#maybe other people are medicated or just better at masking

[captain-mj]

I’m gonna need Roacj to come and sweep Simon off his feet and Soap to be heart broken and full of regret. He doesn’t deserve Ghost

Why not!! Previous part for my folks interested

Ghost had listened to Price for once and he hadn't touched Soap's messages. Eventually, they slowed down, but eight days after the incident and he still received one each morning and each night. They ran into each other a few times, but Ghost would simply walk right past him.

Price managed to get Ghost permission to use his flat, due to how close base was, for the next little while which was a huge relief for him.

It had gotten late at night and Ghost had taken another "special cigar" from Price and he checked the most recent message from Soap. Just the most recent one.

"Please, Si, talk to me. It won't happen again." From two hours ago.

Ghost thought it over and then texted back. "Soap, we're not going to work out. Easier for us both to cut our losses."

"That's all you have to say? We exchanged I love you's. I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life."

"And how many people this week have you given that line too, huh? Either zip it or get blocked."

When another message came through, he went to his most recent messages with Price. "I want to go on that date. With Bug or whatever his name is."

"Roach, but yeah. I can make it happen." Price answered a little too fast and Ghost decided he didn't want to know why he was still up at this hour. He blocked Soap for the time being and enjoyed the rest of his high until he managed to fall asleep.

By morning, he had received the information for a reservation at 7 pm at a restaurant he liked well enough. A little more formal than he'd choose for a first date, but he planned to use Price's card for it anyway. Ever since Graves started funding the man, he had more money than he really needed and Ghost was more than happy to help him with the problem.

He didn't unblock Soap to see how many new messages he sent. He simply left his phone on his dresser and went about his day until 6. Only then did he check his phone to see a message from a new number. "Hey, Ghost! This is Roach (or Bug lol). I wanted to text you before we went on our date."

Ghost winced when he saw the poor guy had sent that message had been sent hours ago. "Left my phone in my room."

It took a few minutes before he heard the little ding of his phone. "That's alright. I know you're a busy man. Are you planning on wearing your mask tonight?"

Then a selfie came and Ghost regretted not taking Price up on this blind date sooner. Roach had his mask on, but his eyes and hair were free. He was so cute. Ghost didn't usually use that word to describe men, but that's what Roach was.

Big brown eyes and the hint of freckles. Soft looking hair that curled and stuck up everywhere. "I wanted to make sure you knew what I looked like."

Ghost hesitated before sending a picture of himself, just a medical mask on so they were on semi equal footing.

"You're just as handsome as Laswell said you would be."

His heart did something weird. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. "Thanks. You're not bad yourself."

"You flatter me, Ghost. I do need to talk to you about something before we go tonight."

Ghost gritted his teeth. "Alright."

"I'm mute. I carn hear just fine and I'm willing to text or write things down."

"Do you know BSL?"

"The basics. I mostly use ASL."

"We'll use BSL until I'm better ASL then. I'll meet you tonight, I'm going to get dressed before I'm late. It would be a horrible first impression."

Roach responded with a thumbs up. Unknown to Ghost, Roach was glad for the reprieve because Ghost casually letting him know he'd just learn a language for him before they even went on a first date (as well as letting him know they had an easy way to communicate until he finished learning the language) had his own heart doing palpitations. And that was before he even thought of Ghost's picture again.

Handsome had been understating it. He had wanted to actually ask Ghost if he wanted a new dog because he could be a really good one. But Laswell and Price had let him on the fact that Ghost's last relationship hadn't ended very well and that he'd need to be eased into it a little. So he pulled himself back and gave a much more calm response.

Both of them met each other in the front of the restaurant while waiting for host to seat them. The sparks were immediate, Ghost finding himself having a hard time looking away from Roach's eyes.

Roach pulled out Ghost's seat which surprised him a little. He still sat down though and hummed his appreciation. "Also, I'll be paying. More accurately, Price will be paying."

Even with only half of his face showing and no voice, Roach was easily the most expressive person Ghost had ever seen. They found ASL and BSL had more common signs than they first thought, but occasionally they'd run into signs with different or even contradictory meanings that would make them bring out their phones to compare.

"Oh, do you want me to order for ya? I can't imagine it's that easy ordering." While Ghost was sure that the staff would try to be accommodating, if Roach didn't want to deal with it, he'd be happy to help.

Roach immediately looked relieved and nodded, showing Ghost what he wanted. He was leaning forward and Ghost could see the start of the scar at the base of his throat that led underneath the mask.

Roach was incredibly smart. Not that Soap wasn't, he was mad at him, but he didn't think he was stupid as some people joked. But Roach had such in depth knowledge about a long, long list of topics and he didn't shy away from learning more about any gaps.

Occasionally Roach would single for Ghost to pull his mask down. He almost managed to keep the waitstaff from seeing his face at all, though there were a few times Roach had visibly been too wrapped up in what he was saying to notice when one of them was coming. He was less shy about showing his face than Ghost, though he clearly didn't like it.

They spent so much time talking, about how different insects are classified and the differences between British and American branches and what it's like being mute in the military, especially since his muteness was caused by an injury from the military, that the waitress had to not so subtly interrupt to ask if there was two bills or one.

Ghost told her one and gave her Price's card, eyes never leaving Roach's. He didn't want the night to end. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"

Roach signed back. "Want to get milkshakes and walk around somewhere?"

Ghost thought that was a very bizarre thing to do. "Yeah. Why not."

So they left. They hired an uber and kept talking, switching to only sign language so the poor driver wouldn't hear them arguing over the superior breakfast food. Ghost didn't actually believe it was beans on toast, but he knew he drove any not from Britain crazy. Roach was insisting it was biscuits and gravy. Eventually, the bug brushed him off and said he'd make them for him in the morning.

"Oh? That convinced we'll go home together?"

Roach glanced at him. "If it's not moving too fast for you."

Ghost blinked at him, stopping and actually thinking about it. "Yeah. I'd like to take you home."

Roach smiled. "You owe me a milkshake first though."

Ghost did in fact buy him a milkshake, with his own card even, before they walked around a park. At one point, Roach motioned at Ghost's milkshake a few times and Ghost offered him a taste. Roach tried his chocolate malt and nodded appreciatively. He offered his banana milkshake for Ghost to try. They didn't break eye contact as he tried it.

"It's good."

Roach smiled at him and moved a little closer. He used just one of his hands, but he signed it real slow. "Want to see what they taste like together?"

Ghost was kissing him before he even finished.

They did, in fact, go back to Ghost's flat and got very acquainted with his bed specifically.

And Roach did make him biscuits and gravy in the morning. Ghost reluctantly admitted that it beat beans on toast. Then, he admitted he didn't actually like beans on toast.

Roach hit his shoulder rather hard and ate with a little faux anger until that got boring and he was back to talking. Well, in between bites of food.

When the doorbell rang, Ghost's heart sank. "Not many people have my address." He grabbed a gun.

Roach looked a little amused at the weapon but nodded and made a motion for his own. Ghost did indeed provide one to him before pullling on a mask and answering the door.

Johnny was there. He was only Johnny cause he was out of uniform. "Hey."

"Hi." Simon felt disillusioned. The past 12 or so hours had honestly been perfect. With Soap, he had always had to explain things. Push back. There was always an effort on both parts to make the other feel comfortable. And while Roach seemed more than willing to put in effort and Ghost definitely felt he would, it didn't feel necessary to. They just kinda... fit in a way Ghost was realizing that he never did with Soap.

It was a weird thought. When he found out about Soap's casual fucking of half the base, he prepared himself to spiral. And he had even started. But now that he had a very successful date, and the most mind blowing night of his life cause Roach knew how to do things with his tongue, he felt like he had very suddenly just moved on. He didn't even notice it had happened. During his whole date, Soap hadn't crossed his mind at all.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Ghost responded, cause it was. While the memory still hurt and he wasn't sure he could work with Soap any time soon, it took more energy at this point to keep thinking about it. Energy he didn't want to keep spending on MacTavish. "Listen, I'm busy."

"Going somewhere? I can walk with you. I would like to... talk..." Soap was looking past Ghost now and directly at Roach.

"Ah. This is Sergeant Sanderson. He's American, visiting in the area for a mission Laswell sent him on."

"And he's wearing your clothes?"

"We also slept together."

Soap's face went through a range of emotions. Jealousy, guilt, a strange tinge of relief that Ghost didn't want to unpack, then anger that didn't fit the situation in Ghost's opinion. He didn't respond. It felt like they just ran out of things to say. "Simon."

Roach used the butt of the gun, tapping it against the wall. His eyes narrowed at Soap with a strangely dangerous look.

"Ghost."

Another tap against the wall.

"Lieutenant Riley." Soap hissed through his teeth.

Roach seemed satisfied with that, grabbing Ghost's arm and leaning against his side. He tugged his sleeve to get his attention and jerked his head back to show he wanted to get back to eating with him.

"Sorry, bug. If you want to go sit down, I'll only be another minute."

Roach didn't look sure but nodded. He grabbed Ghost's hand and gave it a small kiss through the fabric of his mask. Ghost wasn't sure he even knew when he put it back on, but he looked just as lovely either way.

Only when Roach was clearly gone, did Soap speak back up. "Replace me that fast huh?"

"At least I made it clear we were through before fucking him."

"Look-"

"No." Ghost cut him off and shook his head. "I don't want to fight. Truly, I don't. We're done. I don't want this. I don't want you."

Soap frowned more and there was clearly hesitation. "Si."

"I never liked that nickname. My brother used it when we were little. I realized last night you never asked. First thing Roach did was ask if I had any family left. He's incredibly considerate. He's so nice to me. Last night, he did things while we were out that I couldn't remember anyone doing for me before. The man made me breakfast for fuck's sake."

"I could've made you breakfast." It sounded vaguely petulant. A last plea of some sorts that fell flat before it even left his tongue.

"Yeah. You could've."

Roach had finished his plate and looked a little upset. He signed at him. "I didn't like how he talked to you."

"I saw. Don't like people calling me Simon."

Roach shook his head. "You're a lieutenant. They should call you that."

"They? You not included in that Sergeant?"

"I get special privileges."

"Cause you're pretty?"

"Cause I'm yours."

[doctorweebmd]

someone pointed out something I did the other day that I didn’t really notice I do and then I was like….. yeah why do I do that and turns out it’s stimming. And apparently I do it. A lot.

[lovifie]

Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️

Masterlist - Taglist Form

All Chapters

Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋

Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism

“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”

That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.

It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission. 

You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside. 

But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.

Ghost panicked.

And Simon panicked.

You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size. 

You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him. 

You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.

His Johnny was gone.

The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.

Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.

But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.

He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.

But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.

Oh, what a coward he was. 

Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning. 

And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.

He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.

Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.

But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?

So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.

Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it. 

But it was too late now.

Maybe it was for the better.

He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny. 

Not because they would have not loved him back. 

Not because they would have been scared of him.

Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask. 

Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.

It's easier like this.

Simon knows how to mourn a loved one. 

What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.

You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.

“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body. 

You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.

“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.

You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.

“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.

There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.

You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.

“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”

Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.

God, how he hated his gloves right now. 

He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.

He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast. 

He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest. 

Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…

He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.

He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.

But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.

It's you who is crying.

And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing. 

“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too. 

“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.

For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms. 

Warm and breathing. 

He can only imagine what you went through. 

You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse. 

How did you get out?

How did anyone see you get out?

How did you find a house?

How did you survive alone with the guilt?

Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?

Were you trapped under the debris?

For how long?

But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him. 

He already knew that. 

Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment. 

It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.

“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.

And that's all that is needed to hear.

Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.

There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny. 

A scarred, angry Johnny. 

Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.

Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.

“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.

That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.

“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease. 

You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.

Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel. 

You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately. 

And then you kiss him.

On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.

But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart. 

He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else. 

He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other. 

Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning. 

He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.

You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes. 

You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked. 

“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”

“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.

You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.

“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”

You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”

“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.

“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”

Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”

“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.

“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.

Ghost feels Price's eyes on him. 

Wondering.

Asking.

What's between you and him?

What's between you and Soap?

What's inside his mind?

“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.

They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.

But Ghost can't. 

Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest. 

That's his boy.

Breathing and warm.

Just like you.

He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.

Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.

That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.

He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon. 

Not the greatest first impression. 

Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years? 

You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour. 

You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.

And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.

He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.

A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.

The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.

The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection. 

The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.

But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.

And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him. 

“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”

And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.

He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.

He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up. 

Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him. 

The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.

“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.

“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”

And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you. 

“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat. 

He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care. 

He has made his choice.

He loves you.

He loves Johnny.

He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.

His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.

His blood running cold.

“Johnny…”

It's your sweet voice moaning the name. 

The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.

“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.

“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.

“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear. 

“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length. 

He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed. 

With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.

Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.

Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.

So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.

He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.

But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.

Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.

As he mouths “Fuck you.”

And Simon wants to laugh.

Johnny wants to play?

Then they'll play.

Game's on.

@waiting-so-long

Taglist: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 @mikaronn

[luvissues]

hmm thinking about simon x reader, except he’s finally found someone who might be a little fucked up too, just not in the way he’s used to

cw: smoking, drugs/medication ?? sort of

He’s used to the problems that soldiers like himself face; the world-weary men hardened by their work. He’s used to the permanent shadows etched deep under his Captain’s eyes and the way the Sergeants will reach for a holster on their thigh that isn’t there. He’s used to the ringing in his ears that comes by when he isn’t surrounded by the cacophony of war and the erratic jump of his heart when he goes about without a mask on. He’s accustomed to it now.

That’s not to say he isn’t welcoming to other things- he can laugh at a bar after a long mission, he can find comfort in the familiarity of a team. He’s put in the effort not to turn so completely numb to the world, but he’s not entirely normal, either. Always at an arms length from embracing a life outside of his work, a firm line in the sand.

Sometimes, he wonders. Wonders what it might be like the remove the distance, to welcome that life. He knows it’s possible. He sees the thick metal band around Price’s finger and the wrinkled corners of photos tucked away in Johnny’s pocket. He sees how eager Gaz is to pack up for home after a mission- too excited to be going back to an ‘empty’ house. It’s possible, maybe, but it’s a far and foreign concept.

There’s nothing about him that would draw in the kind of softness he craves. Nothing about the puckered silver lines that highlight his face or the patches of mangled flesh on his body that would appeal to a partner. He tries to tell himself that it’s just his body; the wounds that never fully healed. Tells himself that any person would be scared of a man with such a build, all hulking height and weight.

He knows it’s not just the body, at the end of the day, but he can tell himself otherwise. He’ll pretend the vacancy of his eyes or the way he gets put on edge by even the quiet ticking of a clock isn’t a part of it. He’ll pretend the way he wakes up at night, sweating and delirious and maybe too eager to fight enemies that aren’t there, isn’t a part of it.

