#r6s imagined

[wastedr00k]

Ahhhh you’re back!!! I’m so happy to see you again! 🖤🖤 not sure if you will write for Fenrir from r6s? Some people are ok with him and others not so much. But if so could I please request either some nsfw headcanons or just a nsfw one shot of him and either a gender neutral or afab reader? Thank you so so much!

fenrir x reader (rainbow six siege)

synopsis; nsfw headcannons

genre; nsfw / 18+

words: 419

× on contrary to popular belief, fenrir leans more towards vanilla/loving sexual preference ; and he does not have much, if any, experiences with anyone else

× always eager to please his partner

× but that doesn't mean he won't use punishment as a teacher, if he deems fit, be prepared for a long night ;

sometimes he'll throw in some chemicals that act as a sex pollen, to either heighten your senses or/and increase your sexual desires, with consent of course

sensory deprivation for sure, blindfolded being his favorite among all for sure

× not an exhibitionist, he rather keep your body for his own private viewing and enjoyment

× a very verbal man during sex, either praises or degrading, sometimes he's feral side comes through and mixes both together, but it's always a good mix ;

"you're taking me so well, my darling. keep squeezing around me and i'll make sure to reward you well." Fenrir growls, his thrusts and pace unrelenting.

with your hands tied behind your back, cheeks pressed into the bed, there really wasn't much that you could say in response. all you could focus on was the feeling of Emil filling you up over and over again, his heat piercing you over and over again, pressing against all of your sweet spots.

"am i pleasuring you so well you can't even speak out a simple sentence? such a well behaved darling, letting me use your body like this." he chuckles and landed a slap on your ass cheeks, "keep still my darling, we still got a long night ahead.".

-

"you taste so sweet, give me more, use me to feel good." Emil breathed out, then pulling you down into his face by holding your thighs down. having you sit on his face has always been his favorite position. your hot flesh pressed against him while his tongue works in wonders on your heat, with his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave marks but he'll kiss it later anyway. as moans of his name leaves your mouth, you can't help but to notice his very erect cock, it's head covered in pre-cum. with your blurry vision, you leaned down to reach your mouth onto his dick, taking him into your mouth.

feeling the heat of your mouth warped around him, Fenrir lets out a deep growl, then letting go of your heat, moving his fingers takes his tongue's place, thrusting inside and out slowly while stretching you out, "such a good darling, pleasing me so good.".

-

× will be romantic during special occasions, and he'll pull up all the stops, all the way from rose petals to candles and anything he feels will help set the mood

× plenty of aftercare, during both romantic and punishment sessions, he may bully you once in a while but he still loves and cherishes you very much

× for sure ties up his hair during sex

[itsohh]

Harishva Pandey - 2023

[r6s-imagines]

jackal x reader >> quit your squirming

•••

MASTERLIST

warnings: swearing, light injuries, tiny bit of nsfw, makeout sesh

•••

summary: jackal needs more practice perfecting his appearance, and the organization pilot happy to provide assistance.

notes: LOL I STARTED WRITING AGAIN VINE BOOM

•••

your knees wobbled from the lack of movement as you stood from the foam pad on the pavement floor, wiping your forehead and leaving a thin streak of grime onto your skin. rainbow should invest more into their vehicle care than their damn firing range, you thought. what good is aim if you can’t take it anywhere? bias aside, your error report was due to the director and you felt your joints cry out as you took slow steps back into the facility.

the universe had oddly comedic timing, making you climb up three flights of stairs to get to the drop-off destination. your eyes traced the fine stripe running alongside the wall, catching each door label and looking for the right one.

having been employed there for a large part of your working age, the door placements were almost muscle memory. marius’s mechanics office was fourth door down the south wing. you’d been there a million times, and when you swore you hit the fourth door, you knocked once and looped your arm around the knob, swinging open the door.

“marius, i have the--”

“carajo!”

a whisper-yell violated your ears and you stumbled, spilling the documents across the floor. the lone wolf jackal was sitting at his desk, chip up toward the ceiling and a large weathered hand concealing his neck. quite literally being the last man you hoped to meet in your condition, your temperature flared up and you could feel your underarms dampening.

the spaniard's hair was slicked back with curly flyaways, water dripping down his thick neck. his facial hair seemed to be taking over his face, though not too unkempt. you always considered him a perfect specimen, from his stone-cold perspective on extractions to the way he'd rest against a wall during a business celebration. "perfect," in your mind, did not mean flawless. he's slipped up, missed meetings, sometimes even forgotten his helmet for a mission. he was your hot, imaginary disaster of a boyfriend. in your daydreams, at least.

to those besides yourself, to call specialist jackal a disaster would be a practical understatement. sure, you’d catch his passing glance in the transport helicopter or watch his back muscles flex as he shrugged on his vest, but that doesn’t mean his interior was stable.

ramírez was a man past his prime, yet not weathered to the extent of being “too old.” your trusted co-pilot, jäger, called him your salt and pepper crush (for unclear reasons to you) to the point of you threatening to send the copter straight into the ocean.

"ramírez," your voice cracked. "sorry for the interruption. it seems i entered the wrong door. have a good day."

"i- no- wait-" he huffed, lifting his hand from his neck. he glanced in the mirror which caused his eyes to widen. ramírez reached out to you, quickly yet tenderly taking hold of your forearm. "could you... help. really quick. please."

it seemed like a cruel setup to an evil prank. you were too old for games, but you could name a few other operators that would seem up for such a thing. he continued.

"could you get me some gauze, l/n? a cotton ball. something. anything, por favor."

"are you okay?"

"yes. i cut my neck shaving," he looked up to your panicked expression. "just a little nick, don't worry."

you scurried toward one of the many first aid kits nailed to the wall. you flipped it open, fumbling for some sort of bandage. you paused, gripping it in your palm.

now's your chance, mein frund, you could hear jäger in your head. you nodded to yourself and reentered his room. jackal had not moved from his position but was now standing an inch from his mirror.

"gracias," he thanked, reaching out to grab the gauze from your hand. your quick thinking caused you to pull back.

"let me help," you said, with a light smirk. it had been some time since you last had the chance to flirt, with work and all clouding your mind since you got out of college. "i can see it better. sit."

he sat down, legs wide. you shuffled between his left leg, practically sitting on it. he readjusted in his seat. without even thinking twice, you held his chin and turned it upward.

"i can't reach it, it's like.. right under your jaw-" you mumbled mostly to yourself. you watched his jaw clenched and eyes glue to the ceiling and said nothing about it. it's working. "where is it?"

"here," jackal whispered back, placing his hand over yours and moving your hand to his pulse. you began to wipe at the blood, yet it never seemed to stop. fighting the frustration, you furrowed your brow and continued cleaning his neck, when suddenly, you heard a low groaning noise.

"quit your squirming," you instructed, holding him down with more authority. he continued to breathe through his teeth, and you felt his body heat radiating despite the gap. you began to get worried.

"is this okay?" you asked, referring to the cut. his breathing became heavier and body stiffer.

"yes... hhh—stay like that."

you raised an eyebrow, checking your surroundings. during your frustrations, you seemed to have taken a seat on his lap, with your hand applying gentle pressure on the sides of his neck. you soon realized he was not talking about the blood.

"me encanta esto." it was almost inaudible, said barely above a whisper, but you heard it.

for a moment, time stopped. you pulled your gauze-hand back, and truly seizing this glorious opportunity, placed it on his chest. it was just as amazing as you pictured it felt. was this actually happening right now? is he just really into this, or is he so uncomfortable he can't even speak?

he lowered his chin, meeting your eyes once before glancing down at your lips. you couldn't help but admire his long, dark eyelashes. his lips parted.

"can i kiss you...?" ramírez asked, fixated on your mouth. you nodded, slowly.

as if waiting a million years, his instincts took over as he grabbed the back of your neck and waist, pulling you in and smashing your lips together. you kissed back feverishly, holding the sides of his face and starting to slowly grind against his thigh. he tasted like minty rain and you loved every bit of it. after nearly a minute straight, you pulled away, taking a deep catching breath. you were so caught up against his lips you didn't notice the small trail of blood soaking into his shirt collar.

"ramírez—" you began, but he kissed you once more, just as deeply but as quick as a peck.

"thank you for the help," he replied in a low rumble. "i think i've got it from here."

you jumped up, remembering the report. you started to apologize before he grabbed your hand, squeezing it once.

"i'll be here. don't worry, i'll wait for you."

you nodded, closing his door behind you. it felt like high school prom! you cheered to yourself, throwing punches and kicking the air. who knew it was that easy?!

[kate-bishops-waifu]

I need the people who cosplay her

To cosplay her

And I don't think I need to explain that.

