#madness combat fic

[a-table-of-fics]

The Man from Utah, Chapter 7, Draft 1, Part 23

Len charged forward, only to be shot by Fletcher. The wounds in his chest made him stumble, but he pressed forward as some of the henchmen grabbed Fletcher and Liam from behind. They gave a few swift punches to their faces and torsos, causing them to buckle downward. They were going to continue the beating, but Len’s raised hand and cold glare stopped them.

“Unhand them!” Dan bellowed, but Fletcher had gone from a slow walk to a swift leap in an instant, latching himself onto Dan’s helmet.

Dan struggled, dropping his sword in an effort to grab Len, but he was swift. Len made it a point to kick him in the exposed teeth, making him clutch his mouth instinctively. This gave his attacker ample time to grasp under the helm and pull at a crack. It took only a second for the helm to fall apart around Dan’s head, sliding to the ground in so many loud clatters.

By the time Dan was able to take another swing, Len was gone, making his way over to Liam. He could see that the MAG didn’t care for any of this drama, instead marching towards the group. He could try to take on Len or the oncoming MAG, but not at once.

Wrenching his sword from his magnetized plating, he steeled himself for the giant’s attacks once more. He felt pieces of his helmet as they pelted his side, but ignored them to focus on making strikes against the MAG.

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 14541

To say Liam was exhausted at this point would be an understatement. His blurry vision just caught the glowing orange of Len’s shades, and he could see swift swings of metal somewhere behind, vaguely hearing grunts and growls from Dan and the giant.

“For a bodyguard,” Len said, calmly, “You’ve been far more of a menace than your leader. It’s a shame that you didn’t know your place.”

He lifted his hands to either side of Liam’s head, and prepared to twist.

[basement-buddy]

[ra-bies]

One of my biggest issues with most x reader fanfics is the fact that the reader is always displayed as more of a mother and not a partner. Not just fem readers but gender neutral readers too, the reader character always feels so bland. (Idk abt masc readers lol) No matter the personality of the character, most writers just default to “motherly figure who is also your partner.” I get that relationships have to have support (and that the fics have to be inclusive to everyone who is reading) but I feel that there are better ways to show that. Idk is that just me?

[abstract-crossverse]

Could you do Phobos x fem!reader headcanons? Pretty please with a cherry and sprinkles on top? 🙏🙏

Weeeell since you asked so nicely… Been a while since I wrote for Phobos lmao, I do love this director, also I'm so sorry I've been away for so long, I got hyperfixated on other things and just been working my life really I got a little carried away… Yall deserve something big for how long I’ve been away lol, enjoy I still don’t know when a name ends in s if I still use ‘s or just ‘ at the end of it when merging “is” to the name…

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Phobos x Fem!Reader // [hc/fic, fluff]

You probably met while you worked as an engineer for Nexus, let's switch things around, I mostly see scientist readers or something, it's not a bad thing but I wanna explore engineers and soldats as well, buckle up

Here’s the thing that I should explain before anything, Nexus Engineers and Soldats are not yellow blooded, those were not made in the labs, alr? These are your everyday Joes who are a little more interesting than your casual grunt with their knowledge, engineers are promoted with their knowledge to fix things and good insight while Soldats are promoted with high combat skills and high ambition, endurance and shit, all of them start as normal agents, got it? Alr lets go

You probably didn't work for anyone in specific, freelancing and fixing anything you could for a quick buck, you had a good reputation as one of the best engineers around Nexus City though. Phobos caught wind of your existence while passing one of your buddies who did work for him, the Soldat was telling their co-workers about your skills and how “you could fix anything you touched”. He's really exaggerating here, but he’s always been supportive of you, we’ll call him…. Tom, for easy reference.

The Director grew skeptical of your skills, it almost sounded too good to be true, and with how highly this mortal was talking about you, you must be good, after all, this was one of his top soldats, he wouldn’t be lying if he knew what was good for him.

“Really? She’s that good?” Phobos’s voice boomed from the door to the break room, many of the grunts flinched and straightened their postures in the Director’s presence, including Tom, who scrambled to turn around — knocking over his chair in the process — singled out as the rest of the room took a step back. The soldat stammered, caught completely off guard by Phobos’s sudden appearance, tensing as the much taller grunt stepped closer.

“Answer me, Soldat, is she as good as you say she is?” He asked with a dangerously calm tone, it was threatening, as if the Soldat said one wrong word he’d be beheaded on the spot, Phobos couldn’t bother to remember his name. 

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat quietly as Phobos towered over him, his glaring red monocle almost casting a red spotlight on his face, he seemed to take a deep breath before answering confidently, “Yes sir, she is the best I’ve seen in a long time.”

One of the engineers scoffed at that, unfortunately just loud enough to make the Director shoot them a glare, making their blood run cold and lower their head in fear. Phobos hummed in acknowledgment, returning to Tom “... very well.” Phobos drew in a breath, “Lucky for her, we are still in need of recruits, especially engineers, so they can help with the machines and whatever else they do around the Tower. You will bring her here tomorrow for an interview, if she’s as good as you say, she will be hired.” with the demand in place, Phobos stood back up to his full height, looking down at Tom as he slightly shook in his boots.

“... and if I don’t..?” 

Phobos’s glare intensified at the question, Soldats always seemed to be curious about the most insignificant things, how dare he question Phobos’ orders. 

“Then I will personally make you an example as to why you shouldn’t lie about someone’s capacities to me.” He finished sharply, turning on his heel and marching out of the room, nearly knocking Tom over with the mere force of him being hit by his cape.

As soon as the employees thought Phobos was out of earshot, he could hear many of them reprimanding Tom for not shutting his mouth when he had the chance, it did make a grin tug at the corner of his lips, thinking the way most just immediately jumped on Tom for being a little too positive about your abilities and being caught was absolutely hilarious. However, if you truly were as good as Tom claimed, then you might just earn your spot in the Tower, yet another stepping stone for his plan of achieving Godhood.

When Tom came to you with the story, you… didn’t exactly know how to feel, flattered Tom spoke so highly of you? Annoyed he dragged you into this situation? Or scared of what Phobos might do to you if you didn’t meet his expectations… Either way, anxiety shot up, you had been questioning whether to apply to Nexus Core though, maybe actually get a full-time job instead of living off freelance, so this was the best time than any other to actually get that job. Or suffer Phobos’s wrath.

You dragged Tom inside your home to explain to you how the machines in Nexus Core looked so you didn’t have any surprises when going over. It was very bare bones; Tom knew nothing of machines aside from basically what they did, but it was enough to help you through and figure it out yourself.

When the next day came, you put on your self-assigned work clothes and got a ride with Tom to the Science Tower, yawning the majority of the way there. Tom had to go in early as shit due to his status, meanwhile, you usually got to sleep in unless you had a job, you weren’t used to the early routine, but nothing a cup of coffee on the way there didn’t fix.

Going through the Tower was long-winded, to say the least, the thing looked bigger on the inside, and the number of floors�� Christ, you were starting to reconsider this opportunity on the 10th flight of stairs you had to go through, and you weren't even in the middle of the tower yet. But going around the rooms you normally would’ve never had clearance to as a normal visitor to the museum part of the place was good to know which type of electronics you’d be working with; they seemed… complicated, and it made you nervous.

Tom had been leading you by the hand because he just didn’t want you to get lost, and then get yelled at for it, so before you knew it you were faced with the Director’s entry doors. The guards were cold in their tones, requesting Tom state his business before letting you both through, and honestly, you were not surprised to see how huge the office was, what you didn’t expect though was to see other scientists working around in the same room, just right there next to the Director, you wondered if these were high-rank employees or if this was a way of keeping them under Phobos’s personal surveillance.

The Soldat let go of your hand and gave you a look of reassurance before you both looked at the towering silhouette at the top desk, seeming to admire his city out the window; the scene looked like something almost out of a movie. Tom took a deep breath before marching up to his office, with you following suit, pausing only for a moment to hear the G03LMs announce your approach.

As you approached his desk, he didn’t turn to you both just yet. Glancing at the other two Soldats standing guard to his sides made you double-take; they looked almost exactly like Tom did in uniform, only these guys seemed to have more buttons and pins on their uniforms than Tom did, those must be a bitch to take off every laundry day. Tom cleared his throat lightly before bowing his head to the Director, motioning for you to do the same before speaking.

“Director, I have brought the engineer you requested.” Tom announced almost as if talking to a king. 

Phobos turned from his wide window to look at you both, the light from the dawn outside highlighted very few parts of him; it almost looked like a painting if it didn’t look oddly terrifying. He seemed to take a moment to analyze you before lifting his hand and lowering it a couple of inches down. “At ease, Lieutenant. You too, Engineer.” he boomed, allowing you both to stand straight again. His tone was sharp, but not harsh, simply an order.