That’s his problem. No matter where he is, no matter how safe or secure, he will always be one of the world-weary men.

His teammates had learned how to reel it in. They learned not to flinch at every unexpected touch of their lovers’ hand, learned how to keep their night terrors at bay. They learned how to soothe, how to comfort. They taught themselves it all, had built that life aside from their work. That’s the concept Simon couldn’t ever seem to perfect.

Simon doesn’t expect a sweet little bird to fall right into his lap. People know better than to pry open the jaws of a hungry animal, to offer themselves up- to loosen the shackles of a needy dog and let it get close. But maybe he doesn’t need a sweet little bird. Maybe he needs you.

He needs someone who’s a little roughed up, who’s not so fragile that he has to worry about breaking them for simply getting too close.

I’d like to think this person would’ve had bad luck, too. Someone who was never quite enough, even if they weren’t marred by war. Someone like Simon, who people knew not to get too friendly with. Another hungry mutt.

You two aren’t exactly the same. He sees the way you try to fill up space when you’re out smoking on the porch. Sees the muscles of your shoulders flex when you straighten your back, fix your posture. He sees how little you feel, and how you compensate for it physically.

He’s the opposite. Broad shoulders hunched in and back arched down. One foot crossed over the other, his head low. He knows he takes up too much space, and tries to cave in to make up for it. In that way, you compliment each other. Opposites, yes, but the space you fill is now equal.

Simon watches the skinny cigarette that dangles off your fingers, observes the flex of your knuckles when you bring it up for a drag. The motion is slow, languid, unlike the way his thick digits clench the cig in his own hand. He curls the muscles tight, willing them to shrink. The way you let your fingers twiddle and stretch freely is nothing like the way he attempts to conceal his own hands, rough and scarred and dirty. Still, maybe in that way, you compliment each other.

In the same manner, Simon will always observe the way you fish your pill box from your bag when it’s time to take your meds. Nothing about it is hurried. The way you tilt the metal open, the dosage falling into your palm. He watches you flutter around in search of something to wash it down with, as if you have all the time in the world.

You, in turn, ignore Simon when he takes his. Ignore how the bottles are stuffed at the bottom of his bag, how he closes his eyes when they slide into his mouth. You turn an eye to the way he swallows them dry, like if he takes them fast enough, he might forget they were even there.

The way you act is not the same, no. But you follow the same motions, have put the same distance between yourselves and a normal life. Maybe you could help each other finally close that gap?

It’s hard. Part of Simon is still afraid that you’re fragile, even with the space you’re not scared to take up. He’s scared that he’s accidentally caught a fleeting little bird, and he’s scared that one day, he will grow too much. He will crush it.

The man who tries to hide away from himself is dreading the day his grip loosens, and he again fills too much space. It will suffocate you. It will choke you out. Either the blood caked under his nails or the soot weighing heavy in his lungs or the flashes of gunfire he still sees when he lets his eyes slip closed for too long- something. He will fail, and even if he is accustomed to it, you could never be. That’s what will suffocate you, he thinks. All the things that have deterred everyone so far will eventually turn you away, too.

Simon’s problem is mistaking your dainty grace for weakness; but the pills you take, the heavy clouds of smoke- it’s no different from himself.

So what if there’s a bow tied around the knife you keep under your pillow? A knife is a knife. It’s a weapon as good as any. And with the gun he keeps on the bedside table, your room is perfectly secure.

Your cigarettes go next to each other on the counter and your pills go side by side in the medicine cabinet. Your knife rests safely under his head and his gun is nestled perfectly within your reach.

Maybe you can’t ever fix each other. Maybe the distance towards a normal life will never be closed. But, Simon never did think he’d end up with a little bird. Maybe it’s better if he has someone like you, another lousy hound, to take his hand.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ good one | thomas hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; references to extreme violence, stockholm syndrome i suppose?, kidnapping

♡ notes; this was literally supposed to be porn but instead here’s some weird sappy stuff lol

anyways hopefully more fics soon, writers block and rehearsals have been a bitch and a half

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

It was a wonder you were still alive. That’s what you thought about, sitting and fidgeting in the strange bedroom with your ankle shackled. Was shackled the right word if it was tied with rope? Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were fairly certain you’d fall prey to the crazy folks running around the place soon enough. The group you’d hitched a ride with was already long gone- one you’d watched get shot point blank by the bullshit sheriff. The others….well, you heard the chainsaw and the screaming. It was an easy conclusion to come to, especially after you saw the bloody smears on the hardwood downstairs.

You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been hacked into bits yet. You’d been indistinguishable from the others- just another wandering twenty-something with tight clothes and next to no money. The only thing you could think of was that gas station. Your companions had been such dicks to the lady at the counter- of course you apologized to her. She’d been just as kind in return, she even snuck a candy into your bag of sodas and snacks. She was the one who’d sent you that way, towards the farm house.

You stilled, train of thought lost as you heard footsteps. Heavy and slow- they were somehow more intimidating than any angry stomping could have been. You curled your legs up defensively, eyes trained on the door. The person stood there more than a second, silent and just as still as you were holding. If you hadn’t been listening so intently, you would have thought they turned and walked away. But then there was some quiet mumbling- a woman’s voice, maybe?- and the door creaked open.

“Go on Tommy dear- I found a good one for you.”

You’d never seen a man so tall- with shoulders so broad or arms and torso so solid. He was massive. He was terrifying. And he was attractive. Once your eyes unglued themselves from his figure you finally took in the rest. Dark, thick shoulder-length waves. A mask that seemed useless as any sort of medical device thanks to the open mouth. Eyes that were dark but not brown. Maybe blue, maybe gray..maybe just pure black. Like a shark’s. In other circumstances you'd be reduced to a puddle on floor over him. But the bloodstains on his shirt didn’t go unnoticed.

You watched him closely, and he watched you just as alertly, stalking forward like some jungle cat…No. Wait. That wasn’t right. He didn’t look scared, but he was cautious, keeping some distance. Maybe a better allegory would be he looked like he was trying to corner a feral kitten- not wanting you to swipe or dart away. As if doing either was possible. You were frozen with fear, though found the courage to lean back a bit as he stepped forward. He grunted softly and persisted, nearly trembling as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

Love at first sight was a stupid fucking concept. That you’d always believe. Maybe something in you just broke that same moment, maybe you were just too exhausted to think even close to straight. Maybe both. But when you and this massive man locked eyes, there was an instant understanding. He was already yours- and more importantly, you’d be his. He just had to stake his claim.

“…you’re Tommy?” You practically whispered. He nodded quickly. You got a sense he didn’t speak much, but you told him your name in return and tried to think of anything to talk about to stall the inevitable. “…you killed those people?” You blurted for some godforsaken reason. He tensed, still hovering over you. “It’s okay.” You added quickly “I didn’t actually know them. They were kinda mean.”

He furrowed his brow just a bit and searched your face, for any signs that you were lying. Before he came to a conclusion, you gave a soft sigh, instinctively leaning into the hand that had raised your face to him. Something immediately softened about him, and he rubbed your cheek in awe. The sleepy giggle it caused seemed almost to startle him. It was like no one had ever been that soft with him. Maybe they hadn’t. “….this is your room right? Can we sleep?”

Tommy still seemed in shock but carefully nodded, undoing his apron and seeming at a loss of what to do next. He frowned a bit as he noticed your bindings and quickly undid the knot that kept you stuck there. His guard was down- you could try to run. But you didn’t want to. Doing so would only be tiring. You wanted to let go. So instead you smiled softly and simply opened your arms, letting him cuddle up with you. It took him a minute to get settled, and all the while treating you so delicately… like you were made of glass. He looked up at you, again searching your face in near confusion. He grunted in surprise as you pecked his forehead. His mama really did find him a good one.

[zev-rynna]

I am made aware of the controversy around Jiyan on how he became the general and the terrible story writing from the writers part.

Jiyan has been called names like “Run-away General”, “The Faux General” etc etc, and the complaints that Jiyan is a hypocritical character that judged Geshu Lin’s decision making and yet made the exact same decision Geshu Lin made in the end.

Honestly speaking, I don’t doubt the possibility of terrible writing on Kuro’s part but I wonder if this also reflected the complexity of human nature in the sense that there’s just no perfectly evil/bad person (in this case Geshu Lin) or the perfectly good/right person (in this case Jiyan)? Maybe it was written this way, but wasn’t properly done? Idk..

This is going to be long, bear with me…

Geshu fought the battle and was almost winning, and he has lost too many people to back off. And in his “conversation” with Jiyan, he did also highlighted that backing down and running away will not do justice to all those lives he carried behind his back. It’s true, when it’s war, if you decide to back down knowing you could’ve won, you have nothing to explain to those who have lost their lives in previous battles. Geshu Lin carried all those lives with him, and in his knowledge, the retroact rain’s effect was relatively unknown to him, and his arrogance or overconfidence may have resulted in him disregarding the significance and danger of the unknown. And Geshu Lin was born a warrior, fighting to win battles also means sacrifices have to be made, and therefore his actions reflected his values.

On the other hand, Jiyan was born a medic. His values revolved around saving lives, and the purpose of winning certain battles is to ensure better lives for his people. So if a war caused too many sacrifices, is that war still considered a win for his people? And so with his knowledge and his instincts on the catastrophe that may happen due to the retroact rain, with no Geshu Lin in sight, he made the choice to save as many people as he can by ordering a retreat. I believe at that point, he has no intention to override Geshu Lin’s authority or to made Geshu Lin the “bad guy”, but solely to save the people left to save before they all perished.

But the society (Jinzhou citizens) will need someone to blame. This is the reflection of how humans are like. When loss is too big and incomprehensible, the tendencies to blame become prevalent. In that situation, without knowing all sorts of context, Geshu Lin led to the death of the people and Jiyan was the one who ensured lives saved. Jiyan naturally became the hero and Geshu Lin the villain.

I don’t believe that Jiyan personally wanted to reprimand Geshu Lin or try to taint his reputation so it can make his “promotion” to General more believable. Yes he did not agree with Geshu Lin’s ideals, but I don’t think the whole “Geshu Lin was the cause of this tragedy” talk was started by him. It was the people who needed a hero and someone to blame during the difficult times. Then he was chosen to be General, and when you get to a position like that, confiding in people to tell them how you truly feel becomes a luxury because people start to rely on you and in order for them to respect you and able to lead an army, you have to be composed, and mask all forms of doubts.

When Rover came as prophesised, Jiyan was seen having a “conversation” with Geshu Lin before the war, and Jiyan was mostly quiet on his part. You can sense his doubts manifesting as he is about to make the exact same decision Geshu Lin made years ago, and he questions himself. But then again, Jiyan was flamed incredibly cuz of the irony that he did in fact made the same decision Geshu Lin did, but Jiyan was in the luxury to make that decision knowing what he knew, and having Rover by his side made the odds significantly better. And this was what made the fans/anti-fans so bitter about Jiyan because this was pure hypocrisy at play, especially it made Jiyan looked weak cuz everyone knew the outcome may have been the same as years ago if Rover was not present. But that’s the thing, if Rover was absent, I don’t think Jiyan would’ve made the decision he made.

The tragedy was that Geshu Lin was too quick to be burnt on the stake by people who were desperate to find closure. And the situation Geshu Lin was in, made this grey in the sense that no one truly knew what happened at the war zone and Geshu Lin did not have everything that the people know now about the Retroact rain and Rover to made the war of his time a success. Jiyan has that, that was his luck. But how does one blame Jiyan for that? After all, luck is an also huge component of strength. And probably (just a speculation) - the irony of Jiyan making the same decision as Geshu Lin may be a foreshadowing of Geshu Lin’s return to mock the hypocrisy of the entire ordeal, including the people who blamed him.

The whole situation where Geshu Lin was strongly blamed as the villain and Jiyan was depicted as the hero and the best person ever was so overly exaggerated, I don’t think this was what Jiyan meant for to happen. And I know a lot of people say that “well but Jiyan took all those compliments bla bla”. But he was promoted to general though, he cannot just come out and disregard what people said about him because he needed these people’s vote of confidence, and during those dark times, he is in no position to show any form of doubts. But it doesn’t mean that he didn’t mourn the loss of respect and reputation of Geshu Lin when he’s alone.

I’m upset Jiyan got too much hate for this. This was a perfect depiction of how complex humans are and how things cannot be black and white. It’s so nuance that I’m not sure if I properly explained it in words.

Then again, I really like Jiyan’s character, although I have the admit, the writing was terribly done, which may have caused so much backlash cuz of all the unsaid things. I felt that with a little bit more of explanation on the plot and Jiyan’s thought process would’ve significantly helped with Jiyan’s character building. Now Geshu Lin is so well loved cuz everyone felt that Jiyan stole all that belonged to him. I wouldn’t say Geshu Lin was entirely innocent despite the fault of the people who were quick to blame him, but that’s for another day.

Again, there isn’t a perfectly evil person, just like there isn’t a perfectly good person. People are complicated and one action does not justify the other.

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal, Part 18

WC: 1565, Masterpost

“Here to bring me to a debrief?” Danny asks the shadow lurking in the doorway. He swears that Batman almost looks chastised at that. “It’s fine, Batman, I know how these things work.”

“The core Titans are insisting on being there, for moral support,” Batman rumbles. “If you aren’t comfortable with that, they’ll be sent away.”

Danny chuckles; that really is like them. “No, I might as well only go through it all once. Besides, that’s sweet. Can I at least take the time to put on real clothing?”

Batman narrows his eyes at Danny. “You’re still injured. Loose clothing only.”

“Gods, how does no one see what a dad you are,” Danny teases.

Batman smiles, just for a moment, before he turns to sweep over dramatically out of the room. “I’ll send in Flash with some approved clothing.”

“That better be my Flash you’re sending in!” Danny calls after Batman. When the doorway is free of the luring hero, Danny lets himself fall back against the pile of pillows.

A debrief. How is he supposed to explain any of this? So far he hasn’t been allowed to explain things, really. Part of it is that he’s spent most of the last several days asleep. When he has been awake, it’s to a rotating cast of heroes; all heroes that he was close to and knew behind the mask. With every able bodied hero busy with clean up, no one has been able to stay long. He sees Barry the most, what with the other’s leg, but even Barry is busy helping coordinate the recovery efforts.

(Danny’s also pretty sure that they’re using the chance to visit him as a way to make people take a break.)

While the heroes are with him, it’s been mostly Danny getting updated on everyone and whoever is with him getting information to update everyone else with. They won’t even let him work, but they do pass on information about his crews at least. It’s Wally who’s with him the most. Wally was there the first time Danny woke and as Danny breathed through panic attacks and to patiently reply to the endless stream of messages for Danny.

Speak of the devil… Danny’s phone chimes again.

He can’t look at it.

