writing, possible ooc,

Part 7: recycled goods

🔹🔹🔹

“This is for you.”

Bruce drops a phone in your lap unprompted, he'd been in the middle of explaining his business ventures to you something about a rival company, Luthor something? when he paused and fished it out of his pocket.

Your brow quirks as you fish it out of the blankets and hold it up, it doesn't look brand new, the stickers on the back say as much. There's a yellow eagle insignia of some sort that reminds you a bit of Captain marvel, and a red S in a diamond, Both stickers are a bit lopsided and slightly worn around the edges.

“this is….” You glance at the man.

He's quick to supply the info. “It was yours, it is yours actually.” he leans forward and rests his elbows on the bed near your arm as he explains, you're slowly getting used to his comfortable he is getting close to you.

“I see…. What are these for?” You gesture at the stickers curiously, your expression betraying nothing but perfect contentedness and curiosity.

“That's-”

“that one's wonder woman, and that one's Superman.” Damian, who had been quietly doing schoolwork on the other side of your bed interrupts him, dropping his pen to point at the different symbols. You felt strange about the kid ever since the dream, not that you've shown it.

“Oh, those are the…. Justice Legends right?” From what you've gathered they're basically this worlds avengers, a team of superheroes squirm to protect the planet. Yada yada yada.

“Justice League, yeah. The oldest boys stuck those on there at some point.” Bruce quickly and gently corrects you before Damian can cut him off again, he looks a bit sad that you know so little, his lips pulling thin and his shoulders sag slightly. but he quickly shakes the look off and straightens up in his chair.

“TT, sloppy work too. I wouldn't have put them on wrong.” Damian scoffs as he glances at the phone in your hand, he's quite the little perfectionist it seems.

“It's just stickers, Dami.” Bruce's words make Damian grumble and roll his eyes, picking up his pen and resuming writing quietly.

They both leave when the nurse shows up to change your bedding, telling them visiting hours were over with a nervous air about her. The fact that everyone defers to the billionaire gets on your nerves.

🔹🔹🔹

You're on the rooftop again, still stuck in the damn wheelchair per doctors orders. You're not quite sure why you come up here of all places, probably the thought of all the cameras in the sitting lounges pisses you off, makes you feel even more cooped up than your windowless room does.

You're fiddling with the phone, first thing you'd noticed when you'd powered it on was the fact it was apparently Wayne tech. Going through it the second thing you noticed was that it was bugged. That sours your mood at first, but then it feels like a challenge to you. You've been decoding and planting and removing malware for longer than these fuckers have been alive, if you could encrypt Stark tech this will be easy.

It's engaging enough that you almost don't notice his appearance, his cape blowing in the wind as he balances on the ledge like he's Spider-Man or something. Fucking bat-man again.

“do you climb up here every night looking for me, or are you keeping tabs on me.” You don't look up from the phone as you call out to him, too engrossed in ruining the programs embedded in it.

“I climb a lot of buildings at night.” He mutters dryly, the forced deep tones still present as he slides off the ledge and walks closer like a normal person finally.

You glance up at him, you're still wary of the guy obviously, but so far he's behaved whenever he's appeared. “That's a weird way to get your cardio in.”

“It's more than cardio, I'm helping people.”

“Right, right. You're a part of the…. Justice Legends right? ‘saving the world one cosmic threat at a time’ yeah?”

“…yeah, I'm a part of them. What're you doing?” He glances down at the phone in your lap, obviously indicating what he means.

“going through my phone, or i suppose it's mine.” You shrug nonchalantly, glancing back down at the device. You scowl when you realize the spyware is updating itself, possible AI? or is someone actively resisting the bug removal remotely? You huff as you pick it up and go back to work on the device.

“where'd you get it from?” The caped hero presses on, leaning back against an AC unit And loosely crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“My husband, brought it in today while him and the young one were visiting. Mother-” you roll your eyes slightly as you find the stupid malware is layered, codes hidden within codes.

“problem?” He tilts his head, watching you scowl at the phone and getting worked up as you fiddle with it.

“It's fucking bugged, some creep could be watching me right now.” you assume that as a hero, he knows how annoying attempts to spy on your person are, anyone running around with his whole theme would probably never want to be watched. You smirk when you get one over on the mysterious thing trying to block your attempts, now this is environment enrichment.

“Bugged? As in tapped?” The bat themed man straightens up and stalks closer to you, squatting down beside you to watch you work.

You let him, at least he's not as touchy as your ‘family’. You just hum distractedly in response as you practically jab your fingers into your phone.

It's silent for a few moments, just the sound of wind and the distant ambiance of the city while you work on the phone and the man watches. he rests his elbows on the arm of your chair, eventually he breaks the silence (and your concentration.)

“You're good at this, real good…. Where'd you learn?” He tilts his masked head, there's a tension to him that wasn't there before. You're sure of that.

“Dunno, i just know it. Hey you know the people and the things worth knowing here, yeah? Tell me what this symbol is.” You see no need to tell him you learned this in Moscow, many years ago when you were still just a kid trying to survive. You turn the phone towards him and show him the picture on your phone, some kind of symbol from whatever is hacking your phone. A green circle with that appears to be the caricature of a woman's face.

He hums, grabbing your wrist to steady the phone. damn shaky limbs after a few seconds he releases you and shrugs, his elbows returning to the arm of your wheelchair.

“couldn't tell you, might be a private company thing…Do you want me to find out?”

“maybe, any idea why someone might spy on a random citizen?” As much as you're enjoying cracking this yourself, you don't like the thought of not covering your blind spots. Was it your family? Or did someone get access to the phone while in their possession? The thought makes the paranoid part of your subconscious itch, you'd throw the phone off the roof if it wasn't your direct tie to whoever's behind this.

“I've got a few ideas…. I'll look into it myself, don't panic, okay? I'll get back to you when I've got something.” He straightens up, stepping behind you to grab the handles of your chair as he starts to walk you back into the hospital.

🔹🔹🔹

Bruce is driving towards the GCPD, the bat symbol has been on for nearly ten minutes now and he's in a bit of a rush as he weaves through traffic. His notification system starts going off and he can already take a few guesses on this calling.

“B, thank God! you need to go check on operater right now they're-”

“they're fine, Oracle. I was just there. Everything's fine.” He interrupts quickly, she's probably been trying to reach him for a few moments.

“what? So it was you who wrecked my program then? Why the fu-”

He almost feels bad about interrupting her again. “It wasn't me, Oracle. I just….watched operater do it.” the line goes quiet for a beat, the only sound in the car is the low purr of the engines as he swerves around a garbage truck.

“…B, you and i both know operater can't do that.” Babs sounds confused, he can just picture her glaring at her monitor as she speaks slowly.

“…yeah, i know.”

🔹🔹🔹

M.list | prev | next

A/n: sorry this one's a bit late! I'm not 100% happy with this chapter but I've had a migraine for a few days so this is what we've got 🥲

Taglist: @cxcilla @mercuryathens @dind1n @redsakura101 @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @ladykamos @one-piecelover

[misssparklingpaws]

Hey!! So, I watched Thunderbolts a few weeks ago and I've been obsessed! It kind of felt like 2016 all over again. After the movie, I had this idea and decided to write it down. I'm not a writer, but I wanted to give it a try. I hope you like it!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shadow in flame

Aria Stark, Tony’s grieving older daughter, returns to train the Thunderbolts at Bucky Barnes’ request. She’s here to keep them alive—not to heal them. But facing broken people means confronting her own buried grief… and maybe finding unexpected love in Robert Reynolds, a sweet but powerful unstable man.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shadow in the Flame

Chapter 1: Ghosts Don’t Knock, They Walk In

Bucky Barnes had never been good at asking for help. But standing in the half-lit command room of the newly reoccupied Avengers Tower, now Thunderbolt HQ, he found himself hesitating in front of a comm unit that hadn’t been used in months.

“Are you gonna press the damn button or not?” Yelena’s voice came from behind him, tired but amused.

He sighed. “She’s not the easiest person to ask.”

“Well,” Yelena leaned against the console, arms crossed, “neither are you.”

Bucky smirked despite himself. “Fair.”

He pressed the button.

---

Aria Lucía Stark wasn’t used to being summoned anymore. Not by SHIELD. Not by the government. Not bye old friends.

Running Stark Industries didn’t leave Aria much time to breathe, exactly how she liked it. Meetings, tech launches, diplomatic dinners, defense contracts... all perfect distractions from the emptiness that had never quite gone away since her father’s death.

She lived in quiet obscurity, floating between labs and work. Grief never left her.

She spoke to Pepper daily, more like reports than conversations. And every weekend, like clockwork, she took Morgan out for ice cream, teaching her to build circuits and ignore grief the same way she did: by moving forward.

Aria didn’t cry. Ever. Not when she returned after the Snap. Not when she meet her 5 year old sister and the little girl hugged her like she knew her from years, Not at the funeral. Not even when Morgan asked her once, “Do you miss him too?”

She just nodded, kissed the top of the little girl’s head, and changed the subject.

When Bucky Barnes called, he didn’t use official channels. Just a voice message on the encrypted line her father once reserved for Avengers business.

"Need someone who knows how to handle messes. And broken people. You were raised by one. Come to the tower. It’s time.”

She didn't know why but after hearing the message she didn’t hesitate. She packed one bag and boarded the jet herself.

---

Aria Lucia Stark stood at the platform's edge as her quinjet landed. Stark Tech. Sleek. Perfect. Like her.

She stepped out in black tight outfit, black compression shirt, black expensive leggings and combat boots, her expression unreadable beneath oversized sunglasses. Long dark brown almost black hair pull in a high ponytail, body petite but undeniably strong. Her presence was magnetic.

She hadn’t expected the tower to look this alive.

“Welcome home, Stark.”

“I don’t live here,” Aria replied coolly, setting her bags. “I’m consulting two months then I go back to dealing with things that don’t explode.” She said plainly. “You cut your hair."

“You didn’t,” he replied.

She allowed herself a twitch of a smirk.

“I appreciate you coming,” he added, tone softening. “I know it’s not easy, coming back here.”

“I didn’t come for here,” Aria said, arms crossed. “You called. I owe you.”

Yelena snorted. “You must be fun at parties.”

“I don’t attend them.” Aria’s voice was even, her face unreadable.

Walker nodded once in acknowledgment. Ava just blinked and vanished from sight. Red Guardian looking excited.

And then there was Robert Reynolds, fidgety, brown-haired. He barely looked up when she entered. Eyes wide like he was seeing ghosts and fingers twitching at his sides like static lived under his skin.

“Is he stable?” she asked Bucky.

“He’s trying.”

“I’ll need a full psychological scan and containment protocols.”

“He’s not a weapon.”

She met Bucky’s eyes. “Neither was Dad. Didn’t stop the universe from aiming him like one.”

Robert Reynolds kept his eyes on the floor.

“This is Aria Stark,” Bucky said. “You listen to her, you learn from her, and if you're lucky, you survive her training.”

“I’m not here to make friends,” Aria added, gaze scanning them like data points. “I’m here because the last time people like you were left unsupervised, half the planet evaporated.”

---

By nightfall, she sat in the kitchen and took a video call.

Morgan waved wildly through the screen. “Ari! I built a robot that waters Mom’s plants! It has a face now!”

“Very efficient,” Aria said, lips twitching at the edges. “Just don’t make it sentient.”

Pepper appeared behind Morgan. “How’s the tower?”

“Dysfunctional,” Aria answered. “But I’ve seen worse.”

“You’re doing the right thing,” Pepper said gently. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

“It never does.”

Morgan frowned. “You sound sad.”

“I’m not I'm just tired corazón.”

Morgan beamed. “You should sleep in the lab! That always makes you happy!”

Aria smiled, just a little. “Maybe I will.”

A loud crash startled her. She turned to see Robert Reynolds tripping over a table trying to escape his own shadow again.

Aria sighed, stood ending the call after saying bye to her half baby sister and walking over to help him up.

“You’re not very good at walking,” she said dryly, offering a hand.

He looked up at her, eyes wide with confusion and fear, but took her hand.

“I’m... trying, and sorry I interrupt your mom call, wanted a milkshake" He mumbled.

She look him in the eye, ice cold "Pepper isn't my mother, but don't worry I was already saying goodbye"

"Mmm sorry I..." Robert started

"See you in the morning Reynolds" Aria Said and leave the room.

---

She returned to the training floor the next morning. The team was already assembled, half-arguing, half-stretching.

She cleared her throat. Her voice rang out like iron.

“From today on, I’m in charge of your combat refinement, psychological evaluations, and mission planning. You don’t have to like me. But you will follow orders. Any questions?”

Nobody responded.

She stared at them “Survive a week without destroying each other, and I’ll consider it.”

The room went quiet.

And then, for the first time in years, Aria Stark felt something close to anticipation.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------I hope you like it

[hevvxx2]

Title: "Catch Me"

Characters: Joaquin Torres x Reader

(Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes mentioned)

Warnings: Kidnapping, blood, guns… uhh yk the works..

Summary: She’s kidnapped in the middle of the night and used as bait to distract Sam, Bucky, and Joaquin, she’s beaten and pushed off a skyscraper. Joaquin dives after her without hesitation, catching her just in time. Bloodied and barely conscious, she finally lets her guard down in his arms, and for the first time, he sees just how much she’s been holding in — and how much she means to him.

She was gone.

No note. No trace.

No blood in the apartment, no signs of a fight — which made it worse. She wouldn’t have gone down without one.

Her comms were dead. She hadn’t checked in. Not once. And when Joaquin stepped into her empty living room at 2 a.m. — coffee in hand, ready to bug her about the latest encryption issue — the silence hit him like a bullet.

He didn’t even have to say it.

Sam’s jaw clenched. Bucky muttered, “Shit.” and grabbed his gear.

Then the message came through.

One of their safe lines. An old Hydra ping, encrypted to hell — but the point was clear.

"We have her."

They were using her to distract them. Lure them. Keep them busy while the real plan unfolded.