Phobos retracted his hand into his cape, you’re not too surprised he actually wears the thing, Tom’s told you about the times he accidentally or intentionally knocked people over with his cape whenever he came around for lunch. 

“I will take it from here, I’d like to get to know our… Possible recruit. Return to your duties, Lieutenant.” he ordered again, your eyebrows furrowed a bit as Tom nodded and spun on his heel, giving you a pat on the shoulder before marching away. Your anxiety spiked as you were left to stare up at Phobos on your own.

Okay, I'm getting too carried away here, let me speed things up a bit.

Phobos gives you an interview himself, normally it would be someone lower in rank due to his schedule being SO busy with paperwork, but again, Tom gloated about you so much he just had to see you with his own eye, completely valid reason, right? Yea, yea sure. Also, escaping from the amount of paperwork from their projects and agreements with other companies was a little nice.

He got your basic info, you answered his questions, that he had written in little slips of paper with basic answers under them he had a handful of the engineers write, he’s by no means a “tech nerd” like you engineers, but he did his best to grab the essential answer from your longer explanations with a smile on your face, you seem to enjoy mechanics, good, the ones with more passion seemed to give better results.

After all of that, he got up from his chair and walked around his desk to you, damn he was far taller than you anticipated. He said he’d give you a tour of the place and have you fix a couple of things with the other engineers, under his monitoring; we don't need you going somewhere you don't need to be, of course.

So the whole day you followed him around, grouped with a couple of random engineers in the facility; you successfully fixed something — which as much as these machines looked complicated they had pretty standard problems to be fixed so far. Around lunchtime, he took you back to his office which was mostly empty aside from some scientists finishing up work before quickly leaving to get their food and finish it within the 2-hour break Phobos gave them, which was surprising, most jobs didn't even give an hour. You may have off-mindedly muttered about that being nice, Phobos, seeing it as an opportunity to make a better impression and gloat a bit, claimed it was because he understands how huge and time-consuming getting up and down the tower to the food court and back was, plus, he enjoyed the time to himself that the break gave.

One long and unnecessary speech about how great of an asset you’ll make to Nexus Core, how he sees great potential in you, and how he can see you climbing the ranks quickly later… You're hired! Congrats, you work for the minion look-alike now. Yippee.mp3. He gave you a handshake, let you know where you could get the proper uniform for your work, and set you free to go home, saying you’d start that next Monday. Telling the good(?) news to Tom on your way out, he took you out for a celebratory lunch at your favorite place. At least he was happy you’d get to see each other more often; work always got in the way of your hangouts.

Either way, working at the Tower isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, most of the time at least; you got to know a couple of Tom’s other friends and co-workers around your first day, setting you up with one of his most “trustworthy” engineer friend. Much to their dismay, Tom begged them to babysit you until you got the hang of things in return for like… 5 favors he’d owe them in return. We’ll call this one Kai. 

Kai did as promised, giving you a more in-depth rundown of how certain machines worked and what their most common problems to fix were just to give you a heads up, claiming they were feeling generous enough to let you know. Allowing you to take the lead in fixing some of these machines similar to how Phobos did in your interview, quizzing you from time to time on the machines, what they did, or how to fix a certain problem.

As much as they were incredibly monotonous in their voice, you could tell they were just as passionate about mechanics as you were.

Something you did notice throughout the day, however, was that the Director himself was around very often.

“Yep, that’s correct once again, great job [Name].” Kai gave you a tired nod and praise as you answered their question about the cloner in front of you correctly, glad you were paying attention to their ramblings about the machine earlier. You smiled at them behind your mask, hoping they saw how your eyes squinted to know so before they began to speak again.

“Now, this one has been having some problems with faulty wiring, I’ll fix this once since this equipment is so delicate, but I need you to watch and learn how it’s fixed so you-” Their thought process was interrupted halfway through unscrewing the machine’s control panel, raising their head and looking into space for a moment before looking at the doors to the room expectantly, cycling through every couple seconds, did they hear something? You mostly just heard the beeps and scribbles from the machines and the scientists, though… you felt some slight vibration at your feet. “.. is something wrong?” 

“... The Director’s coming… again… don't do anything-” 

“stupid, I know.” you finished their phrase as they continued with their work, feeling the vibrations of his footsteps approaching far clearer than before, ‘there are 3 doors leading to this room, two on the east and west, and one north-east up a staircase, it doesn’t feel like the footsteps are coming from above but I can’t tell where the sound of his boots are coming from, but… I’m willing to bet the… east door?’

The sound of a door opening to your right had half of the people in the room looking towards it, mainly those who were so lost in their work to notice, including you and Kai. ‘huh, it was the east… lucky guess..?’

You didn’t dare look at the Director for too long, after all, you had to focus on what Kai was doing… Kai, who was inspecting what the much taller grunt was doing with interest for a minute or so before going back to work with a light huff, sounded.. Baffled? You wondered what was wrong as you watched them mess with the wires, disconnecting and reconnecting a couple of set wires before starting to close the panel again, they worked fast that’s for sure.

“See? It’s pretty easy once you know which must be reconnected or switched around. Sometimes in a hurry some other engineers or scientists who don't know what they're doing mess up the wires and make the machine faulty.. The nerve of some people…” they muttered with a disappointed look, making you chuckle briefly before nodding in agreement, not before you felt a familiar looming presence behind you, though.

The large hand on your shoulder made you flinch as the Director’s voice nearly reverberated in your chest with how close he was, like a loud bass in giant speakers. 

“Heyy, how’s the work going-... [Name]..! Liking this magnificent Tower so far?" His tone was far friendlier than you’ve heard before, a smile clear in his tone; it seemed like he struggled to remember your name for a moment but you wouldn't blame him if it was the case, with so many workers here and this being your first day…

“Oh! Uh- great! The work- well, the introduction is going great! I do.. Enjoy it here!” you answered a half-truth with a nervous smile behind your mask, you knew he probably couldn't see it but expressions die hard. “Good! Good! And- hello to you too….. Kaaaailee, yes, Kailee.'' The pause with Kai’s name was longer, and the confidently incorrect answer made it painfully obvious he genuinely didn't remember their name; it was almost charming, just a bit.

“Close yet far, sir.” Kai mumbled to themselves as they gave him a small bow “Hello, Director.”

“How’s your work?” he questioned with a small tilt of his head, his hand still firmly placed on your shoulder. 

“Nearly done, sir. I’m just teaching Ms. [Name] here how our cloners work.” Kai gestured to you as Phobos nodded with satisfaction. 

“Good good, delightful. Anyway, I must get back to my duties. You treat our new engineer well, Kailee, we don’t want a 2-week’s notice so soon!” Phobos’s laugh echoed through the room, sounding almost cartoonishly villainous as he gave two firm pats on Kai’s back before walking off through the west door.

You gave him an awkward wave even if he didn't see it, a hand lingering on the warm spot from his hand on your shoulder for a moment, ‘... that was weird’ you thought before turning your attention back to Kai, who looked to be in slight pain, leaning against the cloner for support.

“... you good?” your hand placed on their shoulder gently, concern starting to lace your voice, Kai let out a small groan in annoyance. “He never knows how to regulate his strength… either way, that was quite the odd interaction.” They stood back up straight. 

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t be clueless. You noticed him following us too, right?” You paused before nodding with an unsure look, “Yeah- well, I mean.. It could just be a coincidence, right?” Kai shrugged their shoulders, 

“Maybe, but the patterns are just too convenient…”

“Patterns?” you questioned, giving them way to elaborate “Well, when he comes around, he scans the room quietly before he focuses in our direction, then tries to act natural by looking over other people before gravitating to where we are. Looking over us or- like he just did, and maybe strikes a conversation.”

“It is a little odd when you put it like that, but doesn't he monitor new people like me too? Surely this is normal-” Kai held up a hand, something you caught on to mean he wanted to stop you mid-sentence before speaking, interrupting you but not at the same time. “Not really, no, at least not that I’ve seen.. He never did that with me at least, nor with any other engineers that I’ve trained before.”

You were about to speak before another engineer passed by you, butting into your conversation. 

“I think yer thinkin’ into it too much again, Kai. Yer scarin’ the poor gal.” he softly punched the taller engineer on the arm, holding a box labeled ‘parts’ under his other arm, the thick southern accent being the first thing you noticed before processing his appearance, he turned to you. “Don’t ye worry yer tiny head about it, rookie, I’ve seen Ol’ Bos monitor some other newbies more closely like that befo’. Seems he does this stuff to ones who he thinks are troublemakers or ‘ave had a bad impression o’ him or Nexus as a whole! Ye don’t seem like the trouble kind, he’s probably just tryna give you a good impression or sumthin’.” he shrugged, stealing your bonnet for a moment to ruffle your hair lightly with a laugh before handing your hat back to you and walking off without another word.

