#absolutely comm it if you have the ability!!

[drkcatt]

just got this chibi comm back from my friend and very awesome artist @ clawbound on twitter!!! minvaya and sweet little starbird 🥹🥹🥹

[jedi-starbird]

Alpha-17 and Obi-Wan being friends (derogatory) on 17's part and friends (threatening) on Obi-Wan's part is such an underrated dynamic

They could be so funny and terrifying, like Obi-Wan went through a soul shredding experience with Alpha-17 as his only company. They're friends because what else are you gonna be after you witness each other at absolute rock bottom from torture.

It's like 'dog put in cage of cheetah who's threatening to go crazy', except the dog is a grizzly bear and also threatening to go crazy.

Emotional support trooper except the trooper in question has never done any sort of supporting in his life and is actively an emotional distress trooper to a great number of the CC batch.

I want them texting everyday, I want Obi-Wan mailing handmade BFF bracelets to Alpha and Alpha sending pics back of him flipping off the camera but still wearing them, I want Alpha using Obi-Wan to keep track of and occasionally terrorize his cadets, I want 17 ending problems in the GAR (like Krell) before they begin because Obi-Wan has him shipped out on a personal transport at the first opportunity, decked out with slug-throwers Obi-Wan got him for his decant-day.

Natborn officers think this is all just an odd indulgence of General Kenobi, the Vode, however, correctly identify it as a goddamn threat and their danger assessment of Obi-Wan ticks up significantly.

When Alpha arrives on Kamino, Shaak Ti presses a shiny new comm into his hand. It has the Jedi Order symbol painted onto it alongside a smiley face sticker, and it pings immediately with a new message: Hello! I hope you're settling in well!

Alpha stares at the message, stares at the singular contact named 'OWK' and then stares Shaak Ti in the eye as he pitches the comm straight into the ocean. Shaak Ti's serene smile only grows larger as she calmly reaches into her robes and pulls out an identical comm, only this one has a frowny face sticker, and presses it into his hand. It lights up: I'm afraid we've bonded, Alpha :). Alpha shuts it off and pockets it with resignation.

Cody arrives on Alpha-17's personal recommendation.

A-17: He's the most difficult little bastard I have. You're perfect for each other. OWK: Thank you, he's very handsome :3 A-17: No. Stop.

The first thing he asks once he gets comfortable is who his general is texting so much that has him swinging his legs and twirling his hair. Cody assumes it's Anakin, given they seem joint at the hip anyway, but little does he know Obi-Wan's ability to consistently have the Weirdest Relationships Ever.

"Oh, it's Alpha-17, I understand you're familiar with each other?" Hmm. OK. Cody.exe is experiencing a processing error, please hold. He exits the room instead of answering. The next day he peeks over the General's shoulder when he's texting and sees walls of rambling messages from Obi-Wan. Alpha-17 replies every hour with a single text: Lose this number. Obi-Wan giggles. "He's so funny." he says.

When Obi-Wan meets the rest of the CC batch, Cody makes sure to stand perfectly angled so that he can record the reactions when his general cuts off their introductions with "Oh, no need, Alpha-17's told me all about you." It's always immediate FEAR.JPG followed by a slow spiral of What The Fuck.

What do you mean by that General. What does that mean Cody. What do you mean they text. No. Cody. What the fuck is happening, Cody. Alpha-17 doesn't have friends he has enemies and enemies he tolerates enough not to shoot on sight.

OWK: Wolffe reached for his vambrace? when I mentioned you A-17: That's where he keeps his spare knife. OWK: Hm that does explain the way he eyed me up, ambitious. A-17: Clearly not enough, he should have followed through. I taught them better.

[applepiwri]

au idea where all batman’s kids never became vigilantes/heros and all went straight to villainy.

why, you ask? because bruce was out so much dealing with gotham rogues and the justice league that they hardly see him anymore. and, after all, the best way to get the bats attention in gotham is to be an absolute menace.

imagine bruce coming back from some long mission off-world to find that gotham has several new rogues who have seemingly staked a claim on different parts of the city. they are all causing panic and havoc.

dick gets to flip around the city and cause his own brand of chaos, jason gets to try and run crime alley again, tim finally gets to have his villain arc(he’s so been planning this for months guys), damian is releasing so many animals from the zoo and getting them sent off to places that will rehabilitate them, cass is having a blast just stalking bruce while he is losing his mind on various gotham rooftops, and duke keeps using his abilities to like, flash bang creeps and assholes on the streets in broad day light. babs is probably eating popcorn and hacking into bruce’s comms with alfred to watch the chaos unfold. steph went around in a fake batman costume, really poorly mimicking bruce’s voice, and saying the most random shit to civilians.

the opportunists are endless. the plot holes are prevalent, but ignored

[oswildin]

I Hate You {Loki x GN!Reader}

Summary: Loki hates you. Or does he?

A/N: Avengers AU, mentions of ‘damsel in distress’ but no gender specifics or use of ‘y/n’

Warnings: Mentions of blood/injury

This is now also an audio pov on my tiktok! You can find it here

“Absolutely not-“

“No way-“

“Me with them?”

“Us?”

“Wouldn’t work-“

“Never in a million years-“

“I refuse to be on a mission-“

“-with him.” “-with them.”

Well, unfortunately for you, Fury didn’t give a rats ass that you and Loki did not get along. No, he expected professionalism and success. And that was hard when it came to Loki. He made everything so… difficult. He was arrogant, smug, annoying, grating and, quite frankly, a drama queen. Every mission he had been sent on had something happen - usually because of his penchant for mischief. He also deliberately did things around the compound to irritate you.

For example, the other morning he used your favourite mug, feigning naivety about the fact, labelling it an ‘innocent mistake’. But you knew better. And the glint of mirth in his eye when he said it told you all you needed to know. He also enjoyed moving your things - yes, you should know better than to leave your phone or keys or other items laying around in the common area, but at the same time, you were grown adults. In fact, he was over 1000 years old. Completely childish.

“Sounds like Rudolf has a crush.” Tony had said.

Ridiculous.

You hated each other. And Loki made that clear. He’d also often start arguments, especially in front of the others. Natasha suggested maybe he just enjoyed getting a rise out of you, or that he was trying to cover the fact that he did in fact like you. But you knew better than that. No, Loki Laufeyson just saw you as an easy target, knew you would react. It was entertainment for the God.

But anyway, the mission.

You both had been sent to a rather large warehouse, an underground arms dealer had been storing weapons there - of both alien and human nature. You’d both split up, entering from each end of the warehouse, covering both sides. Of course, you were met with guards, which you swiftly dealt with.

“You know, if you need a hand-“ Loki’s voice came through your earpiece, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Focus on yourself, Laufeyson.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you began to venture further into the warehouse. “I don’t need your help.”

“Very well. Continue with your brute force.”

“It isn’t ’brute force’, it’s called combat.”

“Of course, my mistake.”

Asshole.

He knew what he was doing. You could envision the amusement on his sharp features, the glint of smug mirth in his blue eyes. God, he was so annoying.

“‘My mistake’ my ass.” You muttered, pursing your lips as you began to survey the area.

“I can still hear you.”

You paused for a moment, before clearing your throat. “Good.” You retorted, raising a brow. “Then you can hear how I don’t appreciate you downplaying my abilities in this mission.”

“I never said such a thing.”

“Just focus on the mission.”

“I can do both at the same time. I’m rather talented at multitasking-“

“Loki-“ You hissed, frustration mounting with your partner. The God went quiet, probably to bask in his small victory of winding you up. You rounded the corner of a large shelving unit, seeing a load of crates, clearly ready to be shipped off to whoever. You had to admit, it was strange it was easier than anticipated. You’d expected far more guards and security… No, something was off.

Approaching the crates, you pried the lid off one, seeing it was empty. You furrowed your brows, moving to another, doing the same. Empty.

“Shit.” You whispered.

One more.

Prying open another crate, what you were met with made your heart stutter in your chest.

“Loki, get out.” You told him lowly through the comms, letting out a breath as you quickly turned on your heel. “It’s a trap, they knew we were coming- Just get out!” You urged, beginning to run.

“What? What did you find?”

“An explosive, now move!” You exclaimed, legs sprinting away from the crates, the explosive device.

You had ten seconds.

Loki’s expression turned serious, brows creasing, lips turning into a thin line as your voice came through his earpiece. He cursed under his breath, feeling panic creep up on him. You were a mortal, yes, a competent one at that but still a mortal.

“I’m coming.” Loki spoke into his earpiece, turning to head your direction, despite your warning.

“No- Loki, just go!” Your frustrated, slightly panicked, voice came through.

“Too late.” He quipped back, speeding up his long strides. However, before he could hear your voice argue back, the loud sound of the explosion sounded from the opposite end of the large warehouse, shaking its foundations. Loki let out a breath, eyes wider than before. You hadn’t told him how long he had, you had. He felt fear grip him. He called your name through the comms, breathing turning slightly heavier. When he didn’t get a response, a shiver went through him. His long legs began to sprint, forgetting completely about the mission. He had to get to you. By the Norns, he hoped you were okay.

Yes, it was true. He did annoy you. He loved winding you up, he loved when you got angry, when you snapped at him, gave him attention. Maybe it was childish, but it was his default. Any attention was good attention, and oh, how he vied for yours specifically. It was also partly that he just… didn’t know how to get your attention any other way. He wasn’t exactly… Well versed in… Romance. Sure, he’d read novels, but it was very difference in practice. Especially as the God of Mischief.

“Say something!” Loki exclaimed through his earpiece, a command and a plea.

However, nothing.

His heart, yes - of course he had one, beat faster. Anxiety. Fear. Adrenaline. It was all coursing through his veins. Smoke began to appear, thick and fog like as he summoned a blast of magic, dispelling it with a wave of his hand, allowing him to clear a path. The roof of the warehouse had partially caved from the explosion, rubble and debris ahead littering the ground and shelving units. He called your name again, and again.

You groaned as your brows creased, feeling a pain in your leg as you tried to sit up. You winced, glancing down to see a large metal beam had landed on your right leg, holding you down. Cursing under your breath, you heard the sound of your name being called through the sound of your ears ringing.

Loki.

“H-“ You coughed. “Here-“ You called back, voice raspy. “Over here!” You raised your voice slightly, forcing yourself to sit up, dust and dirt covering your form. After a moment, footsteps rushed towards you, clambering over the rubble as you looked up. Loki’s blue eyes instantly travelled over your form, looking for any injuries, before they landed on the beam and your leg.

“It’s okay- I’m going to get you out of here, alright?” Loki spoke calmly, despite his breaths being quicker than usual. You assumed it was from running. In fact, it was his panic. “I need to lift this-“ Loki shifted, rubble moving under his boots as he approached the beam. Luckily, it weighed nothing for a God. You winced as the pressure lifted from your leg, hearing the beam clatter loudly to the floor as Loki discarded it.

“You need to tell Fury-“ You began, slightly wheezy, moving to try and hoist yourself up. Loki’s brows furrowed.

“Forget about that-“ He told you firmly.

“Loki, SHIELD need to know-“ You argued, feeling his hand grab your shoulder to keep you on the ground.

“No, we need to get you outside and help-“ He rebutted, making you groan in irritation.

“Why can’t you just listen to me for once?!” You huffed, looking at him angrily.