He hasn’t been able to look at it since the first message from Jasmine came in. Since they all remembered.

Wally hadn’t asked. He had just let Danny shake apart in his arms and has handled Danny’s phone from then on. ‘This is Danny’s boyfriend. He’s alive and will recover. He’ll contact you at a later time.’

“I thought we put that thing on silent,” Wally says with a glare at the phone as he steps into the room.

Danny makes shameless grabby hands at the clothing. “So did I. Who is it?”

Danny’s proud that his voice doesn’t shake at the question.

Maybe it’s fair that they’ve all been avoiding the big big questions. Maybe it really is obvious that he’s still only hanging on by a thread. He certainly feels less like a live wire and more like the one, stubborn fuse still humming in the circuit breaker.

He certainly feels weak.

“Jasmine again.”

Danny sucks in a staggered breath and lets it out slowly. “Just… just tell her that I’m sorry, but I can’t yet.”

Wally presses a kiss to Danny’s temple. “I’ll remind her that you’re healing too. You just worry about getting dressed.”

“What, don’t want to help out with that part?” teases Danny as he undid the tie at the base of his neck. The Watchtower might have pretty nice quality, but any medical garb was going to be a little scratchy, and Danny is glad to have it off. He’s careful with his taped over IV port as he slides on the plain white shirt and then the well worn hoodie. It has a faded Nightwing logo and smells like Wally.

Something in Danny’s chest relaxes a little as he buries his face into the fabric and it nearly makes him sob.

“Danny?”

Danny just shakes his head.

“Oh, babe, it’s okay, I’m here. I have you.” Wally tosses the phone onto the bed and wraps Danny up into a hug. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been around—”

“Don’t, you were saving lives,” Danny says and tucks his face against Wally’s neck. “It’s what you needed to be doing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m here now. I’ve officially been pulled off duty. My job right now is you.”

“I don’t want to take you away from anything important.”

“You aren’t. Babe, you’re why we’re all still here. Let yourself be cared for, okay? I promise if anything comes up that really needs my help I’ll go, but let me make you my priority,” Wally urges.

Danny closes his eyes. “I told myself I’d never ask that of you. I know what you are.”

“You aren’t, I’m offering. Please, babe, let me make you my priority.”

He wants to. Gods does he want to. He wants to go back home to their apartment and have Wally with him and just let the other take care of everything, just for a little bit, just until it stopped feeling like his insides were hollow. Just until he could be okay enough to lie and say that he was fine.

Just until then.

“Okay. I— yeah, okay. I think I need that right now,” Danny manages to admit.

“Thank you,” Wally whispers like it was Danny doing him the great service. “First act, let’s get you out of those pants.”

“You cad,” Danny gasps dramatically.

Wally rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling now so Danny counts it as a win. “And get you into the sweatpants.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to debrief in sweats,” Danny says as he lets Wally help him finish changing. He’s a little less balanced in his feet than he’d like to be.

Okay, a lot less balanced.

Wally doesn’t even let him walk to the debrief, instead he insists on pushing Danny there in a wheelchair. Danny knows there’s no shame in needing a wheelchair, but it doesn’t help him be less frustrated at the way he feels weak down to his bones. Hell, he feels weak down to is core. At least he gets to move himself to a regular chair once they’re inside the conference room.

"Thank you for being willing to do this, Danny,” Wonder Woman says. She’s leaning forward, arms resting on the table, and offering a smile. At the table is a selection of other top tier members: Batman, Superman, a Green Lantern (Hal Jordan in this case), John Constantine, Zatanna, and, right next to Danny, Barry.

The Titans are off to the side, slightly behind the Dark members, in chairs that were obviously dragged into the room. Garfield gives Danny an enthusiastic thumbs up that almost makes him laugh.

“Of course. I get why there are questions,” Danny says instead.

“There are,” Superman agreed. “Now, as you aren’t a Justice League member and are in no way under any sort of investigation, this is going to be a bit informal. We’re just trying to make sure our report on recent events are as clear as possible.”

Danny huffs out a breath of air. His gaze darts over to Wally before dropping. “It’s a big more than that, isn’t it?”

“Kid?” Barry asks gently.

“You all want to know what I am, which is fair. If I could have, I would have told you.” Danny looks back at Wally again and gives a half hearted smile. “Sorry I couldn’t.”

“Why couldn’t you?” Batman asks, though the rumble of words isn’t unkind.

A sour smile twists Danny’s lips. “Curses are like that. Aren't they, Laughing Magician?” Danny hears Constantine and sucks in a breath and steels himself to look up at him. “How much do you know about her? About Desiree?”

Constantine shakes his head. “Not much. It’s not wise to go digging into the affairs of a member of the Infinite Realms, even an ended one.”

“Speak normal for the rest of us,” Hal says. “A who of what?”

“Infinite realms. That means a sodding ghost,” Constantine snaps.

Barry scoffs. “Ghost’s aren’t real.”

“Boo,” Danny replies. His smile is slightly too wide.

“Not funny, Danny.”

Danny shrugs. “Not trying to be. I’m half ghost.”

“How is someone half ghost?” Hal asks.

“I’m like Schrödinger’s Cat,” Danny explains. He can’t help for for his gaze to flick over to where the Titans are sitting and find Wally’s eyes. “I’m still in the box, basically. I’m half alive and half dead. Both and neither. A balance.”

“A myth.” Constantine leans forward. He taps the butt of his unlit cigarette against the table. “Or so we always thought. You telling me that you’re a halfa?”

The question pulls Danny’s focus back to the main table of heroes. “Yep. One of three. Me, my godfather, and my clone.”

Superman clears his throat. “Ah, your clone?”

Danny just gives another shrug. “Shit gets weird when you’re a teenage vigilante.”

“Danny,” Batman says, and Danny can’t help but smile again because the man is clearly one step away from pinching the bridge of his nose like he does as Bruce when one of his children is driving him mad. “Start from the beginning. State your name for the record.”

“Danny Jasper Fenton.”

---

AN: Vote was in favor of splitting it up. I've got a chunk of the next part written, so hopefully I can get it finished up next week! Sorry if there are lots of issues, words and me are struggling atm.

Poor Danny is really struggling with things as his world has once again changed. And what will everyone think of him now...?

I no longer tag, instead you can subscribe to the masterpost.

[maximoffcarter]

It'll be okay.

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x reader.

Warnings: Mentions of COVID.

Summary: Emily Prentiss was known to always taking care of her team, taking full responsibility of everything, taking the blame, making sure they were okay, etc. But, it was true that she never let anyone know the hard time she was having, that was until y/n entered her life.

A/n: This was requested by anon, and gotta say I dunno if this is even good but I wrote what I felt was right. It’s angst with comfort and fluff😌 I added some backstory cause why nooooot? I mostly based this on the first episode, and maybe after the season ends, I'll do a better one, but I believe this was good enough for now haha. Our baby really does need some comfort and a goddamn break🥹 I also did not proof read this, I never do until it's too late haha, so my apologies. Hope you guys enjoy this, leave comments, hearts, whatever you like and reblog so this gets some love🫶🏻

*not my gif*

COVID had definitely taken a toll on the BAU, not only had the world stopped but a lot of things had happened then. People died, people left, the world entirely changed, and there was no stopping, no one could actually stop it. Emily Prentiss had tried to make it work, to make things a little easier as she tried to focus on her job every single day, drowning in paperwork, zoom meetings, not being able to freely do what they were so used on doing, it had been a hard year. Not only that, but the fact that her breakup had been so messy, but that was the least of all the other things she was going through. Emily thought it couldn’t have gone worse, but then y/n was very present in her life. It was funny the day where it all had gone down.

It was the end of the most painful and difficult year, 2021 was about to arrive, just a week for the so awaited new year. And it so happened that on Christmas day, Emily had gotten COVID. She was in complete denial of being sick, more so because she needed to work, and she also had nothing to help her with the undeniable symptoms; the unbearable headache and body ache, the obvious fever, the terrible cold that her body felt, the stupid and annoying coughing and the stupid stuffed nose. Yes, there was no denial she was sick, but of course she wouldn’t admit how bad it was. But that didn’t stop y/n from going into action and deciding to go to Emily. Emily had been on the phone with her a few hours earlier, and when y/n noticed how bad this had gotten, she couldn’t stop herself from getting everything she needed and off to Emily’s house she was.

“What…on earth are you doing h-here.” Emily was interrupted with a cough, her hand soon landing on her chest as she felt the horrible pain as she coughed.

“I’m here to take care of you. Go to the living room, need to keep our distance.” Y/n said softly as she adjusted her face mask, getting a bottle of spray out.

Emily furrowed her brows but went ahead to the living room, soon enough grabbing a face mask and turning back to look at y/n. “I’m fine, you don’t have to stay here.”

“Oh, but I do. We’re close to get the vaccine, I cannot have you stopping at the hospital just because you were too stubborn to accept that you’re really sick.” Y/n sprayed the whole area where Emily had just been, and then turned to look at her with a raised brow. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. You stay in your room, I’ll sleep on the couch, you can only use your room and bathroom. I’ll be bringing you food and medication, already talked to a doctor. If we don’t see any progress, we’ll have to go to the hospital, which I hope, you’ll cooperate, Prentiss.”

Emily just stared at her, a bit surprised on how y/n had become so bossy, but she also couldn’t blame her, knowing perfectly well that she’d probably die on her own. “Got it. I will.”

Y/n nodded. “Good, now I’ll go disinfect your room first. You stay here while I do that, no touching anything anymore. Though, I will clean here too.”

Emily couldn’t help the small smile that spread through her face as she nodded, thankful that the face mask was covering it. “Got it boss.”

Y/n grinned softly as she nodded. “Good, I’ll be right back. Bed stuff?”

“Closet, second drawer, and the blankets are on top.”

Emily would be lying if she said she wasn’t happy to have y/n here. Ever since y/n joined the team, somehow, they had become inseparable, even if she tried to get her to work with the whole team, before she even thought about it, she was already saying that y/n would go with her, and of course, that didn’t go unnoticed by Tara, JJ and Penelope, but they never mentioned anything, even more when Emily ended up with a boyfriend. That of course till this day, Emily thought so much about how she had forced herself to actually like someone just so she wouldn’t feel so alone. But the one person she had actually wanted…had been y/n. And now having her here, willing to take care of her even if she knew there was a risk that she could get sick, it was everything for Emily.

Emily slowly opened her eyes as she heard her door opening. She looked up and smiled softly as she noticed y/n walking in with a tray of food. “Hey. Did I sleep a lot?”

Y/n looked at Emily and smiled, carefully putting the tray of food on the nightstand. “For like an hour and a half. It’s good that you’re sleeping.” She grabbed the thermometer and placed it on Emily’s forehead. She sighed relieved and offered a small smile. “It’s coming down, finally.”

Emily smiled. “And the headache is not as bad.”

“No, Prentiss. I will not leave, it’s good you’re getting better but no way I’m leaving in the next few days.” Y/n raised her brow as she placed back the thermometer in its place.

“I was not going to say anything about that.” Emily chuckled softly. “Just…thank you.” She smiled softly as she sat on her bed.

Y/n nodded softly. “You welcome.” She smiled as she looked at Emily. “So…I ordered some groceries for tomorrow, we’ll have our own Christmas celebration.”

Emily’s heart stopped for a moment, her eyes widening. “Oh my…tomorrow is Christmas! Y/n, you shouldn’t be here. I’m sure you have-“

“Ah, stop.” Y/n grinned softly. “I have nothing to do, and I wouldn’t want to spend my Christmas any differently. What better way to celebrate it than with a sick Emily Prentiss? Such a great gift.” She chuckled softly as she grabbed the tray and placed it on Emily’s legs.

Emily’s heart swelled as she stared at y/n, a small smile on her face. “If you say so.”

“I do say so.” Y/n smiled softly. “Eat that, I’ll bring your medication.”

Emily watched her leave and her smile widened even more. All these years, she had been taking care of herself, not letting anyone in because she knew how that’d end up. She had never liked to be taken care of, but she loved to make sure that her loved ones were always good taken care of. So now, y/n doing all of this…it made her realize that maybe, just maybe…she did feel the same way.

********************

Emily groaned softly as she stretched, slowly opening her eyes to the sound of a groan and then a small whisper. As she looked up, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes, she furrowed her brows as she noticed y/n moving a small table and placing it in the middle of the door. She tilted her head in curiosity as a small, silly smile spread across her face. “What are you doing?”

Y/n looked up at Emily and smiled, her cheeks turning slightly red. “Oh uh…moving a table?”

“And…leaving it right in the middle of the door?” Emily raised her brow.

“Okay don’t laugh but…I thought this could be a way for us to have Christmas lunch together.”

Emily’s face softened as she stared at her, her cheeks turning red and not for the fever. She grinned softly. “Charming.”

“I tend to be.” Y/n grinned softly. “Grab your chair and I’ll bring the food.”

Emily smiled softly and did just as she was told, grabbing the chair that was just might the closet and sitting down in front of the table. She smiled softly as y/n came back with a chair for herself and started brought Emily her plate already with food and her drink. They ate together and right after they talked about everything but work, laughing as they told old stories about themselves and even some stories with the team. Y/n was fascinated just listening to Emily talk, loving that she had chosen the idea of spending Christmas with her, and that Emily had allowed her to take care of her. As for Emily, even if she was tired, she was enjoying every moment she was spending with y/n. As she watched her talk, she kept wondering in her mind if she was right or she was wrong about her suspicions, smiling softly without even noticing.

Y/n furrowed her brows and tilted her head as she stared at Emily. “What?” She hugged a chuckle.

“What?” Emily snapped out of her trance. “Oh! No, nothing. I’m sorry.”

Y/n chuckled. “You should get back to bed and sleep, I’ll clean up and wake you up for your pills.”

“Wait!” Emily coughed, grabbing her glass of water, and taking a deep breath afterwards. “I uh…have a question.”

“Yes?”

Emily took a deep breath, feeling her body still pretty much aching and getting all warm. “Why are you doing this?”

Y/n furrowed her brows again. “I…because I didn’t want you to be alone, Em.”

“Is that the only reason?” Emily raised her brow, a small smile on her face.

Y/n tilted her head as she smiled shyly, looking down at her glass. “Well…I don’t wanna get fired after what I have to say.”

“Which is?”

“You’re a profiler, Em. Isn’t it obvious?” Y/n blushed slightly as she looked back at her. “I…care a lot about you. Which means…that I like you…a lot.” She whispered softly as she nibbled on her lip.

Emily smiled softly as she nodded, tilting her head. “And you’re also a profiler, y/n. Isn’t it obvious?”

Y/n’s eyes widened slightly as she stared at Emily. “Wait…are you serious?”

“If I wasn’t sick and this table wasn’t in the middle of us, I’d be kissing you right now.” Emily smirked softly.