[unbindingkerberos]

🐤🐤💕

[wynvyuu]

Hello! I was wondering if you’d write something for Maverick from r6s? I feel like he’s a little unpopular :( I’m open to anything you wanna write! But if you need ideas: him and reader relaxing/bonding after a mission; “there was only one bed” trope (a fav); or him showing reader how to work his torch and it’s a little *heated* (get it? because it’s a torch?) If you don’t wanna I understand! Thanks either way 🌈💜

Hi there, Anon!! You’re so right, Maverick seems so unpopular and I don’t really get why omg  😭 😭 😭 I’m always happy to add to the Mav fics, especially with a ‘there was only one bed’ trope involved >:) lotsa good suggestions you gave here, I tried to include as many a possible!! Hope you love  💖

tw// alcohol usage in a recreational setting with no severe drunkenness

it’s dark when you get into the inn. hot, too. you’re in the dead of summer, and sweat clings to your skin and clothes and makes it difficult to maneuver the ancient key into the inn room keyhole. even worse, you know your partner is staring at you, watching the way your hand shakily fumbles with the doorknob. maverick doesn’t say anything, ever polite (if not austere and quiet), but you know he’s looking. it’s hard not to—his eyes have that quality to him, burning and bright, just like the cattle brand he’s named for.

his gaze remains even as you finally manage to get the door open. it swings inward and reveals a dark, dusty space, an artifact from an earlier time. you’re worried already—though darkness shrouds your vision, shadowy outlines further in suggest only one blocky mattress instead of two. your heart pounds. when arranging this inn stay, six repeatedly confirmed two beds instead of one. how could this one aspect of your mission have gone so astronomically wrong?

maverick, ever the empath, recognizes your hesitation even before you do. he bumps your elbow with his, shifting his lips beneath dusty blonde stubble. “we going in or sleeping outside tonight?” he phrases it as a joke, but you know as well as he does that sleeping outside is always an option for him.

in lieu of true comfort, you stumble over a laugh, and keep your voice steady through sheer willpower. “no, we’re… we’re goin’ in.”

you’re the first to take the plunge. in you go, hands fumbling over a 50-year-old lightswitch on the left wall in the process. with a click, illumination floods the bedroom with brilliant radiance, albeit smoky and flickering, emanating from fluorescent lights spotted over with dark patches overhead. in the dappled half-light, your worst fears are concerned. once dark outlines elevate into full images—just as you suspected, there is only one bed, and it leers at you from its spot in the bedroom’s center, as if mocking you with how much space it takes up. when maverick takes a spot at your side and drops his bags down near your feet, you hear his lips part. he must be imagining the same thing you are. he inhales sharply in preparation to say something, but you cut him off long before he has the chance.

“wine?” you turn to him after unearthing a bottle of cheap cabernet from your pack, unopened and gleaming beneath the sickly fluorescent light.

he laughs, just a little. you like hearing that from him; maverick’s more stoic than you think he should be. if all were right in the world, he would be smiling and laughing all the time, in that low, chuckling tune that rumbles in your chest. not all is right, though. this night is the first of many that you two will be behind enemy lines, intelligence agents risking your lives to get vital information back to six. you don’t know what tomorrow holds, nor what the day after that will. tonight, however, is peaceful; nice. if this is that last night that he laughs in a while, you want to make it a good one. hence, wine. a silly sentiment, maybe, a bottle grabbed off empty shelves moments before you left the hereford base in preparation for your assignment, but a sentiment that he seems to appreciate nonetheless. both of you know from experience that the nights before danger are the best for indulging in creature comforts.

a nod and a few murmured words sees the two of you sitting in rickety wicker chairs on a dirt-caked balcony staring out over the sonoran desert, a world of stars and wilderness. a smattering of constellations and distant worlds illuminates your bodies and the bottle of wine that hovers uncertainly between you, half-downed. idyllic is hardly a word to describe such an environment, and yet your eyes burn maverick’s profile into your brain. somehow the stars only enhance his rugged features. the stars conferred with each other to knit him together at this moment as if he’s always belonged here with you since his conception. you’re buzzed from the wine, certainly, but deep, deep down, you know you would have ogled him so fanatically even if you were sober.

the wine seems to have dulled his senses too. normally he notices when you look at him this way, but a lull in his permanent state of vigilance sends his eyes to the stars. so thoughtful, you think to yourself. what could possibly enrapture him so?

“what are you thinking about?” you wonder, voice soft. he turns his head to glance at you, the faintest hints of a smile on his lips.

“the stars,” he murmurs finally, sending one last look to the heavens. “constellations are the same everywhere, but the meanings change.”

he smiles up at the sky and deep down, you wish he was smiling at you too.

“the latin world was so obsessed with the bigger picture; ursa major, the great bear,” he continues. it occurs to you that this is the first time he’s spoken at length about the nebulous ideas within his brilliant mind. “the middle-east wasn’t, though. put a lot of damn importance on the value of the individual. named every individual star, but not how they came together. al-qa’id, ‘the leader’, at the vanguard. al-hawar, ‘the white of the eye’, right there.”

he indicates something far above you, but you can’t quite catch the meaning. in an effort to reach closer to the deepest corners of maverick’s thoughts and dreams, you point up at what you think to be the constellation he’s referring to, palm wavering against a dark, glistening background. “there?”

he chuckles at your side. “close, but no cigar,” he murmurs. in a confidential meeting of skin, he gently takes hold of your palm with his own, and a quiet adjustment places you in the same realm he’s in. you can’t help the flush in your face as he does so; all you can do is trace the tattoo of kabul on his thick forearm as it slowly fades from your touch. “there we are.”

you smile at him, and he smiles back. it’s mystical how the desert air tousles his dusty blonde hair, scattered throughout with the messy aftermath of a long trek through what amounts to a wasteland. maybe it’s the wine that makes you say what you say next, though in the annals of your own experience, you will always know that this question has been on your heart long before this moment.

“you never talk about what happened in kabul, when you disappeared before six,” you finally manage. “you lost contact for two years. you could have been gone for way longer—it would have been easier, too. no courts, no trials, no questions. why’d you come back?”

he pauses. maverick’s so used to listening, so shy of talking. his mind is a fortress you’ve thus far failed to crack, but as you see the wheels turning in his head, you finally feel the seals on the edges of his identity begin to peel away.

“it’s easy to disappear if you put your mind to it,” he begins, slowly. “it’s harder to realize that you can’t kill every part of your old self. some part of you will always go back. I had people to help; to save.”

he exhales. “and sometimes… sometimes you need to become a ghost to understand how ghosts live.”

“and how do ghosts live?”

he smiles this time. the spark’s back in his firebrand eyes. “very carefully.”

you laugh with him, a melody in the stiff summer air. it’s only a moment though. reality sets in soon thereafter. “we should sleep,” you insinuate suddenly. “early morning tomorrow.”

his laugh fades. “yeah. yeah, we should head in,” maverick murmurs, gathering the wine bottle from the end table beside both of you. “I’ll take the floor.”

“no, you’re not,” you interject quite suddenly, standing from your chair. “we need to be on our best for this mission. you can’t get that if you’re sleeping on the floor.”

“I’ve slept in worse places,” maverick grumbles, already gathering his things in preparation to return to the hotel room from the balcony. “the damn floor’s nothin’.”

you reach out, arm moving faster than your mind can keep up with. you slot maverick’s wrist into your grip, and the ferocity with which you grab at him forces him to look back at you and address the fire in your eyes. “I’m serious, mav,” you insist. “either we both sleep on the bed, or neither of us do.”

he takes a moment, eyes meeting in the liminal space of an argument staked on the wellbeing of the other person. it’s an intense, passionate tryst of the eyes, one that maverick ends up losing. he breaks before you do, turning his head to force your eyes apart while his free hand moves to rub against the back of his neck. you can feel the blush cross his hands, and you know it touches his cheeks as well. “fuckin’ a,” he grumbles. “okay, okay. you win. don’t say I didn’t try though.”

you remove your hand, a self-satisfied smile replaces it. the sweet rush of victory, however, cannot extinguish the flame now ignited in your heart. “I’m nothing if not stubborn,” you call back as he turns to enter the bathroom.

“now I know,” he returns, his last reply before the two of you finally decide to turn in for the night.

and soon enough, the two of you are in the same bed, peering at each other from under half-lidded eyes in sheer darkness. you trace the curve of his brow, the touch of his nose, his lips with your eyes, and you notice he does too, albeit under the influence of far more sentimentality. you feel desperately close even on separate sides of the bed, and the heat generated from such close personage is enough to send sweat down your spine. the warmth grows ever brighter when maverick’s hand snakes forward. you melt into his palm as it cups your cheek. this is the most intimate and sentimental you’ve ever seen him.

“thank you,” he murmurs. “thank you for listening to me. for letting me talk.”

“anytime, maverick,” you stammer in response. “i think you should talk more.”

[r6shippingdelivery]

How would the spetz boys react to their SO that can’t sleep without a blankie/stuffie?

I'm gonna be honest, since I only ship the spetz boys with each other, even when I answer more general questions about how'd they act with their SO, I'm still modelling it after my ships for them. And for the life of me I can't imagine any of them unable to sleep unless they have a blankie/stuffie, sorry.

[wastedr00k]

montagne x reader ; limit - photosynthesis -

just like a plant, Giles grew. 

as his heart and body changed, so did his feelings towards everyone and he soon grew a ‘hero complex’ , thinking he has to protect everyone in the face of danger, everyone except you. as he grew, you shrank. the more the shined the duller you become. and yet, the more he took from you, the deeper your love for him.

as the scythe he carried grew heavier and larger, the smaller your wings span shrunk, the more feathers you lose.

but you didn’t mind, you were here to support him in the spotlight, not steal it from him. you didn’t mind that the feathers on your wings has long fallen off from the arguments and from his growth. it was almost comical, the way you used your own shine to nurture him at the cost of yourself, they’ll grow back anyway. it was what you owed him after all.

but it’s worth it right?

it was worth it watching him fall in love with someone else, to watch him go crawling back to him every time, to watch him turn away whenever she kissed another guy, to watch him destroy himself while you, oh foolish you, kept giving all that you have left. 

because he’ll come to his senses one day, right?