She was bait.

It was the rooftop of an unfinished skyscraper. Thirty-five stories above the city, lit by floodlights and wind and chaos.

Joaquin saw her first.

She was on her knees near the edge, arms bound behind her back. Blood on her face. Her lip split, one eye swollen shut. Her body shook like it was barely holding itself together. Her head was down — like she couldn’t even lift it anymore.

"There." Joaquin said, breaking into a sprint. "She’s right there—"

A sharp shout stopped him.

"Move and she falls!"

A man stood behind her. Another stood on a scaffolding beam, gun aimed at Joaquin. The rest — maybe four or five more — scattered around the rooftop, watching like it was a show… Like it was some kind of display.

"She didn’t want to talk." the man behind her sneered. "Not about Sam. Not about Barnes. Not even you, bird-boy. Tough little thing."

Her head lifted — just barely — and when Joaquin saw her eyes, he stopped breathing.

There was blood in her hair. Her cheek was split. But the look in her eyes…

It begged…

Not for help.

For him not to come closer…

He ignored it.

"Let her go." Joaquin said, voice low, shaking with fury. "You got what you wanted. We’re here."

"You don’t get it." the man said. "You’re not meant to save her. You’re meant to watch."

And just like that — he shoved her.

Joaquin dove before he could even think.. it was instinct..

His wings exploded out as he jumped over the edge, wind howling, eyes locked on her falling form.

She didn’t scream. Didn’t thrash. Maybe she was too weak. Maybe she thought this was it.

Joaquin’s arms closed around her with seconds to spare.

The impact of catching her sent pain screaming through his back, his wings fighting gravity as hard as they could. They smashed into a rooftop several stories below, tumbling hard — but alive.

Alive.

He landed first, taking the worst of the fall.

She landed in his arms — limp, bloodied, barely conscious.

"Hey, hey—" Joaquin pushed her hair back from her face, trying to keep his voice steady. "Stay with me, okay? I got you. I got you."

Her lashes fluttered. She blinked up at him, dazed.

"You’re… dumb.." she rasped. "Should’ve let me fall."

He let out a half-laugh, half-sob. "Yeah, well. That’s not really my style."

Her hand twitched against his chest. Not grabbing. Just touching. Grounding herself.

"I didn’t talk…" she whispered. "Not once. Not even when they—" She winced, breath hitching. "—not even when they cut me."

"I know." Joaquin whispered. "I know you didn’t. You’re the toughest person I’ve ever met."

"…still hurts." she mumbled, and for once — just once — her voice cracked.

"I know, cariño. I know." He pressed his forehead to hers, shielding her with his body as the rest of the team closed in. "But you’re safe now."

She didn’t reply.

Her fingers curled in his shirt, barely holding on.

And he held her like the world could fall again, and he’d still catch her…

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this little fic! Also don’t worry guys! I’m still working on my other fic of Bucky! Part 4 is coming out later on today! I thought I should write a Joaquin fic since there’s barely any out there! And maybe give you guys something to read while I continue writing my Bucky fic! Anyways thank you for reading! 🤍☺️

[magic-shop-stories]

mafia au where they react to reader getting hurt ? (my tumblr has been messing up so i apologize if it was sent twice)

💌 Reply:

Hey there, THANK YOU for your request, I loved the idea - tho it's my first time writing mafia AU in any fandom. I hope this is what you wanted and is to your liking. And don't worry! It's kinda funny, bc I got an almsot similar mafia request the same day, however I think it wasn't you xD I hope you have fun reading 💜

BTS MAFIA AU! HEADCANONS

~ CONTENT WARNING~

dark themes = violence, psychological manipulation, (intense) power dynamics

(mafia-style vengeance), possessiveness, strategic brutality, protective obsession

NAMJOON

cold rage

strategic vengeance

quiet devotion

IMMEDIATE REACTION

Silent Storm

freezes mid-sentence when he sees your injury

cigar in his hand crumbling to ash

voice drops to a whisper, glacial and lethal

“Who. Was. It.” 

not a question = a death warrant

secretly blames himself for your loyalty

Controlled Chaos

calm before a calculated storm

orders his men to lock down the district

every exit, every alley, every shadow belongs to him now

“Bring them to me alive. I want to teach them manners.”

ACTION

Interrogation as Art

drags the culprits to his underground vault

no screams, no theatrics = just logic

 “You harmed what’s mine. Let’s discuss… consequences.” 

uses their own secrets against them

psychological annihilation

breaking their will with psychological precision

leaves them begging for death

Strategic Retribution

ruins lives with paperwork (not bullets = for you he makes an exception)

burns their operations to the ground

not before rerouting their funds to your account

texts you a screenshot: 

“For your trouble.”

Your Security Overhaul

replaces your guards with his most ruthless enforcers

assigns you a 24/7 shadow

“You’re not leaving this penthouse until I redesign the world.”

AFTERMATH

Caretaker

tends to your wound himself

hands steady but jaw clenched

“This shouldn’t have happened. I miscalculated.” 

guilt is a silent third person in the room

Philosophy & Promises

reads Marcus Aurelius aloud while disinfecting your stitches

“‘The best revenge is to be unlike your enemy.’ But tonight… I’ll make an exception.”

Sleep-Watch

sits vigil by your bed, laptop open to surveillance feeds

murders a rival via encrypted email while brushing hair from your forehead

DIALOGUE

“You are my equilibrium. Disturb you, and I dismantle the universe.”

to a trembling underling:

“If she dies, you’ll wish I’d only killed you.”

whispered against your temple:

“Forgive me. I’ll burn heaven itself to keep you safe.”

JIN

charm

cunning

vengeance served with a smile

IMMEDIATE REACTION

Masked Fury

laughs, sharp and cold

inspects your wound

“Yah, who dared scratch my masterpiece?” 

his grin doesn’t reach his eyes

his eyes are glacial, calculating

Deadly Composure

lpours himself a drink

exhaling slowly

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure they regret their life choices.”

ACTION

Theatrical Retribution

invites the culprits to a “truce dinner” at his penthouse

serves champagne laced with arsenic

toasting: “To poor decisions!” (they collapse)

Psychological Warfare

leaks their secrets to their families

ruining their reputations

sends you a bouquet with a note: 

“Roses are red, revenge is sweeter. Sleep well.”

Overprotective Protocol

assigns his most loyal hitman as your shadow

“His name’s Kimchi. He’s great at gardening.” 

Kimchi’s specialty is burying bodies

AFTERMATH

Mother Hen Mode

force-feeds you homemade jjajangmyeon

fussing over your bandages

“Eat. You’ll need energy to watch me ruin more people.”

Guilt in Disguise

jokes about your “clumsiness”

but stays up all night reviewing security footage

“Next time, I’m wrapping you in bubble wrap. Worldwide Handsome brand.”

Secret Softness

leaves a custom first-aid kit by your bed

filled with painkillers, chocolate, and a tiny knife

“For emergencies. Or snacks.”

DIALOGUE

“You hurt my favorite toy. Now I’ll play with you.”

to you, while stitching your wound: 

“If you die, I’ll kill you myself. Understood?”

whispered against your ear: 

“Next time, let me do the stabbing. I’m prettier when I’m covered in blood.”

YOONGI

silent rage

calculated cruelty

love that bleeds in the shadows

IMMEDIATE REACTION

Dead Calm

freezes when he sees your injury

eyes narrowing to slits

his voice is a whisper, colder than a winter grave

“Who. Touched. You.” 

the room chills; even his men step back

Assessment

runs a gloved thumb over your wound

analyzing it like a broken track

“Shallow. Clean. They wanted you alive to scare me.” 

his smile is venomous

“Mistake.”

ACTION

Methodical Vengeance

Intel First

hacks into city cameras, traffic cams, even smartwatches to trace every step of your attackers

finds them in 47 minutes

The Studio

drags them to his soundproofed studio

outfitted with chains, scalpels

a vintage record player blaring Schubert’s "Death and the Maiden."

Interrogation

uses a soldering iron to brand their skin with musical notes

“This is fortissimo. Let’s see how loud you scream.”

Finale

records their confession

edits it into a symphony of screams

sends it to their boss

texts you: “Track 8. Your lullaby.”

Strategic Annihilation

burns their drug shipments

poisons their cash flow

leaks their ledgers to the feds

leaves their leader’s severed hands in a piano bench with a note: 

“Play your swan song.”

AFTERMATH

Surgeon

stitches your wound himself

hands steady but jaw ticking

“Don’t move. I’m not a fucking nurse.”

Guilt in Silence

sits in the dark

cleaning his gun

when you find him, he rasps: 

“Should’ve been me. Not you. Never you.”

New Rules

implants a GPS tracker in all your clothes 

“Try to remove it, and I’ll cuff you to my bed. Permanently.”

HIDDEN SOFTNESS

Midnight Watch

sleeps on the floor beside your bed

back against the door

wakes at every sound, gun in hand

Gifts of War

leaves a diamond necklace on your pillow

stolen from the rival boss’s vault

“Wear it. Reminds them who you belong to.”

Secret Ritual

plays Clair de Lune on the piano

fingers trembling

“You’re my only quiet. Don’t take that from me.”

DIALOGUE

to the traitors: 

“You don’t get to die until I’m bored.”

to you, bandaging you:

“Hurting you is like cutting my own veins. I’ll bleed the world dry before I let it happen again.”

whispered in the dark:

“You’re my fucking heartbeat. If they stop you, I stop everything.”

BONUS Youngi as the consigliere who writes symphonies of violence? Chef’s kiss. He’d 100% use a metronome during torture

J-HOPE

radiant rage

choreographed/well planned vengeance

a smile that hides daggers

IMMEDIATE REACTION

Smiling Fury

his grin doesn’t falter when he sees your injury

it sharpens

eyes glinting like polished steel

he tilts his head

“Who made you bleed, baby? Let’s dance.” 

his voice is sing-song, but the room tenses

even the air feels charged

Controlled Chaos

claps twice, summoning his men

“Lock the exits. We’re throwing a party.” 

the word “party” drips with menace

ACTION

Theatrical Retribution

Stage Setup

lures the attackers to an abandoned theater

rigged with spotlights and explosives

Performance

forces them to fight each other in a grotesque “dance battle” at gunpoint

“You wanted attention? Spotlight’s on you!”

Finale

drops a chandelier on the last survivor

humming “Blood Sweat & Tears” as it crashes.

texts you a video with the caption: “Encore?”

Strategic Flair

floods their warehouses with neon paint (his signature color)

ruining millions in product

“Now their drugs match their personalities, toxic and tacky.”

leaves their leader’s severed tongue in a glitter-filled envelope

“For lying to me.”

AFTERMATH

Overprotective Mode

assigns you a 24/7 guard detail dressed as backup dancers

“If they can’t pirouette and shoot, what’s the point?”

installs panic buttons in your jewelry

“Press it, and I’ll waltz in. Literally.”

Guilt Masked as Energy

drowns his worry in hyperactive planning

rearranges your safehouse into a pastel fortress

“New decor! Bulletproof doors. And they’re blush pink!”

Secret Softness

plays “Chicken Noodle Soup” on loop while disinfecting your wound

“It’s… calming. Shut up.”

HIDDEN DEPTHS

Dancefloor Trauma

reveals he once used his dance crew as a hit squad

“We pirouetted past security. Knives in our socks.”

Flashback Triggers

finds you practicing a old choreography he taught you

freezes, then snaps: 

“Never do that again.” 

later admits: 

“That routine… it’s how I lost my first love.”

DIALOGUE

to the attackers: 

“You messed with my rhythm. Now I’ll break your beat.”

to you, tightening your bandages: 

“You’re my only melody. I’ll silence anyone who tries to scratch the record.”

whispered in your ear, voice breaking: 

“If you die, I’ll forget how to smile. Don’t take that from me.”

BONUS

He’d 10000% coordinate his bullets to match his outfit!!!

JIMIN

deadly ballet of cruelty and devotion,

love and vengeance = pirouette in perfect harmony

IMMEDIATE REACTION

Tears and Tremors

freezes when he sees your wound

eyes pooling with tears

“Who did this to you?” 

his voice cracks

trembling hands hovering over your injury

then, like a switch flipped, his tears dry

his gaze turns arctic

“Never mind. I’ll ask them myself.”

Silent Fury

walks to the nearest mirror

adjusts his blood-splattered collar

smiles, a hollow, chilling grin

“Time to dance, boys.”

ACTION

Seduction

Lure

sends the attackers a bottle of champagne with a note: 

“Let’s talk.”

signs it with a lipstick kiss

Performance

greets them in a silk robe

swaying to jazz

“You hurt my heart. Let’s… discuss.” 

offers them drugged wine

Revelation

as they slump, he strips to a tailored suit underneath

“Surprise... You just kissed death.”

Punishment

Elegant Brutality

uses ballet ribbons to bind them to a grand piano

plays Swan Lake while slicing their tendons in rhythm

“This is plié. This is relevé. This is agony.”

Artistic Finale

carves a heart into their leader’s chest

fills it with rose thorns

“Love hurts, right?” 

texts you a photo: 

“Made you art”

AFTERMATH

Possessive Care

bathes you himself

scrubbing blood from your skin

“Mine. Only mine.” 

his grip bruises

his kisses are feather-light

Guilt-Driven Obsession

rearranges your entire schedule

"No more outings. No more risks. You’re my treasure, locked away forever.”

Night Terrors

wakes screaming

clawing at invisible threats

pulls you into his arms, sobbing

“I’ll kill the world. I’ll kill myself. Just… stay alive.”

HIDDEN SOFTNESS

Secret Sanctuary

builds a hidden garden for you

filled with white roses

“No blood here. Just us.”

murders a henchman for stepping on a petal

Guilty Gifts

leaves a diamond choker on your pillow

stolen from a rival

“Wear it. It matches your new scars.”

Fragile Confession

dances with you in the moonlight

lips brushing your ear

“If I lose you, I’ll forget how to be human.”