Kai sighed with a shake of his head, rubbing the spot he was punched at as you fixed your hair with a light chuckle, “he’s in good spirits at least.” you mentioned as you repositioned your bonnet on your head, “I guess… he could be right, or not, Phobos is… a bit unpredictable at times… I hate it.” Kai complained as you chuckled again, he motioned for you to follow again, your shift wasn’t over yet and there was more machinery to fix.

I love expanding like this, even if this is probably not what you wanted, I’ll try to speed this up again.

Even after your first day, Phobos kept… lowkey stalking you through your first week, especially after Kai stopped holding your hand through things; you boiled it down to just being him making sure you're not getting into any trouble by yourself, though, it started becoming a bit more obvious that wasn’t the true intention as he started ‘accidentally’ bumping into you on the halls or taking the same elevator to places, sometimes even walking into you seemingly without noticing as you tried getting to Tom and Kai, who often invited you to have lunch with them at the break room if you weren't getting food at the patio.

Phobos didn't understand why he felt compelled to see you, he’s monitored newbies a few times, so this shouldn't be any different, yet… it was.

Most would try to get away as soon as possible unless he actively requested to have a talk with someone, no one dared stay around for long, they feared him, it was always the intent, to be feared, respected, to be this City’s GOD. Yet you were different, you weren’t scared; nervous at most, but it didn’t seem to be directed towards his presence completely. You consumed his thoughts when he was attempting to do his work, his mind gravitating to your face, your mannerisms, your laugh… It was frustrating, what had you done to him? It’s only been a couple of weeks and he’s enamored by you, he’s been attracted to other people before, albeit before he became Director, but it never seemed to go past their appearances, but this? This was bigger, this was more.

It didn’t take long for him to make sense of his thoughts, sure, a couple frustrations didn’t go unexpressed as he seemed to be unpredictable around. One day he’d be all gleeful and conversational with you, the other he’d be distant and judgemental, you assumed he was simply having stressful days… but your gut said to ask, to figure out what was wrong with your boss, especially since some of your coworkers found themselves with the short end of his temper.

So you asked, slipping into his office after the doormen left for lunch, you knew he was in there, he said he enjoyed the time for himself. The office was empty aside from his hunched-over shadow up at his desk, he didn’t hear you slip in as your boots clicked against the floor, making your way up to him.

He had his head resting in one hand as his other held a pen to a paper he didn't seem to read, simply staring straight down, taken by his thoughts. Soon you stood in front of his desk, holding his (allegedly) favorite cup of tea you had gotten based on his orders from the cafeteria in your hands, trying to find a way to gently snap him out of his thoughts without it backfiring harshly on you. Pulling down your mask from your face and letting it lay over your upper chest as you called out his name softly.

Took about 3 times and light taps on his desk for him to see you were there, irritation shifting to surprise to see you in his office, much more without your mask, he hadn’t seen your face properly since the interview… Clearing his throat, he asked what you were doing here, you explained that you were worried about him, and how stressed he was lately, so you came to ask if he wanted to talk, to rant, anything to make him less stressed just so he doesn’t end up killing anyone for a minor mistake sending him over the edge.

… You… wanted to talk… with him? I mean of course you would, he’s Nexus’ God-Emperor and Director after all, why wouldn’t you? Your words warmed his chest, you cared? You didn’t seem like the lying kind, and he had no reason to believe you would lie to him…

Of course, your request to spend time with him was accepted with a welcome, if you were anyone else he might have thrown you out of the window though. Your lunchtime was spent listening to the Director rant about anything he felt like telling you, about the worries of a certain grunt going against his cause, the stress of his goals, and the annoyance that was needed to cater to MERC and their demands for G03LMs, the angry and poorly written emails from their manager still sat in his drafts as he tried to word an unhostile email, it was hard!

He didn’t elaborate on certain things, but you didn’t pry, maybe if you did he’d get more stressed, that wasn’t your current goal. Though you couldn’t help but feel charmed by his demeanors, obviously he didn’t pass on opportunities to gloat about himself, but after he was done ranting, he asked to know more about yourself. It surprised you he was interested in your life at all, but he insisted, so you complied.

You both lost track of time, talking and laughing about funny stories from your lives and even gossiping about things outside and in the tower. Your previous image of Phobos had been broken, that intimidation and nervousness vanishing like smoke in the air, he was just like you and the others, if not a little up his ass but he was still a grunt like everyone else; He liked to gossip, he enjoyed technology and what it could do, he enjoyed comedy, horror, and action movies.

The more you talked, the more the both of you fell for each other, at some point he had forgotten to drink his tea, by the time Lunch was over and his guards came back wondering what you both were laughing about, the tea was cold.

You were disappointed to need to go back to work but you had machines to work on, Phobos suggested you pick up your conversation again the next day. And so followed your new routine, you’d come to work, do your thing, and stay with Phobos for the lunch hour until you went back to work, he even started messaging you after a while to send you goodnights or for you to elaborate on certain things he was really curious about from your conversations earlier.

It took a few months for him to ask you out, and even longer to finally ask you to be his. He made a big deal out of it, of course, it was something private between you both but he went all out on it, flowers, tuxedo, your favorite treat, the works. You made it official on the Tower’s rooftop, watching the sunset together.

He loves you just as much as he loves himself, dare I say even more, his diamond, his queen, he wants you to rule alongside him when he achieves Godhood. He hasn’t told you the full extent of his plans though, you know it's important but he won't elaborate on what he’s trying to do.

He loves PDA, getting a kick of showing others you’re his and only his, kisses, handholding, gentle touches along your sides and shoulders, etc. he doesn’t care about who sees you together, in fact, how dare they stare in the first place.

Phobos can be a bit of a jealous partner, getting protective and possessive of you at times if you hang out with your friends for what he deems to be too long. Later when you're both alone, he’ll remind you of who you belong to with long, deep kisses, and hold you against him, trapped in his arms. It’s nothing too rough to overwhelm you, he’d never forgive himself if he dared hurt you, he tries to take it lightly and playfully, trying to make you giggle even if he’s serious about his words.

Regardless he just wants you well, if you’re in any pain at all he WILL just give you the day off, mayhaps he’ll even excuse himself to keep you in his bedroom, staying with you and getting you anything you need, painkillers, water, anything you crave at the time. Spoils the HELL out of you, and will cling to you as long as you're comfortable.

Speaking of that, he’s a HUGE fan of physical touch. He’ll trace his nails along your back and gently rub your thighs when cuddling, trace his thumb along your knuckles when holding hands, touch legs when just sitting next to each other, and can't hold hands, rest his head on your shoulder and hug you if you're sitting on his lap. Playing with your hair… He’ll never admit he’s a fan of romance books, he’s always wanted to do this with someone, and with you he can finally relax and be soft-ish for once.

Also, he’s big spoon when you cuddle, he enjoys holding you more than anything, but if you insist on him being little spoon he won't protest much, being held is nice too.

If you have a spot when you keep your things at the tower he’ll take the time to leave you little gifts, mainly small things that you mentioned you’d like to buy some time or something, flowers, treats, even just little notes to lift your spirits. He enjoys being romantic, and if it means it’ll bring a smile to your lovely face then so be it.

Some of your co-workers are slightly concerned about your relationship, warning you of his manipulative ways at times, others can't be bothered to say anything because you keep Phobos in good spirits, and keep them from being yelled at so whatever. But he’d never manipulate you I’m sure… right?

Nicknames! My Dear, Starlight, My Love, My Queen, anything to do with your name, usually he’ll put “My” before the nickname because he enjoys reminding himself that he somehow managed to bag such a lovely person. It’s the only thing he questions about how he got so lucky.

He loves you beyond everything. It’s really gonna sting when he dies… Hope you’re ready for that.

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[antipathy-arsonist]

au where everything calms the FUCK down and hank gets to try learn to be a "normal" person again is all i crave. really.