“you know what she’s doing, stop turning away from it Giles.” you yelled as he continued to run with all his might, in hopes that he’ll forget.

struggling to keep up with him, your hands always seem to be mere inches away from him. “Giles! please stop, you know that it isn’t worth it, she isn’t worth it!” 

halting in his steps, he turned around to face you with nothing but anger in his eyes, “she isn’t worth it? how dare you say that?” he thundered towards you, “you know who isn’t worth it? you!”

you stopped as your hands went up to clutch your chest in shock, tears already welling up in your eyes as your feathers started to sting again. but it didn’t matter to Giles, he was taking his anger out on you, ruthlessly.

“you did nothing for me my whole life!”

did he forget when you held him in your arms and wings as he cried for the whole night after finding out she slept with someone else for months behind his back?

it’s okay, he’s just stressed out

“you were never there for me in any way!”

did he forget when you watched with pride as he collected his graduation certificate, or that time when you pushed him out of the way of an on coming car, or when you took notes for him while he slept during his classes?

it’s okay, a little more and it’ll be over

“you were nothing but a burden to me in my whole damn life!”

were you a burden when you lend him a shoulder to cry on, when you gave him advice, when you told him that it was all going to be okay?

it’s okay, this will help him feel better

and finally, silence.

Giles’s chest heaved as he kept his brows knotted, fist clenched and teeth gritted and feet firmly planted into the ground. 

it was such a contrast to you, you who were floating above the ground, hands clutching each other, eyes widened with tears. your wings are now nothing but ashes, blackened from the venom that Giles spat at you.

as the both of you continued this silent stand off, you decided to back down, like you always do. with his scythe as your neck, you bowed in defeat, “i’m sorry, my dear.”

still fuming from his rage, still too prideful to lower his scythe and apologize, he turned away from you and continued to run, knowing he’ll have to make it up to you later with sweet lies, but for now, his own pride is still latching onto him. there’s no way he’ll bow to you now.

as you slowly recollected yourself, lifting your head to see him running further and further away from you, down a path of nothing but misery.

it was worth it watching him work himself half to death for a sliver of recognition, to patch him up whenever he came back bruised as the cuts dried on his skin, to watch as he hung more medals up on his walls. to watch him use himself as a human shield.

because that’s what makes him happy right?  

as you floated above his bed, you watched quietly as Giles opened up his acceptance letter to the **** , his smile couldn’t be wider as he turned to you and brought the letter up to your face.

“I made it! they’re accepting me!” he beamed at you and continued texting everyone he knows about the news.

“why must you chase this?”

“why shouldn’t I? I’ve been dreaming of this for my whole life! since i was a kid and when i had my first toy tank, I knew that this is something I’m willing to chase.” he quipped back to you, “can you just support me for once? this is me doing what I love like you’ve always told me to.”

as your brows furrowed, you floated down to keep your eyes level with his, “i only told you to love yourself, my dear Giles.” reaching out to hold his hands in yours, as another feather starts getting corrupted with ashes. 

“isn’t doing something I love a way of loving myself?” he shooed you away, like he always had, as his phone screen lit up with yet another person calling him to congratulate him.

“loving yourself? you call this loving yourself? you call sending yourself to war loving yourself? you’re not loving yourself, you’re loving the recognition, it’s not the same thing.” you muttered, hands softly touching the new scars on your wings, “i want to keep you safe, with me.”

just like a plant, he grew and just like a light source that couldn’t be keep powered forever, you became dimmer and dimmer.

“i don’t mind becoming dimmer, if it makes you shine brighter, my darling.”

[itsohh]

👌

[unbindingkerberos]

Night Visitor

Words: 779

Warning(s): None

Tags: @poisonedtruth @unpetitoiseau @children-of-epiales @chadillacboseman @linoleum-ice

Henry finds himself gazing upon the human city. The winged siren would often leave his domain to watch the city from afar. He had always wondered what they do there in their own cities and those winding towers. A long time ago, he could still remember what the human cities were like then: small, insignificant, dull. Now their towers were tall enough to pierce the skies, a pinnacle of human advancements. It fuels their desire and arrogance, wanting for more. Henry sneers as he stares at the drifting waste. 

Henry looks back at the object in hand, the metal called a "bullet." He remembers how he got it. He felt a disturbance in his waters some few weeks ago and flew to investigate. He was met with two groups of humans fighting amongst themselves and saw it as an opportunity to catch them off guard. Much to Henry's distaste however, the other group got away with their lives still intact. The tip of his talons tracing the engraved words.

R&D.

An idea pops in his mind.

--

With shifty eyes and cautious movements, Marius sneaks his way to the workshop. He had tried getting some sleep but the recommendations he received from Jordan and Elena couldn't wait for tomorrow. The thought had kept him painfully awake and he ultimately decided to work on it right now while the idea was still fresh. If a certain Frenchman had caught him in the act, Marius knows well he'd receive an earful. Finally, he had arrived and his hand hovered on the doorknob when he noticed that the door was halfway open, the darkness of the workshop peering into view. The German quirks a brow. Did someone come in and forgot to close the door? He could think of some possible culprits but he was sure that they were fast asleep. Or it's about time we have the hinges checked. Marius pushes the door open and turns to flick the lights on.

But he never does.

Amongst the scattered equipment and destroyed furniture, a large bird-like figure shuffled a drawer open. It had picked something up with its large, sharp talons that Marius knew well that it could tear him into shreds. Marius's eyes left the bird's hunched form and traveled to the large, gaping hole in a wall. Now despite his limited knowledge of birds, Marius knows full well that they weren't strong enough to break through a reinforced ceiling.

Perhaps he could continue the adjustments tomorrow.

He takes a step back but the creature lifts its head up, its body stiffens and feathers raised. The large bird slowly turns its head towards him and--

It has the face of a man and Marius feels his blood run cold.

The creature narrows its eyes and turns the rest of its form to Marius's direction. 

The German moves to run but his feet stand still. Gritting his teeth, he repeats the action but still his body won't budge. The creature's lips part, uttering something Marius couldn't quite hear. Was it-- no, was he doing this to him? Did he put a spell on him? It feels ridiculous thinking these sorts of questions but at this point logic is seemingly thrown out the window. The man-faced bird is approaching him now, talons scraping against the floor. He again makes an attempt to move, to run, to act, hell even twitch but his form continues to defy him. The scraping stops. Wings spread to devour him and glowing yellow eyes stare up to his gaze all the while continue to mutter. Now that the creature was close, Marius could hear something now. Something faint.

Marius squints his eyes, trying to decipher whatever the creature was saying. A haunting and otherworldly melody blesses his ears. The creature was singing, Marius realized. His ears have never been graced with such a symphony. It was as if the ocean itself was singing to him. It was so--

"Beautiful."

The creature stops and steps back, baffled. "What?" Marius feels his body slowly regain control and nearly stumbles to the floor. Stepping away and back hitting against the wall, the creature puffs his feathers and raises his wings to the ceiling. The human face looked distraught, confused. "How dare you humiliate me." He sends Marius flying to the ground with a crack of his wings.

By the time he looks up the creature was long gone.

--

Beautiful.

That word was now wedged to his memory. Henry felt a disgusting warmth in his chest and shook it off, huffing. How dare that human make him feel… like this? 

When he meets that human again Henry will make sure he'll pay.

[deadghosy]

HAZBIN HOTEL X ROBLOX NOOB! READER

prompt: your best friend John Doe hacked you into a universe where hell is much different in your mind

“OOF-” you said as you press the buttons on your ps5. A portal opens as blocky person with yellow skin exits out of the portal looking at you. “JD!” You said with a “:P” face. “noob…you get to get out the house more…” John Doe said with a static voice as he picked up your bloxy body and thrown you into a portal as you kept smiling

“:) yay I’m falling.” You said out loud as you felt yourself fall in the air. You fell but landed on your feet like always. You look around to see that it smell like must, ass, and most importantly fire. You walked around just smiling as demons and sinners looked as if you were some weirdo…..

You came across the hotel and applied for a job to be the schedule manager. You got a red outfit to match vaggie and Charlie as you grab a flat board and started to write who gets to do what.

Noob! Reader is the type to pull out a cannon out of fucking no where and fuck someone’s life up🦆(a/n: pinkie pie type shit)

I can see Alastor watching you do a r6 dance as he just looked at you weirdly with a strained smile. You literally said out loud “/E DANCE!” And started to dance 😭

Lucifer got scared because he accidentally let you dove off a roof…but you respawned with a blue force field around you making Lucifer think you were an angel.

You love the egg boiz as they love you too! You do color sheets with them as Pentious brings you guys some cookies like a mom💗

You had onetime pulled a chainsaw out because husk said he needed to get a haircut on his fur. You literally pullled it out of no while husk jolted looking at your crazed face as you reved it up.

“You said you needed a hair cut!!” “I SAID HAIR CUT! NOT END MY LIFE YOU FUCKER!” Husk yells back as you chase him smiling like “:D” with the chainsaw. It was giving scooby doo as you kept chasing him.

Lucifer would be weirded out with Noob as noob just sticks their tongue out like the :P face while Lucifer pokes you curious about your game like box body.

I imagine noob! Reader showing Charlie a picture of bacon hair boy who is doing orange justice in the back. “Oh is that your friend?” Charlie says with a nervous smile at how your friend’s hair literally looks like bacon or is. You nodded excitedly as you wave your phone happily at bacon hair boy.

You blasted “it’s raining tacos” outside of the Vee’s tower when learning your friends had opps in there. So you wanted to annoy them.