DIALOGUE

to the traitors: 

“You thought I was pretty? How cute. Pretty things bite.”

to you, bandaging your wound: 

“I’ll carve my apology into their bones. Is that enough?”

whispered in the dark, voice breaking: 

“I’m a monster. But you… you’re my holy ground.”

TAEHYUNG

charismatic chaos

psychological warfare

love that thrives in the unexpected

IMMEDIATE REACTION

Eerie Calm

tilts his head

studying your wound like a curious child

“Hmm. This is new.” 

his voice is honey-sweet

his eyes darken, pupils dilating

“Did they enjoy hurting you? I’ll ask them… slowly.”

Chilling Charm

grins, adjusting his suit sleeves

“Don’t worry, jagiya. I’ll make their death fascinating.”

ACTION

Masquerade

Infiltration

disguises himself as a medic to enter the rival gang’s hideout

flirts with their leader’s sister

slipping her a poisoned rose

“For your beauty..." 

she collapses mid-laugh

Mind Games

forces the attackers to play Russian roulette

but every chamber is loaded

“Life’s a gamble! Let’s see if you’re lucky.”

records their screams and loops them as their ringtone

Grand Finale

locks the survivors in a room with a “gift”

a bomb disguised as a vintage wine crate

texts them: 

“Pop the cork! 🍾”

Strategic Cruelty

replaces their drugs with crushed glass

“Customers love extra crunch.”

sends their families personalized condolence letter

before the victims die

“I’m thoughtful like that.”

AFTERMATH

Possessive Obsession

moves you into his penthouse

walls lined with surveillance screens

“Now I can watch you and the sunset. Romantic, right?”

Guilt-Fueled Whimsy

buys a zoo’s worth of exotic pets “to cheer you up.”

lets a panther sleep at the foot of your bed (not a real one but the biggest black dog he can find)

“His name’s Marshmallow. He’s great at security.”

Nighttime Rituals

bathes you in champagne bath

scrubbing away blood with gold-leaf soap

“Only the best for my masterpiece.”

HIDDEN DEPTHS

Trauma Trigger

finds you humming a lullaby he’d forgotten

his mother’s song (lost her in a turf war)

snaps, smashing a vase

“Never. Sing. That. Again.” 

later, soaks your hands in milk to heal cuts from the glass

Secret Sacrifice

takes a bullet meant for you during a deal

laughs, blood staining his teeth

“Jokes on them. I look good in red.”

DIALOGUE

to the enemies: 

“You thought I was playful? How cute. Playtime’s over.”

to you, stitching your wound: 

“Hurting you is like breaking a rare vase. I’ll glue them back together… piece by piece.”

whispered against your neck, voice trembling: 

“If you die, I’ll forget how to breathe. So don’t.”

JUNGKOOK

feral protectiveness

raw rage

a love that’s as brutal as it is tender

IMMEDIATE REACTION

Silent Storm

his body goes rigid when he sees your injury

nostrils flaring like a wolf catching blood-scent

he doesn’t speak

just picks up his aluminum baseball bat

spins it once

cracks his neck

“Stay here!” 

he growls, voice low, guttural

“I’ll clean this up.”

Calculated Rage

texts you a single emoji an hour later: ⚾

when you call, he answers mid-swing

“Almost done, baby.”

ACTION

Brutal Efficiency

Hunt

tracks the attackers to a scrapyard

no guns, no knives

just the bat

breaks knees first, so they can’t run

“Gotta level the field.”

Interrogation

forces them to kneel on shattered glass

“Who sent you?” 

he already knows

just wants them to say it

Message

carves “PROPERTY OF JK” into their leader’s chest

leaves him breathing but mangled

dumped on the rival boss’s doorstep

Strategic Terror

floods their headquarters with stray dogs

trained to attack on command

“Meet my puppies. They’re hungry.”

slashes tires on every car in their flee

replaces brake fluid with gasoline

“Drive safe”

AFTERMATH

Possessive Care

cleans your wound with whiskey

hands steady but jaw clenched

“Don’t. Move.” 

wraps you in his leather jacket

still warm and reeking of iron

Guilt in Motion

stalks your every move for weeks

installs motion sensors in your house

“You’ll know if a fly sneezes.”

Night Watch

sleeps on the floor beside your bed

bat propped against the wall

wakes at every sound

“Just me. Go back to sleep.”

HIDDEN DEPTHS

Training Trauma

finds you lifting weights in the gym, mimicking his routine

snaps, slamming the dumbbell rack

“Stop. You’re not me.” 

later, teaches you self-defense moves

hands trembling

“If I’m not here… you’ll know what to do.”

Secret Ritual

leaves protein bars in your bag

each with a note: 

“Eat. Stay strong.” 

(eats one himself every time he leaves you alone)

Fragile Confession

after a nightmare, he curls around you, voice breaking

“I’m not a hero. I’m just… good at breaking things.”

DIALOGUE

to enemies: 

“You don’t get to die until I’m bored.”

to you, changing your bandage: 

“You’re my fucking heartbeat. Stop skipping.”

whispered against your hair, voice fractured: 

“I’ll break the world. Just… stay whole.”

[ltash]

"Wicked" Pt-3

SimonGhostRileyxf!"Rose"reader

From her highschool bully to her wicked bodyguard, from Simon to Ghost.

Palm Jumeirah, Dubai - Midnight.

The lights inside the mansion flickered, once-just a glitch, a flutter of voltage-but Rose's pulse skipped all the same. It always did now. The walls felt too close. The air, too quiet. No house this beautiful should feel like a cage, but hers did. Behind its manicured gardens and imported marble, the mansion wasn't a home. It was a gilded prison.

Massimo had made sure of that.

She hadn't been allowed to leave in weeks. Her phone was replaced. Her laptop filtered. The staff now wore polite smiles that never met their eyes. Rose had grown used to surveillance: the cameras hidden in chandeliers, the microphones embedded in vent grilles, the locks that clicked shut when they weren't supposed to.

But she still had one ghost left in the machine.

She padded barefoot into the darkened study, the only room she was never searched in. Inside the antique desk drawer was a tiny circuit board connected to a hidden port-one she'd built herself back when she still had freedom. It looked like a piece of the HVAC system, but under the hood was a different story.

She was about to use her only remaining ally: an old AI security system she had personally installed before her staff were replaced. It's disguised under the house's climate control and lighting apps-Massimo's men never even noticed it.

Late at night, she writes a command.

A hidden SOS, encrypted and buried under code.

She can't name herself, can't give details.

Just:

Her fingers trembled as she typed into the dim screen.

>High-value civilian. Palm Jumeirah. Hostile containment. Request immediate covert extraction.

She uploads it to an old abandoned GitHub repo registered under a pseudonym she once shared with a boy who used to sit at the back of her chemistry class.

Simon Riley.

The message was anonymous. There was no name, no coordinates. Just metadata buried in lines of an old GitHub repository registered under a long-forgotten pseudonym.

A joke. A nickname from school. One she had once shared with a boy who never smiled.

She didn't even know if he was still alive.

She hit send.

And hoped the wind still remembered her name.

Location: Undisclosed SAS Safehouse, Northern England

Simon was SAS now. Special Forces.

Callsign: Ghost.

The alert came through on a cold Thursday night.

He monitors that GitHub repo out of habit. It's nothing but sentiment, a scar he keeps reopening.

He hasn't checked it in years.

Until he does.

Simon Riley sat in the quiet glow of his monitor, the rain painting war patterns against the window behind him. He barely touched the internet. Except for this.

He hadn't checked the repo in years. It was a dead habit, something he did every few months. Nostalgia with no reward.

Until he saw it.

> Last push: 2 hours ago.

Encrypted within the code wasn't just a distress call.

It was her.

Rose.

He didn't breathe for nearly a full minute.

Ghost stood slowly, fingers curling into fists as a cold burn lit up in his chest. He hadn't heard her name since he'd buried it. Since the night he left without a goodbye.

His blood runs cold.

Encrypted in the code is a name he hasn't heard in half a decade:

"Rose."

He goes to his superiors.

The request is unofficial. Shadow ops.

But the words hostile containment and high-value civilian raise flags.

It gets buried under a private bodyguard detail ordered by a powerful British defense ally with silent interest in Massimo's dealings.

No name. No address. Just Palm Jumeirah, high-value civilian, hostile containment.

Enough for an unofficial op.

And the name that gets assigned?

Lieutenant Simon Riley.

His name was the first one on the assignment.

48 Hours Later a black SUV rolled past the iron gates like it belonged there.

Rose stood in her hallway, arms wrapped around herself, watching from behind the curtains.

One man stepped out. Alone.

Massimo's guards stood straighter.

Tall. Broad. Black tactical gear that looked too sharp for Dubai's heat. A skull mask covering his face, balaclava beneath it. His eyes were cold, unreadable. Like winter.

He didn't speak as he passed the guards. Just handed a sealed letter.

Authorization for close protection detail.

One of Massimo's men, it said.

Rose didn't buy it. But she didn't argue.

She stood at the top of the stairs as he entered, heart hammering.

He looked up at her.

And she, she froze.

There was something about him.

Something terrifying and familiar.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

He stopped just a few steps from her, the skull mask gleaming under the crystal chandelier.

"Ghost," he said. Just that.

The name tasted like ash.

Her voice trembled. "You're one of Massimo's men?"

"Something like that," he answered. Low. Controlled. British accent like frostbite.

She swallowed. The fear in her blood was real. She'd seen hitmen. Thugs. Brutes.

But this one was different.

An Alpha among the wolves.

Massive, silent, lethal.

The black cargo pants hugged his powerful thighs like a sculptor's sketch in motion. Every inch of him said: do not cross.

She stepped back as he approached. He didn't follow.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," Ghost said quietly, almost too softly for a man like him.

But she was.

Terrified.

Because deep inside her, something screamed that she knew him.

And that scared her more than anything else.

The mansion was quiet. Too quiet. Not the peace of luxury, but the silence of surveillance, the kind of silence that watches you breathe.

Ghost stood by the edge of the marble balcony, framed by the dim amber of Dubai’s dying sun. The call had come. The assignment given. No backup, no fanfare, just a flight, a briefing, a skull mask, and a destination: Palm Jumeirah.

He hadn’t expected it to be real. The message hidden in the GitHub code had been too poetic to believe. Too her.

But it was real.

Rose was here.

And she was in trouble.

48 Hours Earlier, She had stared at the blinking cursor for what felt like hours.

> "High-value civilian. Palm Jumeirah. Hostile containment. Request immediate covert extraction."

No names. No cry for help. No traceable language.

Just enough to mean something, to the right person.

Rose encrypted the text in base-64, nested it into an update in an abandoned GitHub repository linked to a fake climate control API, something she and Simon had once joked about building back in school. Back when he was still just Simon. Before he disappeared like mist.

She hit commit.

And prayed.

Now...

The skull mask stepped through the threshold like a shadow that had grown legs. Black tactical gear. Gloves. Thick black cargo pants that stretched over thighs built like war machines. Combat boots that echoed like the ticking of an ending.

The guards nodded, not questioning his clearance. Massimo trusted him now. The cover had been placed well.

She was in the living room. Pale as bone, curled up in a silk robe on the ivory settee.

She looked up, and froze.

The skull.

The mask.

The height.

The weight of him was a presence.

“Who are you?” she asked, voice small, breaking.

He stood still.

"Name's Ghost," he said finally, voice deep and northern, cracked like winter pavement. "Massimo brought me in for security. I’m here to watch you."

Her brows creased, fear threading through the delicate angles of her face. “I don’t need another one of his men watching me.”

He tilted his head, slowly.

“No offense, but I’m not one of his men.”

Her throat worked. She stood, slowly. The robe fell just enough to show a bruise. Faint. But there.

His jaw ticked under the mask.

“I don’t trust anyone,” she whispered.

“Good,” he said. “That means you’re not stupid.”

A beat passed. The chandelier hummed above them.

She turned away, but not before he saw the tremble in her hands.

He had to earn her trust. Carefully. Quietly. Not with the truth, because the truth was dangerous. To both of them.

Not yet.

So he watched. And waited. And followed. Like a loyal shadow.

Simon Riley was gone.

There was only Ghost now.

And she didn’t know him.

Not yet.

But soon, she would.

The sun bled orange into the Gulf, casting golden ripples across the water as the massive white yacht sliced through the marina like a predator in silk. Palm Jumeirah, glittering like a crown in the ocean, had seen its fair share of luxury, but even here, the arrival of Don Massimo Toricelli turned heads.

Ghost watched from the top floor of the mansion through a sliver in the blackout curtain. He recognized the yacht, custom-built, three decks, helipad, and a private lounge with imported marble flooring. He’d studied it in the brief.

His yacht, a gleaming, multi-million dollar Leviathan, rocked gently in the turquoise water, tethered just off the private dock of her Palm Jumeirah estate. It gleamed like his ego, always visible, always looming.

Massimo was coming.

And that meant trouble.

The Italian stepped off the yacht with the confidence of a man who owned the world and everything in it. Black suit sharp enough to cut, sunglasses shielding eyes that never missed a detail.

The black Maserati had barely stopped outside the mansion before Massimo Toricelli stepped out, flanked by his two most loyal bodyguards. He wore his usual armour of a designer three-piece suit, sunglasses despite the low golden sun, and that chilling smirk that made Rose’s stomach turn. The man smelled of cologne and control.

He carried a box in his hand. Velvet black. The kind of box that didn’t contain anything simple.

Rose was summoned to the lobby. Always summoned, never invited.

Inside the mansion, Rose was being prepped. She didn’t want to go downstairs, Ghost could see it in her face. Her robe was replaced by a floor-length designer dress, her makeup immaculate. A doll on display.

She descended the marble staircase slowly, her every step echoing in the grand, hollow luxury of the mansion she couldn't escape. The lobby was vast, double height ceilings, Italian chandeliers, crystal vases she didn’t pick, all curated to reflect a life she no longer had control over.