[ya-killin-me-smalls]

who r sum madcom authors u actually rec reading from???? its hard looking for authors who write seriously in this fandom hng

gravedigest

every single thing by them

Doing Something and His Name Meant Terror especially

but every single thing is good

buglegs

Cainism and An Act of Solace are fucking amazing

all their other stuff again is good but those two stuck with me

cuntservatory

just starting out but a really good author so far and I'm so excited to see what else she puts out

tuningout

the sanmos coffee shop au haunts me

I know it'll probably never update but you can pry my hope from my cold dead hands

if you end up checking any of these out PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE give em some love and interaction. sometimes it feels like you're writing into the void in this fandom and people who put so much effort into their works deserve 1000 years of appreciation for it

[cerise-on-top]

hey!! its me again. your only current madcom requester (as far as i know), i was wondering if you could please write skittles and possibly deimos (seperate) with an artist s/o? specifically one who is constantly doodling them and making art for them? thank you!

-💾

Welcome back! Thank you for another Madcom request, I was looking forward to writing it! This one was also really sweet!

Deimos and Skittles with an Artist!S/O

Deimos: He draws from time to time himself and isn’t even that bad at it either. Sure, it’s never gonna be an elaborate painting or anything, but small drawings of Sanford eating some kielbasa or Hank getting beaten by Doc again. His drawings are usually more on the humorous side since he prefers those. Either way, he’d feel honoured that you like him enough to want to doodle him this much and draw for him. Yes, he knows that he’s hot shit, but it’s still nice. In fact, everyone at S.Q. will know about you being such a wonderful artist since he’ll show those drawings to everyone. You’re such a nice person, and so good at arts, it deserves to be shown off to everyone he knows. Give him enough drawings and he’ll draw something for you as well. As mentioned before, he’s pretty decent at drawing, but he’ll genuinely put in some effort into drawing you, for example. Deimos gets around a lot, and he does loot quite a bit whenever he can, so don’t be surprised if he walks up to you with some art supplies that he got from somewhere. You’re always on his mind, so naturally he’ll get something for you just so he can see you draw. Sometimes you might even get to draw with each other since he would get into it again ever since he received a few doodles from you. Although I should mention that he’ll still draw funny things to get you to laugh, he does want to see you be in a good mood. And if it’s because of him, even better. However, he’ll keep each and every single drawing of yours in a box, they’re near and dear to him. I know he can draw too, but he would love nothing more than to ask you to draw a picture of you and him together as a keepsake. It’s more personal than a picture to him and takes more effort.

Skittles: Like Deimos, he, too, draws from time to time. Unlike Deimos, he’s not very good at it, but that has never discouraged him from drawing a nice scenery. In his eyes, with everything he creates he’s only gonna get better and better at it, so he really doesn’t mind not being the best at drawing. He likely has tried drawing other grunts as well, including you, so you’ll likely see a drawing of you here and there. How could he not, after all. However, he proudly does show you his drawing as well. Hypes you up like no one else when it comes to you drawing. Sure, he’ll be quiet when you are drawing, but he’ll never miss an opportunity to ask you about some new creations you may have made. He’s as genuine as it gets about it too, he really does want to see your drawings. However, he’s not a very good critic since everything you make is the best thing ever in his eyes, so you really shouldn’t ask him for constructive criticism if you want some. He can and will find something good about each and every single one of your drawings, whether you like it or not. He hangs the drawings you give him up as well. Especially with magnets on the fridge since he wants to see them for as long as possible. Also keeps them in a neatly decorated box, and also shows your skills off to everyone willing to listen to him. If you’re ever down to take some commissions, he’s your best bet since he can always find someone willing to buy from you. Very excitable about your skills and loves talking about you in general. Nevada deserves to know about how great you are. Skittles will also come up to you with some art supplies here and there, if he can find some. As long as you’re happy doodling away, he’s happy as well. Gives you a big hug for each and every single drawing you make for him, he wants to reward you somehow.

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

Could I ask for a 2BDamned x Reader x Hank story? Reader goes to check on 2B with Hank and the duo help 2B get to bed because he’s been up for nearly two days. They want their grumpy partner to sleep dang it.

Polyamory? Polyamory :) <3 2B x reader x Hank

Doc's eyes burned, his head was pounding and his body was weak and shivering from lack of sleep, but there was still a mounting pile of work he needed to get on top of. He was no stranger to missing a nights sleep, but this was extreme, even for him.

"Kyle, are you still working?" You opened his door, seeing him still in the same hunched over position he'd been in when you checked on him last hour.

"Just another hour, I need to get these done." He didn't look at you, his voice was gruff and tired, yet there was underlying determination. He'd told you the same thing the past five times you checked on him. "Could you make another pot of coffee please, my dove?"

"You really need some sleep, sweetheart." You crossed the room, putting your arms around his chest, resting your chin on his shoulder, and instantly he melted against your body, weariness setting in.

"I can't right now. I still have things to plan, there's a new cloning facility being built, and it could be costly to us if it's finished." Still, he leaned into you, inhaling your scent deeply. In quiet moments, his hardy exterior melted and his tenderness came out. "...Coffee, please?"

A sigh escaped your throat. "Last one, I swear. But you need to do two things, change your posture before you get worse back ache, and give me a kiss."

Doc let out a chuckle and took off his mask, showing off the heavy black bags under his eyes. He was usually clean shaven, but stubble had grown thanks to his lack of self care, his breath smelled heavily of cigarettes and coffee, a stress smoker and habitual coffee connoisseur, both lingered on his tongue.

He offered a sweet and gentle kiss, his stubble roughly brushing on your face and pricking you, when he pulled back, he looked exhausted, the shadows of his monitors darkening his features. His Glasgow smile caught the light just right, making it look like his cheeks were hollowed. "I love you, dove."

"I love you too, Kyle." You broke away from him, heading to the kitchen to brew another pot, despite not wanting to. You wanted your lover to rest, not try perk himself up again.

Smoke and gunpowder filled your nostrils a second before Hank's huge arms wrapped around you. "Hey Henry," Hank bonked their head softly against yours, a happy low rumble coming from his throat. "Kyle's not been sleeping again, he always falls into this pattern when you've been gone a while."

Hank grumbled something inaudible, before speaking up. "He needs to take better care of himself.... Always bitching at me for not doing it... How long this time...?"

You glanced at the analogue clock on the wall behind Hank's frame. "Just gone two days."

"....He's going to really hurt himself." Hank took off their goggles, showing off his furrowed brow and bloodshot ruby eyes.

"Did you tell him you're back? He'll be happy to see you."

They took off their bandanna too, licking their dry and cracked top lip, adjusting their jaw carefully with his hands. "No, wanted to surprise." They watched you open the cupboard and go for the crinkled up coffee bag, their massive hand covered yours and pulled it back. "No coffee. We are going to make him sleep."

"He wouldn't listen to me." You shrugged meekly, you being the more reasonable one between you and Hank.

"He can't fight against me, I can pick him up like he weighs nothing." Hank outweighed both of you and Doc twice over at least, when he wants to cuddle and sleep, denial is impossible, he will just make you.

Hank licked his teeth and smiled as best he could. "At least Kyle will get some sleep now, even if he doesn't want to." You smiled back. "Plus who can say no to cuddling with you? You're like the cool side of the pillow all of the time."

They laughed, a deep and sexy laugh, one that so rarely graces the world, but instantly floods the room with joy when it does. "And cuddling with you is like having a warm cat in my arms." Hank bent down when you tugged on his shirt, allowing you to kiss his metal jaw. "Time to force Doc to relax."

A soft gasp left your throat as Hank easily threw you over his shoulder, carrying you fireman style to Doc's office.

"That coffee ready, dove?" Doc turned around, greeted by Hank's hulking figure with you over their shoulder. "Hank, you're back-" There was an audible smile in his tone.

"You, me, dove, bed, now." Hank commanded.

"I can't." Doc frowned, "I still have to-HANK NO!" Hank picked Doc up in the same way he did to you, throwing him over the other shoulder. "Put me down, Wimbleton!"

"Put you down, alright, down in bed. It's bedtime bitch."

Your fingers interlocked with Doc's, biting back a laugh. "I told you you needed some rest, if you won't listen to me, you'll have to listen to Hank."

Doc threw a scowl at you, not one of malice, just light irritation. He sighed hard and rolled his eyes, a smile creeping into his tired features. "I'll admit, I can be a little stubborn."

"Stubborn as an ass." Hank interjected, before unceremoniously throwing the two of you onto his bed. Being the largest member of the SQ, Hank naturally has a large bed, compared to Doc who can barely fit the three of you, let alone comfortably.

"You're one to talk. You won't let me tend your wounds even if it'll save your life, unless Deimos and Sanford can hold you down after you've been sedated."

"You're both stubborn." You laughed, and Doc playfully threw a pillow at you.

"Quiet you." He yawned and rubbed his aching eyes, sleep clinging to them.

Hank had taken off their clothes, swapping into an old and faded tank top and comfy boxers, they climbed onto the bed and stretched out, muscles rippling under their skin. "...Tired. Need love, need sleep."