Y/n’s lips parted slightly as she stared at Emily, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Is the fever making you talk?”

Emily laughed softly, coughing afterwards, and placing her hand on her chest. “No, no…I’m…I’m serious.” She smiled.

“We’re gonna check back once you’re not sick.” Y/n grinned. “But for now…this could be considered our first date.”

“And I’d like to take you in a second date…next year.” Emily joking as she grinned.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re so funny, Prentiss. But I accept.” She smiled softly.

Emily laughed softly as she nodded, feeling her heart beating faster as y/n kept staring at her with that beautiful smile on her face. After all, there was something good out of this pandemic.

********************

It wasn’t new that y/n saw Emily drowning in work, not after all the changed that the BAU had over the years. Having JJ back had at least eased things, but Rossi losing his wife, not having Penelope around, a whole new case that fell into their lap, Bailey not helping at all, Emily was losing her mind. But once she had most of her team back, including Penelope, things didn’t seem to be so bad…until they were, again. Y/n always had her eyes on Emily, the entire time, they both had promised that their relationship wouldn’t interfere with work, it wouldn’t change the way they worked, and it also wouldn’t stop them, meaning that things would stay just like they were before. Of course, the team was now aware of their relationship, and they were happy that at least, there was something to look forward to -Penelope joking that she was already planning the wedding…they believed she was joking-.

But once the whole ‘Gold Star’ started, y/n noticed how Emily just kept getting home late, trying to drown herself in work and compensate for what had happened. She had tried her best to be there for her and let Emily know that it had not been her fault, and that she had done what she and the team had thought was right. Emily tried to hide everything that she was feeling to not let y/n and the team figure out that she was having a hard time, but y/n knew better, she could now see through Emily, but she also knew not to push her. Even if it killed her to know that Emily was having a hard time.

“Hey, so where’s Emily? Thought she’d be here.” JJ snapped y/n out of her trance, making her look up at her while JJ offered a small smile.

“Oh…she had uh…she had something to do.” Y/n tried her best to smile but they knew better.

“Work, huh? She feels…guilty about Bailey?” Tara asked as she turned to look at y/n.

Y/n sighed softly as she nodded. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We know Emily. There’s not much we can do if she doesn’t want to talk.” Tara said softly as she placed her hand on y/n’s shoulder.

“But I’m her girlfriend. I mean…I should at least…I don’t know. Try harder?” Y/n shrugged. “I just want Emily to know that I’m here…”

JJ sighed softly. “Well, I’m sure she knows, she’s just…trying to deal with her stuff.”

Y/n nodded softly as she looked back at JJ, smiling softly. She felt her phone vibrating and got it out of her pocket, furrowing her brows as she saw Emily’s text. Soon enough she was saying goodbye to everyone and then heading back to the office. It felt a little weird to be here so late, the whole office was silent and almost dark, Emily’s office was the only one that had its light on. Y/n took a deep breath as she noticed Emily walking around her office and then stopping by the window. She wanted to support her in every possible way, but she was also afraid that Emily was overworking herself and that didn’t sit right with her. She slowly walked to Emily’s office and leaned against the doorframe, trying her best to smile as Emily turned to look at her.

“Hey you.” Y/n smiled softly.

Emily offered a smile in return. “I’m sorry I made you leave Penelope’s birthday.”

“I was going to anyway.” Y/n shrugged. “What’s going on?”

Emily sighed softly. “We need to talk.”

Y/n felt her heart drop for a moment as she stared at Emily. She could only nod, not trusting her voice as she felt her body slightly trembling as she waited for Emily to say anything at all, but instead, she walked to y/n, grabbed her hand, and kissed it softly, offering a smile as she pulled y/n with her. Soon enough, they were on the ceiling, Emily had sat down and had pulled out a box of cigarettes, catching y/n off guard for a moment, but also keeping in mind how incredibly hot it was to see her smoke. Seriously, y/n…not the time. She crossed her arms and listened to everything Emily had to say, and again, she felt helpless as she listened to Emily, wanting nothing more than to be able to fix all this with a snap of her finger and be able to take Emily anywhere so she could relax.

“Well, you’ve been doing your homework.” Y/n teased as she walked closer to Emily and grabbed the cigarette putting it in her mouth before she returned it to Emily.

Emily scoffed. “Well…we need to get to the end of this.”

Y/n nodded, sighing softly, and looked away for a moment. “So…you think he’s government trained or something?”

“He’s definitely too proficient to be self-taught.”

“And that’s why they’re keeping it a secret.” Y/n tilted her head as she looked back at Emily. “I know that you’ve been overprotective after what happened…but we need to let the team know about this. You know that working together, we’ll get it done.”

Emily sighed softly as she nodded. “I know.” She nibbled on her lip for a moment as she looked at y/n. “Baby…I need you to promise me that whatever we do here, I need you to be safe. We see what he does…what has happened so far. I cannot…” her voice cracked for a moment, looking down at the floor as she put back the cigarette in her mouth.

Y/n sighed softly as she walked to Emily, positioning herself in between her legs and placing her hands on her cheeks, tilting her head up so their eyes locked. “I will promise you that if you promise me the same.” She smiled softly. “Em, I need you to take a break too. You’ve barely been home, you’ve barely been sleeping. I will make the promise if you promise me you’ll also take care of yourself.”

Emily took a deep breath, moving her free hand to y/n’s hips, offering a small smile. “Alright. I will.”

Y/n smiled softly as she leaned down to kiss Emily’s forehead. “You’re stubborn, Prentiss. If I don’t take care of you, you won’t.”

“That’s why I have you. Couldn’t have it any other way.” Emily chuckled softly, leaning up slightly to kiss her lips while she put out the cigarette.

Y/n smiled against her lips. “I know I should be forbidding you from smoking but…did you know you look extremely hot smoking?”

Emily chuckled softly as she wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “No but thank you.” She grinned.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and then leaned down to kiss her lips again. “Let’s go call Garcia.”

********************

Y/n could only stare at Emily while everyone else talking, giving their thoughts about the video they had just watched. she couldn’t really concentrate on what they were even talking about, part of her was trying to comprehend everything, work with them, say anything at all, but her mind was entirely focused on Emily. The moment Rossi and Emily had walked into the office, she could tell that there was something wrong with Emily; the way she stared at them, the way she talked, her eyes seemed…lost. She tried to keep up with everything, every now and then feeling JJ’s eyes on her, even Tara’s, but her eyes were only focused on Emily.

“Em?” Y/n asked softly as they all left the room, walking to Emily and taking her hand. “Are you alright?”

Emily looked back at her and furrowed her brows. “Yes. Why are you asking?”

Y/n tilted her head slightly as she raised her brow. “That was not nothing. What you and Rossi saw…and you…you don’t look okay.”

Emily shrugged. “It’s part of the job, isn’t it?”

Y/n sighed softly. “Emily, I-“

“Right now, we need to focus on this case. We might have something important here. I know I promised, but we also promised we wouldn’t change the way we work here. Right now, we’re at work, and we need to focus on that.” Emily said softly but firmly, not wanting to sound rude or harsh, but the way she looked at y/n, with stress and frustration, made y/n’s insides turn.

Y/n nodded softly as she let go of Emily’s hand. “Right.”

Emily only nodded before she left, leaving y/n standing there, not knowing what to do or say. She knew working together wouldn’t be the easiest thing ever, but she couldn’t help it, and Emily couldn’t blame her for worrying. Y/n had stayed behind with JJ at the office, she had tried to brush it off and focus on their main task. But again, once they came back, y/n noticed it again, she noticed the way Emily rubbed her temple and went straight to her office. She didn’t say anything, she stayed with JJ as she let Emily have a minute. She was right, they had made it clear things wouldn’t change, and so far, it had worked out, and she was not about to stress Emily more.

********************

Y/n closed the door behind her and sighed softly as she locked it, standing there staring at it as she took a deep breath before she turned to walk to their room. Emily was already sitting on the bed, taking off her shoes. Y/n said nothing, walking to the bed and also sitting down and doing the same as Emily. Silence surrounded them for a moment for a while, y/n knew it was stupid that Emily’s words had hit her the way they did, but she couldn’t help it, she knew that if it was the other way around, Emily wouldn’t drop it until y/n accepted that Emily was right, but in this case, which was not even an option.

But then she heard a soft groan coming from Emily, and as she turned, she noticed Emily’s head in her hands, and y/n was back to feeling worried. She stood up slowly and walked around the bed, kneeling right in front of Emily, and positioning herself in between her legs, her hands on top of Emily’s as she leaned her head against Emily’s.

“Em…” Y/n whispered softly.

“I’m exhausted.” Emily breathed out, her voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what’s going on, nothing seems right, everything seems to be against us, to be against me. It’s like they want me to resign so badly, they want…they want the BAU to disappear. I don’t know what they want from me, I cannot just drop this, not after everything we’ve been through.” She said quietly as she felt her eyes getting teary, not being able to look up at y/n. “They’re making us get involved with a fucking serial killer. What has gotten into their minds?! What are they hiding?!”

Y/n wrapped her arms around her, only being able to hold Emily tightly as she started sobbing. Emily knew that she was overworking herself, that she was doing too much, she was obsessing too much, but there was no chance to back down, she couldn’t just let it happen, she couldn’t let them win. But she felt so…heavy. Everything hurt, her head felt like exploding, her chest felt heavy, she had felt the usual anxiety creep in her body, she felt worse than she had years ago. She sobbed quietly as she felt y/n tightening her embrace, Emily suddenly wrapping her arms around y/n’s neck, feeling bad for the weird position they were in, but needing y/n to hold her so badly, she’d worry about the position later.

“I can’t just drop this.” Emily whispered as she buried her face on y/n’s neck, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I know. And we won’t drop it. I’ll be by your side.” Y/n whispered softly.

“I’m sorry I’m so stubborn…”

Y/n shook her head, smiling softly as she turned to kiss the side of her head. “But you’re mine. You can be as stubborn as you want.”

Emily chuckled softly as she pulled away, looking into y/n’s eyes. “I’m sorry that I’ve been drowning myself in this case.”

Y/n sighed softly. “I don’t blame you, Emily.” She rubbed Emily’s back softly as she leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I just don’t want you falling sick for so much stress. I don’t want you to get stuck in this to the point where you can’t notice that you’re putting everything and you’re putting yourself in danger.” She said softly as she looked into Emily’s eyes. “I’m just worried about you.”

Emily nodded as she let out a shaky breath. “I know. I won’t keep anything else from you, I promise. And…I’ll come to you when it’s too much.”

Y/n nodded as she smiled. “Em…baby, look at me.” She ran her fingers through her hair as Emily locked her eyes on hers. “I’m here for you, no matter what. The good and the bad, you’re not a burden to me, okay? I love you. And you’re not alone.”

Emily’s eyes filled with tears as her face softened, her body slightly trembling as she finally gave up and let tiredness take over her. She took a deep shaky breath, nodding her head as more tears rolled down her cheeks. Y/n rapidly wrapped her into another tight hug, letting Emily bury her face on her neck and sob as much as she needed. They stayed like that for a while, y/n rubbing her back and whispering sweet nothings while Emily cried. It was becoming too much, and Emily knew this wasn’t even the half of it and there was so much more to come, but for now, for now she had y/n, she was present in this moment. Y/n gave her the space to break and make her feel like she deserved to have this sort of moment even if they still made her feel weak, but she knew her lover would never judge her, not like she had been judged before. After a moment, she finally felt like she had gotten everything out, slowly moving back but resting her forehead against y/n’s, not wanting to be away.

“Thank you…” Emily whispered softly.

“Why are you thanking me?”

“Because you always take care of me even if you don’t have to.” Emily smiled through her tears.

Y/n smiled softly pulling away just enough to wipe her tears and stroke her cheek. “And I’ll be here to do it over and over again. If I risked my life with COVID, why not now?” She grinned a little.

Emily rolled her eyes playfully. “Well, it kept you in my apartment for a whole month. Not my fault you were so eager to kiss me.” She teased back.

Y/n gasped softly. “In my defense, you were supposed to be out of risk, and also, I couldn’t help it when I had you right in front of me. We had become girlfriends, and I hadn’t even kissed you yet.”

“That’s true.” Emily chuckled softly as she leaned in and kissed her forehead. “And I got to take care of you.”

Y/n nodded. “We’ve got each other’s back. You take care of me, and I take care of you.” She smiled softly.

Emily smiled and nodded softly. “Yes.” She rested her forehead against y/n’s once again. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Y/n smiled softly and sighed softly as she closed her eyes for a moment. After a while, she moved to kiss Emily’s nose and offer another smile. “C’mon, let’s take a bath together. I’ll bring some wine and snacks.”

Emily smiled softly and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Y/n nodded before she got up, but as she was about to leave, Emily pulled her back to her, making her turn back to Emily who was now standing. “Yes?”

Emily smiled softly as she shook her head. “Nothing.” She placed her hand on y/n’s neck and brought their lips together into a tender kiss. “I love you.” She whispered softly against her lips.

Y/n giggled. “I love you too.” She whispered back and kissed her lips one more time before she walked out of the room.

Emily knew there was still a very long way, she had no idea what they were getting into, a lot of stress was coming their way, but she knew that as soon as she walked into their house, she’d be able to leave that stress behind at least for a while. This little bubble they had created for themselves was everything to Emily, and what got her to keep going. And that was all she needed.