He stood in the corner of the marble lobby, arms crossed, skull mask reflecting the light from the chandelier above. Every nerve in his body burned.

Then the door opened.

Massimo entered like a storm in human skin.

Massimo sat in one of the velvet armchairs like he owned the place. Because he did. Or at least, he owned the cage around her.

"Bellissima," he purred, his voice smooth and poisonous. “Dubai suits you.”

Rose managed a smile, tight, hollow. “Massimo.”

Ghost stood in the corner, near the mirrored console table. He was motionless, silent, a black sentinel in full tactical gear. Skull mask on. Hands behind his back. The perfect blend of menace and restraint.

Massimo glanced at him once, indifferent. "You can leave us."

Ghost didn’t move.

Rose lifted her chin. "He stays."

Massimo gave a faint chuckle and gestured dismissively. "As you wish, tesoro."

He reached into a bag one of his men handed him and pulled out a velvet box.

"Cartier," he said simply, like it was an apology. "For your good behavior."

She took it with stiff fingers, murmured a thank you that made her mouth taste like ash. The necklace inside was encrusted with diamonds. Cold. Lifeless. Like a chain pretending to be a gift.

Ghost’s hands curled into fists in the shadow of his sleeves.

Massimo’s eyes flicked toward him.

“And you must be the new shadow. What do they call you? Phantom? Skull?”

Ghost didn’t move.

“Ghost.”

Massimo chuckled. “Fitting. Let’s hope you’re as loyal as the last one.”

Rose shifted, her discomfort palpable. Ghost could feel it in her silence.

Massimo turned his attention back to her. “I’ve missed you. We’ll have dinner this weekend. I’ll have the chef flown in from Florence. You’ll wear the necklace.”

He leaned in closer, voice a whisper of threat and lust. “Say yes.”

She didn’t answer. Just nodded.

Massimo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You look tired. Are they feeding you well? Are you sleeping?"

Rose said nothing.

He smiled wider. "Still so stubborn. That’s what I like about you. We’ll talk again soon."

Massimo straightened, pleased with himself.

“Until then, cara mia.”

And then he stood. Kissed the air beside her cheek.

Left as quickly as he arrived.

He left the box in her hands and turned, his coat swaying as he walked out. The doors shut behind him.

Only then did Rose exhale.

Ghost stayed still. Watching. Planning. Rage crawling up his spine like wildfire.

He couldn’t move. Not yet.

He hadn’t called Task Force 141.

Because this wasn’t the moment.

But it was coming.

And when it did, Massimo wouldn’t walk away.

The moment the double doors shut and his footsteps faded, she turned and ascended the stairs quickly, almost running.

Ghost followed, his boots quiet behind her.

She reached her bedroom, the velvet box still clutched in her hand like it had burned her.

Once inside, she hurled it across the room. The lid snapped open. The necklace hit the floor with a sharp, cold clatter, scattering light across the marble.

She sat down beside it. On the floor. In her silk gown. Head bowed, fists clenched, tears pooling in her eyes like they had nowhere else to go.

Ghost stood by the door. Watching. Silent.

She didn’t notice when he stepped closer.

Until he knelt down beside her.

"You don't have to do what he says," he said softly.

She looked up, startled.

He reached forward, hesitantly, almost reverently, and wiped the tear trailing down her cheek with a gloved thumb.

Her breath hitched.

And then...

He extended his hand.

Palm up.

The same way she had, years ago, trembling in a glittering gymnasium, her heart in her throat as she offered her hand to a boy who never took it.

"You don't have to deal with this alone," he said gently.

Her eyes widened.

She stared at the hand. At the shape of it. The calloused palm. The curve of his fingers. So familiar.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "Simon...?"

He didn’t say anything at first.

Just nodded.

The silence cracked around them like thunder.

Her lips parted, her chest rising with a thousand emotions she couldn’t name.

He slowly removed the mask.

And there he was.

Simon Riley.

Older. Harder. Scarred. But still him.

His eyes locked onto hers.

"I came back for you, Rose."

And this time, when she took his hand, he didn’t let go.

[aventurineswife]

How do you think sagau or sahsrau would react if the reader painted all the characters {not including the kids } in a suggestive way like a painting of welt and hemiko shirtless and sharing a bed while they have bites and scratches on their shoulders appears in the museum or perhaps a sculpture of the reader pushing fu xuan into a wall (cause they already down what the reader looks like if I'm not mistaken also how would you react if your genshin, hsr or zzz account became self aware

(°^°)

Oh ho ho—if the SAHSRAU SAGAU ever saw suggestive reader-created art of themselves and others... especially displayed publicly in a museum dedicated to you, the Divine Painter? Oh boy. 😈😈😈

Welt: Adjusts his glasses, completely stoic, but you know he’s dying inside. He absolutely avoids eye contact with Himiko (and the others) for the rest of the day. Will never comment on the bite marks.

Himeko: Stares at the painting for a solid five seconds, smirks, and then looks directly at you. "You really think I’d leave bite marks that shallow?"

Dan Heng: Is frozen. Processing. Cannot handle this. Turns away with his ears red and avoids you for three days. Secretly checks on the art at least once more, when no one’s looking.

Fu Xuan: "YOU DID WHAT?" She’s mortified, flustered, fuming—and maybe, maybe a teeny-tiny part of her is just a little proud. She’ll interrogate you under the guise of maintaining her image, but it’s so obvious she’s flustered beyond repair. That statue will mysteriously vanish… only to turn up in her private quarters, heavily veiled.

Silver Wolf: Immediately sets the painting as her phone background. She thinks it’s the funniest thing she’s ever seen and starts spreading it through encrypted meme servers.

Kafka: Examines the artwork closely. "Interesting composition. Lovely detail work on the scratches... tell me, is this from imagination? Or memory?"

Blade: Just glares. And then you notice he’s been standing in front of his own painting—one you don’t remember making—for a while now. Who made that? Why is it way worse?

The Trailblazer: Tries to play it cool, but they're sweating. They keep glancing between the art and you, wondering what exactly this means. Then they realize they don't have one and now they're offended.

As for if my game account became self-aware?

Oh no.

They’d take one look at how often I make them idle in the middle of boss arenas, or how long I go without pulling (gotta save my pulls lol), and they’d roast me alive.

Dan Heng: “Would it kill you to level my Light Cone?”

Silver Wolf: “Why are your relics so cursed? Are you sabotaging the others on purpose?” (Girl, I only have two, leave me alone!😭🙏)

Kafka: “...I noticed how quickly you upgraded Stelle/March. Hm. Interesting.” (It's because she does the most damage and March gives my characters shield, Kafka, I'm sorry for being broke and not pulling for Mydei or Castorice.)

[sunsbaby]

˚₊‧ winchesters x angel tablet.ᐟreader

your existence was anything but needed, only stirring more conflict amidst the fight. coming so quick, you stood in front of the winchesters. full of rage and anger, the encryption carved into your body glowing. power unknown to human-kind caged inside a fragile girl's body.

somehow you held strong, harnessing it all while keeping distance. after all, they kept an angel close by. you would be damned if you set foot near one, you'd send it back to heaven yourself. so, you spent every second, hour, and minute coped up in the bunker.

you could hear the voices, God and metatron. it disturbed you greatly, for you wished to be a tablet again. humans were so..weak. your body could barely contain the power—training, discipline, and near death was what it took to even stay alive.

of course, sam winchester had to give you a name. atarah, he said you were 'crowned.'

you were, definitely, but you didn't trust him enough to give him that knowledge. only you had it, no prophet could ever bestow themselves with everything you once had written out on you. and you found solace in that. you were once a key feature, and now you're the last piece in the puzzle to victory.

it'll stay that way, forever.

sam and dean were weighed down with all this angel tablet and demon tablet stuff, especially with you now being human. even then you didn't cooperate, you stood your ground and kept away from them. it didn't help that when they brought castiel around—to help possibly decipher you—they could never find you.

you were like a thorn, prickly and no help at all.

sunny yaps! FINALLY SOMETHING FOR ANGEL TABLET!READER ITS VERY SHORT BC I LOWK HAVE NOOO MOTIVATION 😔

special tags! @bluemerakis @littlesoulshine @h8aaz @bejeweledinterludes @lunaleah

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[marwhoa]

request: hi hil! I read your work and it was amazing! I was hoping you would write the rise boys with a vigilante s/o? (Gn) but the boys don't know that yet and one day s/o is fighting the foot or someone, you decide, then their turtle bf shows up and helps them. S/o forgot they were in costume for a minute before running to their turtle in shining shell and kissing them, so it turns into a whole thing and s/o unmasks themself, how do the boys react??

🝮 “ violet virus ”

rise!donnie x vigilante!g/n

author’s note: eeee !! Gosh I’ve been meaning to post for months, but multiple x readers always stump me. I like making each a completely different story, and sometimes that ends up with me writing waaaay too much. So! I separated this one into a solo. Raph Mikey and Leo will be their own post since I imagine they’ll be much shorter… unless I’m a little freak again and write too much 😭😭. Sheldon’s speech will be the same color as Donnie’s but in italics :))

word count: 4.5k

“ I don’t understand why you won’t disclose this information, Shelldon. ”

Grumbles the turtle clad in purple as he sits on the floor of his lab. Tools are strewn around within reaching distance, framing him, Shelldon, and the computer plugged into the robot boy. The screen displayed a long history of access points to Shelldon’s database—none of which Donnie had the clearance for.

Odd.

A little sigh plays from the little bot’s speakers as his digital eyes shift elsewhere.

“ The information you seek is, like, confidential, dude! ”

“ Whuh—not only are you keeping secrets from your father, but you would even ‘dude’ your own father?! Poppycock! ”

Frustrated, Donnie throws his hands in the air, eyes fixated on the display screen. Error sounds growled through the computer’s speakers each time his program attempted to break through its encryption.

Just who could write an encryption code that could thwart even Donnie?

“ It just makes no sense. As not only your father but also creator, I should have complete access to any and all of your databases. Is this a rebellious development, update 1.2?! ”

Shelldon rolls over, groaning out in annoyance. He couldn’t just flat-out tell him, “ oh papà! you mustn’t worry, i am only hiding the identity of a certain vigilante you’ve yet to encounter! “, no, no, that would be absurd.

That would be a betrayal to you, Donnie’s kindhearted significant other who just couldn’t stand for the Purple Dragons’ treatment towards your dearest darling dear. I mean, what partner would stand on the sidelines as a measly cheerleader in the face of someone daring to disrespect YOUR boyfriend? Quite literally the smartest man alive (probably)?

It didn’t help your case that you were pretty powerless, aside from some scrounged-up determination, a pinch of courage, and a heavy dosage of computer expertise. Nothing up to par with Donnie, but it was remarkable by human’s standards. Combine that with the help of a sentient robot named Shelldon, and you were a force to stand on equal footing with that malicious group of super-nerd-punks.

Watching Donnie writhe with frustration, Shelldon can’t help but hope his walls were stronger than his father’s.

“ Maybe it’s nothing to worry about, bro, let’s just—“

“ Nothing to worry about—/nothing to worry about/— oh, it’s nothing to worry about, he says! “

A ding resonating from Shelldon draws Donnie’s attention for a second. His frustration churns, flashing into curiosity. It seems as though some sort of distress message has came through, but with a chime unlike what he’s programmed. Donnie drops his head with a laughter akin to a parent reaching their breaking point.

“ Oh-ho-ho, dear son of mine, ”

Mouth open, ready to retort with a snarky tone, Donnie raises his head up but holds his tongue at the sight.

An uncharacteristic silence blankets the robot-boy. Shelldon’s eyes begin to flicker until they beam with deep, velvety-purple hue.

Donnie flinches, shielding his eyes from the bright LEDs as he pointed and snapped his fingers.

“ AH-HAH! See, I knew it. This IS a problem! ”

Shelldon rises to his feet and turns robotically before then breaking into a brisk sprint. The cord plugged into him snatches the laptop a few feet before it ultimately yanks from Shelldon’s socket. Before Donnie could call him to return, his son shifts to quite literally propelling himself out of the lair from the rocket launchers in his feet.

Coughing and waving away the residual smoke, Donnie squints at Shelldon’s rapidly disappearing silhouette. He groans exasperatedly as his hands pull at nonexistent hair.

“ Damn it, I knew he wasn’t old enough to have those installed, Shelldon!! ”

Grabbing his tech-bo, Donnie wasted no time in following right after him.

——-

While your poor partner-in-crime found himself under his father’s interrogation, you are none-the-wiser as your fingers skirt across a keyboard. Your purple gloves whir quietly as they accelerate the computer’s performance—the faster you get out, the better. The display’s light shone on your outfit, one befitting a vigilante’s need for secrecy. Your hair was held back by a bandana while your face was obscured by a half-mask from the bridge of your nose to your jaw. A pair of glasses rested upon it with a little purple ‘ D ‘ logo in the corner.

A long sleeve turtle neck covered your arms and torso with angular purple lines following the underside of your arms and down your sides, tucked into a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring waist. The pants tucked into a sturdy pair of boots, all matching with black and purple. If the light caught you in the right way though, then the faintest detail of smaller purple embellishment akin to the lines running along a modem board would shimmer.

That was a detail you were most proud of, albeit purely cosmetic.

But never mind that, you manage to squirrel your way into a hub room of sorts with large metal cabinets filled to the brim with wirings, likely powering the entire lair. The floor occasionally lit up with the rush of purple LED lights pulsing through thin indents on the floor. You didn’t know what information they carried or to where, but that was not your current concern.

“ Alright, Dragons, what are you looking for with the OKE YX23 system’s blueprints… ”

You whisper to yourself. As streams of data rapidly scroll across the screens, you soak it all up through a pair of modified glasses. They accelerate your comprehension and store databases chock full of what you saw in seconds. It was a neat gadget born of your own genius, albeit with just a bit of help from your beloved Donnie.