You laid the pillow Doc had thrown at you down and got comfortable, Doc pulled you into his arms. "I suppose I can rest for a few hours..."

Hank trapped him between you, spooning Doc from behind and pulling his arms around your frame too. "Don't have a choice, you can work again when I let you." They grumbled softly, but Doc had already fallen asleep.

You and Hank locked eyes before both drifting off shortly after.

[thecollectionoffanfics]

Little drabble I decided to write to take off my transition into writing for Madness Combat

Cuddling with Phobos is like heaven. He's comfy just as much as the bed the two of you share. Phobos is usually the big spoon because he loves feeling powerful. But he'll be the little spoon if you wish to be the big spoon. Here you two are, cuddling.

Tonight was one of those nights where he wanted to hold you. You felt safe in his arms just as he feels safe holding you. He loves you just as he loves himself. He's willing to conquer his enemies for you. He'll do anything to make sure you are loved by him.

He wants to spoil you with anything you could ever ask for. He treats you like a gem that is very valuable. He loves you for you. He loves you for sticking by his side. He loves to wake up everyday by your side, knowing you're unharmed and still alive.

He appreciates you more than you could ever imagine. If you get nightmares, he'll be there to help you through it. He hates seeing you afraid and crying over your nightmare. So he comforts you through the entire thing. Kissing you, holding you, giving you words of affirmations, litterly anything to help you break yourself out of that trance the nightmares would put you in.

He loves you and will do anything for you. That's how much he cares for you.

Divider credits

[keywhole]

radio waves.

okay i toss this to the wolves. i've only seen like 1/4th of the game so if u tag this w spoiler mentions pls add that theres spoilers bc I Will Read Every Tag.

18+ for heavy gore. also. trigger warning for gore.

sanmos deimos/sanford lil hurt/comfort bc deimos has adhd/autism it's true he told me himself also ty @sparrowchute for editing this bc i would never 4.8k words enjoy

——————————————————————————————————

Hearing the alarms on the rooftop had sucked ass, but in the sewers? Oh, Deimos wanted to kill himself.

The sound pierced directly through his headphones as if they were made of clay. They weren’t. They were a good sturdy pair of a headset; Deimos just kept them a few sizes down for them to be pressed into his head. For something he found as a joke, his dumbass trademark had become a lifesaver. He never understood the phrase “so quiet you can hear a pin drop,” until he found these. And, well, after Doc fixed them up a little, but even before that they were perfect. He could finally hear and not hear at the same time. Instead of hearing every single creak of metal or wood, pounding enemies a dozen feet from him, with stomping footsteps behind, he just heard the footsteps. Instead of being in car crashes and hearing every sputter of the engine, every shriek that the windows made as they broke, he just heard Sanford asking if everyone was okay, Hank complaining about an illegal left, and his own laughter. It was like he was a radio, and the dial finally found a sweet spot.

But somehow, those tall ass dinner bells had shot right through the shells. The headphones were no match for the blaring sound the towers bellowed, and they didn’t stop. It started out as just an annoying ringing in his ears, fine, nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. But they really didn’t stop. Deimos and Sanford were careful, duh, but zeds weren’t. Little tiny pebbles that touched a goddamn pixel within their range weren't careful. Sure, yeah, it was pretty much par for the course for the two of them, but it sucked ass. And then sucked more ass. 

Every ricochet of drops hitting the sewer water echoed in Deimos’ ears. The water simply moved and bounced in his eardrums and never stopped, because that’s how water works. The old metal creaked inches from age and what lived behind the bars, and even with their sneaking and stealthy footsteps, they sounded like slams against the ground. The feeling of it too was louder to himself because it was, y’know, himself, and Deimos wanted to punch through the side of his head and close his eardrums by hand. He had considered if that would be beneficial in the long run, but they didn’t have enough bandages for all that jazz. He was in hell, and he’d have to deal with it for now. Deimos had done better with worse.

It still SUCKED MAJOR ASS though.

Especially when Sanford had simply explained a plan for once they get out of this place, and Deimos just had to find a dick joke in there, and moved his hand slightly too far to the left and set off an alarm. The same constant ringing that ripped through his skull, except it was amplified by the tunnel of steel encasing the two of them. A shit-fart of a cacophony. It got to the point where he couldn’t tell if it was a zed’s skull or his own cracking in half. The latches of the gate audibly flaked rust as they wailed open, letting a disgusting amount of sludge that pounded against the water beneath it, all combined with the swampy zeds treaded forward with footsteps that sounded like they belonged to moist giants. Not only that, but one of them (if not both) had been pushed into another alarm, which doubled the process.

In case it needed reminding in the last five hundred and eighty-seven words, Deimos wanted to kill himself.

The fights weren’t exactly a big deal physically. The second wave sort of (literally) swamped them, but it wasn’t anything the two of them couldn’t handle. Sanford was slashing his hook through skulls, using various heads as surprisingly useful hammers. Deimos switched between his gun and his bat, but he was off his game. Sanford was there, and his guard over both of them around zeds made up for it, but at some point Deimos couldn’t take it anymore. He took out his gun, and didn’t let go of the trigger. The noise was worse, the recoil creating a sound that not only shot outside his body, but inside, too. But, hey, if his ears were going to bleed, he had to do some of the damage himself. Go big or go home, and the latter didn’t have much meaning for him. So he flooded his ears until he felt Sanford pull his wrist aside.

Deimos’ head was pounding. Luckily, Sanford took a second to scan their surroundings to inadvertently  give the other a chance to compose his face. He pinched between his eyes, not a single beat in the air dropping. Everything was at a constant state of screeching, despite the outward danger being nill. He was about to consider busting his head open and ripping out whatever part of the brain registered sound when Sanford turned back around. He knew Sanford was scanning him to make sure he was okay, and at least it seemed Deimos could keep it together on the outside, in the dark. Sanford quickly gestured for him to follow, hugging the wall a bit more. Deimos knew that also meant to parrot his movements and follow him carefully.

“Up ahead there seems to be a dip in the wall,” Sanford said whispering, though it hit the other like he was speaking in his normal volume, “We should be able to at least breathe for a second.”

“Gotcha,” Deimos whispered in a desperate amount to not say anything more. He was talking as quietly as he could, an attempt to not even be able to hear it himself, but he still did. It received a nod from the other, so at least he knew he was keeping it together at the moment. They shuffled, and he put up with it, his head on a swivel as natural. His face was constantly twitching in discomfort. 

The ringing didn’t stop. It didn’t even start to ebb off.

Luckily, the little dip had been just a small, closed off alley-sorta thing. The two of them checked it out for any ironic traps, but Deimos called it quits far before Sanford and sat himself down. His ass hit the ground and his hands immediately flew up to press his headphones deeper into his head. It muffled some of the water, but the metal was loud.

Sanford wasn’t looking.

One of his hands was pressing against the edge of their little hiding hole while the other was gripping at the handle of his hook. His head was jotting around as he scanned the surroundings. The exit was in sight, but it was still quite a few tip-toes away. There was little to no telling of what was behind that door. Of what Sanford could remember, he could work out some kind of probability, but it’d be a long shot. And with shots on the mind, he thought back to how Deimos just let it rip with his gun. The coast seemed clear, but Sanford didn’t turn around when he sighed.

“You didn’t have to drop all that lead, y’know?” Sanford couldn’t be too mad, because he had spread the bullets out to save him the trouble of being tackled down, “I have no idea when we’ll be able to stock up again.”

“Hey, Sanford.” Deimos' voice was a bit out of breath, but not enough to be concerning; there was a small laugh in it. He tried for it to not sound too forced, because Sanford would notice immediately, so he kept thinking about that time Sanford blew himself up with a grenade. It had been really funny. No one had time for Deimos’ drama, and he knew that, but he wanted to peel his flesh off until that was the last resort. “Be quiet for a sec, ‘kay?”

Sanford knitted his brows. His sense of sight was more focused than his hearing, but he at least gathered a decent idea that his partner definitely needed a break. He couldn’t lie, he wouldn’t mind one himself, but he knew they didn’t have the time for his sore muscles. He didn’t like zeds. He really, really didn’t. It’s not like Deimos did either, he knew they both wanted to get the fuck out of here, but they can’t take a short rest while they’re in initiative. With his back turned, Sanford had no idea of the actual state his partner was in, but with the super funny joke he had made earlier that set off the alarms had him adverse to the idea of him taking him too seriously right now. It’s not like he was mad— no, the joke had been super funny and worth it— but again, they both wanted to get the fuck out of here.