This lasted for 2 days until vaggie had found you and took you home as you screamed out the song LOUD AND PROUD

I can imagine Lucifer making you a duck hat that says “don’t duck with me!” It’s so cute 🦆

I headcannon noob!reader to be the most dangerous being in hell as they literally been to every other gun and fighting game of the roblox universe.

NOOB SOLOS‼️‼️🔥

You know those badass Roblox games with those cool combat moves? That’s what you use. 🤨

You grabbed a sinner’s face and run dragging their body in the ground with a smile. You lifted your arm and swing them around as they flew to who knows where as the crew behind you had an either shocked or entertained face.

One time Charlie and you were shopping in a mall and you peaked over the boarder to keep people from falling. “I wonder if I can die from this height.” “NOOB NO-” that’s when you had to get a kid leash on you anytime you go out with the staff.

It was a nice day as Angel was throwing knives to increase his skills. You walked by him curiously grabbing two knives and throwing them at the same time. Making it hit the bullseye as Angel looked at you shock.

“Whoa kid, how did you learn to do that?” Angel asked pulling out the knives you made in the bullseye. “I was murder once!” You said with a happy smile as you walked away. Angel dust has the most confused face ever(picture below)

I headcannon noob!reader to be like Kirby. So like noob pulls out a knife to be murder, and then they could pull out a gun as Sheriff✨🦆

“Pew pew pew” you said as you stood on the balcony of the hotel as you shot at random sinners. Alastor appeared behind you confused but laughs at the misery of the sinner running when a missed shot almost killed them.

One time Angel gave you a Tommy gun not suspecting you know how to use it….you literally started to blast sinners away-

You SHOT AN OLD LADY ALSO😨

yeah Angel never gave you his Tommy gun ever again.

As you stayed in hell, you didn’t know that you would be spied on by the angels as Adam laughs at how chaotic and naive you are.

You’re so use to bullshit in Roblox you just stand there like “🧍🏾” as shit goes on. Literally when Charlie was panicking when the extermination was due in 6 months

During a uno game you ate a card as husk was trying to win but forfeited in anger as you screamed out uno. Leaving the missing card out of your mouth….it got quiet so quick as husk chased after you.

Niffty finds you amazing as you both have crazed tendencies. You both literally cause made chaos around places 🤭

YOU USE YOUR ADOPT ME SCAMMING SKILLS TO SCAM PEOPLE 😭😭 I CAN SEE THIS

The overlords are confused when they see Lucifer bring you to a meeting for once. You just sat there eating a taco. “Ello.” You said waving your blocky arm at them.

When watching the horror movies with the crew, you don’t react at all with Alastor as you been in lots of horror games with that one guy named Guest…you miss home and him.

I headcannon that you once accidentally summoned John Doe because you sneezed and he literally stood there as you hugged him. The rest of the crew was confused thinking he was your brother.

[wastedr00k]

“private but never a secret” - SAS

- in which they make your private relationship feel like a secret -

genre: angst

bad liar - imagine dragons

───── ❝  ❞ ─────

Mute /  Mark R. Chandar

mark oh, mark. why must you hold your tongue so much? when will you see that it’s not your personality that makes others avoid you, but rather, it’s your unwillingness to open up.

everyone knew that Mark was a man of few words, that is on the rare occasions that he chooses to speak, short and concise replies. and that’s one of the qualities that you loved him for, even without words, Mark never fails to show you the untouchable spot that you hold in his heart and his loyalty to you was never questioned.

but some days, you wished that he uses his words instead. some days where everything is a blur, where everyone’s action doesn’t seem to reach your hazy mind, some days where the world seems to be against you and only you.

on the days where you reached for his hands or even his pinky in silence, only for him to push it away as everyone continued chatting in the canteen and gave you a side eye of disapproval. when you leaned on his shoulder after a particularly tiring mission, only for him to jerk his shoulders up and lightly shook his head as he kept his gaze forward.

you understood, you really did. being in the military, love wasn’t frowned upon but everyone knew the baggage that love would bring, you knew that love would only complicate things on the battlefield and get in the way of operations. but was it so hard for Mark to give you even a little reassurance, if everyone was okay with it, why wasn’t he? 

so as you watched everyone pick names from the cup for this ‘7 minutes in heaven’ challenge, fear started to fester in your heart, what if Mark picked another name that isn’t yours? would he reject and let everyone know about the two of you, or go with it. 

everyone knew what this challenge was, pick a random piece of paper, read the name on it, get into the room for 7 minutes and whatever happens in there, stays in that room and between the two.

“oi mate, who did cha’ get?” Porter asked as he nudged Mark’s shoulder, peering over to see the name written on the tiny piece of paper, “i’m hoping ta’ get **, i’ve been wanting ta’ ask them out for so darn long.”

you watched as Mark slowly opened the paper and Porter’s reaction anything but reassuring, and as the chemical engineer started to nudge Mark and started to bounce in his spot and chanting, “no way, no fuckin way mate!” .

Mark shook his head and folded the paper, then looking down at his phone.

“alright guys! let’s start with ** , who you got?” Grace beamed as she turned to the person on her right as they looked up slowly then your partner’s name left their mouth.

everyone hoots and yells filled the room, as you watched your partner stood up. maybe it was wishful thinking on your end to think that Mark would announce to everyone that the both of you were dating. but your heart dropped as he looked towards them and nodded silently. there was no way you could stay quiet this time and let this slide.

“Mark.” 

your voice made everyone quiet down, their curiosity peaked.

“you’re going through with this, this game?” you asked, hands slightly balled up.

he stood and looked at you, quietly as usual.

“i wasn't planning on doing anything.” as usual, short replies and straight to the point, only this time you couldn’t tell if he was being honest.

you could only stare at him, speechless. did he really think that going though with it and no doing anything was a better option that just letting everyone know?

Porter watched as the pieces began to click in his head, “the both of you together or somethin' ?”

now, more than ever, you wished Mark used his words instead. but he stood quiet, just standing there as he always does.

** spoke up as they felt the tension between the two of you, “hey... let’s move on to the next person alright?” as they slowly made their way back to their seat.

“no.” you whispered, “no, its fine,” louder this time, “if this is how Mark wants to be, then so be it.” you aired as you turn your gaze to Mark who was still rooted in the same spot, 

“have fun doing nothing in that room.”

as you made your way out of the room, Mark never head footstep so loud and for the first time in his life,

he wished he said something. 

this is the sound of walking away.

───── ❝  ❞ ─────

Sledge /  Seamus Cowden

seamus oh, seamus. why must you always be the life of the party? there’s nothing wrong with being a wallflower. when will you see that it’s okay to lay low and be the one laughing at jokes and not be the one telling it.

true to the opening that Elena wrote in his biography, “coming through!” would be enough to describe Seamus. his kindness and loud personality is what makes Seamus uniquely him. there isn’t a single person in the base that hasn’t heard his voice, everyone knew who Seamus Cowden is, the life of the party, the hammer in Rainbow. always the one to break out, create a path for others to take, the one to lead the way.

and tonight, it was truly the time for his personality to shine. Harry held a celebration, a party if you would call it that, after the victory that Team Rainbow clutched, a warm get together is only right. not to mention the new blood and talent that Harry recruited, this was a good opportunity for them to integrate themselves and get to know their future teammates.

Seamus, being himself. was the life of the party, ushering in new operators and familiar faces. shaking hands and heartfelt hugs to everyone and you were no exclusion. 

hugging you tightly against his chest, he gave you a soft kiss on the top of your head, “darlin, i’ll be right with you, tonight is going to be so fun! i would love to spend the night with you but there are VIPs and new faces that i have to bring in.” and just like that, you felt his warmth leave your body as he made his way though the crowd and soon your eyes lost track of him among the people.

the night went on even without Seamus by your side but the company that your fellow operators gave you was enough. but the longer you pushed into the night, the louder the crowd seemed to be and the more you longed for the safety of your partner’s arms.

but whenever you managed to find him among the crowd, the same excuse would always leave his mouth.

“i’d love to keep your company but i have some things to settle, i’ll be right with you okay?”

and just like that, you’re on your own. 

here’s the thing about Seamus, he’d rather have the spotlight alone than be around others in the audience. there’s nothing wrong with that, but when you wanted his company, he’d rather run around and keep others warm and welcomed than you.

and right now, you’re trying your best to persuade him to not do this stand up set and come relax with you for the night.

“babe, listen i promised Harry that i would, and plus i already have the materials ready!” he replied as he kept his eyes on the cars in his hands, “and no one knows about us, it’ll be weird for me to be all up on you.”

and you’d be lying if you said that his statement didn’t hurt you.

“then let’s use this time to let everyone know, i don’t like this hiding game we’re playing,” you pleaded with him, the tiredness of the night starting to settle in, “and wouldn’t Porter and Craig also be having their own sets tonight? i’m sure Harry wouldn’t mind if you sat this one out.”

“ we talked about this before.’ he gritted through his teeth, “i’ll be with you when this night ends okay. i gotta make everyone feel at home.” he sighed. 

and just on time, Harry called his name from the stage, “it’s my time to shine, see you later.” 

and without waiting for your response, he left and took his solo spotlight on the small stage.

retreating to your spot among the audience, you dropped down onto the seat in defeat, looking up at Seamus, it almost seemed like it’s a little too lonely on the stage.

his words and jokes were all a blur to you, all you knew is that if he’s going to choose everything over you, then so be it. 

standing up to leave for the night, and uber already booked. you spared one last look at Seamus, who still was soaking in the glow of the spotlight before leaving the chalet. this is defeat for you, he can have the spotlight alone.