“Because right now, you are more important than the mission!” Loki’s own voice raised, his words hanging in the air between you both. You blinked. “You’re hurt and you’re mortal-“

“Really? Throwing cheap shots at a time like this-“ You said defensively, moving to try and shove his hand from your shoulder. Loki let out an irritated growl.

“No! It’s because I care about you!”

Silence.

“What?” You whispered, lips parted in shock. Loki closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath.

“I…” He sighed. “I care… about you.” He murmured, meeting your gaze, searching - looking for any sign of understanding, recognition, something. “And… I know- I know I may not… show it in a… conventional manner-“ You almost scoffed. “But please, let me get you outside and then we can deal with Fury.” He held your gaze, nodding faintly, willing you to accept his words, accept his help. He truly, just wanted you to be okay. Your eyes flickered briefly down to your leg, seeing the red beginning to stain your mission gear as you felt your muscle throbbing. You didn’t think anything was broken, but a gash was a gash. It could get infected, it could be worse than it looked…

Silently, you gave a small nod. You swore you heard Loki let out a breath - yes, he had been holding it, waiting with bated breath for your agreement. “Right-“ He muttered quietly, shifting to get closer, kneeling down. “Arm over my shoulders-“ He told you lowly. “This may be… uncomfortable.” He warned before moving one arm around your waist, another under your knees, shifting your injured leg as you bit your lip to stop from making any sound of pain. “Okay?” He asked, eyes scanning your features, seeing the way you were biting your lower lip. You quickly nodded, giving him a look that said ‘hurry up, please’. Loki’s blue eyes shifted, softening, hating seeing you in pain.

It was strange. Seeing such a look from the God of Mischief, whose eyes were usually home to mirth. He cared about you. Tony’s words echoed in your head. Had Loki truly… had feelings for you this whole time? And like some… school boy had been showing his ‘affection’ by… teasing you? Testing you? Being irritating to get your attention?

Your thoughts were disrupted as Loki finally moved, hoisting you up with him as he stood to his full height, keeping you securely against his chest as he carried you bridal-style. The urge to make a quip about not being a ‘damsel in distress’ lingered on your tongue. Loki gently carried you, trying his best not to cause any further harm or pain to your leg.

“You really care about me?” Your voice finally spoke, breaking the silence that had lingered between you both since his confession. Loki’s lips parted, as if he was about to deny it - out of instinct. The quickly pressed together again.

“Is now really the time?” He asked lowly, raising a brow. “You’re bleeding, and I’d rather you didn’t get blood on my attire. It’s Asgardian leather.” He commented, lips quirking ever so slightly as he watched your eyes roll.

“For Gods-“ You muttered. “Put me down if you’re gonna be an asshol-“

“Okay, alright-“ He cut you off, sighing. “Fine.” He huffed, clearing his throat as he headed towards the entrance you’d first entered the warehouse in, deftly avoiding any debris that was strewn about on the floor. “Yes-“ He said, tone still huffy. “I thought that was obvious-“

“Obvious?!” You repeated in disbelief, the conversation helping take your mind off your wound. “You irritate me, do things to deliberately annoy me, argue with me-“

“You do the same.” He interrupted, tilting his head slightly as his gaze flickered over your face. Your lips parted in confusion and, almost, offence.

“No, I do not-“ You shook your head lightly.

“You do.”

“No- I don’t-“

“You’re doing it right now, arguing with me-“

“Because you started it!”

You both were outside by the time you’d finished, Loki still holding you as he came to a stop, a hint of a smirk on his face. “Yes, and you are always so intent on finishing it.” He quipped, making you narrow your eyes at him. “It’s extremely entertaining.” He shrugged slightly, your arm that was slung over his shoulders moving with him.

“Oh, well, I’m glad I could be of service.” You said wryly, turning your head to glance towards your leg. “I suppose I should thank you.” You mumbled reluctantly.

“Ah, yes-“ He nodded. “You really should.” He paused, raising a brow, feeling much better knowing you were okay. The fact you were arguing with him was a sign of that. “Perhaps you could buy me dinner?” He suggested, tone full of mischief. “There’s a lovely place just opened up in the city, Stark mentioned it-“

“You mean the five star, gourmet restaurant that costs an arm and a leg?” You scoffed.

“Seems fitting considering you nearly lost one.” He teased, making you raise your free hand, whacking him in the chest. “Ow!” He whined, brows furrowing, lips pursed. “Usually heroes get a kiss from the damsel in distress, not assaulted.”

“I hate you.”

“And I hate you.”

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

A glorious idea has spawned in my brain

Hunter x Criminal!reader where they have a Batman/Catwoman relationship, however this time Omega meets the reader and absolutely adores her so the reader decides to stick around a bit (despite Hunter's protests). During this time, the reader and Omega form a mother/daughter and Hunter secretly loves it and falls for the reader everytime he sees her with Omega

Hello my lovely anon,

Thank you for such a fantastic request. I hope I did your request justice. The setting is Season 1 of Bad Batch, so hopefully you don't mind too much. I wrote with f!Criminal!reader, hope that's okay. Reader has a nickname.

Enjoy.

Also, since this isn't part of the Fic Roulette request, it'll be filed under the One Shots Master List. It's a little longer almost at 2400 words.

Love oo,

Not Ready

Warnings: Slight thieving, Omega in danger, dangling from a tower, banter, angst, fluff, shooting, dangerous driving, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Part Two

AO3 Link   |   OS & MS Master List |   Main Master List  

“Give it back, and we can just both walk away.”

You twirled the rather large knife in your hand, “Hmmm, no.”

Hunter clenched his fists, “I said, hand it over.”

“And I said no.” You smirked underneath your mask, the only thing visible on your face were your eyes. Eyes so full of cockiness, determination and experience. “I gotta ask though, why so long?” You chuckled, “Compensating for something?” You flipped it back and forth in your hand, twirling it around your palm and the back of your hand. “Has good weight.” You smirked as you arched your brow, “If you know what I mean.”

“I don’t have time for your nonsense!” Hunter looked behind, sensing the Imperial troopers closing in, he let out a sigh, and before you even realized what was happening he tried to stun you. 

Unfortunately, he missed thanks to your ability to sense when danger was imminent. Without even thinking your body back-handspringed away from the blue stun blast. “That was rude.”

“Listen, I need to get to my sister, and I don’t have time to mess around!” Hunter could hear Tech on his comms as he described Omega hanging from the tower. 

“Your sister’s in trouble?” All teasing and flirting died on your lips as soon as you heard that.

“Yes!”

You nodded and tossed the knife back to the chiseled red-bandana wearing man in front of you, “Let me help.”

“No. You’ve helped enough.” His tone full of annoyance and frustration. He grabbed the knife and took off running towards Omega, ignoring the pang of regret from his tone. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know he was running to help Omega. Yet, the frustration from having to waste even a minute on you was more than enough to make him worry about Omega’s safety and that’s all that mattered. 

His feet came to a sudden halt when you appeared in front of him with a speeder bike, “Hop on!”

“What?”

“Just … I feel bad, ok! Now shut up, and get on!”

He didn’t delay, jumping on the back of the speeder holding on to your waist tightly as you weaved through traffic.

“Where is she?” You shouted over the noise of the air rushing past your ears. 

Hunter didn’t respond and simply pointed to the person dangling from the tower, as another helmeted person neared her position. 

You sped up the speeder, you’d know Fennec’s helmet anywhere. You weaved and dodged against the oncoming traffic, almost as though you could see where and when the next vehicle was going to be turning or shifting. Your heart nearly dropped as you saw the tiny person slip, driving faster and more dangerous to catch her in time. 

Hunter reached out his hand and grabbed a hold of Omega’s in midair, tossing her onto his lap, pinning her between the two of you. “You okay, back there?” You shouted to make sure everyone was safe as you saw Fennec jump down and commandeer a vehicle of her own chasing after the three of you. 

“We’re fine. Get us out of here!” He shouted as he quickly checked over Omega to make sure she was uninjured and safe. He couldn’t see much from how she was clutching to his chest plate, but it didn’t seem like she was in pain either. 

“You got this?”

“What?” 

“I’m asking if you know how to drive a speeder?”

“Yeah! Why?” He didn’t clue in to what you were preparing to do until you flipped over him and landed on Fennec’s vehicle.

“Hey gorgeous!” You smirked as you looked at her.

“Ugh! Should’ve known you’d be here.” Fennec answered, rolling her eyes as she tried to keep her eyes on her target.

“Wasn’t supposed but I sort of owed him one. Back off.” You stood aiming your blaster into the hood.

“No can do, little Butterfly.”

Force you hated that nickname, somehow it had stuck among the bounty hunters and assassins, simply because you were quick and light on your feet. Dazzling them with your antics and before they even realized you slipped out of their sight, blending into the crowds more often than not. 

“Fennec, I like you, but you need to back off!”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing.”

“I’ll split the reward with you, if you help me capture the little girl.”

You tried to stay balanced as Fennec tilted the vehicle side to side, “You disappoint me, going after a child.”

“Jobs a job, honey.”

You shook your head, “I warned you,” you shot your blaster into her engine, jumping off onto a nearby transport, watching as her engine began to sputter. She jumped to safety standing on the closest terrace she could find, as she watched you and her target move further away. You jumped down, finding your way back to the ground, hoping from one transport to the next. 

Once you touched solid ground, you looked back up to see Fennec turn and walk away. ‘Until next time, gorgeous.’ You mumbled as you headed back to the marketplace, before you even got five feet away, you felt your body jerk forward as tiny hands wrapped around your waist. You looked down to see the blonde girl, the rather striking man had rescued, his sister. 

“Uh… thanks, kid. I think…” you giggled as you pulled her arms away from you. 

“You saved me!” She beamed with a brilliant smile as she looked at you.

“I think your brother did that. I just drove.” You subtly shook your head, subtly moving away from the overwhelming bundle of joy.

“She has a point,” Hunter offered, “if you didn’t show up with a speeder when you did …” you could tell on his face he didn’t want to think about what might’ve happened.

“Listen, Fennec would’ve come up with something. She’s a bounty hunter, but she’s a fairly decent one. Anyway I’m glad you’re safe,” you patted the little girl’s head, “take care of yourself and your brother. Seems like he gets into trouble easily.” You turned to walk away when she gripped your fingers.

“Come with us.” She pleaded looking at you with big eyes that were asking for more than you were prepared to give, or have given to anyone since you could actually remember. It was nice to feel needed, but it was too much. 

Hunter wanted to grab Omega and pull her away from this woman who showed up, and was constantly surprising and making him feel uneasy at every turn. “Omega, we don’t know her circumstances. She’s probably already committed to something else, right?” Hunter narrowed his eyes on the helmeted woman in front of him, not wanting her to take the invitation Omega offered.

You’ve seen that look a thousand times before. It said everything that really mattered, you weren’t welcome, and he wanted you to leave as soon as possible. 

“Don’t worry,” you started keeping your eyes locked on the man standing behind Omega, “your brother is right, I’m … currently … occupied with other matters.” You smiled as you turned your attention to Omega, and kneeled before her, “Omega, right?”

She nodded, not letting your fingers go. 