“Deimos, this really isn’t the time to fuck around, we—”

“Sanford, seriously,” Deimos sounded annoyed, but that same rhythm was practiced in his voice, “Shut up for a second.”

Okay. Okay, that was a bit weird. Surely Deimos wasn’t doing the thing where he hides something tying him down under jokes— oh, Sanford felt like a fucking idiot for even considering the possibility that Deimos wasn’t covering something up. They still seemed safe for the time being, at least. He turned his head around to look at the other, confused and concerned.

Deimos was reaching his limit. Usually, when they found a spot they could sit, they had a quiet moment while Sanford jotted some things down and Deimos did fuckall (mostly sneaking in a cigarette) and took an actual second to themselves. This wasn’t one of those moments. His hands kept pressing and pressing and pressing his headphones closer to his head. He didn’t know if that was helping, or if it was making his circulation fucked up enough to cover up more sound. He didn’t want to be a dick, he really didn’t, but if Sanford didn’t give him a minute of silence Deimos would have to be getting his ears sewn back on when they got back. Or bash his head in with a nail bat until he could pick his own brain out; whichever would be faster, either were inevitable. Sanford was walking over to him. The only eye Deimos had opened twitched over to him for a moment, seeing only concern in his face. Despite trying to keep that feeling away from him, he found comfort in the care. He couldn’t comprehend that right now. His skin was buzzing with the reverb of every sound. Sanford’s shoes scraped against the ground in a sound that made his skin burn and sent bullets straight into his brain. His ears couldn’t stand it. The usual soothing gruff in his voice sounded like static squeaking. Deimos knew he was only trying to help. The part of his mind with sense had instantly regretted not asking for it in the first place, but Sanford didn’t shut up, let alone shut the fuck up, and the care didn’t make sense next to the rattles of metal, or the groans of rusted gates, or the sheet of crashes sewage water created. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? I have some—”

Deimos opted to push his headset against his head until the plastic was digging into him. One of his knees dug into his forehead as he killed his own ears himself. Once again, Deimos had to stumble into an alarm.

“Sanford I need you to shUT THE FUCK UP!”

Oh. Oh, shit, something was wrong. Sanford’s shoulders fell. He didn’t turn around fast enough.

The yell was loud enough for some attention to be drawn. Dammit, if Sanford had just noticed Deimos was struggling earlier he could’ve used that very convenient spot to actually help him. The gates behind him opened with moans of familiar fuckers, and another slab of guilt stacked onto Sanford’s shoulders when he realized he’d have to turn his back again. But he had to take care of this before he could do anything for Deimos, so he tugged the rope on his hook for the handle to be back in his hand. With Deimos’ hands still clutched to the side of his head, he still moved his elbow towards his gun before Sanford put out a hand. Unfortunately, he had to talk.

“Don’t— I got this, just stay here.”

He hopped out of their ratting spot and hooked the closest zed by the legs. He flung it against the wall, hopefully buying himself some time to spread the zeds farther away from Deimos. Being in the middle of it all would be a bit of a risky move alone, but he’d find a way to make it work. Deimos hadn’t looked injured (but, then again, goop thrown up on him from a sewer creature could probably cover up blood) but he looked in pain. Either way, something was wrong, and he hadn’t realized. Sanford was so good at noticing his hints, but Deimos was just as good at faking it.

A fist flew its way through a zed’s stomach, making it fall to the ground with a gross squelch, leaving Sanford nothing but a bloody fist. He lifted his boot to crush its head, his foot soon flushed to the ground as if he stepped on a rotten pumpkin. If pumpkins had a lot more blood, at least. His less bloodied arm swung his hook into the throat of another, throwing the freak into another zed to buy him time. With said time, he ended up getting punched in the face and grabbed by the arm. He fought them off with a decent amount of effort before he loosened the rope on his hook to return the punch he owed, and kicked the other zed in the chest to send it down. That same leg stayed up to kick against the standing zed’s shoulder to give him the leverage to grab the thing by the sides of the head and twist its head off. Its bones let out a crunching sigh of relief, as if they had been begging to be free of the rotting meat they were trapped in. It fell towards him, which he dodged right back to the two zeds that were standing once again as they were still held together like a fucked up shish kabob. Sanford pulled the rope tighter to his hand as he lunged himself forward and stomped on their chests. His arm ripped the blade forward, short enough for a flick of his wrist to hold the hilt in his hand. It slashed against the zed’s faces with a rough, wet tear. Good.

There was a tug at the back of Sanford’s leg that led to an instinctual kick. He spun around to see a zed with no legs reaching towards him, its spine poking out of its body. His free boot sent a quick kick up into its open mouth, easily knocking the top of its head off with a swift movement, leaving nothing but a forgotten bottom jaw. A few more surrounded him, green foam bubbling from its mouth. This wasn’t going to be easy with a single weapon. His eyes jotted down to the dead legless zed, the spine writhing out like a larva trying to escape. Sanford ripped it out of its body, feeling it creak and shatter under his hand like spikes of wood. He slammed it into the side of another zed’s head and pierced it through and through. The head stuck on the barbs of the spine kept the thick sludge of a head stuck to it as Sanford whipped around once again and scratched another zed’s face before shoving it down. He used the other, splintered end of the spine to stab another in the face, the movement causing the stuck zed head to drop to his fear and roll around the other corpses. 

It wasn’t long until most of the heads were bashed in, but there were always, always ones that still got back up. Sanford gripped his hook as he threw it forward, giving its rope some slack. He didn’t have time for this. Something was wrong with Deimos.

“Just stay the fuck down, you chu—”

With precision and instinct Sanford hopped to the right to avoid a litter of bullets heading straight towards a zed’s head. It went down immediately, and Sanford couldn’t help but turn his head. Deimos was laying on his side with a cheek pressed to the ground with his gun matching his line of sight. His cheeks felt wet, and he was really hoping it was just miscellaneous goop and not tears. In Deimos’ mind, firing a few shots was the least he could do. In Sanford’s, it instilled another set of determination. He was hurting, but still at his back to help him. Sanford gave him a stern look, but his smile was sweet; a very “this stupid, stupid man” smile.

Deimos could only fire so many bullets. Partially because it was making him go insane, and he wasted most of his ammunition in a fit of rage. Still, it sped up the process of taking the rest of them down, but even with the extra hand Sanford eventually gave him the signal to stop. Deimos didn’t know why, but he did, because his aim was getting worse with disorientation swarming his head. Sanford must’ve noticed that. Or maybe Deimos’ aim had been fucked up enough to graze his arm— he didn’t know, and as long as Sanford wasn’t screaming in pain, it didn’t seem like he had to care.

The scariest part was making sure Sanford could creep his way back into the pair’s hiding spot without attracting further attention. Deimos really couldn’t care much, as long as Sanford was okay. His feet kicked their way to the back of the wall and had his shoulders fight to climb its way up for him to (lopsidedly) sit up. With his back against the wall, he finally had his hands free to push the padding against his ears closer. The pressure on his head was uncomfortable, but so were the bullets pelting their way into his brain through sound. The protection of the headset began to press into his skin more this time, the pads flat against the sides of his head. He could feel the plastic sewing its way against his skin. Was this the last resort?

Sanford stepped back into the tiny ally while looking in each direction. 

“Safe,” He said, mostly to himself, and turned around to run to Deimos and ended up skidding on one knee to meet his level, “I’m here, I’m here, what’s up?”

An annoyed groan ripped its way through Deimos’ tired, overworked lungs. How is Sanford not getting it? With great dramatic effect with his elbows, he pressed the muffs closer and closer and harsher against his head. He could feel the plastic scrape against his skin.

That’s when it all clicked. Sanford felt as if he failed a test for not realizing it sooner.

It was pretty common for certain sounds to cause Deimos to say his ears were ringing, but they always seemed to pass. Or, at the very least, was bearable enough for him to seemingly ignore it, but this one had been constant. They had been careful, yes, but shit still happened, because they were Sanford and Deimos. When the first alarm was tripped, he thought the majority of Deimos’ aggravation at it was the surprise. But adding on the fact that a few more went off— Hell, Deimos was probably still hearing the first alarm screeching in his ears.

Sanford crouched down in front of Deimos. His face was twitching with discomfort, and his chest was rising in panic. Slow enough for Deimos to stop them, he moved to be next to him. His arms laid around his shoulders at the same speed. Deimos didn’t stop him, but he also didn’t loosen up on the force of his headphones. Sanford tried to lower his voice to a point where he could hardly hear it himself, but he didn’t know how loud that was going to be right next to Deimos.

“I’ll keep an eye out, just try to breathe.”

And then, finally, Sanford shutted the fuck up.