[jar-of-something-else]

sleeping w/ the mercs [IT IS LIKE THAT]

these are so badddddd bro literally ignore this i just need practice and the mercs are my victims pinky promise i'll get better

yeah the title is the exact same as the tf2 headcanons from my main SO WHAT

if ur under 18 please don't interact 👍🏻

afab reader i’m sorry guys :( gender is totally neutral though

obviously this is under a cut

warnings/includes: MENTIONS OF SYRINGES/NEEDLES, SCALPELS, AND MEDICAL STUFF IN MEDIC'S SECTION!!!!!! AND KNIVES AND BLOOD IN SNIPER'S!!!! these are so bad, pyro is insane, medic is also insane, sniper is depraved, actually everybody's depraved, i'm depraved and also so so sorry

mostly what they're into/how they behave, nothing super reader specific in these ones

Scout:

-he’s got enough experience but he isn’t as good as he says he is, he’s got the spirit though and that’s what matters

-really good with his fingers but he can't find the clit half the time so help him out a bit

-absolutely an ass man but isn’t into anal

-scout usually likes positions where he can easily see/touch your ass (doggy, reverse cowgirl, etc)

-definitely says cringe shit in the bedroom, 100% refers to himself as daddy (which is canon i think?? i remember him having a voice line where he does that, could be wrong tho)

-has tried (and failed) to call you kitten on the regular but reverted back to the usual (still cringy) nicknames he calls you after demo made fun of him

-he never shuts up so the dirty talk is CRAZYYYY

-calls you stuff like doll, baby, babe, and uses pretty girl/boy/baby and babygirl/boy/doll when he's close

-even though he’s a little clumsy with it, he really does like giving oral, just give him a little direction; BUT likes receiving oral even more, sorry abt ur knees babe 💔

-definitely into semi-public sex, he won’t do anything in front of people but you bet your ass he’s finding some alleyway or storage closet to get freaky in

-does get jealous pretty easy and even though he’s usually not too rough with you he is not above manhandling when he sees fit

-the dog tags stay on, do with that what you will

Soldier:

-good GAWD

-literally so mean but mean in a hot way so that makes it okay

-absolutely nickname crazy; most of them aren't very cute or sexy (i.e. cadet, maggot, etc) but cupcake always makes an appearance

-very much into verbal degradation because of course he is, is also very into manhandling and just kinda tossing you around but he doesn't wanna hurt you too bad

-rarely ever fucks on an actual bed, usually it's the nearest wall/table/chair/couch, any surface you could lay/sit on really

-no the helmet is not coming off but that adds to it

-the honey IS going on though, maybe not his full body but it will make an appearance (he’s def into foodplay)

-tiny bit of a size kink, i think soldier is one of the taller, bulkier mercs so there's a very good chance he's much bigger than you in one way or another

-would absolutely be interested in a threesome with demo let's get real here

-very attracted to body hair bc i say so

-likes positions where he's very obviously the one in control/with the power; very into restraint either with some device (handcuffs, rope, etc) or with his own hands

-VERY loud, so good luck with that lmao

Pyro:

-man,,,,

-obviously into temperature and wax play

-the mask and suit do not come off, but pyro has a plethora of toys to use on you instead 😊

-gets off on the idea that he's some faceless person you can't really understand that has complete control over you and your body

-does occasionally lift the mask up just above his nostrils to kiss you, though, scarred lips be damned

-does babble a lot, even though it's all muffled; the nicknames he uses are surprisingly cute, he'll call you stuff like sugarplum, marshmallow, firefly, sugar cube, and other sickly-sweet names

-doesn't like showing you his bare skin/body because of their burn scars, but pyro does enjoy grinding if you wanna help him out that bad

-derives most of his pleasure from making you feel good, though, so he isn't really looking for any type of physical release on his end

-pyro's are kinda short i just can't think of any more rn i apologize 💔

Demo:

-WHAT A MAN 😍😍😍

-#1 lover out of all the mercs get fucked spy

-i think his build is very similar to soldiers, maybe an inch or two taller, so he definitely has the same lowkey size kink

-is also open to a threesome with soldier

-absolutely a service dom but he teases so much

-FAKE SYMPATHY!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!!!!

-likes when you call him by his name more than any of the cheesy titles dudes usually want their significant other to call them but he is always referring to you by any nickname he can think of; the most popular ones are lamb, sweetheart, lass/lad, my girl/boy/baby and "poor, sweet thing"

-loves talking to you and making you talk back to him even when you're literally on a different planet; makes you tell him what you want him to do even though he knows exactly what you're gonna say

-also slightly into dumbification (not to the extent medic or engineer are, though, he just thinks it's hot)

-very much into face and thigh riding

-foreplay alone could last as long as an hour if he's feeling "mean" at that particular time

-THIGH MAN!!!!!! LET'S GO!!!!!!!!!!

-makes you hold eye contact with him, sometimes the eyepatch comes off 🥴

-likes giving a whole lot more than receiving but he isn't about to turn down a blowjob if you offer

-waking you up with oral, it's his version of breakfast in bed

Heavy:

-and you thought demo was a service dom 🙄

-literally will do whatever you ask him to he does not care, as long as you feel good he's content

-very obvious size kink and it's very easy to exploit, but heavy doesn't take too kindly to teasing (he isn't about to stop you, though)

-speaks mostly in russian so unless you're fluent you can't really understand him but you get the gist of what he's saying by the tone in his voice

-outside of whatever russian bullshit he's spouting out, he calls you his "leetle bunny"

-tries to be gentle with you because of how big he is, but if he's provoked he can and will get wild

-as stated above, he can and will get wild, which includes his dirty talk; russian praise will turn into demeaning english muttered in your ear

-BREEDING KINK !!!!!!!!!!

-doesn't tease you on purpose, but he goes slow enough to where you think he's fucking with you (no pun intended)

-begging is never necessary but it is a guilty pleasure of his

-doesn't ask to receive oral often but watching you struggle with it does kinda turn him on even more

-face sitting extraordinaire, yes he does make the stupid eating sounds like in the game and yes he does it on purpose to try to make you laugh

-LET HEAVY FUCK NASTY GOD DAMN IT!!!

Engineer:

-WHAT A MIGHTY GOOD MAN 😍😍😍

-much stronger than you'd think he is and he does use that to his advantage

-slight temperature play when the gunslinger is involved, it's just a little colder than room temperature but it's a very stark contrast

-loves conflicting his speech with his actions; he'll sweet talk and praise you while he's railing you into next week

-speaking of, he'll call you anything but your name. honeybee, honey, darlin', sweet girl/boy/baby, baby girl/boy/doll, any nickname that sounds hot in a southern accent he's callin you

-he absolutely has a daddy kink but won't tell you unless you have one too and approach him first, chances are you're younger than he is and he doesn't wanna make you think he's a weirdo

-all in all, the dirty talk is INSANEEEEEEEE

-absolutely into dumbification, he knows he's smart and he gets off on the power imbalance when you're babbling about nothing and he's still perfectly present

-also slightly into dacryphilia? it's not attractive when you're crying from pain, sadness, frustration, etc but he likes making you feel so good you're overwhelmed and all you can do is cry for him

-might forget to take the helmet and goggles off, but if you want him to keep them on then by all means he will

-would absolutely abide by the cowboy hat rule (if you don't know what that is, basically if a cowboy puts his hat on your head y'all are fuckin' later on)

-very much into bigger people, the extra chub around the thighs, chest, cheek, and stomach areas are a weakness of his

MEDIC!

-the moment we've all been waiting for

-kinda like soldier in the fact that he's mean in a hot way, but it's less bully-mean and more absolutely deranged mean

-of course he's into degradation and medical play, definitely dacryphilia and dumbification (for similar reasons engineer is), another merc with a slight size kink cause medic is big as hell

-likes to get you on the operation table and trace a syringe or scalpel (or both if he's feeling patient [haha get it]) along your body purely for the fear it evokes from you

-wants to get you scared/vulnerable and that's how he starts his foreplay; totally into the whole predator/prey thing but not in the same way sniper is, medic is more into metaphorical or psychological hunting rather than the actual thing

-FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!

-teases, edges, and overstimulates you to the point of tears and gets this stupid smug look on his face while cooing at you

-calls you demeaning names, like pet, but he's got some cute ones he uses too; täubchen, maus, schatz, and liebling (dove, mouse, sweetheart, and darling) are very prevalent in and outside of the bedroom

-if you're okay with it, medic does like to use you as a bit of stress relief when everybody else is getting on his nerves

-is 100% down for a doctor/nurse or doctor/patient roleplay let's get real here

-also into semi-public sex, sometimes he'll leave the medbay door unlocked and slightly ajar purpose just to mess with you

-though he is very rough with you most of the time, he likes to save his more tender moments for when the two of you are in an actual bedroom and not his workspace

Sniper:

-wild. like genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself when he's horny he just goes fucking crazy.

-even though he gets crazy insane, he doesn’t really know what all to do and it frustrates him; he doesn't have much experience when it comes to sexual acts with another person involved so please give him some pointers

-absolutely into knife play come on

-if you have a period, he'd also be down for period sex he does not care about blood in the slightest

-isn't all that nickname-heavy like some of the other mercs here, but he does sprinkle them into his dirty talk. it's usually the same things he calls you outside of the bedroom, like 'roo, darl', and love

-into body worship, giving or receiving. he likes making you feel beautiful and he likes feeling good about himself too

-would definitely want you to suck him off while he does target practice and i know this is such a popular headcanon but come on guys

-another popular headcanon is sniper being into predator/prey dynamics which like,,,come on. it's literally perfect. you're telling me this nutcase dude wouldn't be into scaring the shit out of you by physically hunting you down. it's basically canon idc

-likes biting and leaving marks on your neck/shoulders in very visible areas because he's kind of a possessive guy ngl

-as much as he likes people seeing the aftermath of what he does to you, sniper is a very private person so he really wouldn't be all that into sneaky sex. the closest you'll get is his sniper nest while he does target practice on cease-fire days

Spy:

-despite being an asshole on the regular, he's a very attentive lover

-into body worship but only giving, he already knows he's fine and he wants to make sure you're never insecure about yourself

-bilingual babe 😍 speaks in french so much you can't really understand what he's talking about but he's more than happy to give you a translation

-also has a daddy kink let's get real here

-KNIFE PLAY!!!!!!!!!!

-heavily into power play as well, similar to pyro because he'll keep his clothes (including the mask and gloves) on while you're completely bare to him

-likes buying you lingerie

-likes getting and giving head the same amount, he has no real preference cause it's gonna end in sex every time anyway 🤷‍♀️

-french nicknames ONLY!!!! mon cher (my dear), ma chérie/mon chéri (my darling), amour/mon amour (love/my love), gentille fille/garçon/bébé (sweet girl/boy/baby), mon ange (my angel) [currently using my basic understanding of the french language for evil]

-semi-public and public sex spy does not give a fuck he has a cloaking device for a reason 🙄🙄

-if you don't already have one he will give you an accent kink

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Does the End Justify the Means?

CX-2 (Clone Assassin) x Reader

Summary- CX-2 never planned on forming a relationship, but once he did he had to protect it. Even if it meant killing hundreds to keep you away from Hemlock.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR THE BAD BATCH FINALE. I feel like people forget that deep down, CX-2 is still a clone being forced to serve the Empire. Maybe I'm delusional though!!! MENTIONS OF BURNS AND TORTURE!!

Word Count- 5,253

"You know, CX-2. There was once a time where I considered scrapping you. The very cloning program that made you..." Hemlock started. "You were hard to control. My methods had little effect on you. Considering you had little to live for, well that didn't help."

CX-2 stood, arms crossed behind his back. He listened intently, staring at the grey border of the wall.

"You were too, hmm. Rebellious should I say?" He walked slow circles around CX-2, studying him. "That was until I found your little secret out." Hemlock laughed at his own wit. "Who knew a medic trainee would have an Assassin Clone falling so hard!" He seemed to think the situation was hilarious.

Silent, CX-2 contemplated killing Hemlock where he stood. It wasn't possible though, he was smarter than that. He probably had a weapon on his beloved as they spoke. Perhaps Scorch was with her now...

He didn't want to think about it, so he didn't. Opting to stare back at the wall again.

"Truly, I created you better than that. The problem with you clones is your loyalty. It would typically disgust me. Though, unlucky for you, this all plays out in my favor." CX-2 swallowed hard at his words.

There were not many things that scared CX-2, but the thought of Hemlock hurting you consumed him. Striking him with a never ending fear.

"You will bring me Omega. Unless, you want an accident to happen. That would be tragic, wouldn't it?" The man asked, taunting the clone. All while fiddling with his gloved hand.

For the first time in many minutes, CX-2 spoke. "I will retrieve the girl."

"Good, I do not doubt your abilities." Hemlock stepped closer, right in The Assassins face. "Dire consequences are at stake..."

CX-2 made sure his next stop was Pabu.

CX-2 had no intentions of forming any friendships, especially not a relationship. You, however, came natural to him. In one of Hemlock's attempts to have complete control over CX-2, a burn was implemented on his waist. He remembers the day vividly, as it was the first time he'd met you.

You were only on Tantiss because of your mother. She worked for the Empire as a medic, a famous doctor of some sort. While you never had the knack for the medical field, you enjoyed helping people. It was in your blood after all.

CX-2 was taken to a special room for clones of high status. You were there by sheer accident. A mishap guided you to his side.

"Uhm, hello sir." You introduced yourself. "I'll be your medic today. What's your name?" You asked, a little nervous to be assessing a clone by yourself. He wore black armor, head still covered. You'd never seen that style before, maybe he was new?

CX-2 just stared up at you, a hard gaze. Out of fear, you started to breathe a little heavier. He could have killed you there and no one would have batted an eye.

"Sir, is something the matter?" You pressed on, trying to mask yourself with professionalism.

He continued to stare, eventually pointing at the chart In your hands.

"Of course, uh. CT-4340?"

CX-2 didn't say a word, just tilted his head. You looked at him with doe eyes. "Are you CT-4340?" you hesitated.

"My code is CX-2." He commanded out, a modulated voice appearing.

You almost jumped at the sound. "I uh, seem to have the wrong chart. I am so sorry, I should get a higher official-"

Under his helmet, CX-2 resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His shoulder dropped, annoyed. This caused his side to jolt. The pain of the burn on him was strong, but he withheld any reaction.

You, on the other hand, seemed to notice the very small twitch his waist gave out. "Where are you hurt?" You asked, the words now flowing with a motive in mind.

CX-2 instinctively started unbuckling his chest piece. You flushed slightly, ashamed you couldn't be more serious in the situation. "Do you need help?" His head rose quickly, falling after looking at you for a second. He didn't respond, just continued to take his upper armor off.

Guess not...

The second you saw his skin, you suppressed a gasp. It looked gruesome, like something had repeatedly been burning him. With a deep breath, you shoved down any lasting fear.

Getting to work, you prepared bacta and bandages.

He was still, almost too still. You'd seen plenty of procedures and medics fixing up clones. There had been wincing, complaining, and fidgeting on lesser injuries. You would have expected tears and need of an anesthetic for any other man. But he was still...

You prayed you didn't hurt him more than he already was. You knew your hands were clumsy with inexperience. If you did, he made no effort to tell you nor pull away.

From then on you saw each other more and more. While your mother made sure you got plenty of experience working on clones, you were extremely busy. Never getting a second to actually talk to CX-2. A particular encounter with a clone in the hangar would change this.

You were helping a trooper with a broken arm- Simply wrapping it to prevent further injury. You crouched down, examining the break.

CX-2 was just passing by, heading to see what his next mission was. He barely took note that a soldier under his command broke an arm. Why would he? Clones die everyday, including ones under CX-2.

He did however take note of you. He recognized you immediately. He surprised himself, why would he care about some medic? He'd never remembered the ones that had worked on him in the past.

At this, he stared at you. He took in your silhouette, something deep down told him to bask in your every feature. So, he did.

Of course you felt the beaming eyes of CX-2. It made you nervous. Was there something on your face? Did you make him mad? It distracted you.

"Ow!" The clone exclaimed in pain, face screwing. He yanked his arm up. It was an accident, you were sure. A response to the pain you caused unintentionally. CX-2 didn't seem to think this when he saw the clone raise his arm to hit you.