You smiled and pulled out a collapsable vibroblade, “This is Vala,” you flicked your wrist and opened the vibroblade, “my father gave me this when I was about your age, he told me ‘this galaxy is full of good and bad people. Sometimes the good outweighs the bad, and sometimes there are too many bad, you won’t be able to find a good one. Vala, will always be there to protect you.’” You turned her hand palm-up and placed the vibroblade in her tiny hand. “It will protect you. Ask your brother to train you on how to use it. Never rely on someone else to save you, in this galaxy, sometimes the only person you can count on is yourself. Take care, Omega.” You ruffled her hair one more time, before standing up and walking away without looking back. 

It felt strangely comforting to be wanted, even if it was for a brief second. 

“Wait!” Hunter shouted, causing you to turn around, “We left your speeder that way” he pointed over his shoulder, you couldn’t help laughing.

“Don’t worry about it, handsome, it’s not mine.” You smiled and walked away.

Omega turned to Hunter, a saddened smile on her face, “Why couldn’t she come with us?”

“Omega,” Hunter kneeled, “we don’t know who she is. Whether she can even be trusted? It’s best if she goes her way and we meet up with Wrecker, Echo and Tech.”

“But…”

“Omega, I know you have a good heart, but you’re too trusting. It’s best if we keep a low profile and avoid entangling ourselves with people we don’t know. Come on, we gotta meet back up with the others.”

He guided her back to the hangar trying to avoid the Pantoran police force and the troopers that seemed to be searching for someone. 

Omega kept watching as one Pantoran guard held up a picture to a passerby, it was a picture of you. She pulled on Hunter’s sleeve and pointed to the Pantoran’s datapad. 

“They’re looking for her.”

“We should go…” Hunter tightened his grip on her hand, but she refused to move.

“We have to help her.”

“We don’t know why they’re looking for her. She could be a wanted criminal or a murderer, a thief.”

“Hunter, please. She saved me, it’s the least we can do.”

He looked at the picture and commed Wrecker, “Wrecker, where are you?”

“Just entering the marketplace right now, why?” 

“I need you to take Omega back to the ship, I …” he turned his head to look at Omega, “I have to repay someone who helped us get Omega back.”

Wrecker walked through the crowd faster than the others as people naturally moved out of his way, he stood in front of the both of them, tilting his head. “Who, you helping?”

“Don’t worry about it, just get Omega back to the ship and tell Tech we need to take off the minute I get back. Make sure Echo makes it back to the ship too. We may have to get out of here faster than expected.”

“Copy that” Wrecker picked up Omega and had her sitting on his shoulder as he headed back to the hangar with her. 

Hunter could hear the comm chatter between Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He let out a huff and shook his head, this was just asking for trouble. He ran back, heading the way you were walking. It wasn’t long before he found you sitting at a cafe sipping on something warm. 

“Came back to tell me you love me?” You teased him.

“Came back to tell you, you’re in danger.”

“Shocker.” You didn’t react or flinch, as you kept your eyes locked on the man’s eyes. 

“I need to know, are you a murderer?”

“No.”

“Do you have a bounty on your head with some crime boss or something?”

“No.”

“Then get up” he grabbed your arm and forced you to stand, grabbing your helmet as he pulled you along, running behind him. 

“Wait… hey!” You stopped in your tracks and pulled your arm out of his hold, “Who the hell do you think you are, pulling me like that? You know I have the right …” he put a hand over your mouth and pushed you into a darkened alley, hiding you with his body as a Pantoran patrol passed the two of you.

“They’re searching for you, and not just the police. The Imperial troopers are looking for you too.” He stepped away and handed you your helmet, “Listen, I don’t care what happens to you, but Omega was worried, and I’m not going to disappoint her. You’re warned. So you can either go back out there and try and avoid whatever trouble you got yourself into or…” he let out a sigh regretting the words that were about to come out of his mouth, “You can come with us and we can drop you off somewhere.”

“Us?”

“My brothers, Omega and myself.”

“Why are you helping?”

“Like I said, I don’t want to disappoint Omega. So what’s it going to be?”

You looked at him and then at the increased patrols you hadn’t realized were slowly filling up the streets, they all seemed to be looking for you. You closed your eyes and tapped your helmeted head against the wall, “Alright. I’ll trust you. Lead the way.”

He stepped closer to you, “I’m taking a chance on you, you put any of us in danger, and you and I are going to go another round, understood?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fine. What do I call you anyway? Because I don’t think ‘stuck up jackass’ would work.”

“It’s Hunter, and what do I call you? Because I don’t think ‘crazy tooka’ works.”

You smirked as you looked at him, “You can just call me Butterfly. Hunter.”

“Fine. Now let’s go. Butterfly.”

“You know I’m not as bad as you think.”

“And hell is just a sauna, shut up and follow me.”

As much as you tried to fight the urge to smile, you couldn’t help but enjoy the banter you two had. You also couldn’t help but examine his physique as you followed behind him, moving around the crowd, ducking and avoiding capture until you made it to his ship. 

Omega ran to you and hugged you again, “I knew he’d find you, come on. Let me show you inside.” 

She gripped your hand and dragged you along. You weren’t looking for family, but … as you moved closer to the ship, there was a strange sense of belonging that came from meeting the rest of her brothers. For the first time in a long time, you felt at home. 

Hunter watched you and the way Omega gripped your hand, as you introduced yourself to Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He had to admit, you were attractive, when he saw you without your helmet, he almost felt his tongue getting all tied up. Not to mention, the outfit you wore also drew attention to your physique which didn’t help. He didn’t know why but he had a feeling this could either be a really horrible idea, or it would be a very pleasant surprise. 

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[kneelingshadowsalome]

We know Konig is more soft on women, but is it all women in general? For example, if some girl was hitting on him, would he be rough with her? Would he ever kill a woman? (if he's on the battlefield - I'm guessing he would if he had to). Is he chivalrous to all women or just his partner?

Yes, König is absolutely super soft to all women in general 🌸

The thing is, women are an exception, a beautiful, pure anomaly in König's worldview. He both worships them and views them as fragile. Women need to be protected from all harm. And at the same time... König goes feral every time he gets to taste and touch and fu–ahem, make love to a woman.

CW: Toxic!König. Sexism. Mentions of canon-typical violence and PTSD. Freudian madness.

Something just snaps, and he doesn't want to hurt his Engel... but he's a bit ADHD, and far too needy, goes a bit crazy every time he sees her. Women's soft skin and plump breasts and hot, wet, silky folds drive him insane. He just wants to drown himself in a woman, hide somewhere deep, somewhere safe, but can't because he's so big and has to act all tough. If he could, if only he was allowed, he would fall asleep every night with his cock buried inside that beautiful, warm, velvet softness.

So König's deeply embedded insecurity and attempts to seek safety are a combination that make him a little unhinged when it comes to women. That's why he can never get enough 😔 Also this man's horrible childhood has made him an adrenaline addict. Chaos is what he's used to, it feels familiar, so there's a risk that König might never settle into safety even if he finds it. He needs a high (which means he needs to kill and he needs sex.)

Female operators are skilled and tough in his eyes, and he trusts their abilities (kind of), but he would always keep a silent lookout, and try to keep them safe. Even if those women looked at him like he's a weirdo. He would always choose to help a woman over helping a man. Men can and have to survive on their own if a lady is in trouble. I know this wasn't asked but He would also never, ever hurt children.

If a woman tried to kill him (on the battlefield) he would be very professional about it. He wouldn't find joy in the killing, though. As odd as it may sound, König would prefer shooting to stabbing when it comes to neutralizing a female target. He wouldn't want to prolong their deaths, and it would make him extremely uncomfortable to knife a woman down. If he has to, he will do it, but the kill would be as quick and clean as possible.

The ones König has killed linger on the precipice of his mind as precious memories, sick fantasies made real. But the women he kills haunt him forever: those deaths sometimes give him nightmares. Especially if they brought even the tiniest bit of satisfaction...

...Because König does go into a mode when he's left with a firearm. He's so excited he sometimes drops mags simply because he's so enthusiastic. Thrill and anxiety mix when he's working, and he feels absolutely marvelous every time he fires a gun and gets to announce "Target down" in the comms. Better yet if he can go on a spree and destroy a whole room full of villains. Noticing later that one or some of them were women would give him a cold feeling in the gut and leave him with a worsening PTSD.

If a woman was violent in other circumstances, meaning outside work/warfare, he would simply seize them as gently and firmly as he can and try to calm them down. König thinks hitting women is just wrong. Even if they were trying to hit him (hitting on, as in flirting with him, now that's a different thing hehe. Not sure if this is what you asked, if so let me know!). It's unmanly and cowardly, and he would kill any guy who hits women, and kill them without mercy.

König's traumatic childhood has put him on a knight's quest to protect all women and children from harm. His mother has greatly influenced the way he sees women overall. At the end of the day, they're creatures who don't know how to defend themselves so he needs to save them.

But then again... These 'Knight in Shining Armor' fantasies should be taken with a grain of salt.

Because seeing a woman under him in a helpless state, looking back at him with cute, wet eyes while he's lodged deep inside is the best thing in the world in König's opinion. He would never deliberately go and hurt a woman... But why then does it feel so good when Engel squeals every time he goes a little too deep? (Always on accident, of course.)

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I’m legit curious why the British press is so dedicated to sucking this Dipshit’s dick with such devotion. He’s shat on them consistently and they are still so desperate to do his bidding at turn. Why? Also, what did William do, because they are clearly so against him. I never thought I’d see a day when the british press treats an heir’s entire existence as an affront to the non-spare.

The press likes it when they have a leaky royal. They prefer it, in fact. Because leaky royals give them content and things to talk about, which gives them bylines and clicks, which makes them a shit ton of money.

So they cover Harry because he gives them scoops, leaks, and something to talk about. Harry even famously used to go out to pubs with them. William doesn’t. William keeps them at arm’s distance; he’s courteous to them on engagements and is a proper host on foreign visits but distant and not as easily accessible. The press ignoring William’s work to cover Harry is meant to be a punishment: “become our bestie like your brother is and we’ll cover your work but don’t talk to us, we’ll ignore you.”

Because the press is threatened by the fact that William doesn’t need them to do his job. He’s the heir, the future king, generally well-liked by the public, and has a huge income now from the Duchy of Cornwall. He can sidestep the press by using his social media or his own comms team. He makes the press irrelevant, which terrifies, frustrates, and angers them.

Harry makes the press relevant. He lets them do their job. He gives them that ability. Which is kinda…ironic, I suppose. For as much as Harry hates the press and has bullied them for what they do, he doesn’t realize that he enables it. So while he wants to be the great modernizer who revolutionized how the monarchy engages with the press, it’s actually William doing that by not talking to them or engaging with them outside of his work. If Harry had just kept his mouth shut and cared more about the work than getting positive, friendly coverage, then he’d get all the credit.

But he isn’t, he doesn’t, and once again it’s Big Willy getting all that Harry wants.

Anyway.

I see from the coverage yesterday that:

1. Harry and Earl Spencer patched up whatever disagreement they had that made Earl Spencer nope out of going to Lili’s christening with his sisters. Perhaps it was Earl Spencer’s own vomitsastic memoir…because like nephew, like uncle: oversharing on private details about his virginity no one gives an absolute shit about.

2. Harry clearly isn’t that worried about his safety in the UK if he can do a surprise walkabout to meet his fans. Can’t wait to see that backfire on him in his RAVEC appeal.