His hands gently laid around Deimos’. He wished he could stop shaking, but the weight of Sanford’s arm was enough to hold him a bit more in place. Sanford’s fingers laced with his and gently tugged them away from the casing of his headset. They gently lifted his hands up, only a little, so that the blood coming from the small cuts on his head would slow at some point. Sanford applied the pressure with his wrists, an amount that kept it from hurting him, by gently guiding his hands off carefully. Deimos let him. The pressure slowly released, and blood suddenly felt normal throughout his body. Sanford’s wrist still kept down the pressure while he let his hands be peeled back. Sanford was still keeping an eye out. He could breathe. Deimos’ hand relaxed against his palms. He finally untensed his own wrists, but the muffling of sound was still there with Sanford’s help. One of his arms was around his shoulders.

Deimos closed his eyes and leaned a bit more against Sanford’s arm. The light blanket of quiet that attempted to cover up the overwhelming noise of everything ever was now in his hands. The warmth, and sticky-icky shit from fighting off icky-sticky zeds, was something Deimos could focus on. Everything was still there, threatening to overwhelm him to the point of crushing his own skull with his headphones, but the small bit of reduction was now thanks to Sanford. Deimos lifted his fingers to lay over Sanford’s as much as he could. What was left of a comfortable volume was easier to focus on with the outside comfort. 

Thankfully, their hands only moved to adjust to the position of Deimos turning his head to look up at Sanford. It hurt his head and his throat when he cleared it, trying to find the right way to talk with the least discomfort while he still had time.

“Sorry,” He sheepishly said in his anxiety riddled smile, “I didn’t mean to, to uh, y’know, yell at you. Not really.” 

Sanford shook his head. He turned his body a bit more to face Deimos, his hands holding the mittens around his ears in a firm but not intense force, but his arms were relaxed.

“I know, I know— it probably hurt you a lot more than it hurt me. I get it now,” Sanford whisper-talked(?) in a way like he was trying to turn a dial on the radio, trying to find the sweet spot, “Don’t worry about it, okay? Is this helping?”

He gave Deimos more time to breathe. His hands shakily reached up and placed themselves on Sanford’s biceps, taking a deep breath in, and a long breath out. It still felt as though if the two of them lifted their hands his ears would start spewing blood, but it didn’t seem like either of them would be letting go anytime soon. Right now, Sanford’s hands were keeping that overwhelming static that threatened to incase his senses at an almost bearable bay. When he looked up, the worry and care in Sanford’s face made him glance away. That part of sense in his brain that wanted to reach out for his help before? Yeah, it's at the forefront of his brain now. And it made his chest warm, and his face hot, and a bit more guilty for accidentally yelling loud enough to make Sanford lose whatever recuperation time he had in this spot. More sensations for him to focus on.

“Yeah,” Deimos admitted when he looked back at Sanford with a hint of a smile, “A little.”

A little while ago, Deimos had been writhing in discomfort, when he could laugh with broken ribs. But the moment Sanford’s hands could take their place beneath his, Deimos was giving him an embarrassed smile. A dopey grew on his face. He pressed his forehead against his. He could hear Deimos’ smile in his laugh.

Sanford pulled back with a huff. Now he knew what the problem was and, luckily, found a temporary fix. “Okay, how’re we gonna keep this right until we can take a look at it and see what we can really do?”

Deimos grinned. “I don’t have a fucking clue.”

Sanford was already nodding before Deimos even answered, because he already knew he had no fucking clue. Not only because he just knew him, but he knew how Deimos also couldn’t think when everything sounded like pot pans being slammed together. He hummed in thought, before he sat up. Softly, he reversed his hands with Deimos’. He made sure Deimos’ palms weren't pressing down too hard once they were placed on the shells, before he (reluctantly) let go. He reached into one of his side pockets before motioning Deimos to put his head down. With a confused look, he did so.

He heard the sound of fabric against the shell of his headphones. The fabric pulled tighter, similar to the added weight Sanford had applied. He felt Sanford securing something on his forehead.

“Okay, let go, see how that feels.”

Slowly, with genuine fear, Deimos lifted his hands. He blinked. It wasn’t as filtering, but it was similar. It was bearable. He moved to touch his forehead, feeling a knot with little, messy bits of fabric sticking up. “What’d you do?”

“I ripped a bandana a few days ago and kept the scrap, just in case,” Sanford said as quiet as he had been, “It’s not enough to cover up much but, hey, looks like it came in handy. How is it?”

Deimos adjusted it. He moved the fabric to the middle of his muffs, tightening the knot a bit. The creaking of the metal wasn’t as taunting. The water sounded farther away. There was only one test That could really see if it’ll work at all.

“Uuuuuhhhh,” Deimos adjusted to the sound of his own voice before he looked up at Sanford, “Say something.”

Sanford smiled. His hands moved up to hold Deimos’ shoulders. “Hi, Deimos.”

The soothingness of Sanford’s voice was back. Everything else felt like needles trying to use him as a pincushion, but needles were better than bullets. In two little words, Deimos was melting with a silly smile, finally able to straighten his vision and being held by what he saw. “Hey, Sanford. You smell like shit.”

Sanford’s snort was a happy chime in the musky air. “Yeah, because you smell any better. Works?”

“Yep, I’m just a drama queen.”

Sanford huffed. He shook his head, his hands falling down Deimos’ arm to his hands as he started to stand up. His grip wasn’t tight enough to force Deimos to stand; it was his choice to make. He took it. They didn’t let go of each other’s hands. “You’re not a drama queen. Next time, just say something, okay? Yeah, we’re in a crunch here, but there’s time for you.”

Deimos bit the inside of his lip. If he hadn’t been crying earlier, he came pretty close to then and there. He gently shoved Sanford’s shoulder, but put a hand on his bicep to keep him from actually moving. “Dammit, dude, don’t get so sentimental.”

Sanford smiled. There was his stupid, stupid man. He couldn’t help but chuckle, which made Deimos snicker under his hand before he took a step back. Unfortunately, he did have to reload his gun, because they did have to move. Sanford still kept a watchful eye out. Once Deimos was standing at the ready, Sanford couldn’t help but smirk. He flicked one of the loose pieces from the knot around his forehead. 

“If you’re a drama queen, is this your crown?” Sanford teased.

With a flushed face he waved away Sanford’s hand, the two of them in hushed laughter. Deimos shook his head, and this time Sanford knew he was fine. The playfulness in his voice was real. “I’m mostly good now, but maybe you should still shut the fuck up.”

Sanford laughed as Deimos started to walk to the opening of their hide-y hole, quickly stepping to his side. “What? Should I carry you, too, your Highness?”

Deimos groaned into a flustered laugh as Sanford grinned, gently nudging his way in front of Deimos to guide him out in the best direction. His arm still brushed against Deimos’. 

He smiled up at his partner.

“C’mon, get a move on,” Deimos said, “I still wanna get out of this place alive."

[vsrobotjulie]

why did i get a comment on a madcom fic from 3 years ago making fun of me for making deimos tall girl back then there were like 20 madcom fics total and everyone portrayed the characters as if they were in the army

[a-table-of-fics]

The Man from Utah, Chapter 7, Draft 1, Part 21

It was unsurprisingly vacant. Amid the corpses, there were still weapons strewn around from that crowded fight, and there was plenty of debris to go around.

Fletcher wasted no time in picking up an assault rifle and running to back Dan up.

“Your idiot’s gonna get torn to pieces out there,” he said. “If you see another turret, get it now!”

Liam took the hint, searching for any security systems. While he was able to kick more guns over to Fletcher, this place was no military facility; it was more of a warehouse. There were crates on top of crates across all of the walls. With his luck, they’d be full of sewing buttons or something.

Still, he opened a crate to be sure. To his surprise, he found it was full of car batteries. No weapons or anything.

His head turned and really took a look at that vending machine. The cover was already off…

ObjectiveState==SURVIVE: 17100

Dan was taking a beating. Between his struggles to keep the MAG at bay and the mercenaries aiming at his now-exposed points, he felt more blood than air on him after this.

“You can be repossessed after,” the MAG said calmly. “Move so I may settle the debt properly.”

His fists of metal ground against Dan’s sword, sending sparks and shrapnel everywhere.

“I belong,” Dan said, spitting bloody bullets out of his mouth, “to no man.”

“A renegade, then? Oh, won’t that sweeten the pot!”

Dan started to buckle as gunfire continued to hit his side through the gash in his armor. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take, but if this was where he was going to die, he was going to go out fighting.

He stepped back, letting the MAG stumble for a bit before Dan turned to his other adversaries, charging forward. He was better able to deflect their shots from this angle, and he could swing his sword still. Grace no longer mattered; so long as he still had a wide arc, he’d be able to deal some serious damage.