Seamus watched from his peripheral version, and he couldn’t ignore the clenching of his heart. he knew what he said was wrong but in his mind, the show must go on.

and finally he knew the meaning of what you would always tell him,

the bottom is lonely, and so is the top.

───── ❝  ❞ ─────

smoke /  James Porter

james oh, james. why must you be so reckless? being cautious is never a bad thing, it’s okay to have a plan, life isn’t always meant to be filled with surprises. when will you see that a little thought, planning, thinking before talking will lead you further than reckless adventures ever will.

keeping your relationship a thing between the both of is something that the both of you agreed on. you both agreed that it was going to be a private thing, but never a secret, if someone were to ask the both of you agreed to tell.

it wasn’t a bad thing, but some days you wish that the two of you could just act like a normal and open couple and today was one such day. 

turning your head from the sounds of the clinic’s door slam open only to watch James limp into room while keeping his arm around Mark for support made your heart ache, but made your body move even faster as you rushed to your partner’s side.

“what happened?” you rushed, quickly holding James’s hands in yours as you examined his face then body for wounds as Mark slowly sat James down, looking up at him for an answer.

“he detonated a smoke canister, blocking his view from an oncoming R4C.” Mark explained, then looked at Santiago stood at the door who had his head down.

you nodded as you started to undress James to better access his wounds.

“you need to take better care of yourself.” you said, eyes on the wounds and mentally counting them.

“less talkin’, more fixing yeah?” James grunted, his arms going up to cover his eyes.

clicking your tongue, you began fixing your partner up, “i am your-”

“nurse, doctor. i get it.” James cut you off before you could finish your sentence as he looked around the room, hands waving you off and shutting his eyes once more, “whatever”. he knew that that wasn’t what you originally was going to say. 

“still being stubborn even with a gash this big?” you bit back at your partner, typical James.

continuing to sterilize his wounds, you looked around the room to see if the other operators are still there. yeap, Mark was sitting in silence, watching from the corner of the room while Santiago stayed leaned against the door, still thinking of an apology.

“James, please look after yourself more, i won’t always be around to patch you up.”

“there are other doctors and nurses here, you’re not the only one.” James groaned as he felt the alcohol start to sting into his skin.

maybe it was the pain or the frustration making him behave like this but either ways, you weren't going to let him speak to you like that.

 “well,” you grit as you applied more pressure to his wound, making him hiss in pain, “i wouldn’t talk to the person who’s treating you in that manner.”

here’s the thing about James, his bark is worse than his bite. always talking to cause the most damage as possible without thinking of the repercussions, he’ll deal with it when it comes. 

“you’re just a doctor to me, just do your job.”

the silence that followed brought tension along with it, your movement stopped as you turned to look at your partner who has a scowl on his face. you knew that he was just saying it in the moment and it was just his reckless behavior coming through, but it sure did hurt. plus, this wasn’t the first time he had snapped at you.

the rest of the patching up was done in silence, all the fight you had in you had left, as you’re going to do exactly what he asked you to. just do your job, since you’re just his doctor to him and not a lover that would bend backwards for him, a lover that would do anything for him, a lover that was his lover.

placing down the bandage, you took off your gloves and turned away from James as you wrote his prescription form,

“bring this to the pharmacy, they’ll dispense the necessary medication to you. take care.” you stated as you passed the form to him.

and for once, James could feel the coldness coming from you. every time in the past where he snapped at you, you would just let it slide, using his personality as an excuse. letting him weasel his way back to you with sweet nothings and little punishment but this time was different.

“come on James, let’s go. i’ll let you use me as a crutch.”  Santiago joked, trying to lighten the mood.

but James shook his head, “i think i got an std, i’m gonna use this opportunity to get it checked out.” as he turned to you, “privacy please.”

Mark just nodded and stood up to leave while Santiago was trying his best to hold in his laughter, “ppft ,sure thing man. could have told me this before i let you tap it last week.” and quickly making his way out before James could give him a good smack.

ignoring the banter, you continued your work at your station.

“love, i’m in pain. could i get some extra tender loving care?” James whimpered as he limped to your side.

but the response he got anything but tender.

“don’t call me that and it would be out of the scope of my duty as a doctor to do that.” you stated, standing up to leave the room, “but if you feel like the steel surgery bed gives you what you need, be my guest to sleep on it.”

before you left the room, leaving James on his own, you spoke once more with your back faced towards him,

“i’m just your doctor, i’m just here to do my job.” 

as James stood alone in the room, he started to remember the moment where the both of you would hang out here, eating together and chatting while the both of you were still lovers, the room was nothing but home to him.

and now this room was nothing but a room to him. he never knew that he could find home in someone, sadly he had to learn this way.

the same recklessness of his that brought him so far could only carry him for so long before it turned on him.

───── ❝  ❞ ─────

thatcher /  Mike Baker

mike oh mike. why do you always hold grudges? people do us wrong and sometimes, they never meant to do so, even if they did, it isn’t always your job to even the playing field and get even with them. when will you see that the grudges that you’re holding onto is only hold you down.

one thing that was clear to everyone about Mike was that he held grudges. no matter how far away from the future it was or how small it was, Mike had to get even. being born from a place of expectations where his real dreams were stripped away from him at a young age, he knew nothing but grudges against those who made him where he is today. 

however, the grudges he carry also played a part in landing him the position he is today, highly respected and even envied by many. Mike is able to channel his anger to make it work for him and to those who have wronged him or anyone he loves.

but it doesn’t always work in his favor, this is where his grudge becomes a double edged sword, his habit does not discriminate. despite his love for you, you’re not spared against it.

“Mike!” you yelled as you chased after your partner after the stunt he just pulled, and when you finally catch up to him, you yanked him by his sleeve to make him face you.

“hands off,” Mike ruffed as he shrugged your hold off of him, “what do you want from me?”

baffled by his response, you furrowed your brows, “what do i want from you? i want you to explain what the hell you just said just now!”

Mike just started to straightened his sleeve, “i meant it when i said that having you on my team is a terrible decision.” without looking back at you, he stretched his back and arms before continuing his sentence, “and i’m not apologizing for not telling anyone that we’re together.”

“what’s so wrong with letting others know about us?” you gasped, “why do i always have to be kept as a secret?”

keeping his silence, Mike just turned away and started to walk away from you, “and you started it first.”

now he's really pushing it too far, as you wreck your brain for a possible reason that 'you started it' , thinking back on the times where you perhaps had stepped on his tail, be it knowingly or unknowingly.

"Mike! is it the time where I called you old fashioned in front of your friends?"

when he kept his silence and gaze forwards but stopped in his tracks, you knew you had hit the nail square on the head.

"that was so long ago! and I have already apologised for it mulitple times!" you stated as you walked in front of him to face him, "but if you want me to apologise again, I will. I'm sorry Mike, it was really rude of me to say that and embarass you like that in front of your friends."

taking his hands in yours, you hoped that it was enough to get through to your partner and his nature.

"fine." he grumbled as he pushed your hands off his and continued to walk back to the canteen, "I'm tired, let me go and rest."

as he walked further and further, leaving you behind, still rooted into the ground,

"I said I'm sorry Mike!", hoping that he'll turn around and take you along with him.

he just nodded and waved you off.

even though he had got more apologies than needed from you and the score had already been more than settled, and he won.

yet the same weight still weighs his heart down. the weight of holding a grudge way past it's expiry date, this is the loneliness only he knows, the loneliness only he can get rid of.

he won the battle but lost the war, the battle being his pride and grudges, and the war?

you.

[hispg]

Safe haven

Pairings: Leon x Reader

Wc:4.0k

Summary: How Leon deals with his ptsd over the years.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, depressive thoughts, suicidal intent, Leon hating himself.

An: This one follows the cannon order, so it starts with r2 Leon, r4, r6, vendetta, ends with Death Island.

Denial

Since Leon returned from Raccoon City, nothing has been the same. You've seen the man you knew die day after day, his personality changing like water to wine. And he knew it, he knew it better than anyone.

You still remember perfectly when he arrived, covered in blood, with a bandage on his arm, a face with the most terrified expression you could imagine.

The horrors he had witnessed in that place were simply out of this world. What should have been a simple first day at work turned into a living hell. There were things he wouldn't erase from his memory, the way he had to kill all his co-workers, the way he saw everyone around him die. He felt bad, guilty, even though he had no control over it.

It was a lot for one person, a lot for him to process.

A night that would mark him for the rest of his life.

In order not to involve you too much in the subject, he never went into too much detail, just briefly saying something or other. But you could imagine, the way his fear was clear on his face, his lips trembling every time he tried to talk to you about what had happened.

You saw the way he woke up every night, covered in a layer of sweat, whimpering and almost screaming in his room. He never slept properly, always woke up in a state of sheer panic, and it only got worse as time went on. It wasn't something he could control, not even he himself could believe that he had come out of that nightmare alive.

And he often wished he hadn't.

All he forced himself to believe was that it would be something momentary, an event that he would forget or at least get better with the passage of time.

But it didn't.

He beat himself up every day, unable to forget a single second of that night. He could have helped more, he could have done more, maybe he could have saved more people.

Deep down, he knew it was impossible. A simple situation where a hundred were sacrificed to save one.

There were days when he couldn't even leave the house, and he also begged you to stay with him. A panic attack that haunted him almost daily, he needed you to be there. At least he knew you would be safe by his side, and he needed you, as if you were the air he breathed.

All this was due to the fact that he couldn't cope on his own, if you didn't sleep next to him every night, he wouldn't even try to close his eyes. Because he knew he wouldn't be able to doze off for a single moment, not that he'd ever get a good night's sleep.