3. Is Harry setting William up as a controlling husband to try and smear his reputation? There was an article yesterday about how Harry can’t see Kate or support her through her cancer battle because William forbids it. 🙄

[anika-ann]

Cracks in Foundation (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, standalone or part of Love on the Brain series

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 6000

Summary: Dating Steve Rogers is a curse and a gift. Even as it was always a privilege, right now, it feels like the former. You really want to smack some sense into him so this never happens again, but you know it will – after all, that’s half the reason you love him.

In other words, Steve is stupidly brave on a mission and it has consequences neither of you could foresee. But maybe you should have; because now you’re here alone to pick up the pieces.

Warnings!!: Steve being an absolute dumbass, mentions and images of death, hypothermia, PTSD, flashbacks, probably not an ideal treatment of a flashback, canon typical violence, language

A/N: reader is called “Agent Jones”, works for the Avengers Initiative; you do not need knowledge of Criminal Minds or Love on the Brains series to read this, but it will, of course, make more sense. I imagine this taking place much later - in about a year after the events of Love on the Brain; divider by firefly-graphics

In my body I fight fire With the snow, my hell is cold (SYML – Body)

This shouldn’t have happened. This nevershouldn’t have happened but it had – of course it had. You should have seen it coming, both the action and the reaction. All of you should have known better, but you in particular.

Unfortunately, sometimes, despite your ability to profile people, you still failed.

Sometimes, despite your best knowledge of Steven Grant Rogers, you still managed to underestimate him. His literally unhuman body. His profoundly good heart. His incredible strength in both muscles and psyche. His ability to have you burn for him with a single touch. His ability to touch your heart in ways no one ever could.

His extraordinary dumbassery.

You really should have known so much better.

If you had, you wouldn’t have him here, face ashen, lips turning blue, eyes wide and unfocused; he looked like death itself.

You swallowed your tears and tried to battle the ever-rising panic crawling up your throat, closing your eyes for a moment as if it could erase the terrifying sight.

“Steve? Stevie? You’re going to be okay… I’m here. You’re going to be okay…”

You repeated the mantra so many times you weren’t sure anymore whether you were saying it to him or to yourself.

The craziest thing was, it wasn’t even the worst sight of the day you were offered by your exceptional dumbass of a boyfriend; no, that had been what your own mind had shown you. Now that image was going to haunt you forever and despite knowing yelling solved nothing and it couldn’t change the past, you were going to scream your lungs out when you’d get the chance. Later. Right now, you had more pressing matters to attend to.

Like making sure Steve Rogers, your GG, would come back to you.

You needed to get to work.

It was a routine mission really, if such things as routine existed within the Avengers Initiative. It was rather routine in terms of involvement of the actual Avengers; Steve and Natasha joined missions like these – sweep a base, gather intel, make some arrests if lucky enough – on a regular basis. Tony Stark coming with? Less so. Still, one could call it routine enough, even when located in the death of tundra in Russia around 100 miles from the border with Finland.

Besides the cold and Tony, there was nothing extraordinary. Just another mission.

And it had been; until the agents scattered and you heard several voices in the comms reporting they were in pursuit of the enemies. Until you found out they were chasing them through the tunnels and suddenly found themselves outside of the base. Until you learned that outside meant the landscape of the very frozen lake Natasha had purposely avoided landing the quinjet on for the fear of the heavy aircraft destabilizing the already risky environment.

Until you heard agent Smith was down. And by down, they meant under the ice, because a thinner layer of it cracked and broke under his feet. Until Steve fucking Rogers, two hundred and forty pounds of muscle and zero brain power at the moment had the wonderful idea to rush to Smith’s aid.

You had made it out of the base just in time to see his navy-blue suit disappear and your sleep for the following nights probably with it. You had stood there holding your breath as if you were the one in the icy water, as if subconsciously testing how much oxygen – as if that was the only concern – you had left before you’d have to make it to the surface for another breath.

It was long. It was too long. You had taken at least two breaths in the meantime and you weren’t sure the panic rising in your chest with every frantic beat of your heart, with every second they did not appear above the surface, was to blame.

Your hand flew to your comms and you cursed yourself for not having done it moments ago.

“Tony-“

“I’m onto those idiots, Squirt, don’t worry,” his voice sounded in your ear, not quite easing your worry in fact.

Steve was still under. Still in the water. Even though you were aware that he survived much worse than a few seconds of icy cold water – try decades – you’d rather he was still conscious when Tony would get his stupid ass out. And the second Steve would be able to hear you, were going to yell, very loudly and probably more than a little hysterical, because what the hell had he been doing beside tempting fate to give him another involuntary icy nap. You were going to chew the hell out of him, your fists curling in your thick microfibre gloves, because you felt like punshing him too, anything, just so you could stop holding your breath.

But you needed him to get out first.

“And get to the jet, your bae will need some warming up,” Tony added, causing you to grit your teeth, even as you were grateful; not a second later, the whoosh of Iron Man’s suit flying above your head blew the few stands of hair that escaped your hat in your face.

Completely ignoring Tony’s inappropriate comment and his sound advice, you remained right where you stood, gaze transfixed where you had last seen Steve, slipping under the surface. Your pulse thundered in your temples as you watched the red and gold of Tony’s suit fly like a flare above the flood of white surrounding you all, nearing the break in the ice, no doubt searching the heat signatures you assumed were fading with each passing moment.

And then the Iron Man himself performed an obnoxious superhero-like landing, complete with fist on the ground and your anger, gathering since you saw Steve dive into a fucking ice soup without a second thought, exploded, your vision turning bloody red for a split second. What the fuck was Stark doing that for?! Did he really just feed his ego while on a rescue mission?! You were going to-

And then the fist landed again. And again and again and then it hit you. You didn’t have the capacity to scold yourself for assuming and assuming completely wrong; the realization stunned you, blood freezing in your veins having nothing to do with the snow and harsh wind hitting your face.

The ice had frozen over. Steve jumped in and before he could emerge, the ice had frozen over his head. The image of a him under water, holding Smith, the fucking moron, to his chest and fighting to punch his way through the solid surface, swinging his arm heavily through the icy water stinging every inch of his skin, losing oxygen by the minute, that was an image that would haunt you forever, even as you had never set your eyes on it.

Then again, the arm of Tony’s suit diving into water and pulling out two men as easily as if they were helpless kittens was etched into your brain just as effectively, arriving with overwhelming relief. With a wordless prayer on your lips, you squinted against the snow blowing in your face to search for a lump of beloved and hated navy blue suit contrasting against the endless white of the plain surrounding the incident.

You’d swear you could hear him coughing, hungrily drinking in air in between when he doubled over as soon as Tony dropped him off in a safe distance from the crack. In the back of your mind, you were aware of the red and gold figure carrying the motionless body of Agent Smith, flying it to the quinjet, the medical team having prepared on the ramp with a stroller and equipment, but your eyes were transfixed on the dark mass of a supersoldier good hundred feet away still. You were almost certain, even from the distance, that he also managed to empty his stomach to make him feel even more miserable. Not that you blamed him; it had to be, apart from really fucking cold, extremely terrifying. It definitely was for you. Just the memory made your feel throat as if squeezed in a vice.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, pick-up number two happening right away,” Tony assured you face-to face, uncharacteristically humourless now that he had set eyes on the momentarily lifeless body of Agent Smith.

You thought you uttered a thank you, but he couldn’t hear it as he was already off to carry your exceptionally idiotic boyfriend along. And so you ran to the jet, boots heavy with snow falling in and biting coldly into your calf and shins, legs stiff from the shock of the experience still.

When Tony finally brought Steve after what felt like a lifetime, you certainly didn’t speak a word of complaint when he also hauled him further into the quinjet into one of the medical cubicles sans a team. You followed, painfully aware of every single muscle in Steve’s body trembling, the tips of his fingers having turned white.

“You can yell at him first,” Tony told you graciously, shooting Steve an ugly look before glancing at you entering just behind them.

“Gee thanks,” you snarked back automatically, tone softening when you met his genuinely worried eyes. “Thank you, Tony, really.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed, but a small smile passed over his lips. “Jarvis, heat up this room for our Capsicle, will you?”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname. Steve wasn’t going to live that down any time soon, probably ever, not after attempting to became an icicle for the second time.

“Certainly, sir. Gradually heating up to 25 degrees Celsius, as recommended in the medical manual,” the AI chimed helpfully, the wave of heat washing over you instantly. The air felt almost tropical after the arctic wind outside, but you were grateful. Steve would need that.

“Thanks, J,” you said, throwing off your gloves, hat and parka as quick as you managed with your fingers freezing, not bothering with more as to help Steve strip his soaking garments as soon a possible.

The silence that settled after rang a sudden alarm bells; it dawned to you at last that during the whole exchange, Steve remained quiet. Way too quiet.

You’d expect the sounds of zippers and Velcro as he was tearing off his uniform, the fabric dripping icy cold water despite the best engineers and designers having worked on the material. You’d expect his teeth to clatter in doing so, colourful curses on his blueish lips, especially when in company of only you and Tony. He had been coughing out water, quite violently, barely just having been dropped in the jet, so you’d think his air-ways would still fight spasm and the biting intrusion of ice, the raspy wet cough not ceasing.

But Steve was doing neither of that, tripling your worry for him in the process.

You moved to round him to get a look at him with an urgent whisper of his name, stomach flipping in fear when he didn’t answer.

The lack of any action or sound was incredibly disconcerting, because it could mean two things: either, he was absolutely stunned, the weight of what could have happened finally falling on him, or he had been already struck by hypothermia severe enough to be acutely in danger despite being a far cry from what Smith had looked like when Tony dropped him off.

When you finally laid your eyes on Steve’s face, your heart nearly stopped. His skin was scarily pale, his lips turning alarming blue, but that, while worrying, wasn’t surprising at all. What shocked you was his eyes; his pupils were blown wide, unfocused, misted over to the point that had he been lying on the ground, you’d swear he was--

Do not even think it. You can’t. He was going to be fine, he was alright, he just needed to warm up, he was not—He was very much alive, you were sure of it, he had to be. But the fact was, Steve couldn’t see you. He wasn’t seeing anything.

With horror, your gaze fell to his chest and in a split second, you realized that his whole body was still. Way too still. He wasn’t moving at all; he wasn’t even breathing. And yet, he was standing upright, almost as if his feet simply froze to the ground and that was the only reason why he hadn’t collapsed yet- But you knew, you knew that wasn’t possible, and despite the panic clawing at your throat, you were hundred percent certain that he wouldn’t be standing upright had his heart stopped, so how was he still standing?

It would be baffling if it wasn’t absolutely terrifying. Why was he so still? It literally looked as if he was frozen, as if-

He was frozen.

When it finally clicked, a choked noise erupted from lips, your heart shattering into thousand pieces; but your mind snapped into action, already working on solutions.

“Tony, get us as many of towels, blankets and those small heat packs, as you can manage  and give me full access to J. Make sure we have complete privacy. No one needs to see this.” Your throat was too tight for you to be able to speak on normal volume, but that was the least of your concerns, truly. You were sure Tony heard you just fine.

At least someone did.

“Kinky-?” Tony uttered, confused by your sudden escalated panic and the look you shot him – if looks could kill, he’d already be lying in a pool of his blood.

“Tony, get your ass fucking moving or I’ll swear to god I’ll strangle you in a way that will make Sam McDowell look like an amateur.”