[oh-mother-fucket]

cannibal anon im gonna wring you /pos

[abstract-crossverse]

Can I have a oneshot where reader comforts overworked Hank? I really love your writing btw!!

Sure can do, thank you!

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

"Overworked" // [Hank x Reader, fic, fluff]

Hank sat at the trunk of the truck the duo had stolen for the trip back to base, and assuming he was exhausted was an understatement, even the funny one and the other one noticed and Hank knew that, but the two wouldn't dare point it out, at least for now until the smoker decided to open his big mouth;

Hank had just jumped on the trunk and plopped himself on the floor, unresponsive to Sanford and Deimos, not even a glance as Deimos attempted some sort of conversation. 2B was sending Hank on too many missions, way more than usual... Don't get them wrong, Hank is a very active Grunt, they're not the type to stay without a job to do for too long but this was just too much, even for them, it made them wonder if Doc was working on something bigger behind the scenes while they cleared way...

But that doesn't matter at the moment, right now Hank was just overly aware of everything touching their skin.. the heavy fabric of their coat, the leather and metal from their belts and ammo bags, their socks and boots, the mask, the bandana, the cold metal prosthetic against what's left of their face.. and the drying blood that drenched their clothes just made it all worse... They just feel so suffocated- it's been a while since they've felt like this- they never really figured out why they get so hyperaware of anything touching them sometimes and it just- uGH it almost drives them insane...

He groaned, hands shaking as he sat up and leaned against the walls of the trunk, looking out into the distance. He couldn't wait to get home, first, he needed to greet you- then put his gear to wash, and then spend time with you, the other two could report back to Doc, he doesn't care whatever that old man has to say he NEEDS to take a break.

Finally letting the world seep back into his senses only now did he realize the two were chatting, Deimos's obnoxious voice being the first thing to hit his ears, Sanford's rough laugh coming right after, rolling his eyes he leaned towards them

"do you drive any slower? When are we getting to base?" He questioned sternly, clearly annoyed they weren't 'home' yet "ey don't get ya undies in a twist, Hank, we're almost there, that communication tower was pretty far.." Deimos spoke, taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke out the right window

What a disgusting vice... Hank would've killed him already if they didn't work together... Sure Hank has smoked a handful of cigarettes in the past too. Still, he never let it become a vice, that's what grinds his gears about it, people who get too addicted to a stupid chemical reaction in their brains from plants, even with the knowledge that those kill you slowly, they didn't care, smoking kills, and if that won't, he will. Hank's crosshair scrunched slightly at the faint smell of tobacco seeping through his mask before turning his attention to Sanford speaking

"yeah, I can see the base from here, we'll be there in a few minutes."

"good." Hank said, leaning back against the trunk's wall and closing his eyes "eager to see yer 'partner in crime'? I'd be." Deimos chuckled at his remark, throwing the cigarette butt out the window after putting out the flame, Hank only huffed ".. none of your business, smoker....." He said barely above a mumble

..... 'undies in a twist'.. hah, that's funny...

---

Soon enough, Hank felt the truck go slower suddenly and park, opening his eyes as Sanford pulled the handbrake. He stood up with a groan and jumped off onto the ground, walking with long steps past the duo, who abruptly stopped talking before Deimos yelled over to Hank

"Ey! Arent ya gonna help us get the shit to Doc??" The shorter grunt motioned to the trunk with a hand, Hank barely looked over his shoulder ".. you have arms, you can do it yourself, you don't need me for that." Hank walked into the building oddly stiffly, leaving a crossed-armed Sanford and irritated Deimos behind

Walking inside, they read the living room with their eyes, finding it strange no one was there even after looking over the couch, Doc was likely where he set up the makeshift medbay as always so he didn't feel the need to stress over that, next was the kitchen, they peeked in only to find it barren, now they were starting to get nervous, where are you?

He went room to room in your search, growing more and more anxious with your missing presence, leaving the medbay for last he speed-walked his way to the corridor where the rooms were and opened the door to your shared room, relief washed over his body once he saw you mid folding your clothing and staring at him startled, he sighed

"Hank? Good to see you back but you alright?" You said while finishing folding a shirt in your hands and putting it down, walking over to him as he leaned down to gently bonk his forehead with yours "mhm.. I just got worried you were sent out for a mission and we weren't told, I didn't find you anywhere in the main rooms.."

"oh, well you have nothing to worry about, I'm fine!..." You looked down at his hands, who found their places on your waist, feeling them slightly shake with a tense grip "... You sure you're okay? You seem.. tense?" Hank huffed, he was hoping you wouldn't notice "I just... I'm not even sure, I'm hyperaware of everything touching my skin right now.. it happens at times and I don't have any idea why." He explains, letting go of you and closing the door behind him, walking to your shared bed while undoing the belts around his gear

You hummed in thought, averting your eyes not to look at him while he undressed from his gear "well.. you may be overstimulated." You mumbled, stopping Hank in his tracks "... The fuck is overstimulated?"

"It's like, you were exposed to too much visual, auditory, and/or physical stimuli, so much your brain is kinda short-circuiting in a way, which can make more irritable and easy to anger than normal, it may have a different effect on different people but that's what I've usually seen it described as."

He took a moment to let the information sink in, eyes moving ever so slightly between the floor and you, then shrugged "sounds about right, I don't know much about this kind of thing so I guess I'll trust your judgment."

You nodded, a small silence before you talked again "say, you go take a shower and cool off, I'll get your clothes to the laundry." You said, stepping over to Hank, taking his coat he had carelessly tossed on the ground, as well as his Bandana and mask, he nodded once you looked at him, he got up from the bed, briefly pressing what was left of his lips and jaw to your head before the took a set of clothes from his bag and walked out to the bathroom as you went out to the laundry room in the basement

As soon as you were back, Hank was waiting for your arrival, sitting on the mattress you call a bed waving his feet under the thin blankets you've had to stack for some sort of warmth during the cold nights. It was oddly funny to witness, it made you snicker as you made your way to the mattress yourself, Hank let himself fall onto the shitty pillows behind him—which made you jump due to his weight, you giggled as you laid down as well

Hank covered themselves up to their shoulders, laying on their side and snuggling their way to you, nuzzling into your chest with a sigh as you wrapped an arm around them, a hand gently petting their head in comfort

They wrapped their free arm around your waist, they sighed again, the cold of their jaw and hot breath felt funny through your shirt

".... I missed you." They mumbled as your hand worked it's way to gently massage their back, their thumb making gentle circles on your back

"I missed you too.." you mumbled, pressing kisses on his head "so, so much." A low rumble came from him, slowly getting louder, it was comforting, you let out a sign of your own. After a moment of silence, you spoke again "are you feeling better?"

He nodded into you with a hum, you were always so tenderly soft with him, Hank J. Wimbleton, Nevada's most wanted criminal and killer, melting into someone's arms? He thought it was impossible. He never of the day he'd meet someone as great as you

You hummed, closing your eyes as you two soaked into each other's presence, Hank stayed awake a bit more after you fell asleep, wondering how he was so lucky to have a partner such as you before he eventually fell asleep, feeling the safest and calmest he's ever felt with you in his arms.

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

[jochimochi]

RAGHH!!! DUDES, I FEEL LIKE I HAVE A WRITING BLOCKAGE!!!

I want to write so, so, so, so bad! Like, I have smth in the works but everything I seem to type out appears like a jumble mess-

I SWEAR I'M GOOD AT WRITING I SWEARRRR

[ya-killin-me-smalls]

thinking about 2bmos mutual pining

Deimos thinking he's playing it cool on the outside, not staring at all, but on the inside excited just to be around Doc, let alone getting attention from him

Doc finding Deimos's antics to get attention so endearing but not wanting to read too far into them. Deimos is a silly guy, he's just messing around

Deimos downplaying his technical skills so he has an excuse to swing by Doc's office and "ask for help"

Doc going out of his way to put Deimos on more desk duty under the guise of sharpening his skills but really he just wants him around more often

Deimos learning that the more carnage he causes the higher the praise he gets, going as far as bringing back decapitated heads of high value targets until the custodians start to complain about the blood trails

Doc assuming attentiveness and perpetual readiness to work is just Deimos needing something to do and wanting to be useful

Deimos thinking that Doc would never even consider it because he's his subordinate and way too busy to have time for little old him

Doc hung up on how handsome Deimos is, thankful for the mask because he flusters any time they're in close proximity

both of them trying and failing to act natural when Deimos is shirtless and having his wounds tended to by Doc, but neither of them addressing the elephant in the room for fear of messing up what they have going on between them