It all happened so fast, you didn't have time to lean back or even register what was happening. The next thing you knew was that the unidentified clone was on his back. CX-2 stood over him, a vibroblade at his neck and foot on his chest.

Falling onto your butt, you gasped and regained some sense. "CX-2...."

He slowly turned around to face you. The two of you looked at each other. His hand still expertly rested centimeters from killing the clone.

Adrenaline pumping, you spoke. "it's okay. It was an accident."

He pushed the clone back with his foot, hand raising. With the vibroblade still wielded, he stormed to you. Your heart pumped viciously, though not in fear. If he was going to really hurt you, he would have let the clone hit you.

No, your heart thumped in your ears in anticipation.

He grabbed you by the forearm with his free hand, careful of the blade. He yanked you up, off of your position on the cold floor.

You briefly noticed eyes around the hangar now in your direction. You grew nervous, only at their judgmental looks.

The quickness of it all made your head spin. You stepped out, trying not to fall. His hand still gripped your arm, he stood unmoving. He let you catch your balance, just watching you.

"Excuse me, what is going on here?" A vice admiral questioned, appearing from your left.

CX-2's modulated voice said your name. It was harsh and cold, but you somehow knew it wasn't directed at you. "She is my medic."

"And? What gives you the right to attack a clone for no reason?" The admiral demanded.

CX-2 didn't like being questioned. Before you could get a single word in, CX-2 pulled you with him as he turned to leave the hangar.

"Wha-" You decided not to protest, the man was on some kind of mission. One he had made for himself the second he saw a threat to you.

He guided you two through the complex halls and levels of the lab. You were beyond lost, but he seemed to know where he was going. After a few minutes of paced walking, you stopped him.

"CX-2, where are we going? I don't want to risk getting reprimanded by the admiral." You were cautious, the smallest of complaints could get you reassigned. Tantiss was not for the faint of heart.

"You won't." He would make sure of that. He continued to walk, this time a little slower.

Finally, you found some familiarity in the halls. You noticed he was leading you to the very room you met in. The examining room for special operatives.

He pulled you into the room, making sure the door shut behind him.

"Examine me." He demanded.

You were dumbfounded, "Excuse me?"

CX-2 actually rolled his eyes this time, even when you couldn't see them. In response to your confusion, he removed his left arm's armor.

A gash that went from the top of his shoulder to before his elbow was present. "CX-2..." Your sadden voice spoke.

You didn't actually have clearance to be in that room, nor the supplies. But you worked nevertheless.

"Please, sit." You asked. He followed your instructions immediately, sitting up on the exam bed.

Just as the day you met, you retrieved bacta and med patches. You coated the wound in extra bacta, then prepared the gauze wrap.

"So," You held his arm up gently, starting to wrap it. "How did you get this? Was it your latest mission?" Your hands carefully worked, moving under his arm.

"No." Was all you heard.

"Oh, how did it happen?" You asked, trying to make conversation.

His skin twitched as a subconscious response when you smoothed over it.

"Better if you don't know." He kept his eyes on the wall ahead of him. "Sorry I asked..." You really were. He said nothing.

After a few more moments, you made sure the wrap was steady in place. "I think you're done!" You smiled at him. He dropped his arm at his side.

After, he promptly nodded, but gave little indication on what to do next.

You looked around, feeling a little awkward.

"So... What division are you from?" You tried to ease the tension.

"Project Assassin." He said, being short.

"I haven't heard of that, wha-" He inturpted you. "Tell me about you."

You blinked. You'd only seen this man a dozen times, many of those in passing. Even so, a shot of nerves flowed in you each time. There was something special about him. It was like your heart knew something your brain didn't. You weren't a child though, you knew 'love' was something of fairy tales. That there must be a perfectly rational reason you were feeling this way around him.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Though, if that were true, why did you sit up next to him and tell him everything?

From that day on, the only medic he allowed to work on him was you. The number of visits varied, depending on how evil Hemlock was feeling. CX-2 tried to hide the backstories from you as much as possible, sometimes even ignoring your questions.

Though, late at night, when he'd sneak into your room, he'd tell you the truth. At first he would listen. Anything you'd tell him, you had his full attention. Then, right before you fell asleep, he'd whisper his secrets.

He'd whisper them to the only person he ever trusted, you. Then, it was your turn to listen.

You cried for him, the pains he had went through. He was the perfect clone in your eyes. The only problem was how stubborn he was, no matter how hard Hemlock tried- you were still the only one who could persuade him.

Despite his grunts of protest, you'd just hold CX-2 some nights. Using your fingers to rake through his hair, cradling his head. You tried you best to give him the comfort he had never experienced before.

Everything was going so well. You would continue your training, he would continue his missions, and at night, you would talk and he would listen. You would spoil him with affections under the nights bask.

Of course, all good things must come to an end.

The day Hemlock found out about you was the worst day of CX-2's life.

CX-2 was called in for a meeting about his next mission, something he was used to. He only received orders from the highest of officials, so seeing Hemlock or Scorch was common.

"I have... a special mission of some sort. One I cannot risk incompletion of." Hemlock began.

CX-2 stood upright, ready for instructions.

"Now, despite what we have tried to instill into you- I do not want you to listen to any other orders. I think this particular mission requires your mindset." His words didn't effect CX-2, he'd heard worse.

"One of your fellow operative has been captured. Alive. I will not accept him risking our organization."

"My orders?" CX-2 asked.

"Find and neutralize him." CX-2 nodded at his words.

"You have 48 hours to kill him." Hemlock walked up to CX-2, arms folded behind his back. "If you fail, that...medic... you are so fond of? She will reap the consequences of what you sow."

It was impossible to cover up the way CX-2 breath hitched. If he didn't have a helmet on, Hemlock would see his eyebrows scrunch in anger.

"Yes, that's right. I know about her." Hemlock said, his voice mocking. "Oh, don't fret my little assassin. She will remain unharmed, that is... unless you fail your duty..."

"I trust you will locate him and rid the republic of any information?" Hemlock taunted.

"Yes sir."

How? How did Hemlock find out about you? He was so careful... He immediately headed to your quarters. Damned everyone else, he pushed through crowds and odd stares.

He banged on the door, fist closed. If you hadn't opened in the next 10 seconds, he'd shoot the door down.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." You 'tsked.'

"Oh, CX-2." You breathed out once you opened the door. Unsure if he was there for pleasantries or business.

He shoved his way past you, pressing the button to close the door shut.

"Wha-" He stormed around your rooms, it was quick considering there were only two. A bedroom and bathroom.

He held his blaster up as he checked every crevice of the room. His eyes glanced back at you quickly to make sure you were still there and alive.

"CX-2." You raised your voice. His head shot your way. "What's happened? You're scaring me..."

He paced up to you, removing his helmet as he walked. "He knows about us." Was all he managed out, throwing his helmet to the floor in favor of grabbing your cheeks gently.

Your face dropped, heart pounding in your ears. "How? I don't understand!" You started to breathe heavily.

"I just had to make sure you were safe." His gloved hands felt cool on your hot skin.

Your mind wandered, what would they do?

"I have to leave now." He said, dropping his hands. "No, wait. You can't just drop that bomb and leave!" You had so many questions, and you didn't want to be left alone freighted.

"I do not have time, if I don't complete my mission he will kill you." Your blood ran cold. "I am so sorry I brought you into this. I should have never stepped between you and that clone." He readied himself to exit the room, turning and putting his helmet back on.

"CX-2!" His shoulders dropped, he stood silent. You walked around to face him.

He let you reach your hands up and lift his helmet off. "I'm not upset at you. I only want more time..."

"I can't."

"I know." At your last words, you pulled him down by the collar of his blacks. Now level, you kiss him. Scared it would be your last.

The few seconds your lips touched felt like an eternity. All the time you needed with him...

Eventually, he pulled away. "I-"

"I know... please be safe..." You asked only one thing of him.

He nodded, placing his helmet back on snug. He then walked out your door, your thoughts consumed with wishes of his safety.

CX-2 would fulfill his mission, killing the compromised Operative. Though, that was only the first time he'd have to leave your grasp to keep you alive...

CX-2 reminded himself why he was currently headed to Pabu. 'Dire consequences are at stake' echoed in his mind.

He would capture Omega. He had no care for the innocent people he might have to kill. In his eyes, all of his actions were justified in the name of your well-being.

He never told you of his endeavors, now being sent on more gruesome missions than ever. He knew you'd be disappointed in him, but he also knew he had to always protect you. No matter the cost.

While expertly leading a fleet of soldiers, the only thing that let CX-2 think straight was you. He filled his mind with memories of your laughter. Of the times you begged him to choose a real name, even when he protested. When you first touched, when you first kissed.

He worried for you until the second he had Omega tied up on his ship.

Even after, he was anticipating his reunion with you. He had the girl, he had what Hemlock wanted. He could see you again.

And he did... Hemlock was consumed with his experiments and testing on Omega. So much he that didn't bother CX-2 for a few days. Oh, it was bliss.

The time you shared reminded you of before anyone knew you were together. You both still had your duties as clone and medic, but spent any free time with each other.

You laid in your bed, a glance at the clock scolded you for being up so late. You paid little mind to it, just enjoying the feeling of CX-2's arms around you.

With your head now buried in his chest, you let your hands wander. Slipping under the top portion of his blacks. He used to shiver reluctantly when you felt his skin, now it seemed like second nature.

You loved tracing his scars, the texture consuming you. While they were painful memories, they were treated with love and tenderness. He looked at his scars and thought of you, how you took care of him so nicely and delicately. Not Hemlock.

A light flickered from his panel brace. The one that rested on your nightstand. It lit up the room, and CX-2 immediately reached for it. he pulled away from you, but was careful to keep a connection with his leg still feeling you.

"I have to go." He said, standing to put his arm and chest armor back on.

While he was always quick and determined when hearing from Hemlock or Scorch, he was frantic here.

"Did something happen?"

"Nothing, do not stress. I love you." He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, and an affectionate rub of your thigh before putting his helmet on and leaving.

You sighed and leaned back when the door closed again. This was slowly becoming the new normal for you. You still savored every spare second you had together...

Just as you rolled over to fall asleep, the door opened. "Did you forg-" You jumped up, almost hitting your head on the baseboard of the bed. It was Scorch.

"Come with me. Now." He grabbed your arm and pulled you rough out of bed.

"Excu-"

"You are under arrest until further assessment." He forcefully put you in handcuffs.

You tried to resist, but put up no real fight in comparison to the trained clone. He grew tired of you and stunned you with his blaster.

You fell unconscious.

"You activated me?" CX-2 asked over Comms, like he would in any other situation.

"It seems we have another problem with our favorite girl." Hemlock said.

Omega...

"You see, she has managed to escape with the other children. Did I mention she also freed the zillo beast?"

CX-2 listened intently, not moving a muscle.

"You have been the only operative capable of capturing Omega thus far. I will see that you will find her again. Before she finds some way to leave the planet." CX-2 could hear the frustration in Hemlocks voice. It made him flicker a smile.

"Affirmative."

"Oh, and as a little motivater, I think it would serve you well to know your medic is currently held up in a cell." Hemlock went radio silent, leaving CX-2 to head to the exposed section of the base. The hole the Zillo beast left, and the way Force 99 was headed.

Your head throbbed, vision a little blurry. Raising your head from the cold of the floor, you noticed you were in a cell.

The room spun around before you sat up. Your whole body ached. Not to mention the confusion you were feeling.

Looking around, you saw other prisoners lining the walls. You knew exactly where you were. The hall where all the traitors and experimental clones were kept.

Were they going to experiment on you too? Was CX-2 okay? Did something happen to him that made Hemlock finally get you?

The building shook with a loud boom, it did nothing to help your nerves. It sounded like some kind of cannon went off.

"You okay?" A clone asked in the cell across from you.

"I don't know..."

With the effort and passion of a man whose entire reason for living was at risk, CX-2 and the other Clone Assasins were able to capture the rouge clones.

With his blaster barred in his hands, CX-2 guarded the three prisoners. He was occupied with the thought of what The Empire was doing to you.

You must have been so scared in a cell... He knew you didn't like small spaces. With his new fury, he closed his fist, doing yet another round of the platform they were on.

Boredom was unable to strike you, anxieties kept you busy. Your mind ran wild with the possibilities of CX-2. For a moment you questioned if he had just abandoned you as a whole, but quickly shunned yourself for bringing it up.

CX-2 loved you, and wouldn't dare leave you to rot.

"Look!" A clone yelled out, just as you saw a small girl and a storm trooper running by.

What were they doing?

They crept around the corner, swiftly blasting and taking out 2 storm troopers in the process. The girl got to work on the main computer that operated the cells.

"Hey kid, whats going on?" Someone asked.

"We're breaking you out."

Seconds later, your cell door opened. You slowly walked out, unsure what to do. What would CX-2 do in a situation like this? He'd probably tell you to keep your head down and blend in. Stay out of trouble, 'for his sake.'

You did just that, creeping out of the cell and hiding within the groups of clones.

Apparently, the 'storm trooper' was a clone, so was the girl. They were on a mission to free their three brothers, recruiting clones as they did so.

Was this the big mission CX-2 was called to? To capture the people they were here to rescue?

"We've checked all the cells, they aren't here."

You knew where they probably were... The training room. The very room that tortured and left your beloved marked. You didn't dare say a word. As much as you hated Hemlock and his 'methods,' worse things would happen if CX-2 failed his mission...

"Well... they could be in the training room." Damn, another clone had though the same as you.

They decided to head there, a few turning for an easier escape.

What should you do? Warn CX-2? You weren't raised as a soldier, you had no training. No fighting experience. You knew how to save and help, not attack and kill.

A small hand was rested on your arm, the girl from earlier. "Hi, I'm Omega."

You looked down to her. "I know it's kind of scary, but we have to fight for what's right.." If only she knew your true intentions...

"You're right... i'll come with you..." All you wanted was to find CX-2.

So, you did. Following them to the training room, they planned an attack from the lower circle.. You, however, had a new idea. To come in through the main balcony. The one that led directly to Force 99.

You managed to sneak away and climb the steps that brought you to the main doors.

"Hey, you! Are you supposed to be here?" A trooper stopped you.

"Yes sir," You gave him your chain code, "I am a medic. Hemlock has requested my services in the Training room." You lied, faking a confidence you never had.

"I never heard about Hemlock ever needing a medic in the training room..."

"Well if you want to ask him, while the Zillo beast is one the loose, he has new prisoners, and while his top experiment is lost- Be my guest. I just don't think he'd be very happy with you questioning his methods." You crossed your arms behind your back, something you'd seen CX-2 do many times.

"Fine." He moved out of your way, letting you head to your destination.

You walked to the door, ready to put your mother's clearance codes in. With a steam they opened, leaving you to witness a terrible sight.