Whether he knew the name of the prolific serial strangler or simply understood the urgency in your tone, he had enough wit to take his leave without further protest and with relative hurry, leaving you focus fully on Steve. Oh Steve. The absent brilliant blue of his irises had your stomach make another unpleasant somersault, your eyes filling with tears, nose tingling in anticipation of a full sobfest.

You so couldn’t afford that now. You couldn’t afford screaming either, but good god, did you want to – you wanted to stand in front of a mirror and scream your lungs out because how could it have not punched you straight in the face right away? How could you have not seen it coming?! You only had years of experience in profiling, with dealing individuals struggling with PTSD among other things. You only known Steve for years, knew what he had endured. You only learned about the sacrifice of Captain America in high school, several years ago.

God, the icy water. Could there be any more obvious and deadly trigger?

Of course Steve’s gaze was absent, his whole mind was. He wasn’t here with you, not in time and not in space; he was in the water. In a water so icy it was turning solid, trapping him for decades to come. People couldn’t breathe under water. People couldn’t breathe when frozen in a mass of ice.

Now you understood the reason for the absolute stillness of his whole body including his chest. Steve’s mind was locked so firmly into the memory that it either shut his body – because logically, he wouldn’t be able to breathe, let alone move in the prison he found himself in – or it latched onto his survival instinct, screaming at him not to breathe to prevent the water flooding into his lungs.

You fought your instinct to gag when the iron fist that realization hit you square in the stomach and sent bile up your throat.

So not the time. You needed him to snap out of it. And you needed it fast before you’d lose any more precious seconds.

“Steve?” you called out lowly, giving zero shit about the crack in your voice. “Stevie? You’re going to be okay, but I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me?” you pleaded.

Grimacing, you released an involuntarily whimper when you got zero reaction. You pushed through the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to repeat the words in normal volume. The only response you got was the ever-present unnatural stillness; and Steve’s lips gradually turning bluer.

Your thoughts whirled in your head, mind desperately trying to latch onto any knowledge and experience you had with dealing with PTSD. You had never encountered someone with similar problem, never dealt with a flashback of this magnitude; Gideon had once taken the lead with a soldier trapped in his mind, murdering civilians for he believed them to be enemy soldiers, but that was Gideon. Jason Gideon, with his mind of steel and twenty-five years of experience. Jason Gideon, one of the founding fathers of the Behaviour Analysis Unit himself.

On your own, you were at loss with someone so far gone; but what you knew had to be enough. What you knew was that the only way of breaking Steve out of the prison his mind had created was to anchor him in reality, to appeal to all his senses.

The problem was that the majority of stimuli Steve was receiving from his senses matched the very environment of his flashback. The reality you would try to ground him in was his clothes soaking wet in freezing water and him being on a planewith a voice of a woman in his ears, trying to sooth his suffering. In other words, the reality was how he ended up buried in the ice in the first place.

Aware that you were shaking like a leaf yourself, jaw set so tight it was beginning to hurt, you were also painfully aware you couldn’t just stand there doing nothing with cheeks wet with tears and stare at the strongest person you had ever knew involuntarily depriving himself of oxygen. You had to do something.

Touching him was, frankly, a terrible idea; touching anyone with a flashback would be, because you’d be risking triggering a fight or flight response instead. Touching Steve and triggering the fight part in a supersoldier however, get him run on pure instinct? Now that could result in your broken neck or crushed windpipe really quickly. That idea truly didn’t sound appealing to you; and Steve would never forgive himself. You’d rather avoid that.

You took a deep breath, releasing the air shakily as your mind raced. Alright. Time. If you couldn’t ground him in space, you needed to ground him in time.

“Steve, GG, look at me. I’m Agent Jones – I’m Sparkles,” you said urgently, taking care to voice every syllable, daring to step an inch closer to him, hoping to fill his field of vision completely. “And I’m right here with you. There’s no water. Nothing’s stopping me or you from breathing.” You exaggerated an inhale and exhale, the warm air washing over his face, but without any effect. “There’s plenty of air, GG, for both you and me. Please.”

You dug your nails into your palms when nothing happened but your love staring back blankly, unnaturally stiff.

Steve could hold his breath for a long time – much more than an average human, his lung capacity unmatched – but he had also been drowning, so you really couldn’t count on that. You were running out of time. He was going to pass out. Sure, his breathing would kick in then and hell, maybe losing consciousness would be a blessing compared to this, but that sleep would not be peaceful and there was no telling what the wake-up call would look like other than really fucking unpleasant. The idea of him escaping one nightmare only to be find himself in another and then another until he woke up to the reality just as harsh, as if freshly having lost the whole world he knew all over again, chased fresh tears into your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Tony’s voice snapped you from your focus, your heart nearly bursting through your chest.

Jesus, how long had he been standing there?

Not important; and you didn’t have time to explain. Without thinking, you spilled the truth in as few words as possible, in the very same breath you tried to appeal to Steve again, your gaze never shifting from his pale face.

“He’s having a flashback, please leave, thank you for the blankets-- GG, please. Breathe with me, there’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise. I’m right here. Trust me. I can breathe just fine…”

You could not. You felt as if someone smashed your ribs with a crowbar for laughs and hit and hit until you couldn’t breathe in without blinding pain, but you knew, you knew it had to be nothing compared to what Steve was facing and you needed to get a grip, you couldn’t wallow in it and you couldn’t let the biting fear consume you. Not with Steve like this.

You were out of other options. Gulping, you oh so slowly lifted your trembling hand, settling it against Steve’s ashen cold cheek. You only got as far as your skin brushing his when a vice-like grip on your wrist stopped you, tearing your touch away and completely immobilizing your hand in the process.

He didn’t look at you as you hissed in pain; he was still far, far away, not moving an inch more than strictly necessary to stop you. But the jolt of pain into your wrist was accompanied by a loud gasp for air, his ribcage expanding right in front of your eyes.

A wet laugh escaped you. “Oh thank god.”

His fingers might as well be made of ice, just as freezing and just as rigid, clutching at you with all the might his body was probably capable off and it hurt. But at least it wasn’t your throat in his grip; you could both breathe. That was a tremendous win.

You still needed to anchor him further and actually bring him back, but the door to his mind were unlocked at least. Now you needed to appeal to all his senses, talk him through it, so he could open the door himself.

“Agent Jones? Do you require assistance?” Jarvis asked warily, no doubt reacting to your physical distress.

Rightfully so, because it was growing – if it was possible, Steve’s fingers dug further into your flesh, already making for a bruise, you were sure. Your fingertips begun to tingle, strange numbness spreading through your hand, but you were far too gone to give up now. You could handle this. You’d get Steve release you on his own.

“Not for now, J, thank you. We’re good—actually, Jarvis?” you called out lowly, the artificial intelligence instantly letting you know he listened. “Can you play me a song? I need to get Steve in the modern times.”

“Certainly. What would you like me to play, Agent Jones? Something contemporary?”

“Yeah. Contemporary and irritatingly ear-worming,” you muttered, mind racing.

A song Steve would hundred percent know, one his mind would without a single doubt identify as something modern. It was the biggest assholery of your mind to push the melody of Let It Go into the forefront of your overstressed brain before anything else, but a hysterical chuckle escaped you anyway, forcing you to lick off tears from your lips. It was the stupidest thing and the worst irony ever – because yeah, the cold really fucking bothered you now and it sure bothered Steve.

“Something way too overplayed on a radio, preferably without the words cold, snow, ice and such in it, J.”

It was only half a second later, when Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off came out the speakers.

Despite yourself, you snorted, fresh tears springing out. This time, you appreciated the irony. That was what Steve needed, right? He just needed to shake it off. He’d be fine.

Taking a deep breath, smiling through your tears and the growing pains in your wrist, you got to work.

You told him what he was hearing. The engines, the song, the heating running, your voice. You told him what he could see, your hair, the colour of your eyes, the Avengers logo etched onto your uniform and not an SSR one, the high-tech equipment you knew he could have never seen in his original time. You told him about the heat washing over his face and hair, your hand in his.

The owlish, painfully slow blink you elicited was a victory, bringing a smile to your face, drying your tears, bringing a softer and softer tone to your voice as you continued speaking.

“Steve? GG? I know it’s cold and I want to help you,” you said gently, trying to meet his gaze as it began to slowly roam to room; still absent, but not misted over anymore. “I could help you by taking off that wet suit, taking away the cold. But for that, I need you to let go of my hand so I can-“

You gritted your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut when the response you got was the exact opposite, as if he was mad at you for even suggesting it; you stifled the whimper at the prickling his grip sent through your arm. It was hard to tell whose hand was paler now; he definitely cut off your circulation and it was not a pretty sight. But you only had yourself to blame and you promised yourself you’d never do otherwise.

It was only when the numbness replaced the pain that it dawned to you where the problem might be.

“GG, please? I promise I won’t leave. I’ll stay right here with you. But I need you to release my hand so I can take that cold away. Only the cold, I swear.”

You nearly cried when the pressure on your wrist gradually eased, a shaky exhale sounding a lot like a whine escaping you. That was most definitely more than a bruise; you allowed yourself a few seconds of deep breaths, fighting off the dark edge in your vision.

Then, you grabbed after one of the small heating pads, snapping the thin metal plate inside to initiate a chemical reaction; in an instant, the thick liquid began to solidify and warm up. You placed in into Steve’s still open palm, hanging loosely by his side, enclosing his icy fingers around it despite the gloves getting in the way. You winced at the sharp pain shooting through your arm. Definitely more than a bruise. You repeated the process to warm up his other hand, finally going for the Velcros and zippers on the front of his suit.

Thankfully, the temperature Jarvis had set melted the microcrystals of ice around the metal, allowing you to undo it relatively easy. You felt Steve’s eyes on your now, his body slowly, oh so slowly getting on with the programme, fists unclenching when you needed to pull the sleeves over his hands without dropping the pads.

“You’re doing so good, Stevie, so good,” you praised him softly, loud enough to speak over the second playing of the song in the background. You were going to hear it for days, you were certain. And you’d hate it forever, too. “You’re a great help, GG, thank you.”

When he dropped the pads, you made a quick work of undoing his gloves too, before pushing new pads into his hands. His thick pants followed; the boots though, those were trickier.

Fuck this. You swiftly searched the transparent cabinets for scalpel, slicing the material through as carefully as you could with your still trembling hands. The water was still brutally cold against your fingers; and your wrist was beginning to throb. Almost there, you soothed yourself, wondering whether you’d manage to make Steve sit down so you could take off those boots and the pants… and underpants. You’d rather have him keep his dignity, but his boxer shorts were soaked through as well and way too close to his core… maybe if you placed enough heating pads around…

The truth was that despite your instincts screaming at you, you knew you didn’t have to worry that much about the physical effects of the low temperature on him. As awful as it sounded, you knew he could take the icy cold – that was part of the problem. It was the numbing memory constructing the perfect trap for his mind, the dissociation, that took precedence, as unusual as it was. And if you weighted the pros and cons…

Well. It wasn’t like his dick was going to freeze right off.

You stood to your full height, licking your lips as you faced Steve again. He was watching you now with surprising intent; you tried to give him a reassuring smile, raising your unharmed hand slowly enough for him to register and placed it on his ribs, almost under the armpit, ready to support him in case his muscles didn’t quite respond to his command as expected when you’d ask him to sit down.