“ Supersuits? Why super… ”

Squinting, you slow your feverish typing pace and pinch your fingers on the projected hologram to zoom in and section off a few documents. Blueprints upon blueprints flood your senses, designs for all types of suits, each fully equipped for specific situations calling for varying levels of strength, agility, dexterity, and more. A few documents even detail their uses, discussing ideal fantasies of potential war use.

“ No… No way! This is.. I have to send all this data over to Shelldon. ”

Removing your glasses, you tap the shell icon at the top corner of the left lens to send it all to your partner in crime, Shelldon. As a low chime resonates from the glasses, confirming a successful message delivered, you stare at the purple D logo. Your thumb strokes it fondly as you purse your lips in contemplation.

“ Once I’m done with these dragons, maybe… Maybe it’s time to tell him who I am.. ”

You idle for a moment, your free hand balling in and out of a fist beside you. Wracking your head for answers, your thumb began to stroke the pad of your folded index finger as a sort of grounding measure.

“ … For now, I’ll put a pin in that, I need to figure out how to get out of here. ”

As you shift away from the computer to head out, a loud clanging of the door being forced shut in front of you was enough to set off alarms in your head. Paling, you click your boot’s heel against the cold metal floor a few times. There, you had planted one of your small gadgets to allow quick and easy hacking. It was an attempt to connect and override the system to get the door open, but as you’re met with nothing save for the soft thuds of your foot, a heavy pressure weighs on your chest.

They must have found you out. How long have they known you were here?

Goosebumps scurry along your arm as you look over your shoulder for the compressed hiss of doors mechanically sliding open. Previously hidden doors pulled apart to reveal a hidden hallway and a bot stepping through, its digital gaze settled on you while its heavy footfalls shook the room.

“ Ohhhh noooo… ”

Dragging out the syllables, the blueprints you just saw on the screen were currently whirring to life before you. At the sound of a grating, familiar cackle playing through the contraption’s speakers, your blood chills.

Not good.

“ Looks like a rat slipped through the cracks. ”

You could recognize her voice anywhere. What’s your escape route now? Have they closed all of them off? God, you did not prepare for a fight today—that was NOT on the itinerary!

“ Perfect opportunity to see what these puppies can do though. ”

Fully facing the super-suit occupied by Kendra, you take a hesitant step back as your eyes scan the room. They land on a rather ordinary looking door on your far left, equidistant to you both. The chance to get some distance is all too tempting.

Unfortunately, just as your foot raises to break into a bolt, an “ ah, ah, ah~ ” taunts through the mech’s speaker as it sends a projectile whisking past you with a high pitched pachoo! The object sparks against the wall it strikes and ignites instantly. You can’t help the spike in fear shooting through you internally as the blast destroys part of the room and sends debris flying.

With barely a chance to gather your bearings, your gaze raises helplessly as the bulky suit Kendra was operating closed the gap between you both and slammed a heavy fist towards you. It strikes the ground with a heavy THUMP, leaving a dent that was barely off enough to feel comfortable. You raise your hand to the purple logo on your glasses that sends an S.O.S. distress call to your man-in-the-chair, Shelldon.

Scrambling to get away, you lunge towards one of the wire-filled cabinets palms-first in an attempt to hack and utilize some to your advantage. Before your program fully engaged, you’re yanked away full-force and sent skidding across the floor. In your peripheral you notice two more of these suits enter the room. This is hardly the time to get distracted, you scold yourself, glancing back to Kendra in a nick of time.

“ Shit, shit, shit, shit!! ”

You scream, narrowly dodging a shrapnel of metal whisking past your ducked head and embedding itself into the opposite wall.

“ ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! ”

Through a dramatic display of physical prowess, you screech and lunge every which way to avoid each zipping attack the bot sends towards you. To make matters worse, two more robotic suits emerge from behind the first.

“ That could’ve killed me, you runts! ”

Glaring, you turn your gaze to the maniacally laughing trio of super-nerds, donning what appeared to be the exact same super suits in the documents, all said to be powered by an all-too-powerful AI-chip. The suits’ reflexes are swift n’clean, ran by a superior digital brain that seems to be predicting all your movements even before you know them. In any other circumstances, you would have marveled in their presence.

However, right now it serves as too-great of a foe for you alone. In a pathetic display to keep up, you try to stand your ground against the super suits in a recipe of chaos that ends with you cornered and exhausted.

“ Now, now, Violet Virus,”

The leader, Kendra, steps towards you in a suit designed for strength. It’s bulky, intimidating, and an overall pain. You almost wonder if sheer artillery built into that suit was enough to single-handedly replace an entire army.

Behind her stood Jeremy in a suit built for speed—it’s racing LEDs left you dizzy if you stared too long and was designed to reach speeds fast enough that the residual shock alone might be enough to give your eardrums a hell of a jolt. Its fit was slim and sharp, fitting for the purpose.

Last is Jason, who..

Well..

He didn’t have some flashy suit for some reason.

Honestly, it seems more like just a prop suit. You didn’t even know if it did anything—to be frank, it kind of looked like they picked it up at Spirit Halloween.

“ You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. ”

Kendra’s suit thuds towards you, crouching in front of you. Her robotic hand reaches out to grip your chin between the thumb and index.

“ But that’s all I’ll give you. “

You’re starting to get antsy, mentally begging Shelldon to hurry up in helping you out of this ordeal. In the mean time, you muster the meanest glare, peering through the visual retinas of the machine. The speaker picks up her low scoff.

“ Well, maybe I should reward our little idiot for that signal to our friend,Othello von Ryan. ”

The boys behind her share a laugh in response.

“ … Who? ”

Confused, you yank from her grip, teeth bared in disgust. As powerless as you are to super-suits, an idiot was no where near appropriate to describe you. In fact, to say you were a vigilante with nothing but your boyfriend’s robot under your belt was a lie.

See, your outfit was littered with all types of covert gadgets. This included a pair of gloves and boots to match with dull, illuminated swirls under the pads of your fingers and heels of your feet. Within those swirling pools of light happened to be lie dozens of little terminals awaiting for your command to reshape and hack into any dormant or idle appliances and tech within range.

Pinned to the ground in a sitting position, your hands laid palms down on either side of your body and feet flat to carry out the rest of this operation. So long as they keep their focus on you, they will be completely blind-sided by your retaliation. Inaudible over the commotion, a low groan of circuitry in the walls bowed as your programs seep into their systems.

“ I don’t know who that is, but you’re crazy if you think this battle is in any of your favors! ”

You growled out as the ceilings cave from serpentine cables raining sparks haphazardly. Your program had sent a sort of “ suicidal-sentience ” command through nearby wires that influenced them to rip apart and focus an assault on the super-suits.

Kendra growls in annoyance as metal panels from above knock her to the ground. The limbs of her robotic suit are then coiled up by the snake-like wires. She turns to see a similar fate befalling Jason.

But not Jeremy.

“ Oh, but it is in my favor. ”

Kendra cocked her head in Jeremy’s direction, grinning with an energy that sent shivers down your spine. His suit was equipped with speeds your program couldn’t fathom keeping up with, and as his suit whipped to your side before you could try to run, you were struck and pinned flat against the floor.

“ That was a clever yet feeble attempt. See, we know all about your assets. ”

Kendra recovers quick as she moves her suit to rip the cables off her.

“ … What assets!?”

You kick your legs, trying to get free. Just how much do they know? What do they know? What or which assets could they mean? You hold your tongue in fear of spilling information to potential bluff.

Amidst your confusion, Kendra doesn’t seem too impressed. She might have burst a fuse if not for Jeremy clearing his throat and intervening.

“ What she means, Violet Virus, is we intercepted your help signal. ”

The hair on the back of your neck rose up.

That explains the lack of indication from Shelldon that he received your signal. Your expression sours with worry. What use did they have with him? And wait, Othello von Ryan—

“ You didn’t honestly think you could serve any sort of threat to us, right? Had you even considered that we—practical GENIUSES of the modern technological age—may not have planned to stop at these suits? ”

—Wasn’t that one of Donnie’s aliases?

Kendra roughly shoves Jeremy aside as she crouches back down to eye-level with you. In this moment, you begin to entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe—

“ Your naïveté is sickeningly cute, Vivi, this wasn’t our goal. ”

—you might have bitten off more than you can chew.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Panic was washing over you.

With ice coursing through your veins, you thought about calling Donnie. Maybe if you confess everything about being Violet Virus, he’ll come help?

Or, would he be mad that you kept such a secret and did something so reckless by yourself? A heat wells up in your chest, igniting a fight with the chills. Flashes of hot and cold ran over you as the pieces fell into place.

How long have they known you were working with Shelldon?

Did they let you sneak in this far?

Were you just a stepping stone to get Shelldon?

…

Do they know your identity?

Your mouth dries at that notion. You need to hurry and turn these tides, but before you could put any plan forth, the wall beside you crumbles as a familiar short stature burst through.

The little robot gave heavy thuds as his feet rose and fell against the floor without any personality.

How did everything go so wrong?

“ Shelldon? “

Tone low, hardly loud enough to even be a whisper, you stared wide-eyed at a robot without a twinge of the boy you knew.

“ Shelldon’s not his name anymore, Violet Virus. ”

Kendra’s suit rises above you then moves to tower beside Shelldon. She raises her mechanical hand and rests it firmly on his shoulder.

“ This is Pulverizer now! ”

A series of “ no’s ” fall from your lips as you scramble to your feet and close the gap between you and Shelldon. Your hands tremble around him, unsure where to rest while Kendra breaks down in laughter beside you both.

You could see the computing of some program flickering behind Shelldon’s eyes, indicated some software actively downloading. He remained unfazed by your presence.

“ Shelldon, no, no, no, what are they doing to you?! I have to get you out of here, I’m so—“

“ Pulverizer, engage combat program ZG.09X, ”

Kendra interjects, barking some sort of command. You glance to her then back to Shelldon, baffled as he seems to respond only to that and not any of your efforts. Your eyes widen as his arm begins reeling back.

“ What did they do to y—“

A quick thwack interrupts you as Shelldon socks you across the jaw with a force so heavy it sends you to the floor a few feet. The hit cracked and crumbled part of your mask as bits of it sprinkle the path from Shelldon to where you’d landed. Your glasses had been slightly bent from your head knocking against the floor. The pain throbs through your skull, ebbing from the cheek your hand rose to caress in disbelief.

“ D-Donnie.. ”

As you stared at Shelldon thunking towards you, you couldn’t help but tremble and wish you weren’t alone. This was too much for you, and you found yourself imagining what it would have been like if you had teamed up with Donnie in the beginning instead of being a solo-hero.

Shelldon reels his arm back again, and you raise yours in a feeble attempt to shield yourself.

Shutting your eyes tight, you brace for the impact.

“ SHELLDON, PROTOCOL BOGEY-DOWN 61E9 ACTIVATE! ”

“ What—!? ”

Kendra whips her head around towards the same entrance Shelldon initially created.

You stare wide eyed as your boyfriend bursts in and shouts a command to Shelldon. His dramatic entrance is punctuated by him riding his tech-bo like a hoverboard.

Donnie jumps off, landing straight into Kendra’s mech with enough force to topple it over. He casts a glance in your direction, squints with suspicion, but then turns back to Kendra.

“ I knew it—SEE, I knew it! ”

The purple-banded turtle paces in front of the dazed Kendra, throwing his hands up in frustration. He stops to point back and forth between Shelldon and the rest of the Purple Dragons.

“ Who else could be meddling with MY son’s database but this group of wannabes! “

“ W-Wannabes? Othello von Ryan, this is whe.. damn.. ”

Winded, Kendra takes a pause to catch her breath. Jason tries to come and help her up but gets swatted away immediately. Angrily, she huffs and operates the suit to shove itself back onto its feet.

“ Get AWAY from me, Jase, UGH! Othello Von Ryan, prepare to be defeated by our revenge! Pulverizer, engage combat program ZG.734! ”

She cackles maniacally, jabbing a finger in Donnie’s direction. When Shelldon doesn’t move, the speaker goes quiet for a few beats.

Then, it starts playing a bunch of loud clanks, likely from Kendra frustratedly hitting things inside the suit.

Donnie, however, glances at Shelldon then back at Kendra and stomps his foot. He points an accusatory finger in her direction.

“ Oh by Galileo, if you lot did anything nefarious to Shelldon’s programming, so help me! ”

Sheldon’s fist wavers a few inches from you as different lines of code scroll past his eyes, registering the command Donnie called out. After hearing Kendra’s command, the lines of code began rapidly switching direction until a click resounds. He blinks a few times then looks down at you.

“ No! Damn it, what happened!? ”

Kendra pummels the ground enough times to leave a hefty dent.

Donnie scoffs at her, crouching to stare into the visual receptors of the mech-suit.

“ I see you did not consider I may have created an anti-dragons program with the idea that you would want to control my tech again, did you? ”

As Shelldon came back to his senses, he glanced every which way in confusion. One second he was being interrogated, the next..

“ Your distress signal! Y/—I mean, Violet Virus, bro, what’s the haps? How’d I get here? Ohh, Donnie’s gonna be so pissed at me, dude, he almost found out ab—“

You gawk at Shelldon’s loud voice, shushing him loudly. Whispering, you quickly scold him.

“ Shelldon! We can discuss it later, but right now we need to get out of h—“

As you gesture to leave, you are instead met with Donnie being sent flying straight into you. Your foreheads collide as you’re sent back against the ground with him dazed over you.

“ Technologically advanced mecha suits is an upgrade from our last encounter, I’ll give you that! ”

One of Donnie’s hands rests beside your head while the other holds his forehead, rubbing where you both collided. He groans in pain.

Similarly, you hold both hands against your forehead and writhe dramatically beneath Donnie at the pain echoing from not just your lower jaw where Shelldon struck you, but your forehead too now.

“ Ow, ow, oww! Donnie, that… that.. hurt.. ”

Your voice peters off as you look up at him. The fear was already beginning to melt away as your eyes scan across his face. He had such an uncanny habit of coming when you called, and this situation was no different. As relief washes over you, you forget yourself for a second and reach to give him a kiss. You’re just so lucky to have someone so dependable as him, even in situations where he didn’t mean it. You vow to tell him everything after this.