The 3 captured clones were out, fighting. You got there in time to see the big clone burst out of the glass, tackling a special operative.

With the sound of the door, the man with a bandana looked your way. Along with CX-2, who rose swiftly upon seeing you. You distracted him long enough for the clone without a hand to blast him in his side.

You gasped as you watched CX-2 fall in your direction.

With an electrospear in his hand, the bandana man stepped to him. He only managed to zap him once before you ran in.

"No!" Your scream pierced out, you threw yourself onto CX-2. Using your body to cover his.

You didn't care if you died then and there, at least you'd die in CX-2's arms. You'd at least die together...

"No, don't!" You squeezed your eyes shut, prepared for a shock that never came. You felt a weak hand raise from under you to grip your clothes.

Tears streamed down your face violently. Pattering on CX-2's armor.

"You do realize the crimes he has committed..." The man panted out, he was also wounded.

"Please, it was for me... It was all for me..." You sobbed out. "Hemlock threatened my life..." You buried your head in his neck, holding him tightly.

"Hunter, no. We should kill them both now." The handless man spoke.

The man you assumed to be Hunter didn't have time to respond.

"I swear we wont follow you... Hemlock is probably on his way to his private ship... I swear..." Your words were muffled but they understood well enough.

"We are wasting time, lets go." Hunter commanded, the two of them left.

You gave out a whimper, "CX-2... Please... Stay with me." You pried his helmet off. He was in a rough state.

His eyes struggled to focus on one thing, but he still tried to find your face. "It'll be okay, just let me grab a med pack." You went to pull away, but he gripped you tighter.

"Let me.. hold," He coughed, "You.."

"You are not going to die on me. You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" You tried to joke. He shook his head, 'no.'

"Then let me do my job, and help you." He still held you tightly. "Please... you deserve to live..." He let you go.

It was only half a minute, you grabbed a medics kit that was nearby and began patching him up.

Making quick work of taking his armor and blacks off. It reminded you of the first time you'd done this to him. A very similar wound on his waist.

You forced him a pill, and squeezed out as much bacta as you could from its packet.

"Can you roll over for me, baby?" You asked, helping him get on his side.

He complied as much as he could, and you were able to patch up his other side.

"Okay, this will hold you over. I know the closest procedure room, a droid can give you a proper examination." You helped him stand, an arm under his own to keep his balance.

"You'll be okay, we'll be okay..." You whispered praises and words of affirmation to him. The walk was extremely painful for him, you could tell he was hiding most of it from you.

Lucky for both of you, a droid was able to identify where the blast was and give him a proper cleaning of the wound.

He was still woozy, but forced himself to stand. "We have to go. Tarkin is on his way.." CX-2 strained out. He was stubborn and refused any medication that would cloud his mind.

"W-where? Your ship?" You were scared, not just for CX-2, but your futures as well.

He pressed a few buttons on his panel brace as you picked up his helmet.

"Turn left." He instructed you all the way to his ship, even with the pain starting to blur his vision.

The two of you somehow managed to make it to his ship, you opened the door with his panel brace and sat him in the co-pilot's seat.

You clicked away, starting the ship up. Though, you did need some guidance from him.

You had never flown a ship before, but knew you had to take the risk to save CX-2. It was wobbly, but you raised the ship and let Auto-Pilot blast you into hyperspace. It had a set of coordinates in, ones you didn't know the location of.

A groan made you turn to your lovers direction, you were at his side immediately. Crouching down you spoke, "Hey, its okay... We're far away. You can take the pain medication, its just us two."

He peaked open an eye to look at you, his face barred disappointment in himself. Almost like he was a lesser man if he took the meds.

"Take them. If not for yourself, for me." You pulled them from your pocket. He did take them, minutes later he felt the relief.

You took another look at his wound, it was stable for now. You figured that he would need a cleaning and new bandages in a few hours. Hopefully his medkit was fully equipped on his ship. If it was, you'd be able to last many days without needing to land.

You stood, pulling his head to your breast. "Shhh, rest now. We are both safe."

He truly did feel safe in your arms, like he didn't have to always be on guard. A huge change from his normal. One he'd hoped he could live out with you for the rest of his life...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I got a little carried away with this one... I just had to get this idea written down!!!

Tags-(lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss @dangraccoon

[roygbivvie]

-TF2 MERC KINKY HEADCANNONS-

*This is like my first time writing anything on here so have mercy on my mortal soul*

Nsfw warning obvi, so 18+..but also it gets pretty damn kinky in here so beware.

- [x] Spy

Spy in my mind is absolutely a switch. He absolutely has a daddy kink and a knife kink, but he also wants more than anything for someone (scouts mom) (or you ;0) to yank him down by his tie and force him to his knees. He likes surprises. These can be sexual in nature or not. I feel he would also like blindfolds regardless of who’s wearing it. covers your eyes and says “guess who” ass motherfucker. He’d growl too i think.

- [x] Sniper

many thoughts are to be had about this man in particular. For starters, by no means am i one to kink shame. My blog would be more of a testament to that if my likes were public. However, i simply do not think he has a piss kink. I think he puts absolutely no thought into pissing in jars besides the fact that it’s purposefully insulting to his targets in game. With that out of the way, his kinks. Do i even need to say primal kink? This fella read most dangerous game and thought: damn.. that’s kinda sexy. He wants to set you loose in the woods and track you down to fuck you. he wants it outside. he wants it dirty, sweaty, covered in blood and mud. He wants it animal style but literally. Aside from primal stuff, he loooves roadhead and hitting that thang from the back.

- [x] Scout

Now scout is a tricky one. Unlike basically all of the other mercs, i don’t think he’s super kinky. Here’s some thoughts anyways. He’d definitely start out kinda preformatively domineering, but the man has no ability to bluff. he’d ask constantly if he’s doing ok / if there’s something you want him to do. He is an absolute sucker for any praise. Compliment him on literally anything, and he’ll be a puddle in your lap.

- [x] Pyro

The mask STAYS. ON. during sex. The only way i could see them removing it is if they first blindfolded you. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just refuse for absolutely anyone to see them. So i hope you have a mask kink, because they’ve certainly developed one. Other kinks they may have would be sensory play. I’m talkin hot wax, ice, feathers, incense, maybe even needles. basically the whole shebang. Pyro also has a love for fantasy, and i feel like Ovipositors would lend quite well to that. They probably have quite the extensive bad dragon collection.

- [x] Engineer

He absolutely makes you toys.. and them suckers are POWERFUL. He’d absolutely make a fuck machine, or several. I think he’s extra into having anything you use to get off be made by him. He’s mega into overstimulating you. He likes to watch his handiwork absolutely wreck you over and over. He may even want others to watch too. I think he’d have a size kink whether you’re bigger or smaller than him, I just think he’d like the difference.

- [x] Demo

I think he likes cuddlefucking and somnophilia. Nothin sobers him up faster than waking up to head. Now when he gets in the mood for it, it’s degradation BIG time. like so bad that he probably feels he has to apologize afterwards.

He also likes to spit on you. Also i don’t know how it would work, but there’s potential kink-ery with that ghost eye of his. I don’t know how, but the potential is there.

- [x] Medic

Oh boy this freak..

Did someone say knife kink? yea. yeaaaaah. And it’s pretty extreme. He’s not just threatening you, he’ll really do it. He likes to keep you strapped to a medical bed n shit too. I think he’d like to spoon-feed people. He gets off on giving you sugar pills to make you “feel better” wait.. were those really sugar pills? fuck. You’ll wake up sore with maybe an organ or two missing, but that’s the price to pay for those big sexy jugs he’s got. Don’t worry he’s a master at aftercare.

- [x] Heavy

Size kink outta the way, I think Heavy is into Dollification. He wants to take care of you, dress you in frilly outfits, and keep you on a shelf like a little collectible next to Sasha. He might even share you with medic.. take you in to get “fixed” if he ever brakes you..

……….. fleshlight position 0////0

- [x] Soldier

WAM!!! (wet and messy) for sure. I mean the honey in the comics certainly did something for him. wearing red, white, and blue? you won’t be wearing anything in no time. I feel like degradation is also a certain for him. Don’t tell anyone but he secretly wants you to put him in his place .. he definitely doesn’t want more than anything to follow someone’s orders..

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I am working on a story where one of the three protagonist has a burn scar. This character has from the eye to half their right cheek of a burn; this happened around 9 years ago (the character was 10.)

I am working on historical-fantasy setting, I know you guys are not historians but I was hoping you could help me out with ideas.

In my story, there is a few chapters where the characters go to a snowy mountain for a couple of days, and there are temperatures ranging from 20ºF to 10ºF with snow and harsh wind, is there any protection/possible cream needed for the face and the eye for that situation?

Also, around 10% of the story has fights that include armour (including a helmet to protect the face and the head,) would a character with that type of burn may need a special helmet?

Just to clarify, the character for most of the story doesn't have any mask or anything covering their face, except in the moments of battle where every other character is also using a helmet and armour.

Not sure if there is anything potentially problematic in this, but the character got that injury due to a baby dragon of the family accidentally burning his face (this is a society where dragons are like animals and common in the house.) Because it happened so many years ago there isn't any angst feeling or people in his community commenting about, except in a scene where the protagonists are talking about traumatic things and this character mentioned that they remember when it happened his parents were afraid he was not going to make it, not realizing he was hearing it.

There are other background characters with burns, scars and stumps due to the nature of this world, but I am concentrating in this protagonist right now.

Hi!

For weather this cold, your character would need a LOT of moisturizing creams. Possibly a comical amount. They would help to protect the skin from both the wind and cold. Burn scars don't have the natural oils, so his skin would be very dry normally, let alone during the winter. Even in normal temperatures, it's recommended to apply moisture multiple times a day. If something like sunscreen is available to your character, he would use it too (and often). Burns are sensitive to the sun, and some people use it even when it's cloudy. During the winter it's also commonly used because the snow reflects it. (As you said, I'm very much not a historian and I don't know what would work as non-modern equivalents... I assume that shea butter or olive oils could be on the table here? Certainly better than nothing. Or even just Magical Herb Mixture, if it's fantasy.)

As for the eye protection, I would say that most people in 20ºF to 10ºF (-6ºC to -12ºC) would need it, especially if it's both snowing and windy lol. I have experienced those temperatures and it can be hard to see even without extremely sensitive skin/eyes. But generally yes, harsh wind could be actively painful to someone with a burn scar. If it's too hard on him, he could wear some very loose cloth to cover it (prime example of a scenario where a face covering makes medical and just logical sense). It shouldn't be tight; maybe just a large hood or veil that would still be away from that part of their face.

Note: it could also not be painful at all. Burns come with nerve damage, and sometimes nerves make non-painful stimuli hurt really bad, and sometimes they make it so a person doesn't feel pain when they should. If your character is the second, they would bear it better at the time but still have all the other issues - skin breakdown, contraction, cracking, itching.

Not sure what other kind of eye protection would be available, but even regular glasses would help with the "not getting blasted with wind and snow" part. Make sure that with the protection he wears, it doesn't touch the scar directly. That can be extremely painful and cause skin to break in that kind of environment, especially if he's not a regular at the Snowy Mountain. If they are, they will handle it much better - scars get more or less desensitized with repetitive exposure.

For a helmet, I think having it padded from the inside would be a good idea. Preferably with something relatively smooth (maybe cloth or fur?) so that it doesn't scratch the burn. Potentially something to "stabilize" it (maybe their helmet could be custom-made for their exact head size?) so that it doesn't hit his scar over and over too if it's too large. I appreciate that others characters wear helmets too, and that he does for only a minor part of the story :-) (smile emoji))

The backstory scenario sounds fine to me as well! House pet trying to play and causing an injury is definitely a thing when it comes to facial differences haha. I can imagine that it would be even more common if the pet in question is a dragon and not a regular dog.

Having multiple burn survivors in a world with fire-breathing creatures that live in human homes is a nice element of worldbuilding :) (smile emoji)! I think that if this kind of thing happens often, then some of the resources I mentioned (moisturizes, sunblock) would be more readily available for your main character and people in similar sets of circumstances.

Thank you for your ask, I hope it helped a bit!

Mod Sasza

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Outbreak Pt 3 (LU in Healthcare)

(Content warning, this is a plague fic, it will likely hit close to home, and there’s dark humor and character death in this part)

It started off as a whisper, but the whisper became a chatter, a groan, constant and disturbing and growing ever closer.

Cases were on the rise in the city, though the surrounding area seemed unaffected still, for now. City officials were growing concerned, and restrictions were starting to be enacted. People were asked to stay home, if possible. As for the hospital and squads…

Hyrule squinted at his email. "Wait. Didn't... didn't they say we could use alcohol wipes to clean the equipment?"

"Yeah," Mo called from the kitchenette in the station.

"Now it says we can only use bleach wipes."

Mo groaned. "Isn't that like the third policy change this week?"

"I'm still trying to figure out if we're doing a specific isolation truck or not anymore," Aurora mumbled. "Like we just had one truck dedicated to the high risk iso cases, and now we're getting so many calls for it that it's a moot point anyway."

"I think the last email said put plastic over everything for Arfy patients and then wipe everything down that you use," Mo replied.

"Wait, which email?"

Hyrule sighed. This was getting ridiculous. And he was getting just a little nervous. “When in doubt, just bleach everything, I guess.”

Aurora huffed. “Did you see the email about the respirators?”

“Which email?” Mo threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “I’ve got twenty new emails!”

“I suppose that means you’ll actually have to read them now,” Aurora noted with a snort.

“Do you all think it’ll get worse before it gets better?” Dawn asked, wringing her hands worriedly. “The OMD made it sound like that would be the case.”

“Our medical director knows more than I do,” Hyrule shrugged. “If he says it’s going to get worse—”

“No, he didn’t just say that, he said ‘it’s not a matter of if the wave hits us, but when,’” Aurora quoted, standing. “He scared the hell out of Dawn.”

“They’re pretty foreboding words,” Hyrule commented darkly, looking away. It was the main reason he was getting nervous. But he was also steeling himself. If they were in for a fight, he would face it head on.

“Okay, but what does any of this have to do with the email about the respirators?” Mo asked as he scrolled frantically through his email.

“Oh, we’re supposed to wear N95s now,” Aurora answered with a wave of her hand.

Hyrule blinked. “Wait. Aren’t—aren’t we supposed to get fit tested for those?”

“Oh, yeah,” Aurora nodded, rolling her eyes. “Here’s your official fit test: pick a mask that fits.”

“We’re all going to die, aren’t we?” Dawn questioned worriedly, hugging herself.

“Nobody’s died from Arfy yet, I don’t think,” Mo noted. “At least not here.”

“People have died,” Aurora corrected.

“Well, maybe we’ll die, then,” Mo amended.