What you didn’t expect was for him to crumble under your touch.

Over two hundred pounds of muscle was too much for your body to carry. When he leaned onto you without a single warning, his knees giving way, dropping his whole weight on your shoulders, you tumbled to the ground as you were without a real chance to slow down the fall. Your hands instinctively attempted too, but you knew you could add bruised backbone and your other wrist to the list on your injuries.

And while pain briefly shot through you very bones, you soon didn’t give a damn.

Not when Steve buried his face in the crook of your neck, arms gripping onto your body like as if it was a lifeline, harsh breaths and heartbreaking sobs escaping his lips, shaking his usually strong frame; but maybe that was just shivers from the cold. His skin was still almost icy to touch, his nose like an icicle as he pressed to your collarbone over your thermals, wet hair tickling your chin; his pants at his ankles, his boots, barely keeping together, still as his feet. You let them be as they were. Instead of stripping him further, you managed to reach for at least one of the pads and throw it into his lap, the blankets and towels too far away.

You enclosed Steve in a hug, achy hand carefully resting in his hair, the other running soothing circles on his back in a poor attempt to console him. His tears seeped into your shoulder and you never cared less for anything in your life; yours in return disappeared into his hair. Sweet nonsenses were spilling from your lips, drowned in his ragged sobs; you whispered his name over and over, his name and all endearments that came to mind and even remotely fit him. I’ve got you, love. Sweetheart, I’m here, sweet, I’m here… oh GG, my gentle giant, giant heart, I’ve got you, this will pass, I’ll help, I’ll help, I’ll help you stand up again. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you, baby, so proud…

The song, thank god, stopped playing as soon as Steve broke.

You could feel his body weighting a ton, every muscle weary, strung and feeble at once, and yet, it was his mind making for most of the weight he couldn’t bear. Feelings he normally hid behind a wall as tall as Tower of Babel so he could lead others into battle with a brave face now oozed off him and soaked your skin and mind. You could only imagine the onslaught of emotions and memories, reminders of all he lost, the ghost of having woken up in the new millennium for the first time looming over him.  

The way his fingers dug into your forearm, clutched at the flesh of your waist, it would hurt later; but at the moment, those long agonizing minutes that felt like an eternity, you barely felt it, instead consumed by overwhelming grief for the kindest and strongest soul you had ever met. The best man, breaking in front of your eyes and in your arms.

It took long minutes before you dared to move, just enough to reach for the blanket and strip him off the pants and shoes at least. You never went too far. The volume of your voice decreased along with Steve’s, along with the tremble of his exhausted body. He melted into your frame, falling asleep right there, held in your considerably weaker arms and you were grateful.

In a low voice, you asked Jarvis to notify Steve’s therapist – and yours, even if with less urgency. The worst of it was over, but you weren’t naïve as to think that just because the storm was over, there would be no damage and no need for restoration.

For now, you held Steve and tried to keep him warm, not blind to the fact his body combined with Jarvis’ service was already drying off the last piece of clothing he wore. You ran the fingers of your unharmed hand through the golden damp strands of his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead every now and then, hoping his sleep was dreamless.

Minutes or hours later, Natasha was the one to find you still curled one into other, gently telling you that everyone had already left the jet and that she’d send medics over in a few. You gave her a brave smile even as you were feeling everything but, your adrenalin wearing off and leaving you on the brink of breaking yourself.

When two medics rolled Steve away and you followed, refusing to move an inch farther from Steve than necessary just in case he’d unexpectedly wake up, a third one forced you to take an x-ray as your hand was already swelling.

As it turned out, there was a crack in both your ulna and radius, the mass, however strong, having been unable to withstand Steve’s strength. The swelling was bothering your nerves and your veins, hence the painful tingles and numbness; but in the end, they were just cracks. They’d heal.

Cracks actually usually hurt more than complete breaks, Doctor Jackson told you. You thought it was quite fitting. What Steve had experienced was not a break, for he was never broken; you weren’t certain he could be. It was but a crack; the foundation of who he was had so far been strong enough to withstand horrors unimaginable. And even though the cracks hurt like a bitch, you’d be there for him to help him through the pain.

The cracks in your bones could be solved by a few pills and rest; his would be a little more complicated.

But you’d help build him up again. You’d help him stand tall. Not for the sake of Captain America, the shining beacon of hope, the façade that could be speedpaint with shines of red, blue and white with ease. No, you’d help repair the real cracks for Steve, the gentlest of giants you knew, even if it would take more time and effort than an icon.

He was worth the trouble; even as you suspected that once he’d wake, he might have a thing or two to say about that. You’d convince him otherwise; you wouldn’t be alone.

And neither would he.

With a splint all over your forearm and wrist and a promise you would do a session in Doctor Cho’s cradle to speed the healing, you settled on the bed by Steve’s bedside, the surprisingly serene expression on his face and the gentle beeps of the heart monitor making for a warm hum of satisfaction in your chest.

You’d heal together. Of that, you were sure.

I was hearing words in black and white Twisted up inside my broken mind Outstretched dirty hands just like a child Hungry little fool, but you were mine (SYML – Body)

Steve Rogers masterlist // Love on The Brain masterlist

Notes (because the first aid trainer in me screams and severe hypothermia is a bitch): normally, first concern would most definitely be the cold, hypothermia and the impending arrhythmia (can be caused by the cold), but a) it was established Steve’s body can take it (proved the hard way) and b) his suit probably kept the absolutely worst away… PSA over.

ANYWAY. I hope you – well – liked it ("enjoyed" feels like a little too strong of a word for Steve’s suffering) 🥰 Thank you for reading! Feedback is life.

P.S. – this will likely be followed by a second part called Restoration, but I make no promises.

P.P.S. - if you wish to read a fluff about "Steve fell through frozen lake" situation, I recommend Frozen by @tilltheendwilliwrite 🥰

P.P.P.S. -  if you are a CM fan, know that the title is a loose reference to Emily's issues in the second half of season seven when she tries to re-settle down with the team and at Quantico.

[mylarena]

absolutely fucking ruined by the concept of soap thinking that ghost shouldve left him behind in las almas. him not understanding why ghost waited for him. him being confused the entire time, but not questioning it because it wasnt the time for it. he was more of a liability than a help, considering his bullet wound.

why did ghost lead him through the city when he couldve just gotten out by himself with a lot less risk of getting caught? he supposes the "we're a team" could be an answer, that ghost felt obligated to keep him alive, but with the amount of danger ghost had been in? he logically shouldve cut his losses and gotten the hell out of dodge. a sergeant isnt worth as much as a lieutenant - soap isnt worth as much as ghost.

it doesnt make sense to him. but he never asks- never feels like its the right time, despite them spending so much of it together.

and isnt that fucking baffling as well? ghost hangs out with him. he seems like hes with him more often than not. hes always ghosting - haha - him, always watching him from the corner when the team goes out for drinks, always on comms during missions, always checking his injuries after he gets out of medical.

soap teases him for getting soft with him sometimes, ("so you do like me?" "i like you alive."), but he never makes fun of him. if it were ghost who was injured so often, he thinks he would be the same way. but ghost isnt- hes too well trained and careful to be in and out of medical as much as soap is. reasonably so, considering his rank. hes important to the team, one of the essential cogs to keep the group functioning.

its during a mission that soap finally breaks and asks.

it had been something fairly simple- clear intel, a solid plan, just something in-and-out. but the intel wasnt clear enough and the whole situation went to shit. they were ambushed, and soap was caught on the other side of the battlefield, shot and immobilized. the place was crawling with hostiles, soap was barely staying hidden in some tiny office room that they hadnt checked.

when ghost asked for his status, urgent, he gave him a straight answer: he was incapacitated and wouldnt be able to make it to evac with the rest of the squad, and he was surrounded by enemies that would likely find him soon. he asked for ghosts own situation with evac, knowing that the longer they waited for him the more danger they put the entire squad in. ghost told him that the squad was leaving as they spoke, and so soap expected the line to go silent soon. but it didnt- ghost kept talking to him, keeping him awake. there was no noise of a vehicle in the background either, which confused him, but his mind wasnt really at its peak at the moment, so he didnt really pay attention. what he paid attention to was ghosts shitty dad jokes and the banter he prompted.

he lost track of time and sat in a sort of daze, having lost a lot of blood and still losing it. then ghost asked what building he was in. he mindlessly answered to the best of his ability and waded through his thoughts for a few moments before realizing the implications of the question. so he asked, voice slurred.

"wait, why d'y'need t' ken?"

"because im almost there, johnny."

and soap is even more confused.

"ye didn' go with th' rest o' th' team?"

" 'course not, johnny."

"b't... i'm..."

"what room are you in?"

"i- uh... one o' th' off'ces.... whdya mean, o'course not?"

"i wasn't going to leave you behind, johnny."

theres a short pause. soap can feel his eyes getting heavier.

"did you think i left?"

"...wel'... aye. ...sir."

"why would i-"

"mmmmsir... gettin' real sleepy."

"shit. stay awake, sergeant. keep your eyes open for me, im almost there."

"y's're?"

"absolutely certain, johnny. stay awake for me, yeah? ill be there in a few seconds."

"thou' y'left."

when the door to the office opens, he sluggishly moves for his gun, before be sees the comforting sight of ghosts mask. he drops his arm back down to his side

"lt."

ghost sounds breathless in his reply,

"johnny."

the man is by his side in an instant, quickly running his eyes over him before putting pressure on his bullet wound.

while he does makeshift medical treatment, he does his best to keep soap awake. keeps him talking. occasionally patting his cheek when his head starts to list sideways.

by the time hes done, soap is barely hanging on by a thread. he cant carry his own weight when ghost hefts him up, letting out an indiscernible mumble when he lifts him up and starts on his way out. he doesnt stay awake much longer than that- ghost is warm and hes cold, and the swaying of his gait is soothing. ghost asks him to stay awake- orders him to, borderline pleads him to- but its a losing battle. he passes out, trusting ghost to keep him safe.

later, when he wakes up in the medbay, he'll end up being asked why he didnt think ghost was coming back for him. but for now hes out like a damn light.

[reds-skull]

Revenant Side Stories

Story III: Gaz

[Konchar] [Graves] [AO3]

I worked on both this and that Ghost painting I posted earlier in the time I was away from this blog, and I apparently had enough motivation to finish both today haha

If you remember the conversation Gaz and Soap had on the helo in chapter 14 of Not Alive, Nor Dead (the one where they were talking about the worst time they've used their powers), then the events in this story might be familiar...

I enjoyed writing this so much, I absolutely love Gaz (and more specifically rev AU's version of him <3)

Alright enough yapping time for pain

Kyle should be used to the feeling of free-falling. To the air rushing past his ears, to the sting in his eyes as the ground approaches him rapidly. The pull that catches him not a moment too soon, invisible ribbons wrapping him in their safe embrace.

It was perhaps a little naive of him to think gravity will never betray him again.

The whistling wind is what wakes him first, that familiar tune Gaz made his own in the past year. Familiar, but out of place - wasn’t he just running after the HVT…?

Kyle opens his eyes.

The sky warps around him, skyscrapers higher than the heavens towering over him like giants, silhouettes in the night. His body twists uncontrollably, and his view shifts to the ground, people nothing but ants, growing larger and larger-

The sinking feeling in his gut screams one thing, and one thing only.