As your hands cup the sides of his face, Donnie opens his eyes to see you leaning in.

“ Whoa—HEY? ”

Mechanical limbs splay out of his shell and quickly put distance between you and him, stirring a squeak of surprise from you as he stares at you bewildered.

“ I don’t know you! This is a complete violation of personal space and my individual rights! ”

He shouts in disbelief, covering himself like a woman caught naked.

… Oh..

Oh yeah.

Your face flushes with embarrassment instantly. Right now you aren’t Donnie’s girlfriend, but rather Violet Virus. You stand up, ready to explain yourself, only to be immediately knocked back down to your knees as an explosion from another one of Kendra’s projectiles goes off behind you. Donnie’s attention shifts from you to the Purple Dragons.

“ What sort of looney tries to kiss stranger during combat, he exclaims in disbelief! ”

Donnie vents aloud as he twirls his tech-bo around his body. Generating enough speed from the action, he then lunges towards Kendra. Right before he strikes, his index taps a button on the shaft of the swirling bo. Its speed increases as the tip shifts into a hammer-like shape and propels like a rocket to clock Kendra’s super-suit mech across the face. The strike is heavy enough that the robot’s head twists and twists the wrong direction until it pops clean off.

“ No, it’s not like that—and don’t call me a looney! Just, you know me! ”

“ No I don’t! The nerve of some people. I feel the need to add I am a happily taken man! “

You stumble over your words as you try to explain yourself. Slamming your palms against the floor, you inject another offensive virus into the room’s system as your glasses accelerate your visual capacities to keep up with Jeremy’s suit. Just as the program goes into effect, you’re pulled back as Jason’s arm catches your neck in his elbow.

He pulls you back, choking you as the program sets loose through the wires held in the cabinet. The cables surge out and land upon Jeremy’s suit, connecting to ports and lighting it up with enough power to overload and shut down the entire contraption. He gets lit up like a Christmas tree for a second before the suit slams into the ground non-responsive.

You hear a low ‘ damn it! ‘ from inside his suit.

Kicking your feet to try and be free from Jason’s grip, you’re let go only after Shelldon lands one of his heavy, rocket-powered punches to send the boy across the room. Even though he’s an enemy, you wince sympathetically at how much that must’ve hurt.

“ Thanks Shelldon.. ”

You murmur, rubbing your neck. Shelldon beams with pride towards you until Donnie steps between you both. His mechanical spider limbs shooting out once more to make some distance between you two.

" I’d appreciate you not fraternizing with the enemy, Shelldon. ”

He steps away from you and closer to Shelldon.

“ But Donnie, Violet Virus isn’t the enemy! ”

“ Yeah, I’m not an enemy, Donnie, just listen to me for a second! ”

“ Firstly, Shelldon, you’re on a friendly name basis with this fiend?! And secondly, Violet Virus, how do you know who I am? Does my reputation exceed me, I wonder? ”

He pauses for a moment to think to himself, likely basking in the idea of his popularity reaching farther, then shakes away the thought. Donnie takes a few steps closer to you with an intimidating air.

“ This is no good, no, no. Violet Virus, might it have been you who— Hold on. ”

As his gaze fixates on your glasses, you sharply suck in a breath by accident. Coughing, everything you wanted to say caught up too quick for even a single word to slip out. You needed to tell him! What will he think, that you’re a thief?

“ Wait—“

“ How do you have that, that’s.. Wait. ”

He crosses his arms, tapping his index against his bicep as he circles around you. Donnie stops in front of you, hums something mid-thought, then cracks a smile.

“ Ah, I get it now. How clever you are, my dear. ”

“ What? ”

You hesitate as he closes the gap between you both. His face softens as his hands make quick work of sliding your broken mask off. Without needing to explain a word, it seems he made quick work of who you were.

“ So this is what you’ve been up to.. Why? ”

His hand caresses your cheek.

“ I… Wanted to get back at the Purple Dragons—for you.. ”

Donnie cracks a bigger grin and chuckles, leaning a bit to plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

“ We can discuss this when we get home, then. ”

[supercorpkid]

I Forget You Aren't Mine 2

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!, Kara Danvers x Reader!, Alex Danvers, Brainy, Lex Luthor.

Word Count: 3.2k

Notes: Read part 1 here! Last part coming soon!

Turns out contacting Lena wasn't the hardest part of the plan. The real challenge is keeping it a secret. Lex has eyes and ears everywhere. 

He brought his sister here with all of her memories, because he wanted her to suffer—to watch you with another woman, to fight and feel for something already lost. Like it was all just a game. A game he would be the only winner. Every time you think you're making progress, you realize you've actually taken two steps back.

You've resorted to clandestine meetings, coded messages, and using Brainy's intricate network to bypass Lex's surveillance. Each time you think you've found a secure channel, a subtle anomaly alerts Brainy to a hidden monitoring program. It’s like trying to navigate a maze where the walls are constantly shifting, and Lex seems to know every turn before you take it.

This afternoon, you find yourselves huddled in the back of a dimly lit, near-empty coffee shop—one Alex swore was a blind spot in Lex's network. Brainy is hunched over a laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration. Alex paces restlessly, one hand resting on the holster at her hip. Kara sits stiffly beside you, arms folded, jaw set, her eyes flicking between you and the others. The stale scent of burnt coffee mingles perfectly with the metallic tang of fear.

"He's anticipating our every move," Alex mutters, voice low. "It's like he's reading our minds."

"Or, and more realistically," Brainy says, voice flat, "he has access to our neural pathways."

Oh yeah, way more realistic. The implication settles like a weight in your chest. Lex isn’t just rewriting memories—he’s inside your head, predicting your next step before you even take it.

"We need a new approach," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "Something he won’t expect."

"Like?" Alex asks, eyes sharp.

"Maybe we should try Lena’s old encrypted channels?" Kara suggests, surprising you. "If she used them before, maybe they’ll be harder to track. Having access to it would give us an advantage."

"That is a logical suggestion," Brainy says, fingers flying over the keyboard. "However, accessing Lena’s previous encryption keys would require infiltrating Lex’s network in person."

"So, we’re back to square one," Alex sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"Not necessarily," Lena’s voice crackles through Brainy's modified datapad—the only safe line of communication left. You nearly forgot she was there at all. "What if we create a distraction? Something big enough to draw Lex’s attention away from us?"

Kara's jaw tightens at the sound of Lena's voice, her eyes narrowing. "What kind of distraction?" 

"Something that will make him think he’s already won," you murmur, the thought forming even as Lena speaks. A slow, knowing smile tugs at your lips—because you understand exactly where she’s going with this.

Beside you, Kara realizes the same and frowns harder.

"That would require us to know what he wants most," Brainy muses. "And to make him believe he has it."

"Lex wants recognition. Power," Lena says after a pause. "He wants the Kryptonians, the DEO, everyone bowing to him. He mentioned something about the two Supers being a ‘prize.’ If we can get Superman and Supergirl to honor him publicly, to give him some ridiculous award, the whole world will see him as the most powerful being alive."

"And why would I do that?" Kara’s arms cross tightly over her chest, her glare like steel.

It’s been a week since this whole thing started. By now, you know exactly what to say to get Kara on board. She just needs to be sure—sure that this isn’t about Lena, that she’s the one you love. That even if all of this is just some sick joke from a sociopath, you’ll still love her when it’s over.

"Because this won’t work without you." Your hand slides under the table, fingers brushing her thigh before giving it a light squeeze. “Babe, we can't win if Supergirl isn't on our team. I can't do this without you.”

Kara's eyes search yours, scanning for any trace of doubt. But the thing is, you're 100% honest about this. So she breathes in deep, exhales slowly, and then her lips find the curve of your neck. “Not fair,” she murmurs against your skin. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

You smile. At the fact that you got what you wanted and at the knowledge that Kara loves you enough to help you even when she doesn’t really want to.

Lena’s voice crackles through the datapad, cutting through the moment like a blade—almost as if she’s trying to shut your interaction with Kara down before it can go any further.

"It’s only going to work if Kara, Clark, and the director of the DEO are there, front and center."

All eyes turn to Alex, knowing she’s just as likely as Kara to hate this plan. There’s a beat of silence before she exhales sharply. "Fine. I'll do it."

"And while they're playing his twisted game," Brainy interjects, already typing at lightning speed, "Y/N, Lena, and I will attempt to access Lena’s old encrypted channels. We can use the distraction to mask our activity."

Kara’s head snaps up, her expression instantly darkening. "Absolutely not. Y/N is not going to be involved in this. It’s too dangerous."

"Babe, I'll be fine," you reassure her, taking her hand. "I have the watch. If anything goes wrong, I'll call you immediately."

"And I will be monitoring the situation from a safe distance," Brainy adds, calm as ever. "I will alert you to any anomalies."

"You won't even be there? So it’ll be just Y/N and Lena…" Kara argues, her voice tight with worry, knuckles white clenched into fists. "I don’t like it. What if this is a setup? What if she—"

"Kara." You and Lena say it in unison.

You stop immediately, realizing how much it's going to irritate her that you and Lena are in sync. Lena, however, presses on. "I’m in the same situation as you all. You think if Lex catches me working with you against him, he’ll let it slide?"

Alex steps in, her hand landing on Kara’s shoulder in a grounding touch. "We’ve talked about this. This only works if we trust each other."

"Yeah, yeah, but still—” Kara hesitates, her eyes darting between you and the datapad, “Y/N doesn’t have superpowers. If she gets caught—"

"I can get us in and out unnoticed." Lena interjects through the datapad. "I've been studying the floorplans."

"And I'll teach Y/N how to shoot," Alex adds. "Basic self-defense, just in case."

"Thank you," you say, squeezing Kara’s hand for emphasis. "See? It'll work. We just have to stick together."

Kara exhales sharply, clearly unconvinced but outnumbered. "Fine. But if anything happens to you—"

"Nothing will," you cut in gently. "We’ll be careful."

"We need to time this perfectly," Brainy says, eyes locked on his laptop. "The distraction and our access attempt must happen simultaneously."

"And we need to make sure Lex believes the ‘prize’ is real," Alex muses. "It has to be convincing."

"We’ll stage an event," Lena says, her voice clear despite the distortion. "Something that plays into his ego. A public display of… submission."

Alex nods, determination flashing in her eyes. "Then let’s get to work. We don’t have much time."

Alex teaches you how to shoot a gun. You wouldn’t say it’s your favorite thing in the world. The weight of it feels wrong against your body. A cold, heavy reminder of the necessity of all this. Sometimes you wish none of it was necessary. Sometimes you even wonder if you should’ve let it go—because Kara was right. You were happy. Your suburban life with a superhero, perfectly crafted, progressing like clockwork. Like a TV show.

Damn it.

"Hey." Kara’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, warm and grounding. She steps in behind you as you gather your things, her hands finding the dimples at the small of your back, pressing gently before sliding up to squeeze your waist. You don’t turn, not yet—not when she leans in, front pressed to your back, pressing a kiss on your neck, slow and deliberate.

"Are you sure about this?" she murmurs. "I don’t want you in any kind of danger."

"You have to trust me." you whisper, your resolve faltering when her lips trail to the spot just behind your ear—the one that makes your knees go weak.

"I trust you," she promises, her mouth never leaving your skin. "It’s everyone else I don’t."

"Babe," you try, but then Kara hums, her breath hot against your ear before her tongue flicks a slow stripe down your neck, and suddenly, words don’t exist anymore.

"Stop distracting me with sex," you manage, your hands trembling slightly, as you grip the table, trying to ground yourself. "We have to be at our positions in half an hour."

Kara chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Oh, I can do a lot in half an hour."

She turns you effortlessly, and when you meet her gaze, there’s a hunger there—something dark and possessive, something you hadn’t realized lived inside her.

"Besides," she purrs, hands slipping beneath your waistband— "I’m not distracting you. I’m reminding you."

"Reminding me of…?" you echo, barely breathing.

“Who you belong to.”

And shit. Maybe she is right. Maybe this is where you belong and she is the one you belong to. You can't seem to think otherwise while she makes you forget about the impending danger, and her hands and lips make you feel loved and wanted and like the most important person in the universe.

Until Alex's voice crackles through the datapad, yanking you out of the perfect TV show life and shoving you back into reality.

The staged event is underway, a grotesque parody of a surrender ceremony. Kara, Clark, and Alex stand before Lex, their expressions carefully crafted to convey submission. The crowd, manipulated by Lex's technology, roars its approval. You all should have realized he would turn this into a bigger circus than it was already meant to be.

Meanwhile, you and Lena are hidden in the underbelly of LexCorp, navigating a maze of conduits and server rooms while Brainy's voice comes from the datapad.

The space is suffocating—cramped, dark, the scent of ozone and dust thick in the air. You’re pressed tight against Lena, so close you can feel the ghost of her breath against your skin, the way her body aligns with yours in a way that feels too natural. Too familiar.

You try not to think about it. Try not to think about her. About the truth that sits heavy in the back of your mind—the knowledge that she wasn’t lying. That in another life, you were hers.

But your body betrays you. Despite everything, despite the weight of reality pressing in from all sides, warmth curls low in your stomach, a pull that feels instinctual. Wrong. Right. You shove it down, force your focus back to the task at hand, but Lena shifts just slightly, and the way your body reacts makes it painfully clear—

Denying her is impossible.

You swallow deep, ignoring the goosebumps on your arms. This is wrong. This is so very wrong for many reasons, but you can't remember a single one right now.

"I’m glad you wanted to know the truth." Lena whispers, her voice low and husky.

You hesitate, before answering. "I’m not doing this for me," you reply, your voice tight from the lie. "I’m doing this for the whole world whose minds are currently being enslaved by your megalomaniac brother."