He often refused, refused to believe that it was real, refused to believe that it had ever happened. But every time he closed his eyes and heard the screams of agony echoing in his head, he remembered the painful reality.

It was almost customary for him to try to recover from everything he had experienced, to lift his face, wipe away the tears and force an expression from someone who was fine.

But you and he knew it was just a lie.

Everything took a turn for the worse when he was interrogated and basically forced to work for the government. It was a 'deal', he would work for the government in exchange for the little girl safety, a little girl called Sherry, who he found and saved in the middle of the chaos that night.

Although he didn't want to, he didn't think it was fair to let a girl as young as her suffer in a laboratory, maybe it was crazy to compromise his life for someone he barely knew. But that was him, the guy who put others before himself. So he accepted the 'agreement'.

He just wanted to be someone normal, to forget about that damn trauma, to forget about the pain of that night and to put all those events behind him.

But he couldn't, and maybe he wasn't ready for that fact.

The Leon of before no longer existed, maybe a small sketch left, but he would never be able to get back on his feet and be like before.

Never.

Anger

Leon's life began to turn upside down even more, after the hell that happened in Raccoon City, he was forced to go to military training, supposedly to serve the government. Even years after what happened, the night was still incredibly vivid in his mind. Every detail was stagnant in his memory, a mark he couldn't remove.

All he felt now was anger, all hidden in that sullen face that had become his usual expression. He hid behind it, hoping you wouldn't notice how cold and indifferent he was becoming. It was the only way to protect himself that he found.

And he hated that things were this way.

What he didn't expect was that he would become an agent working for the President. Everything that had already happened to him was enough, and he still seemed to be getting worse and worse.

Like a bottomless pit, he just fell lower and lower.

At this point he no longer cared about much, he was becoming more and more stressed with work and that damn training.

You lost count of how many times he came home scratched, bruised, with some part of his body purple. One time he even arrived with a broken rib, and he didn't even try to explain to you what had happened.

He just did his bandages silently, with your help. And he didn't even say a single word about it, and you worried like crazy. You didn't even know if he would arrive in one piece the next day.

It wasn't difficult to assimilate all the abuse he was suffering in that place, you had already heard a few times the way some of his training partners spoke to him on the phone. They weren't friendly at all.

All he did was hide what he felt with that sulky face, more and more you saw him becoming closed off. It was rare that he talked about his training, or his day.

Even he had become increasingly discreet about his nightmares, or even his anxiety attacks. He always thought he could handle it on his own, it was his problem. That he had learned to cope, or at least he thought he had.

Because it was the same story as always. Just a man doing what he hated, reliving the past and charting a hateful future.

And that couldn't be avoided.

And well, nothing got better when he was called to a mission in Spain, looking for the President's daughter. He didn't feel excited about the situation at all, he didn't even want to go. However, there wasn't much of an option.

He tried to warn you, in fact he didn't warn you, he just said he was going to Spain, just like that.

It wasn't hard to imagine that this caused a small fight between you, since he could at least tell you what it was about. But he didn't say.

"Don't pressure me, don't even try to look into things that's not your business." Leon hisses at you, turning his back and leaving you behind with tears in your eyes. All you heard after was the door slamming, and he disappeared for a few days.

Surely he knew the shit he had done, and every moment that passed he felt his heart tighten. His anxiety reaching its worst peaks. As he began to understand what was happening in that old village, he felt terror wash over him once again. The fear of not being able to return terrified him, he doesn't even know how he managed to stay upright in the face of all that.

He felt trapped in a nightmare again.

Another hell, he didn't even know that he would go through a situation similar to Raccoon City again, but to his displeasure it happened. Once again he doesn't know how he came out alive, he was terrified of witnessing death several times in a row. The only thing he thought about was going home, he needed a place to call home. And he needed you, in a way he couldn't put into words. So many words he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do, especially seeing more people around him die. After having done everything he did to survive.

He needed someone.

Everything he had planned to tell you went down the drain as soon as he got home, the first thing he saw was you lying on the sofa, wearing one of his shirts.

It didn't take long for him to take off his boots, and walk towards you, he was shabby, a complete mess. It was no surprise.

He gently gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek, so as not to wake you, and sat down on the floor next to you. He intended to spend the night there, as he certainly wouldn't be able to sleep no matter how hard he tried.

With his fists clenched, his face set, a strange feeling running through his body. Once again he felt like it was a tantrum, but it wasn't.

A single tear wet his cheeks, followed by several others.

And then he realized, the reality of the facts caught up with him.

And the terrifying feeling returned.

Understanding

A few more painful years passed, and it was indeed optimistic to say that things had improved. It was as if everything was exhausting, he couldn't have fun with the things he liked.

As if his life was in a loop where he couldn't stop, he couldn't get out of it. It just kept going again and again, it shouldn't be like this.

But was.

It wasn't hard to notice how grumpy he had become. He was no longer someone of many words, and now he was even more closed off. If it was possible.

The grown beard that only showed how disinterested he was in his own appearance. He was at a point where he barely looked at himself in the mirror, his dark blond strands falling down his face. And he didn't even bother to trim his hair and leave it the way he liked it.

He didn't even look in the mirror, he hated every time he saw his own reflection. He learned to hate every one of his scars, every mark that remained from his missions, he hated with all of his heart. It was an otherworldly aversion, he shouldn't feel this way about himself, but that didn't matter. Not now.

He learned to hate himself.

He hated the way that even after all these years his traumas still haunted him, the way he still had those terrible nightmares. He hated the way he treated you, so cold and distant.

So different from what he once was.

Since it all started in Raccoon City, he always knew that the part of the soul he lost there he would never recover. But he didn't imagine things would be this bad.

It was as if no moment was good, as if everything revolved around his work and the problems that came with it. He became such a focused person that he would sometimes go days without showering, with his hair all messy and his face completely tired. From someone who hadn't had rest in days. And that person was exactly him.

He would often make minimal effort to talk to you, try to start a conversation and tell you how his day was going. But who said he could? The poor man got so used to keeping things to himself that sharing it was complicated.

The words tumbled in his mouth, he couldn't form a sentence that made any sense and didn't sound desperate. But he failed as soon as he said the first word, and just ended up changing the subject.

Therefore, he learned that nothing would be the same as before, even after all these years in which he hoped that things would change, for the better. But to his chagrin this didn't happen, and everything went downhill.

He tried his best to come to terms with all of this, since he was already someone who had seen a lot, and had already done a lot as well. But that didn't stop him from feeling bad, from feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

And it wasn't?

At that point he ignored what he felt, if he was called to a mission he would simply go, even though he was extremely upset about the matter. Because in those moments he realized that he was just an object of the government.

A powerful weapon that was capable of stopping the crap that happened here or there, and that was it. Just it.

Nothing more than a weapon.

What else could he expect? The turn things took only made the government's intentions clear, and he didn't approve at all. He was always against it, but who said he was listened to?

He had already accepted this, a cruel fate from which he had little option of escaping. He had already dealt with it.

He forced himself to believe those words.

All he could do was hate himself more and more, every time he came home tired and saw you, his heart broke.

How did he still have you by his side? How the hell was such a sweet person still willing to stay by his side. It wasn't fair.

He deserved to be alone.

Day after day he found himself looking for things to get rid of the bitterness that his life had become, what he found was drinking.

One of the few things that let him breathe, even if just for a few hours. It started slowly, but he needed to increase it.

It was an obligation, it was either that or get home and feel like the worst person in the world. This addiction started slowly, in a subtle way.

However, it then got out of control, and once again he found himself in his worst state.

"There's no turning back.." A whisper coming from him, drunk and completely out of his mind.

His life was a dead end, and he had no hope that it would get better.

Another day of remorse, another day living in his shoes.

Depression

The only consolation he found now was drinking, at least it helped the pain go away for a moment. Even though at some point he had to increase the doses more and more, he needed it to take effect.

If at any point he had tried to have some closeness with you back, that had ended in the last few months. He couldn't even take care of himself, let alone take care of you.

He was a different man, and not in a good way.

At that point he already accepted that he had lost himself, that he no longer had salvation, his mind was torturing him.

It was suffering just to be alive.

The fact that he always lost people around him, that he had to kill his own team because he wasn't able to save them. How the hell was he supposed to survive with this? How could he say everything was fine?

Everything around him was dying, like he had a curse around him or something. Not even he wanted to understand this. The weight of the years he lived in this torture was catching up to him.

And nothing could be done, once again.

The nightmares, the weight on his conscience, the memory of each of the missions. It was an unhealthy cycle he was trapped in.

Certainly an addiction wouldn't solve the situation, but what would? Pay nicely as always? Hold his head up and follow orders like a puppy?

"Piece of shit." That's what he mutters when he sees himself in the reflection of his cell phone, disappointed with the way everything is happening. How he was dealing with all of this. His appearance was different, hair more swept to the side, a longer beard. Clothes that not even he knew he would wear at some point.

But what would be the other way? How?

Disappointment, anger, depression, all mixed up in his head. He didn't know what he should do with these bottled up feelings that were haunting him day after day.

All the missions, all the people he lost, everything he experienced. How could someone go through so much like that?

How could he have gone through this and still somehow moved on?

This time he didn't even bother trying to hide from you the displeasure he had created for life, he rarely spent time at home, and when he did it was all day grumbling or drinking.

A great guilt invaded him when you cried because nothing you tried to do seemed to help, but this wasn't about you.

It was about him.