You’re going to die again.

Several hours earlier

“Sergeant Garrick!” someone calls from behind him. Gaz turns, expecting to have to search for the source in the pre-mission rush of soldiers. He instead instantly zeroed in on a frankly giant man. To his credit, he wasn’t expecting a soldier clad in all black tactical gear, and a stark white skull mask.

Well, only one guy in the SAS that fits this description, “Lieutenant Ghost, sir.” Gaz’s head tilts up to look at the eyes behind the mask.

He’s heard a lot about the legendary revenant, and while most are probably the works of the rumor mill working overtime, just the presence of Ghost emanates a sort of unrivalled power that raises the hairs at Kyle’s nape.

It’s unlikely any of them will see the Lieutenant in action today; he’s here to fill in for Captain Price in overwatch, but he can’t help but have a sort of morbid curiosity, a craving to know if the revenant lives up to the myth.

Ghost motions with his head for him to follow, and begins walking towards the tents that have been set up as their temporary base of operations, “Captain told me you can fly.” he begins.

Gaz smiles nervously, “uh, not exactly. I got gravity manipulation.” they enter the tent, the flurry of activity as disorienting as it is outside, with squad leaders confirming last-minute details about the mission. “Can use it on others as well, but I have to be in direct skin contact.”

“Won’t need it in this op either way,” Ghost rumbles, a somewhat bitter note in his words. A few men do a double take at the two of them, and Gaz suppresses an eye roll.

Being a revenant turned out… different than he thought it would be. Sure, he knew they had superpowers and the ability to converse with extradimensional beings, but he wasn’t ready for the staring.

He knows he’s not human anymore, that he lost a fundamental part of himself the moment he left that helo crash alive, but he doesn’t need to be reminded at any turn.

Perhaps Ghost is onto something with the mask. At least he can roll his eyes all he wants.

Ghost addresses the soldiers in the tent, everyone snapping into attention, “Sergeant Garrick will lead the infil team. Target is at the suite of the Amandi Hotel, possibly guarded and armed.” the Lieutenant scrutinizes them, “I’ll be on overwatch on the comms tower north of the hotel. Helo circles the sky in case we need to extract from the roof.”

He crosses his arms, the perfect image of authority, “any questions?”

“No, sir!” the soldiers in the tent echo.

“Good. Garrick’s team is up in 5.” Ghost’s attention turns to him, “you’ll treat the Sergeant like any other soldier - his powers are irrelevant here.”

Gaz’s eyes widen as the rest of his squad gives Ghost the affirmative. The Lieutenant leaves the tent, ordering the others, and he shakes away from his stupor. A surprisingly warm feeling spreads through his chest.

No time to wonder about Ghost’s intentions, they have a man to catch.

It takes only ten minutes for the mission to go completely off rails.

Ghost wasn’t lying when he said his powers are irrelevant here. With the narrow hallways of the hotel, and lack of loose, heavy objects around ready to be thrown, Gaz is as good as any of his human squad mates.

He grits his teeth, popping out of cover to shoot yet another henchman down. The HVT must be bloody loaded to afford this much manpower.

“Be advised Bravo 6-1, enemy reinforcements approaching your position. I don’t have a clear shot on them.” Ghost’s low voice sounds from his comms.

Gaz returns to cover when a bullet grazes his cheek, and he answers between a hiss of pain, “copy, attempting to advance to the suite now.”

“Stevenson, Ellis, take the left hallway, the rest with me!” Kyle orders the corporals. He’s betting on the fact the henchmen will be too preoccupied with their assault to notice the two soldiers flanking them.

Gaz and his team goes on the offensive, unnerved by the bullets ricocheting around them. A few fast heartbeats later, the hostiles go down with gasps of surprise. He allows himself a moment of celebration, before pushing onwards.

This is another thing he had to learn in his new second life. Turns out, the brass promotes revenants faster than other soldiers, and soon after his Reaping he was promoted to Sergeant. He will probably never forget the nasty looks he got from his old mates after that, people he thought were his friends. Sometimes Kyle wanted to scream that he didn’t ask for this, he didn’t ask to be the only one left alive.

Usually following that thought is a reminder that he very much did. He asked to live. 

Gaz knew what he was wishing for.

Stevenson and Ellis join them, and he makes sure to order most of the squad to watch their six, Ghost’s warning still fresh in his mind.

“Lieutenant, got sights on the HVT?” Gaz radios in.

The comms crackle before he gets an answer, “negative, he went to the back two minutes ago, likely holing up in the bathroom.” he can hear the faint sound of wind through his mic, “stay sharp, this might be a trap.”

“Understood, sir.” 

Gaz holds a fist up to signal the squad to stop, and attempts to listen for any movements inside the suite. Price’s mind reading abilities would’ve been nice to have around right about now…

He lets out a shaky breath. Going in blind never gets less nerve wracking, “Smith, Farage, keep watch on the hallways, Ellis, Stevenson and Wright, prepare for breach in three…”

The soldiers move to their positions, and the moment his count reaches zero, Gaz kicks the door down and begins clearing the room. Every dark corner becomes a potential hiding spot for hostiles, every flickering shadow catches his attention.

The main area of the suite is an open floor plan room, floor-to-ceiling windows making up the whole front part. The city lights twinkle through the clear glass, unaware of the danger that dwells above them.

“Main room clear, moving to the bathroom.” Gaz relays to Ghost and the rest. He lowers his rifle and reaches for the handle. The door creaks ominously when he shoves it open, revealing a dark and completely empty space. He clears it in a few seconds, all the while his confusion grows.

“Ghost” he clicks his comms on, “the HVT isn’t here.”

The Lieutenant is silent for a brief moment, “He didn’t leave the suite, Garrick. Keep searching the other rooms.” Gaz opens his mouth to give the affirmative, when he hears Wright and Stevenson give the clear for the two bedrooms. A twisting feeling in his gut grows.

“Sir, I think we’re missing something-”

Loud bangs echo from the main bedroom, Gaz instantly exiting the bathroom to watch Stevenson go down, “fuck!”

Hostiles stream out of the room in an endless swarm, the rest of his squad taking cover around the suite. “Garrick! What the fuck is going on there?!”

“Stevenson missed a bloody secret room, sir!” Gaz grunts, shooting two men down. From the corner of his eye, he sees Wright push forward, so he joins him.

A shattering sound alerts him to Ghost’s shots, “do you have eyes on the target?!” the Lieutenant’s voice echoes through comms. Another shot rings out, and a body drops to his right.

“Negative!” he answers. Smith and Farage are fighting further out, enemies forcing them back to the hallway, Stevenson motionless on the ground. Wright snarls beside him, his left arm bleeding from a graze. Ellis…

“Sergeant! Behind you!” Ghost shouts. Gaz whips around, to watch the HVT drag himself to the broken windows.

Himself, and the unconscious body of Ellis. Gaz charges forward before the HVT locks eyes with him, a manic sort of fury burning within them.

The bastard smiles at him, blood staining his bright white teeth. He heaves Ellis, dragging him right to the edge.

“You take one more step, and I drop your friend.” the target drawls. 

Kyle stops, raising his arms in surrender, mind rapidly trying to pinpoint the location of each hostile and soldier left in the room. If he could be sure his squad will be able to apprehend the HVT by themselves, he could be free to follow Ellis, and catch him before they both hit the ground.

“Alright.” Gaz swallows thickly, keeping his voice as calm as he can, “we’ll give you what you want, just let him go.”

The target’s smile widens, “tell your soldiers to drop their weapons” he shakes Ellis, Gaz’s heart jumping to his throat. He nods, slowly lowering a hand to his radio.

“All stations, hold fire, we’ve got a hostage.”

The commotion behind him stops abruptly, his soldiers murmuring in confusion but listening to him all the same. Gaz scans the HVT for weapons - a pistol at his right hip, a knife strapped to the other. As long as he doesn’t use those on Ellis, he still has a chance to save him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here.” Ghost warns, “I don’t have a clear shot, don’t doom the entire squad to save one man.”

His jaw tightens in response. He’s not going to allow any more of them to die today.

“Good” the target’s voice drips with satisfaction, “at least one of you soldier boys has more than half a brain. Now… I have other matters to attend to, so if you will leave the premises peacefully, that would be helpful.”

“Not without him.” Gaz motions to Ellis.

The HVT tsks, “do I look stupid? I know you’ll shoot my men down the moment I let him go.” his head tilts mockingly, “no, he’s coming with me.”

“Garrick…” Ghost growls. “Ellis’ chances are low. Get the HVT secure and get out.” This is taking too long.

“I prefer to have… insurance.” the target continues.

Gaz’s lips pull back in disgust, “for a cornered man, you’re asking for a lot, mate.”

“Am I cornered, though?”

The telltale click of a trigger shoots adrenaline down Kyle’s limbs, and he moves out of the bullet’s way a second before it reaches him. He grunts as he grasps at the attacker’s rifle over his shoulder, twisting it around his torso to disarm the man.

Lieutenant Ghost’s voice booms through comms, “Bravo, get your guns up! More hostiles are entering your floor!!!”

Gaz barely avoids a fist coming from his left, ducking and dodging a knee to his guts. Gunshots echo behind him, grunts and growls and screams of pain almost deafening.

Two hostiles manage to get a hold of him, and over their massive shoulders Kyle watches in horror as the target pulls Ellis up over the window’s edge, and lets go.

“Corporal Ellis is falling, I repeat, the Corporal is falling!” Ghost yells. Gaz’s heart hammers away at his chest, his breaths becoming shorter and heavier.

Through the cacophony of combat, anger and agony, one voice stands out from the rest.

The HVT’s mirthful laugh, high and grating as he watches Ellis fall down, down, down-

Gaz screams, grabbing the arms around him, and reverting gravity on all three of them. He lowers his head, avoiding the ceiling. His attackers, however, are taken by surprise, and hit their head against the concrete with a sickening thunk.

The laughter ceases, but he pays it no mind. If Gaz jumps off now, he could strengthen the effect of gravity on himself, and fall faster, reach Ellis before the ground does-

A sniper shot splices the air beside him, the bullet hitting the floor, Ghost’s voice loud when he calls out, “Gaz-!”, Kyle turning around to find the stock of a rifle approaching his face, his foot slips, and-

His vision goes dark.

He’s going to die. The wind beats at his body, howling and shrieking and stealing the air from his lungs. He’s going to die. The city lights smear and create blinding trails at his periphery.

He’s going to die.

Kyle locks onto a dark shape, several feet below him, and the fog of panic clears for long enough for him to remember why he’s falling.

Ellis. He fell before him. He’s going to die.

But Gaz won’t. His powers rush forth, otherworldly ribbons wrapping around his fingertips at his command. Instead of hanging from the sky, he orders them down.

They’re about 100 feet from the harsh asphalt roads when he starts descending at an inhuman speed, eyes watering and muscles trembling from the lack of oxygen, but it doesn’t matter, not until he touches Ellis, not until he pulls him back from certain death.

50 feet. 40. 30. 20. 10-

Kyle barely manages to brush a finger on Ellis’ tacvest before he pulls back, his face mere inches from the ground. His eyes are closed, his mouth gaping as he takes in air for the first time in minutes.