"Of course," Lena says, a hint of amusement in her voice. "But you’re here, aren’t you? You’re fighting for what you believe in." Then her voice drops two octaves, so low it makes you shiver. Her eyes locked on yours. “And I think, deep down, you know it's me.”

Lena shifts slightly, the friction sending a sharp jolt of awareness through you. Every nerve in your body is already on edge from the mission, but this—this is something else. The warmth of her breath on your cheek, the way her thigh presses between yours, too perfectly slotted there to be a coincidence, too firm and unmoving—it’s like your body is recognizing something your mind refuses to acknowledge.

You swallow hard, eyes fixed on the dimly lit panel in front of you. Focus. You need to focus.

"You don’t need to tell me what I believe in." you manage, but your voice lacks its usual bite.

Lena exhales a quiet laugh, and the sound brushes against your skin like a touch. "You might not remember me, but I remember everything about you.” The way she says ‘everything’ isn’t casual—it’s weighted, lingering, curling around something unspoken. Something dangerous. “And I think your body remembers me too."

You hadn’t noticed. Your fingers trembling over the console, an unsteady breath leaving you before you can stop it, the goosebumps on your arms. You hadn't realized you were being this obvious.

"Stop it. I'm married, Ms. Luthor," you whisper, but it sounds more like a reminder to yourself than a warning to her. “Please move your leg.”

Lena doesn’t. She doesn’t step back, doesn’t even blink. Instead, her fingers brush against your cheek—light, deliberate—as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. A touch so simple, so meaningless, yet it feels like a test. Like she’s pushing a boundary neither of you should cross.

Your skin burns where she touched you, heat spreading like a slow betrayal. It’s ridiculous—how fast your pulse jumps, how your breath hitches, how traitorous your body feels at this moment.

Because you just had Kara’s hands on you. Kara’s lips on your skin, her voice in your ear, reminding you who you belong to.

But right now, Lena’s looking at you like she could dismantle your entire world with just a breath.

And so help you, God—maybe she already has.

“We’re running out of time,” Brainy’s voice slices through the tension, snapping you back to the present. “We need to access the main server room now.”

Lena nods, but her eyes linger on yours for half a second too long—like she’s searching for something, like she wants to say something. You hope she doesn't. You don't think you can take it. Then, she turns and leads the way.

You follow. Tight corridors, dim lights, the tension between you growing stronger with every step. The heat of her body stays too close, her presence like a ghost of something you’re not ready to name.

When you reach the server room door, Lena stops, pressing a hand to the access panel. She exhales slowly, steadying herself.

“This is it,” she says, voice low. “Once we’re inside, there’s no turning back.”

Your heart pounds. “Let’s do this.”

Lena enters the code. The door slides open with a hiss. Inside, the server room hums with power—walls lined with blinking lights, the air thick with the low buzz of Lex’s control. This is it. The heart of his manipulation. You bite the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to rip every wire out with your bare hands.

Lena and Brainy move fast, fingers flying over the keyboard, lines of code flashing across the monitors. You stand guard, gun raised, eyes locked on the hallway. Every nerve in your body screams to stay alert, to stay ready.

For a moment, it seems like everything is going according to plan.

Then—pain.

White-hot. Blinding. Like a knife slicing through your skull.

The room tilts violently. The lights blur into a sickening kaleidoscope. You stumble, reaching out blindly—gripping at nothing. You try to scream, but no sound comes out. The pain consuming you, devouring you—

Darkness.

A heavy thud echoes through the server room.

Lena spins at the sound, heart slamming into her ribs. Then she sees you.

No. No, no, no.

She’s kneeling beside you before she realizes she’s moved, hands pressing against your throat, searching—begging—for a pulse. There. Faint. But there.

“You’re breathing, darling. I’ve got you,” she whispers, voice trembling. But it’s shallow. Unsteady. Too close to nothing at all.

She grabs your shoulders. “Stay with me, please.”

You don’t respond. Panic claws up her throat, but she shoves it down. You’re alive. But you won’t be for long if she doesn’t get you out of here.

Brainy’s voice crackles in her earpiece. “Lena, what happened? I can’t read Y/N’s vitals.”

“She’s down,” Lena grits out, shaking you gently. Nothing. “Some kind of neural attack. I don’t know if it was Lex’s failsafe or something else, but we need to move. Now.”

“Extraction is impossible without alerting the entire security force.”

Lena clenches her jaw. Not an option.

Her mind races. She can’t carry you through the halls unnoticed. But— Her eyes land on a maintenance hatch in the wall. Tight, but big enough. The ventilation system connects to a sublevel exit Lex never reinforced. No one was supposed to know it existed. She shifts, slipping her arms under you. 

“Sorry, darling,” she mutters. “I know you’d hate this.” 

With surprising strength, she hoists you onto her back in a fireman’s carry. You don’t stir. Your weight presses against her, making it harder to breathe, harder to think. But she doesn’t have time for weakness. 

Lena unlocks the hatch. It pops open with a hiss. She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t think. Just moves. Crawling through the vent with your body slumped against hers is slow, grueling work. Her arms shake, every muscle screaming, but she doesn’t stop. 

Then—just for a second—she pauses. Just to breathe. Just to look at you. No flicker of consciousness. No reaction. She hadn’t realized she was crying. Her hands shake, as she strokes your face lightly, breath hitching. 

“Come on, love. Wake up.” 

Nothing. 

She keeps going. Keeps pushing. Every second stretching into eternity. When she reaches the sublevel grate, she kicks it open and drops down into the dim corridor below. Just a few more turns. Just a little farther. Then, finally—a door. The exit. 

Lena stumbles forward, shifting your weight so she can reach the panel. Her fingers are slick with sweat, but she punches in the code with steady precision. The door slides open. 

Cold night air rushes in. She doesn’t hesitate. Not for a second. She yanks back your sleeve, fingers trembling as she opens the watch on your wrist. The emergency button stares back at her. A silent admission of what she already knows—she can’t do this alone. She presses it. 

Of course she wants to be the one to save you. Of course she wants you to wake up and see her first. But none of that matters if you don’t wake up at all. And right now, you’ve got far better chances with Kara. 

The response is immediate. A sonic boom cracks through the air. Then—Kara is there. A whirlwind of panic and raw power, her eyes already burning as she takes in the sight of you—limp in Lena’s arms. Tear-tracks on Lena’s face. Desperation in her eyes. 

No words are needed. Kara holds you like you might slip through her fingers. Like she's afraid she already lost you. Don't you dare die on us.

And then—she’s gone. Faster than thought. Faster than light. Racing against time itself to save you.

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (Shapeshifter!Sunwoo) 3k, supernatural, shapeshifter, secret agents, cross-dressing, violence, manipulation (@starillusion13)

“Good job on that mission.”

You couldn’t help but smile, grateful and nervous over receiving praise from Hyunjae. He was one of the top agents, and your crush. 

“Thank you…”

“What about me!?” Sunwoo wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “I’m her partner, did I do a good job too?”

“You came back alive. I’d say that’s good.”

“Nice.”

Hyunjae headed off and you tried to keep cool. Although once he was gone you quickly pulled away from Sunwoo and punched his arm.

“What the hell was that!?”

“What? I wanted a compliment too.” Sunwoo huffed. “It’s not my fault you get all nervous around Hyunjae.”

“Shut up!”

“I didn’t say anything wrong. Come on, we have to give our debrief.”

“I know.”

You and Sunwoo made your way to the control room, being greeted by the director of the agency, Sangyeon. You gave your debrief on the mission, and he congratulated you both on a job well done. Then he informed you that the intel you had gathered led right into your next assignment.

“As you know, an encrypted drive with confidential information on this agency was sold on the black market. We tracked the leak, but the drive itself was still missing, until now.” Sangyeon placed some files on the table. “Jefferson Leeds is a high profile businessman, and the current holder of the encrypted drive. Not only that, one of our own was exposed and has been taken hostage by him. Since nothing has been exposed as of yet, it’s safe to assume he hasn’t broken the encryption on the drive. That won’t last so we need to make our move.”

“You want us to go after Leeds and get the drive back?”

“And rescue our fellow agent. Now that we have our target, we can make a move. Although, Mr. Leeds is a powerful man, so this operation must be executed with caution. I’ll leave you with the details, and I want you both ready to move within six hours.”

“Yes, sir.”

You were given the files with the mission data, and the two of you retreated to another room to go over the information and figure out a plan. Leeds was hosting some big party at this private estate the next day. People would be going in and out of his home, so it was your best chance of getting in. The agent taken hostage was confirmed to be at said estate, given that Leeds has been keeping them close.

“Why don’t I just get close to Leeds myself. Tell me, what’s his type?”

“Sunwoo.”

“I’m serious. I could easily be the hottest girl around, or better yet, why not a famous celebrity? I promise I’ve gotten better with heels.”

“Sunwoo-”

“Does he have socials? That usually shows what someone is into.”

Sunwoo was always eager to show off his skills, and you knew they were very handy out in the field. Truth was, Sunwoo wasn’t a normal human. You didn’t have the details, classified information, but he was a shapeshifter. The agency took him in and helped him learn to control his abilities. Of course who wouldn’t want him to be a spy, his powers were suited perfectly for the job. When he was first assigned to you as your partner you didn’t believe him, not until he showed you. For a while you thought you were hallucinating, but it shouldn’t be all that surprising that a super secret agency would have such an agent. You were just an ordinary human, but your partner was something more. It took a while but you two soon got along, becoming friends and working well together.

“Sunwoo, he’s gay.”

“Oh, so no heels then, perfect.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Why don’t I turn into his favorite idol? I’m sure he’d love to meet-”

“No, no, no! We’ve been over this, you can’t be going on missions with the face of a famous person!”

“It’s a private party.”

“So? What if someone there is a big fan of the idol you pretend to be? They’d post about you on social and you’d cause a major incident!”

“What are the chances?”

“Let’s not test that okay. We need to figure out our best way in, and from there rescue the hostage. Intel shows there is a tracker on the drive, but the signal can only be picked up when in close proximity.”

“So we’re basically gonna have to search the whole estate.”

“Maybe not. Leeds could have it on him, and if he’s kept the hostage close, they might know where the drive is.”

“Then our first target is our compromised agent.”

“Exactly. They’ll need immediate extraction once we get to them.”

“Sounds easy enough, but how are we getting into this party?”

“Lucky for you you’ll get to put on a new face, but not a celebrity one.”

“One day you’ll ask me to shift into your favorite idol, and I might just say no.”

“Focus on the mission, please.”

“I know, I know, the mission comes first.”

🖤

The guest list was full of high profile people, so you just had to pick one and take their place. By now it was second nature for Sunwoo to change shape, and you’d be his plus one. You gave your mission outline to the boss, getting his approval and then preparing. Before you knew it you were standing outside the Leeds estate. Sunwoo was in charge of getting you through the door, and just as predicted, you both managed to just walk in. Then you found a quiet place for Sunwoo to shift back, not wanting to continue impersonating someone and risk getting caught as a fake.

You both split up, sticking to the shadows and watching the guests socialize. Your work was cut out for you a bit as there was a big announcement as Leeds made an appearance. From there you saw the hostage, the beautiful woman he had wrapped around his arm. You recognized her as Alya, someone who had assisted you on missions in the past. The first task here was to get her alone so you could talk. You and Sunwoo found each other’s gazes, giving a knowing nod as you began to weave your way through the crowds to get closer. In your own way you managed to get Alya’s attention, and she recognized you.

A few moments later she managed to step away from Leeds, although two bodyguards followed behind her. You watched her and followed as well, keeping a distance. When she went into the ladies room you knew that was your chance. You waited a few moments before making your way over, acting innocent and managing to slip past the guards. From there you found Alya washing up, a relieved smile on her face upon seeing you. The two of you embraced, both happy to see each other.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. The bastard hasn’t really bothered with me once he realized I couldn’t decrypt the drive. I’m just his bargaining chip.”

“Not anymore. We’re here to get you out of here.”

“Me? Isn’t the drive the priority?”

“We can kill two birds with one stone here. Besides, someone needs to borrow your clothes.”

“What?”

On cue another beautiful woman walked in, giving a playful wink and wave before Sunwoo shifted back to his normal self.

“How we doing?”

Not many people knew about Sunwoo, and one of those not in the loop was Alya. She was rightfully confused and shocked.

“What the…”

“I know, he’s a lot, but you’ll get answers later. For now the plan is for Sunwoo to take your place and get close to Leeds. We have a device to locate the drive, and it’s possible Leeds has it on him.”

“Alright, but what about me? Do you need me to wait here?”

“No. You’re getting out of this place. Now switch clothes you two.”

While the two went into a bathroom stall and switched their outfits you went to the window, managing to open it up. You were up on the second floor, and there was enough space on the ledge to allow one to move along the walls. When you looked back you saw two versions of Alya, one in a dress and the other in a slightly saggy suit.

“Alright, Alya, you can get out through here. Walk along the ledge, this side of the building faces the woods, and you know people don’t look up. Head to the right, you should see a black van from above, that’s the rest of the team. They’re waiting for you.”

“It’s gonna be good to get out of here. Are you sure you’ll both be alright?”

“We’ll finish the mission. You get out of here safely.”

“Best of luck.”

“Thanks.”

You made sure Alya made her way out, trusting her skills. Once it was back to just you and Sunwoo, you saw your partner checking himself out in the mirror.

“How do I look?”

“Pretty. Do you still have the tracking device?”

“Yup. I’ll go dance with Leeds and see if he has what we need.”

“Alright, and behave yourself. You and Alya are both agents, but if you cause trouble you’ll mess up the whole operation.”

“I know, I know. Trust me.”

“I do, now go.”

Sunwoo went first, and you waited before making your own way out. You blended back into the party, remaining quiet and in the shadows, always keeping Sunwoo in your view. You did feel bad for him, seeing how touchy Leeds was, probably as a means to embarrass and demean Alya. You just hoped Sunwoo wouldn’t act out. After a while though you and Sunwoo made eye contact and he shook his head. Leeds didn’t have the drive on him. That’s what you were afraid of. If Leeds didn’t have the drive on him, it was likely somewhere in this estate. Sunwoo managed to step away and evade the bodyguards, giving you both a chance to speak in a private corner.