His mood only worsened when Chris called him to another mission, actually it wasn't really a call, more like a statement that he was going to another mission.

This was his life for the last few years, mission after mission, without even a moment for himself, not that he was going to do anything other than drink in the meantime.

What could have happened special this time? Another mission where he comes close to death several times, where he simply doesn't know if he'll return home in one piece. And he could swear he didn't care about it or not.

At least he thought so.

But perhaps the fact of working with people close to him this time made him see that things could be worth it again. Although it wasn't the friendliest place to think this, he couldn't deny that it gave him some comfort since he worked with people he knew, especially Chris, who was one of the few people he liked at work. Despite grumbling a lot.

He appreciated the fact that things ended well this time, for the first time in a long time.

There was still a little light in the good things, in the little daily things. Sometimes things didn't always have a bad ending.

The people around him wouldn't always fade away or betray him, that wouldn't always be the course of things.

Maybe now he was ready to start improving a little, maybe yes, maybe no. He would only know if he tried.

Once the madness of the mission was over, all he could think about was you, he could only think about seeing you one more time after everything that had happened. It was a desire so big that it couldn't fit in his chest.

You can bet he was counting the minutes until he got home, he needed to feel your presence again. He needed to know that he had people who were there for him.

He needed your comfort, your reassurance.

Once he got home the first thing he did was look for you, it was more than a desire, it was a need.

Without you even realizing it, you see him leaning against the kitchen counter, with an almost unremarkable smile. You even surprise yourself, since it had been a good few months since you had seen even a trace of a happy expression on his face.

"I'm back.." He says in a whisper, looking at you gently for the first time in a while.

You look at him a little hesitantly, wanting to give him a hug, not knowing if he wanted that or not.

A simple gesture but one that made your day, he opened his arms to you, waiting for you to do what you wanted.

Without a shadow of a doubt he needed this as much as you did.

Maybe there's still a way out. Maybe there is still a way.

Acceptance

Leon was trying, he was trying his best to be a better man. You could tell that, the way he was cutting back on alcohol, the way he was trying to be more attentive to you.

These little things indicated an effort on his part, he didn't want to hate himself anymore, he didn't want to feel so indifferent anymore. Maybe it was time for a change, he didn't need to be like this anymore.

He had people he could count on, and after all, he had you. That even after his coldness in recent years, you never left him, it was time to reciprocate.

And of course there were things he couldn't let go of so easily, especially his problems with trauma, and he already knew that it was a weight he would carry for the rest of his life.

He would never forget.

But he was also trying to learn not to be like that anymore, things could still have a good side. He could still have hope, even if it was a mere drop. Life had been hard on him from the beginning, but he needed to find some motivation. He couldn't live regretting forever, putting himself down every time.

It was time to rise again, time to pick up the pieces and rebuild. Little by little, and of course he would never be the same as before. But he could be a better person, and he would do everything he could to make that happen. You could notice this drastic change even more, since he came back from the last mission, he was different. So proof is that, as soon as he got home he hugged you, and spent a good ten minutes like that.

Probably feeling overwhelmed with yet another mission, duties that seemed to never end. But he wouldn't think about that now.

He wanted to try to be happy. At least one attempt.

Small efforts, for example trying to open up to you, saying few things, but it was a great start. He knew that if he continued like this he would be able to share his problems with you, it certainly wouldn't weigh so much on him if he could share them with you.

His mind was still a mess, but he was trying to organize himself, put his thoughts in order. It was a long and difficult road, but he wanted to bet that he would make it.

It was the glimmer of hope he had.

Leon now went out with you, took you for rides on his motorbike. He begins to realize that life could go beyond work, that not everything needs to be so bad.

You could see him smiling more, he had even gone back to making those corny jokes that never failed to make you laugh. Most importantly, he seemed content, sometimes even at peace with himself.

The desire he had to disappear, little by little was fading, and he began to gain a little more zest for life. Things wouldn't always go wrong, and he could relax a little, even try to let his guard down whenever possible.

Even once you caught him laughing like a fool on his cell phone, only to see him having fun watching a video of a dog, which in his eyes was incredibly funny.

Seeing this, you decide to give him a pet on his birthday. And you almost cried once you saw the joy in his eyes, that sparkle in his eyes that you missed so much.

"I love you." A shy and low voice, accompanied by the most beautiful smile you've ever seen. How long has it been since you last heard this? The sweet way the phrase slid across his lips. A moment so subtle but so sweet, and one that you hoped would be repeated more and more.

Life was worth it, he would make it worth it again.

[frogchiro]

I hear it is time to spread the word of our lord and savior Tachanka? 👀

link: (https://rainbowsix.fandom.com/wiki/Tachanka_(Siege) Context of link: Just the wiki page of R6 operator Tachanka.

But I wanna highlight a few things!!!

Alexsandr Senaviev was born on November 3rd in Leningrad, Russia to a military family. At the age of eighteen, Senaviev was conscripted into military service just as the Soviet Union was ending its operations in Afghanistan. Upon the dissolution of his draft, Senaviev opted to enlist full time. He was part of the wrestling league, where his formidable frame and match strategy earned him accolades. 

Alexsandr Senaviev has a boisterous sense of humor with a booming laugh. He can be quite blunt, but without the intent to offend

Senaviev's younger sister is a doctor and our discussion had barely started when he was showing me pictures of her in her doctor's smock, along with a dozen more photos of his nieces and nephews and his own kids. […] He and his sister grew up in a strict household without many things, which is why he makes a great effort to enjoy life. They both make sure that their kids are loved and raised with laughter. At the same time, he doesn't like to buy or accumulate physical objects and emphasizes this with his children, much to their consternation. I suspect that's also partly to do with his divorce. […]

(Also the main reason why we refer to Tachanka as 'lord'/godly is mainly 'cause his weapons/loadout is shit.)

Ladies and gentlemen, we got ourselves a REAL LIFE DILF <33

From what I gathered on his wiki he has at least two children, one of them a son and an ex-wife! Also him being an ex wrestler because of his size and strength...

Imagine being a babysitter for his kids, a 6 year old boy and a sweet 3 year old girl who absolutely adore their nanny who spends the majority of their time with them since their father is still a busy man and their mother is using her newfound freedom as a divorced woman so you're babysitting the little ones for a hefty sum from their dad whenever you're free from college.

But you have to admit, while the kids are literal angels and a delight to babysit, they nor the money are the sole reason for you being so eager to babysit and their father, Alexsandr, played a huge part in it too.

He was so large and heavily build, no doubt from his years in the military but his charming, boisterous attitude combined with his broad, toothy grin that almost seemed boyish on his mature face was what really made you fall for him :(( Whenever the kids were playing or napping, you two had a little time with each other to just talk and spend time together, get to know each other better because 'Let's not make this one of those stick-in-the-ass rigid employer-employee relationships, yes?' as Alexsandr put it himself.

The connection between you deepened but you were still so shy under his clear blue eyes :(( You couldn't possibly do the first move, what if he doesn't return your feelings? He's much older than you, he has a military career, two kids and a divorce, surely he wouldn't ever be interested in someone like you...right?

Ofc little did you know that Alexsandr was tugging his lengthy, heavy cock every night after sending you off with a thick wad of cash and a loud, happy thank you for taking care of his kids, though in reality he was everything but happy :(( Like it or not but the burly male fell for you, the most cliche thing on earth, the young, sweet babysitter that visited him home almost every day to care for his little ones with a gentle smile towards them and him too, such a stark contrast from his ex wife...

He was cumming every night multiple times to the thought of you right here beside him, in his bed, all nice and naked, sated and warm after a night of passionate love making. He came on his hairy tummy with a displeased growl, once the post nut clarity set in and realized that he wasted so much precious seed when it could be inside you >:(

Alexsandr knew he had to have you, had to confess to you how he felt but didn't know how; his loud, charismatic attitude failing him for the first time in years but these thoughts were for the time being pushed back once again to the back of his mind. He could think of a better solution on how to win you over once he wasn't so terribly horny, testosterone clouding his mind as his heavy cock jumped to life once again, thick potent sperm oozing from his swollen tip and Alexsandr could only think about how well he could breed you, he was a real stud despite his age y'know? Plus he always wanted another kid anyway <33

[itsohh]

Proposing with the Spetsnaz’s

A/N: R6S is in a bad spot rn but at least the ops are still hot. Big thanks to my lovely beta lululandd who I would die for.

Warnings: None

Glaz

There was an anxious shift in your mind. One that had been like that the entire time you sat there. You were almost completely alone, the night sky shining a million diamonds above while you had curled up by the window. There was a little window seat that you always loved to read at, it was a peaceful little spot in your lover's apartment. What was different about this time was the fact that he sat parallel to you. 

In front of him was a large canvas, one he had been working on for hours on end. It made you so anxious about your movements, so scared that you would interrupt and change his view if you moved. At first, when he brought it out, you had gone to move but he had insisted on you staying there. He’d even brought you a warm drink to coax you to stay there- even a blanket. 

“Relax, if you were in my way I would have asked you to move two hours ago.” He placed down the brush and put it to the side. He stepped back, let out a breath and nodded. “But, doesn’t matter now. I’ve finished.”

“You’ve finished?” You cocked a brow, he was never usually that quick at painting and you couldn’t imagine a canvas that big would only take a few hours. His eyes flicked up with a smile and nodded.

“Ah, I’ve been working on it for a while now but finally got around to finishing it tonight.” There was a look in his eyes, one that you couldn’t quite place. Was there something off? Yet, he didn’t seem upset in any way. “Would you like to see?” At his question, you nodded and closed your book. You placed it to the side and sat up. Timur turned the stand around and the painting with it.