Hyrule laughed while Aurora swatted his partner. Well… at least they’d die fighting. But he really hoped it wouldn’t get to that point.

While the rescue squads struggled to keep up with policies and slapped shoddy safety regulations into place, the hospital clamped down even further. Visitor policies had officially been revoked as of today, and it made all the providers somewhat uneasy.

In some aspects, it was helpful. In others, it made things that much harder.

Arfy patients were medical patients. Which meant the medical floor and ICU was quickly filling up while other parts of the hospital either maintained their quota or decreased as people stayed home. More and more, Four found himself floating to his friend’s ICU, and he felt fairly out of his depths about it. The one good thing was that he got to spend time with Dot. But as cases rose, so did the stress, the worry, and the heartache.

The ICU felt less like a unit where critically ill people got better and more like a place to go to die.

Four and Dot had the same patient assignment for four days in a row. It was the same assignment because nothing had changed with the patients. Intubated, sedated, paralyzed, some proned. The amount of sedation required to keep their patients under was far more than Four was used to, and it was insane how little it would take for their oxygen saturation to drop. Any semblance of activity in the body increased oxygen demand, and the instant oxygen demand increased, no amount of intervention from the ventilator seemed to help. ECMO was a word Four had hardly heard in his trauma ICU, but he heard it on a near daily basis now, being considered at rounds, being initiated with someone else’s patient.

Four was exhausted. His face was breaking out from wearing a respirator for twelve hours at a time. His feet and knees and hips hurt from standing in isolation rooms for three to four hours at a time trying to cluster all his care. And now, with the visitor restriction enacted…

Visitors were hit or miss, particularly in Four’s world. Trauma precipitated drama, and while family could be infinitely helpful and supportive, he’d also seen things go awry, had to deescalate fights or call security. In some aspects, he was thankful there were no visitors while all of this was happening; he was tired of having to explain that yes, you have to wear this gown and gloves and mask, no you can’t kiss your loved one while they’re intubated and sedated with a contagious disease… but still. He couldn’t imagine how hard it was on the family - the patients were sedated to the point that they shouldn’t be aware of anything, but the family had to agonize over the matter at home.

He didn’t like it. He understand the logic. But he didn’t like it.

And so here he sat, holding a patient’s hand while they withdrew care. Here he sat, being the only witness to someone’s last breaths while their family mourned from afar.

Four watched the heart rate steadily drop. He watched the oxygen saturation plummet. He muted the red alarms as the monitor screamed that his patient was dying, that something should be done, like an accusation and call to arms when Four knew this particular fight was over.

He wasn’t a particularly religious person, but he said a prayer for the patient and the family either way. He found himself praying a lot these days, honestly.

While the visitor policy took its toll inside the frame of work, the restrictions both inside and outside the hospital were causing further stress on everyone. Warriors had basically banned Wind from seeing him, opting to stay with Time and Malon instead, leaving the kid in the apartment. He brought food deliveries to the door, asked if Wind needed anything, but he always did so when Wind wasn’t awake - the teenager had swore up and down that if anybody got Arfy he’d take care of them, and Warriors was terrified of that promise as it was basically a threat. Time agreed that Wind didn’t need to get involved, much to the teenager’s chagrin, and Wind found himself already struggling from the loneliness and the frustration of trying to study for classes online when nobody knew what they were doing or how long this would last.

Meanwhile, Wild sat in his room, fingers aimlessly tracing over each other, the smell of bleach so fresh in his nose from scrubbing everything relentlessly for hours on end that he might as well have inhaled a bottle of it. His chest hurt. Not to mention that new disinfectant they were told to use made him cough a lot.

And he worried. Because… it had been a few days since he’d seen his father. Legend had given him updates through his sister (and made Wild swear not to tell anyone about her), and it had sounded like he was improving as expected. But now, he… the rest of the family…

It felt like a blessing and a curse. It was a guarantee that Wild couldn’t run into his mother or sister by accident, but it was also a situation that his mind screamed that he address.

He couldn’t just… he couldn’t just leave his father isolated and alone recovering in the hospital in the midst of an outbreak. He couldn’t.

But what if visiting him made things so much worse? What if it stressed his father’s recovering heart? What if it triggered more traumatic memories for Wild? He was terrified of getting anywhere near the man while he was awake, but his heart screamed that he go to him.

Wild refused to be a coward. And he refused to be heartless, despite how anxious this entire situation made him, despite how his mind screamed he keep away. So that night, when he got on to work, he took a delivery to the cardiovascular ICU and paused in front of a doorway, looking hopefully for a familiar nurse.

“Link? Wild?”

Jumping, Wild turned around to see the nurse in question, watching him scrutinously. She smiled (or at least, he assumed she did, based on how her eye crinkled above her mask) in recognition. “I thought it was you. You here to see your dad?”

Wild swallowed and nodded.

“Good, because the drama I’ve been trying to avoid has been driving me insane,” Legend’s sister said lightheartedly, but despite the casualness of her tone, the words sank into Wild’s stomach like a stone.

“Drama?” He questioned quietly.

“Nothing like… bad, I suppose, but still,” the nurse explained. “I’d be in there taking care of him and overhear him talking to his wife and he’d mention that he swore he saw you. I’m not entirely sure she’s convinced. She seems hopeful, though. But I figured it was best not to bring it up myself since I, ah, don’t know what’s going on.”

Wild felt his blood freeze. His father remembered? And he’d told his mother?

Great. This was… this was just great.

“Go see him,” Legend’s sister prompted gently. “I can tell he loves you very much and just wants to know you’re ok.”

Wild’s eyes unexpectedly burned with tears in an instant, and he was grateful he was wearing a mask to hide his expression. He nodded, hesitantly making his way towards the room.

It all seemed so normal, seeing his father sitting in a recliner looking at his phone. Wild wasn’t even entirely sure he’d recovered memories of his father like that, but somehow it seemed familiar. Abel hadn’t noticed him yet, engrossed in whatever he was looking at, brow slightly furrowed. That expression drew memories, a familiar scrutiny that he would often give Wild himself or his sister, a quiet concern and sternness that made Wild want to stiffen up and simultaneously run to him.

Damn it all, he’d missed him.

Wild swallowed his fears and stepped forward, hoping that this wouldn’t be a disaster. He knocked on the door, initially so quietly that his father didn’t hear him over the chatter of the news on the television. He knocked again.

His father looked up. Stared a moment. Went a shade paler.

Wild hastily stepped forward. “W-wait, don’t get worked up—”

His father stood, seeming mostly steady on his feet, and tried to walk to him, heedless of the cords and oxygen tubing attached, and Wild hastily met him part of the way before he ripped everything out of the wall. Abel immediately pulled him to his chest in the tightest hug Wild had ever felt, and…

And Link sank into the embrace, crying.

[kirke-is-my-name]

Hello! Can i request headcandons of Miguel o'hara with a shy nurse reader who is constantly tired? Being nurse is a physically and mentally demanding job and i love the dynamic of hero who falls over his heels for his nurse or even being protective over her, but if u don't want to make this request i understand

I’m so sorry I just saw this! But of course let’s see what I can think of 😌

A nurse reader who is dating Miguel would honestly have a terrible sleep schedule like him.

Like poor baby is working 24,48 or 72 hour shifts at the hospital. And often times hardly sleeps so when you are home it’s time for rest and relaxation

When working those longer shifts Miguel makes it his job to arrive home at least 90 minutes before you, so he can not only prepare a bath with all your favorite soaks. But also a hot home cooked meal. Because god damn it you deserve something nice

If you need something? He will get it. You need to rant about your shift? Don’t worry he is a good listener. You need to cook dinner? Nonsense sit down and he will cook.

Two sleep deprived lovers whatever will they do!?Sleep…they sleep can only sleep if the other is in bed with them.

If you start nodding off he will carry you to the bed. And if you refuse to sleep he will sit in the bed with you and do some work or also fall asleep.

Has Lyla constantly keep watch at your hospital to alert him if anything is wrong.

Oh you haven’t eaten? You have a DoorDash under you name within the hour. Running out of medical supplies? Nonsense someone just bought some for your entire department . You had to deal with a very hard patient? Woah look at that someone sent you flowers. Someone threatened you? That’s so weird they ended up in the police station brushed and hurt…

He is whipped

Knowing he is spiderman and seeing the damage his villain can do to others really only makes you appreciate him more. Granted if an innocent person is harmed you are chewing him out. He might of gone to your work a few time as both Spider-Man and Miguel asking for your help to patch him up. The one time he tried to fix his injuries himself you scolded him at doing such a bad job that you insist on patching him up every night if you have to.

Honestly? His favorite time watching your hands move to maybe sow together a cut that’s rather deep. Or even wrapping him up, his just looks down fondly at you as patch him up and talk about whatever is on your mind. But if he is being a little shit his wrappings or thread might be pulled a bit too tight.

Both of you acknowledging the other has a difficult job, but Miguel thinks you are stronger then him in every sense. While he saves the multiverse he doesn’t personally interact with the people. You though…you talk to them and get to know the people. He saves the world but you save the people.

It gets hard losing a patient who was a kid or someone you’ve bonded with. Often times you’ve cried at their passing. But you have a job to do and as quickly as you cried, the tears vanish and you continue your job. For that alone Miguel believes you are stronger . To truck on after losing someone and still maintaining a friendly demeanor and positive attitude. Even when you know the situation won’t get better. Is something he knows he couldn’t do but you can. So when you cry and are tired he comforts you in every way he can. Because one person can only strong for a certain amount of time before it gets to them.

One time someone took a picture of Spider-Man with you in his arms. For WEEKS your coworker and patient cornered you asking if you know the masked hero. You stuck with the story “noI just patch him up really?!” Of course a villain saw that picture and though it was a bright idea to kidnap you and use you against Miguel…bad idea. Sure you are a nurse and SHOULD be helping the injured but after seeing the damage Miguel left you turned your head and said “Im off the clock so I can’t help them”

Bonus

You needed new scrubs so Lyla order a spider-man themed scrubs for you. Honestly got a nice laugh out of it and you wear them at least once a week.

Another time your lunch happened to be the Miguel Burger and attached was a small strawberry also designed like Miguel. It cheered you up for sure

[birdwonder]

Any Eyeless Jack x Reader hcs please? 👀 Anything is good.

EYELESS JACK DATING HCs .

WARNINGS . . . Very vaguely spicy thanks to biting. I headcanon that EJ can see but it's super blurry and can only make out details if they're right in front of him, otherwise he relies on his nose, ears, ect to get by. EYELESS JACK . . . - Literally can not stand the sight of other people touching you. He knows better than to be mindlessly jealous but whether it be his own vice or a consequence of being resurrected by a demon, he hates seeing someone lay their hands on you. Which is ironic because his eye sight is fucking piss poor.

- Which also means he hates smelling other people on you. If the scent of another proxy was stuck to any of your clothes he wants to rip it apart. But still, he has restraint. Most times. - Jack is in no way above leaving reminders on your body to let people know you belong to him. Give him permission and he's sinking his teeth into you to leave a nice, visible bit on your shoulder or where your shoulder met your neck. It's either that or a horrendous amount of hickeys. - He isn't into PDA and won't hug or kiss you in front of people. Closed doors and open doors. But he won't complain too much if you really want to give him some affection, just don't overdo it. - Loves it when you sit on his lap. Doesn't matter your size, the man is massive and can hold you with no problem. Nestle down on his thighs and let him wrap his arms around your waist, your bodies pressed together. - It takes him a long time to get comfortable with not wearing his mask around you but he'll fall in love all over again if you don't make a big deal out of his face. There's no need to pepper him with praise either, just treat him like he's normal. - He does like to praise you, however. Jack will bury his face into your neck and mutter about how beautiful you are and how sweet you smell. He might let his wants take over his mouth and start mumbling about how you're his and his only. Might even mention how he'd kill and die for you. Maybe. - Jack is definitely a medic for other proxies so you make any excuse to come see him in the infirmary. Oh you got a little paper cut ? Guess you need to see the good doctor. He'll find it amusing and humours it since it means more time with you, even if he doesn't make that obvious. - "This is your third time this week coming here," he huffs. - "Not my fault I need medical attention !" You retort. - "Just sit on the bed."

[oh-shit-i-spilled-my-genderfluid]

Random Vincent Sinclair headcannons

- doesn’t wear his mask in the basement, and usually not in his everyday life. It’s not super comfortable and he can’t see/breathe well with it and his brothers don’t give a shit what he looks like, so why wear it out for no reason? Also the basement gets super warm with the fire and melted wax so his mask would start to deform and straight up melt. Maybe he has a mini fridge down there to keep his masks cool and close if he needs them idk

- if he was born later he would’ve been a massive Percy Jackson fan, he seems to have an interest in mythology/mythological monsters so yeah. Percy Jackson. He’d be in cabin 7 or 9.

- probably sleeps in the basement a lot, it’s the only place he feels completely safe and comfortable. He even sleeps there in the summer, when the combined Louisiana heat and the fire/wax makes the basement feel like a damn sauna. Bo has to go check on him every once in a while to make sure he hasn’t died from heat stroke or something.

- speaking of Bo, I don’t see him as being abusive towards Vincent (I can definitely see why some people interpreted their interactions like that but to me if I had just been shot in the chest and arm with a crossbow and I had to go hunt down some random kids before they called the cops I would also not be in the mood for kind words lol). Bo can definitely be a bitch sometimes, but they do genuinely care for each other. Their relationship is part normal sibling closeness and part trauma bond, but they manage.

- doesn’t care much for his hair, just brushes it sometimes. The Sinclairs definitely have one of those 14in1 shampoo-bodywash-spackle type things, and that’s fine by him. He does brush it a lot tho, that’s something he cares about.

- can cook, but not well. The food he cooks is edible but not much else. Bo does more cooking (he’s slightly better, but only slightly). Vincent puts way too little or no salt at all in his food. I don’t know why. He just likes his food bland and tasteless.

- is somewhat interested in medical stuff. Like it was the only thing him and his father could bond over and he was taught some basics, and has continued to learn to make his art better. If Bo or Lester gets injured he’s the one to take care of it (although Bo would rather bleed out or die from an infection than get any help, Lester has to wrestle him down so that Vincent can patch up his wounds)

- idk I just always thought Jonesy was Vincent’s dog, but sort of also the family dog? Like she can run around and hang out with anyone but she’s technically Vincent’s dog?

- grew up listening to classical music and got kinda Pavlov’d into being more creative when listening to it so now that’s basically all he listens to while working. He will politely listen to Bo’s Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails without complaining, but it’s not his type of music.

- does a lot of different art stuff. Wax sculpting is like his main thing and his job (sorta), but the list of creative endeavors he does in his free time is endless. Has a particular affinity for charcoal drawings. Someone should introduce him to digital art, he would be ecstatic.