“Are you alright?”

“I wanna punch the guy in the face.”

“Soon. So Leeds doesn’t have the drive?”

“No. It’s not on him.”

“Then where would it be? This party doesn’t take place all over the estate, so some areas are off limits. We can’t just go searching.”

“Well he wouldn’t just put it anywhere. It’s the most valuable thing he has at the moment.”

“Exactly, so he’d protect it.”

“Your point?”

“We need to cause an emergency, evacuate the building. Leeds won’t leave without the drive, so he can lead us straight to it.”

“Ah, clever.”

“Go back to your date, make a mess, I’ll make my own, and remember, we need to make sure this place is evacuated.”

“Ugh, don’t say it like that, but I got you. Have fun.”

“You too.”

After parting ways you headed towards the kitchen. A fire was the best way to evacuate people, and this is where it was. You took in your surroundings and figured out a way to cause a minor explosive. On a delay of course. As you were heading back to the main party you could hear some yelling, seeing that Sunwoo was making himself the center of everyone’s attention. He could handle himself so you found your nearest smoke detector, pulling out a lighter and holding it near the device. Soon alarms started blaring, and some sprinklers were activated. You heard screams followed by rushed footsteps. Considering the guests, many didn’t want to be around when law enforcement showed up.

You stayed back, watching the area clear out. Just as imagined, guards tried to get Leeds to evacuate, but he refused, going against the crowd. You didn’t see Sunwoo anywhere, figuring he slipped away during the chaos and was probably surveilling the scene as you were. Things began to quiet down, only the sound of water and sirens could be heard. You quietly followed Leeds, seeing that he was heading into his study. Once he was in the room you attacked the guards waiting outside, getting them out of your way and quietly opening the door to peek in. From there you could see Leeds opening up a hidden safe, then he pulled out the drive. Now was your time to make a move.

“You’re done!”

You burst into the room, catching Leeds off guard and tackling him to the ground. Even though you had the element of surprise, he quickly composed himself and fought back. He wasn’t gonna get taken down easily. He pocketed the drive and focused all his attention on you. 

“I knew someone had to be lurking around. I suppose two hostages are better than one.”

“It’s over. Return the drive and turn yourself in.”

“Make me.”

“Happily.”

It was never good to underestimate your opponent, but you were feeling particularly cocky at the moment. Your target was within reach, but you forgot that they had kept another agent hostage. You put up a good fight, and they kept up with you. At one point they even got dirty, grabbing something off the desk and hitting you over the head. That threw you off balance and you stumbled back, feeling something slide down your face. You tried to shake it off but your vision was blurring. If you failed now you’d never let it go. Just as you were regaining some composure you heard someone else come in and take down Leeds. Once your eyes adjusted you were in disbelief.

“Hyunjae? What are you doing here?”

“Did you think you wouldn’t have backup?”

Hyunjae managed to pin Leeds and cuff his hands behind his back. Then he reached over to get the drive.

“Here. I believe this is yours.”

“Thank you…”

“Let me see your head.”

Before you could answer Hyunjae pulled you close, examining your head. Being in his presence like this made you nervous, and you tried not to panic or embarrass yourself. Once he was certain you were bleeding he pulled out his handkerchief and pressed it against your wound. 

“Come on, you need medical attention.”

You kept the cloth pressed against your head, Hyunjae pulling Leeds up and dragging him along. Since the operation was a success, the others on standby moved in on the estate. As you made your way out you could see some guests being arrested. This was a good day. You went over to an ambulance, letting one of the EMTs tend to your wound. While that was going on you were approached by the boss.

“Good work. You did a lot of good today.”

“I’m glad.” You held out the drive. “Here you go, sir.”

“Thank you. Get patched up and I’ll see you back at HQ for a debrief.”

“You got it.”

The EMT finished up with you, wrapping a bandage around your head. The injury wasn’t severe so you’d be just fine. You thanked them and then went off to find Sunwoo. You had no idea what he had been up to since you parted ways.

“Another job well done.”

“Oh, Hyunjae, thanks again for your help.”

“I didn’t do much, you handled it all on your own.”

“What? But you…”

Your gaze wandered over as you heard Leeds screaming. That’s when you saw Sunwoo escorting him to the back of a police van. You noticed the suit was missing a handkerchief and looked exactly like the one Hyunjae had been wearing earlier, except now you realized that wasn’t Hyunjae at all.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes… I… I think… I just… I gotta go…”

You needed to get away from everything and everyone so you could think. The mission and everything leading up to it had been fine, but you weren’t sure how you felt about Sunwoo pulling a stunt like that.

“Y/n! Hey, y/n!”

You ignored Sunwoo’s voice, trying to disappear but he caught up to you, catching your arm. You tried to pull away, but only managed a bit before his grip got firm.

“Hey, I was talking to you. What’s wrong?”

“Seriously?”

“… what?”

“Was it funny for you to pretend to be Hyunjae like that?”

“Oh, that. I thought-”

“Why did you do it?”

“Huh?”

“Did you just want to see me get all flustered and stuff?”

“Y/n, it’s not that serious.”

“It is to me!” You snapped. “You know I have a crush on him and you… everyone always asks how I can trust you when you can change your face so easily… I’ve always said your powers don’t make you any less human than the rest of us… but if something like that is funny to you, and to do it in the middle of a serious mission, how am I supposed to trust you after that?”

“I… I’m sorry… I didn’t know you’d get upset like this… I just thought you’d like the idea of having Hyunjae as your partner… even if for a moment.”

“Sunwoo, you don’t need to pretend to be anyone else when you’re with me. I like you just the way you are.”

“It’s hard to believe that when you could look like someone else… you could easily ask me to make your fantasies come true…”

“I don’t want that. And if you ever turn into Hyunjae again, I will kick your ass.”

Sunwoo chuckled. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try it.”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it. Shall we get out of here?” Sunwoo held his hand out to you. “I know there’s a nice place not too far from here.”

“Sure. You took his hand. “I could eat.”

You were still a bit upset, but you knew Sunwoo had a good heart. At least you’d trust he wouldn’t do such a thing again and deceive you.

“I do find it odd that you’ve never asked me to turn into someone for you.”

“Like I said, I like you for you, there’s no need to ask you to be fake. So please don’t do that.”

“That makes me happy to hear… I’ll do my best to always be myself when with you.”

“Good. That’s the only Sunwoo I wanna hang out with.”

[sylusonychinus]

Before the Vows

It started with blood.

Not a metaphor—real blood, slick and warm and seeping between Sylus's fingers as he stumbled into her clinic after a gunfight. His usual guy had gone dark. Nezu was the backup’s backup. Untraceable. Quiet. Unaffiliated.

She didn’t ask who he was. But she knew.

Everyone in Linkon knew who he was.

The man who walked into her space that night was the most dangerous person in the city. Black jacket. Gloves off. Gun tucked under his arm. Wounded, but still standing. Still watching her like she was the only unknown in a city he had memorized.

“You going to stare at me or stitch me up?”

“You going to pass out or ruin my floors?”

That made him smirk.

He didn’t pass out. She patched him up. And when he left, she thought that was the end of it.

It never was.

They kept finding each other.

A call here. A knock at her door at 3AM. A familiar figure waiting outside her building, cigarette glowing in the dark.

And every time, it was the same: he was bruised, battered, unbreakable.

Except with her.

With her, he sat down. Let her touch him. Let her see the cracks in his armor.

He never said thank you. Not out loud.

But he started bringing her things—protective, annoying, thoughtful things.

A better security system. A phone with encryption. A pistol she refused to touch (and that he secretly knew she’d learn to use).

One day, she came home to find one of his men sitting in a car across the street.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she hissed at Sylus over the phone.

“Good,” he said. “He’s not a babysitter. He’s a shield.”

The first time she saw him kill someone—

It wasn’t planned. She had walked in on a job gone sideways. Gunfire. Screams. And Sylus—cold and efficient—putting a bullet between someone’s eyes before she could say his name.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t run.

He turned to her, face unreadable. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“I can handle myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

That night, he kissed her.

It wasn’t soft. It was desperate.

Loving Sylus meant learning how to breathe around danger.

It meant canceled plans and shadowy meetings and half-spoken truths. But it also meant being the only person who saw him when the world only saw a monster.

He didn’t trust anyone.

But her? He trusted her with everything—his wounds, his fears, the rare nights he couldn’t sleep and would sit at the edge of her bed like he didn’t know how to stay.

And she let him. No questions. No pressure.

Just quiet. Just presence.

He never called her his girlfriend.

Not once.

Instead, he’d say things like:

“Don’t open the door unless it’s me.”

“Call if anything feels off.”

“Stay alive, Nezu.”

That was his version of I love you.

But one night, after a shootout left him rattled and silent, she touched his face and whispered, “I know you don’t say it. But I feel it. Every time you look at me like I’m the only thing that’s not chaos.”

He swallowed hard. Pressed his forehead to hers.

“Then know this,” he murmured. “If the whole damn city burned, I’d walk through the fire for you.”

The proposal came months later.

He had just come back from a near-fatal hit job. She was furious—yelling, shoving at his chest, demanding why he kept risking everything.

“You’re the most wanted man in Linkon. You think you’re invincible, but you’re not. What happens when you don’t make it back?”

And then he kissed her. Not hard this time—just soft. Tired. Real.

“I keep coming back because I don’t know how to be without you.”

He didn’t kneel. He didn’t have a speech.

He handed her a ring—simple, no frills, like him—and said:

“Say yes. Let me make you mine. Officially.”

And for once, Nezu couldn’t argue.

She didn’t want to.

The wedding wasn’t a fairytale.

There were guards. Guns. Backup plans.

It was held in a safehouse. Only those closest to them were allowed. A room lit with low lights and guarded windows. But in the middle of it all—Nezu in white, Sylus in black—they looked like something out of a dream Linkon wasn’t allowed to have.

He didn’t cry. But his voice caught when he said, “I never thought I’d get to keep anything good.”

She whispered, “You do. You get me.”

And they said their vows—not poetic, not perfect, but honest.

He vowed to protect her with everything he had. She vowed to love him even when the world called him a monster.

Before the twins, before Amelia, before Daniel and Shu…

There was this.

Two broken people standing at the edge of something terrifying and beautiful.

Not a white-picket-fence kind of love.

But one forged in fire, bulletproof and beating.

The kind of love only people like them could survive.

And the kind of love they’d never trade for anything else.

taglist: @nezuswritingdesk

[panics-side-blog]

Alucard x fledgling reader general Headcanon's

I haven't written in a while and during work a bunch of little things popped up in my mind, sadly most of it is already forgotten but I'll try to still make it coherent. To be honest the headcanons are written in a way where the reader and Alucard are in a romantic relationship but I'll try to keep it as vague as possible. It all is also more or less based on bat anatomy.

🦇 While it is more reserved and more common for vampires around South America, Alucard sometimes regurgitates blood in order to share it with you if you're in desperate need of blood.

🦇 Be it because you hadn't drank enough in a while, still need to get used to taking blood straight from the source/being a bit squeamish about it or due to a really bad injury that needs to be healed quick.

🦇 It's a very intimate act considering that blood it practically a vampires life source and for many less fortunate vampire's it can be a life or death situation sharing the bit of blood they still have stored with someone else who is important. Of course Alucard doesn't have to worry about dying of hunger since he always has a steady source of it from the Hellsing organization but the sentiment is still there.

🦇 He still remembers his past self needing to get used to being a vampire and being plagued by hunger during strong winters. The terrible feeling of weakness while his body began to eat itself due to desperation to keep himself alive, considering that blood is terrible for fat storage and human food began to taste terrible making him eat less of it, his body began to break down his muscles. Making him become frail and a husk of his former self, something Alucard wants to avoid with you.

🦇 It probably was a bit gross for you when it happened. The blood was still a bit fresh but somehow stale, together with the metallic taste it made you scrunch up your face as it entered your mouth, feeling his cold lips touch yours almost shyly as he felt the blood come up his throat, tongue pushing some of the spilled blood inside you.

🦇 It felt like a kiss despite it not being one and more so out of survival or practically. There was something soothing about being held firmly, close to his broad form that made you forget how fucking weird and new it all is. Once it all was over it left you a bit dazed, not just from the act itself but also because your body immediately began to burn the blood into energy.

🦇 Such moments tragically happened more often than Alucard had expected, you just not drinking enough, he hadn't the issue with Seras even if she refused to drink it at first. Maybe you were a bit more frail than he expected, it was an annoying fact he had to deal with until you finally got the hang of it.

🦇 Echolocation is also something you can do, sadly your eyes and ears are good enough that you didn't really need such a thing during the night but there were other uses for it. Just like he did with Seras, who also was bummed about the fact that it's kind of useless, he taught you Morsecode in order for you to send messages to him through the echolocation if you both happened to be too far away and encrypted it to make it a weird mess of sounds for other vampires near you both.

🦇 The sun was also an entirely new factor of discomfort to deal with, you're lucky enough that he was the one who made you a vampire it gave you a slight advantage with tolerating things that are normally more of an issue for other vampires, it mostly was the heat and UV that wore you down.

🦇 Your skin on particularly intense days feeling like thousand tiny needles poking it, sweating way more than before or the unmatched power of the sun blinding you for a moment while you had the worst case of swamp ass.

🦇 Sunscreen and a summer umbrella did help quite a bit but something about Alucard's shit eating, smug grin didn't rub you in the right way when he witnessed you melting like snow.

🦇 Just like your mentor, food began to taste odd, sweet and bitter was just not something you ever could distinguish normally ever again, everything was a weird mixture of random things that only confused you. At the beginning it was especially bad considering your brain had to adapt to the change, making you gag by an unexpected taste or feel disappointment that your favorite sweet treat was blander than the color grey.