Your lips parted as you saw the entirety of the picture. It was far more zoomed out than you had originally thought. Instead of just the sky and buildings nearby, it was the direct view from where he stood. A frame of where you sat. Your head was turned towards the sky, while your book was open in your hands. The blanket covered your curled legs. “Timur…” Your breath hitched as you saw the night sky in the painting, it wasn’t the same as you spied outside. Instead, the stars spelt out ‘Marry me?’ Your head looked up and you made eye contact with you. “Do you mean it?”

“I wouldn’t have spent all this time painting it if I didn’t.” 

The blanket fell to the ground and you leapt to your feet. It took you a couple of seconds to get around the canvas but you stretched your arms out around him with a laugh and a smile. 

“Yes, Timur. Yes.” You pressed your hands against his face and leaned into him. The kiss you gave him was sweet. It was long and slow and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and pull you into his lap. When the pair of you parted it was only barely, you couldn’t contain the grin that consumed your entire face. 

“I didn’t even show you the ring.” He breathed while your forehead pressed against his.

“I didn’t need to see it to know my answer.”

Fuze

Light from the projected screen illuminated the room. You were rather cozied up next to Shuhrat, it wasn’t too often that the pair of you could go to the theatre without someone else joining you. How he had managed to pull it off remained unknown but you didn’t bother to ask into it. Sometimes things were better left unknown. In all honesty, you hadn’t been paying too much attention to the film. Instead, you were focused on the way you were snuggled against Shuhrat's arm. His hand had made its home on your knee where his thumb gently stroked. A blanket covered the pair of you while the movie continued all around you. 

“This movie is bad,” Shuhrat mumbled and you couldn’t help but laugh at his monotone voice. 

“You picked it.” You pointed out and his eyes turned to focus on you.

“I picked poorly.”

“Ah, not all of them can be winners. We can turn it off and put something else on if you like.”

“I don’t want to ruin you watching it.”

“I’m not gonna lie Shuhrat, I zoned out like half an hour ago.” He raised a brow at you and you shrugged. “I just like chilling with you. We’ll be back in the field tomorrow and it’s nice to have a calm before the storm.”

“You don’t like the storm?”

“Not recently with how many people we have lost to it recently.” You glanced away for a second. “She can be a cruel mistress but I don’t think I would trade it for the world. This is my place in the world and I’m happy with that. I think one day the storm will take me too but that's just part of life.” 

Shuhrat stared at you and you couldn’t help the heat that formed on your face. You cleared your throat and unlatched from his arm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get so morbid.”

“I have to ask you something.” His words demanded your attention and you turned to face him.

“What's up?”

“After last time I wasn’t sure I would ever want to ask this again but after some careful consideration, I think I am. You're by my side day after day, night after night and I want you covering my back for as long as you can.” His other hand escaped the blanket and you could see the small box in it that he opened with his thumb. There sat an engraved platinum ring. It didn’t have any rocks on it and was rather minimalistic, perfect for everyday use in your line of work. “Will you marry me?” He looked at you for your reaction. 

You covered your mouth with your hand. The car explosion on the projector went unnoticed as you silently nodded towards you. 

“I mean we already moved in together and everything I just thought you never wanted to actually like… get married.” You whispered. 

“I didn’t, not for a long time.”

“What changed your mind?” 

Shuhrat looked away from you at the question and you tilted your head to get a better look at him. “Something Timur said to me.”

“Timur? What did he say?”

“We were watching you take down Alexsandr and he said to me, ‘It seems fate really did have things in store for you when you broke off your engagement. I’m glad that you managed to find your one. Especially someone able to keep Alexsandr on his feet. Or the floor I suppose.’ He was right and I didn’t want to squander that.” He picked the ring from the box, took your hand from your face and slowly slipped the ring on. There was a warm smile on your face that was so extremely rare to see. Shuhrat brought your hand to his face and gently kissed just below the ring. 

Kapkan

Sleep had long since taken control of you. It wasn't your fault though, it had been a long day and an even longer drive. With the music at a low level and a comfortable silence between the pair of you, it was rather easy to slip into your dozed form. 

Maxim hadn't bothered to wake you, there was no reason to. Besides, he did like that relaxed face that spread across your face. It wasn't until he parked the car at the cabin and got settled did he go to disturb you. His attempt to pick you up without disrupting or waking you failed and soon you stirred from your sleep in his arms. 

He had made sure to open the door before he picked you up so it was easy for him to carry you. A yawn left your lips and you blinked away. "Go back to sleep. I'll look after you." 

You pressed your face into his chest slightly. "We're here?"

"Yeah, don't worry I'll sort everything out." 

"Mmm, you’re too nice to me." That had him chuckle slightly. It wasn't very often he was called nice. 

"I look after my own."

"Is that what I am?" 

"Hmm?"

"I'm yours?" You asked and he cocked a brow. 

"I had assumed so considering the nature of our relationship was I wrong?" He already knew the answer and exactly how you felt but humored your question regardless. You had piqued his interest. 

"Make it offical then. In writing."

"In writing?" 

You pressed your lips together and cleared your throat slightly. "I am formally asking you, Maxim Basuda, if you would like to marry me." Your voice had a slight joking tone. A performance tone. He chuckled and placed you on your side of the bed that he had already prepared before he got you. 

"I'm serious. I wanna get hitched. I don't really care too much about how we do it or where really. Fuck it we could get eloped if you wanna. But I wanna marry you, Maxim. Really badly." 

He stared down at you and then sat on the bed next to you. "How long have you thought about this?"

"A while, I've been waiting for you to ask for ages and finally got sick of waiting. Thought I'd bite the bullet and just ask, it wasn't hard to when I got to wake in your arms ." 

He turned away with a tsk. The man seemed a little amused but annoyed. "I've been trying to decide on a ring for a while now." He pulled out a box from the inside of his jacket and snapped it on the table next to you. "Everyone has ideas. Personally, rings don't matter that much to me but I can't deny I like having a piece of me with you." You picked up the box and flicked it open where inside was a  basic ring. It didn't have any customisation to it, completely uniform. It was rather dark and caught the small amount of light that streamed into the room from the hallway. 

"Jordan suggested it. It's tungsten. I was planning to ask you sometime during this trip but you beat me to it."

You twirled the metal ring on your finger. "You went around asking everyone?"

"First it started with Alexsandr considering he's been married before then it grew from there. It was quite interesting to see the way that they talked. A lot of them said what they would want and then there were a few debates on what you would like."

"How did you decide?"

"Jordan discussed the properties of the metal. I wanted something that would remind you of me."

"...Something that shatters under a lot of pressure? One of the hardest things out there?"

"I was going for practice." He gave you a playful glare and you slipped it on with a grin. "If you don't like it I can-"

"No! It's mine." You clutched your hand to your chest for a second and leaned towards him. "And so are you."

Tachanka

The wind whipped past your face as you sprinted. Gunfire continued all around you. What seemed like a marathon was only about twenty meters, maybe thirty. “Hey come on, don’t tell me you're tapping out this early.” Your voice was a jest, a concerned but lighthearted smile on your face as you helped him up off the ground. The metal table acted as perfect cover while he shook off the bullets to his plate. 

“Take a little more than that to keep me down.” He smiled with a groan and rolled his shoulders. You heard a decent popping crack from one and couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. He raised a brow and gathered his gun where he reloaded the mag. 

“Good, cooking duty wouldn’t be the same without you.” You peaked up from the table and your eyes went to the grenade that dropped just in front of it. Alexsandr started to rise and follow your lead just in time for you to snatch the strap on the front of his armor. His body moved with yours as you dived back down and dragged him along with you. “‘Nade!” The explosion went off only a second later and his eyes locked with yours. The pair of you stayed frozen, panting slightly. 

“Marry me.”

“What?” Your mind restarted at the words and he smirked.

“You hear me, I died once, it would be a tragedy to die again knowing I didn’t marry you so-” He placed his dirty hand against your face. “-Marry me.”

“You thought now, of all times, would be a good time to ask? Alex we are in a gunfight.”

“You don’t want to get married?”

“I…I do, of course I do… Fuck, I’m going to marry you and then kill you for asking right now I swear to god.” 

His face stretched out into a massive grin and he got off you and peaked the table. Alex turned back to face you as you got off the ground. Without hesitation, you felt his lips against yours. It was only for the quickest of seconds but it was enough for you to blink a few times and stutter to his booming laugh, only covered by the sound of gunfire.

“It would be worth it!”

[crustyfloor]

I'm itching to see how Till will be acting in round 7 (if we even get one). Till was in quite a state in r6, quiet, subdued, not his usual self y'know. Ivan died (he didn't) and if Ivan is still someone Till holds close to his heart as I theorize, and the fact that Mizi is gone, and the fact that he is even alive in the world of Alien stage just think how much worse his state of mind will be. I can only imagine him being worse than Mizi was in R5. Unresponsive, completely broken down and hopeless, not even Luka can snap him out of it enough to hit him or something, because at this point he's seriously sick of it so he won't fall for it anymore and he'll carve his own exit out of this hellhole,

but it'd also be fun if he went the exact opposite direction and snap and go back to his old self (like in R2) but even worse. Unresponsive, but in the way that he just doesn't listen, unapproachable, violent(?), and restraints galore. Luka himself might not even want to get close. Till would be so done with it all that he would either 'mad dog' his way to certain death or win the competition with the sheer intensity he'll give off (and maybe he'll scream in our ears once again this time)