He heard the crunch. He knows his ribbons didn’t wrap around Ellis. Yet, there’s a little naive voice in his mind, holding onto hope that the Corporal has been saved.

The screams of the ground team tell him otherwise.

Kyle releases his powers, his body dropping. Voices echo around him, words unintelligible through the rushing blood in his ears.

Ellis is dead. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. You failed again, he screams at himself in the recesses of his mind.

Kyle chokes on a sob, only then registering the tears flowing down his cheeks. He curls further into himself. Selfishly, he doesn’t want the others to see his pathetic crying. Not only did he fail, he’s also weak.

Someone touches his shoulder, and he freezes. His eyes are glued to the dark grey of the road below him, its rough texture digging into his trembling palms. The voices stray closer, words still incomprehensible but concern clear, and yet he refuses to lift his head.

He doesn’t want to see Ellis. He knows what gravity does to a person, how it tugs at their limbs until they break, how bones stab at soft flesh, how muscles are ripped apart like a rag doll’s stitches. He knows, saw five different bodies, all twisted beyond recognition, by the very power he controls. The memory makes bile rise to his mouth, acrid taste spreading on his tongue. The sight of mangled soldiers, the smell of burning fuel, the whistle of an RPG.

If only he was strong enough to truly control it.

The hands tug at him more forcibly now, attempting to roll him over, but Kyle resists. His mouth tries to form words, but only whines and muted sobs stream from his clenched teeth.

‘Leave me alone’, he wants to whisper. ‘I already know I failed’.

A deeper voice rumbles above him, and the hands stop and leave. Kyle hears the rustling of fabric before the voice begins calling his name.

“-arrick. Sergeant. We need to know if you’re broken.”

He shakes his head, shoulders shuddering along his sobs.

“You’re not injured? Good.” the voice answers calmly, as if they’re not sitting beside a dead body, blood pooling, bones sticking out of place-

“Stay with me, soldier. Focus on me.” the voice orders, and Kyle knows, somewhere in his fractured mind, that he needs to listen.

He risks lifting his gaze a little towards the voice, a knee clad in dark pants coming into view, “you’re safe, Gaz. Take all the time you need to collect yourself. The others won’t bother you now.”

He nods minutely, wanting to show his gratitude to the voice, but refusing to lift his head any higher.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, and Kyle tries to keep his focus on the person in front of him, but his brain continues to pull at his thoughts, get them to drift to Ellis, his cooling body dead not 3 feet from them-

“You know why blind people don’t like going skydiving?”

Kyle blinks down at his hands. What…?

“‘Cause it scares the shit outta their dogs.”

…That’s the dumbest joke he’s ever heard. What’s dumber, that it’s actually making him huff in amusement.

“That deserves at least a little laugh.” the voice sulks, the deadpan quality of it making their words funnier to Kyle.

He clears his throat before saying, “all that deserves is a groan of disappointment, Lieutenant.”

His head lifts to look at Ghost’s dark eyes behind his skull mask, “you wound my poor feeble heart, Garrick.”

A wobbly smile spreads on his lips, before he slowly looks away from the Lieutenant at the scene around them.

They must’ve already moved the body, leaving dark red blood seeping into the cracks in the road as the only sign anything went wrong. Some combat medics have stayed behind, but from the look on their face Kyle can tell they’re too afraid of Ghost to get any closer.

He casts a questioning look at the Lieutenant, who sighs, “they shouldn’t toss you around while you’re in shock.”

Kyle frowns, “they didn’t ‘toss me around’, but… thanks.”

Ghost simply hums.

It takes him a few more seconds to gather the courage to ask, “the mission… did it fail?”

Did I make us fail?

Ghost regards him with narrowed eyes, “HVT has been secured and is in transport awaiting questioning.”

He lets out a small sigh of relief, nodding.

The Lieutenant stares at him, “you did everything you could, Gaz.” he opens his mouth to disagree, but Ghost lifts a hand, “no. Ellis was dead the moment he was captured. If I was in your position, I wouldn’t have risked the mission, the team, myself to try and save him against the odds.”

Kyle sputters, “but- I didn’t save him.”

“But you tried.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s dead!”

Ghost’s tone lowers dangerously, “it may not matter to Ellis, but to the rest of your squad? His teammates? They know you tried, and they will remember in the future that Sergeant Garrick will endanger his own life for his subordinates.”

Kyle’s eyes widen, Ghost’s voice gaining a somber tone, “you haven’t had a lot of experience in leading.” he half-states, half-asks, so Kyle shakes his head.

“The trust your men have in you is fragile, and invaluable. Today, you’ve gained something many others can’t. You have respect, the kind that is hard-earned in battle.” His eyes look away, lost in memories Kyle will probably never be privy to, “that’s why it matters.”

He thinks back to the way everyone approaches Ghost, fear and awe in their eyes, “are you talking from experience?”

Ghost’s eyes refocus on him, “my soldiers respect me because I’m powerful. They respect me out of terror, not trust.”

“Respect is respect, no?”

“None of them would risk their lives to save mine, if it came to it.” Ghost rises to his feet, “respect born of fear is weak compared to respect born from admiration.”

A gloved hand, adorned with skeletal markings, is offered to him. Kyle takes it, allowing Ghost to pull him up to his own shaky legs.

Gaz takes a good look at the grotesque mask, at the appearance that signals danger and unmatched strength. 

And at the hand in his, grip powerful enough that he doesn’t have any doubt it will catch him if he falls.

“I trust you, Lieutenant.”

Ghost freezes, before he begins walking towards the parked vehicles, “your mistake, Sergeant.”

Gaz follows, believing wholeheartedly in his words.

“I’m planning on building a task force.” Price begins the moment Gaz settles into the office chair in front of him, “a revenant-only task force.”

“And you’re inviting me?” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Don’t sound so surprised, Kyle, we both know your powers are extremely rare.”

Still, to be chosen by the Captain Price out of everyone…

“You’re giving me too much credit, son.” Price’s moustache twitches up with a hidden smirk, “I’ll take it as a yes?”

Gaz nods resolutely, “yes, sir!”

“That’s what I want to hear. Any questions?”

The words “no, sir” are ready on his tongue, but he retracts them to instead ask, “are there any other members yet?”

Price scans him for a moment, before he pulls out a folder, “you remember Ghost, I presume?”

He can see how Price clocks in the excitement in his mind, “of course.”

A warm smile crinkles Price’s blue eyes. He rises, offering Gaz a hand to shake. Gaz takes it.

“Welcome to Taskforce 141, Kyle.”

[drc00l4tt4]

But uhhhmmm literally starving for Melvinborg content,,,

Maybe some Melvinborg parent hcs with a baby? Implied x fem!reader?

Like ex: how Melvin would react to the baby teething on him or something that'd be silly *kicks legs*

This is. adorable.

I am NOT experienced with babies but I'm gonna try to do this just because its adorable and i want it.

(Also i will do your other reqs later i saw all of them and I want to do all of them ♡)

❥ He has no clue what hes doing.

❥ He can solve any math equation within seconds but he doesn't know the first thing about taking care of a baby (even though he desperately read every parent help book he could find).

❥ He jumps every time the baby cries.

⤷ Most times he can't figure out why the bean is crying and he'll start panicking.

⤷ You'd come home to him holding the small bean and desperately reading through ten different parenting forums. "Oh thank Einstein-" he'd mutter once he notices you. "I've tried everything, I-" you'd take the baby and simply start letting it feed. Immediately, the infant would calm down. Melvin would stare in disbelief and.. in absolute exasperation, he'd say, ".. Please never leave for that long again."

❥ He just stares at the infant in fascination when they teeth on his prosthetics (he hates the feeling of the baby's gums on his human skin so he usually switches the teething to his robotic hand).

❥ You once came home to him asleep in the nursery next to the baby's crib, his hair an absolute mess and his prosthetic arm stretched out on the floor, and the baby sound asleep.

❥ Doesn't do baby talk but absolutely talks as if the baby understands him.

⤷ He'd have the bean in his lap, sitting in the livingroom while you make dinner in the kitchen. When the baby babbles, he'd look down at them and go, "Really?" When the baby continues to babble, he'd lift them and have them face him. "You don't say?" He'd say, looking playfully intrigued by the babbles.

❥ He becomes a protective dad so quickly.

❥ Absolutely invents baby toys.

❥ Babyproofed the entire house including his office/lab (he can do chemical experiments and work with sharp objects in the garage [of which is disconnected from the house—aside from an underground hallway but he won't let the baby down there] instead of his office for a while).

❥ He absolutely checks parenting forums. He appreciates the other parents saying that the first child is always a bit hectic since you're figuring things out.

❥ When the baby's asleep, he absolutely praises your parenting skills.

⤷ This happens a lot when you start to look like you're doubting your parenting abilities.

⤷ He'd sleepily walk up to you and lazily wrap an arm around you after you've both successfully put the bean to sleep. "You are a perfect mom," He'd mutter, almost absentmindedly before resting his head on your shoulder. He'd feel you relax at that. He'd then add, "Don't doubt that."

❥ He isn't doing perfect himself, but he's trying <//3

Reqs are Open! | Comms

[imagines--galore]

20 (reader being the one dying), loki laufeyson, sfw (smut/lemon/lime wise)

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. So how had it all gone so wrong? Pairing: Loki x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+. Romance. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Mention of blood and near death so be warned folks. A/N: YAS! Finally! I Loki prompt! Thank you for sending it in! Also can someone say absolute devastation :3

"All clear on my end." You spoke into the comm as you gave one final cursory glance around the room before exiting. "All is well here." His voice sounded in your ear as well as from next to you. You looked up to where Loki was exited the room next to the one you had been checking. He fell into step beside you as you heard Natasha reply on the other end.

"Everything looks good from here." Natasha said from where she was monitoring from the jet. "Alright, you two head on back. I'll call Cap and tell him this mission was a bust. Probably a false lead." With that the comm went silent.

"So, how does it feel? Being in the field as an Avenger?" You asked your partner, prompting him to glance at you form the corner of his eyes, before turning his gaze to the front once more. "So long as I do not have to wear the symbol I shall be fine." He as talking about the Avengers Symbol you had very recently added to your uniform. You were proud of your status as an Avenger. It meant you were a symbol of hope for those who were oppressed or in danger.

You had explained the meaning of it to Loki ages ago.

Perhaps he thought he still did not deserve to be see as such. Not when he had wreaked havoc and disaster on Midgard a few years ago. Even though he had been under mind control, he still thought he was at fault. That he should have fought harder against the puppeteer.

You, however, begged to differ.

                                           ————————–

Ever since he had been banished to Midgard to atone for his sins by Odin, you had seen just how much he regretted the destruction he had caused.

Unintentionally but still people blamed him.

Odin had sent him here to help. To be a part of the Avengers like his brother and fight the good fight. Keep the people of Earth safe. Odin had put a damper on his abilities and while in essence he was an immortal, he could get hurt. The Avengers had not been happy about the situation. Somehow, Thor had been able to convince them that it would be helpful to have someone on their side who had intimate knowledge about the being behind the Chitauri.

And Tony, ever the person to one-up everyone around him, had stated that if they were going to allow Loki into the mix, then it would do the Avengers good to have some other members as well.

And so you had been initiated into the Avengers.

And since you had no prior history with Loki, you hadn't seen anything wrong with befriending him.

Or trying to.

At first Loki had been hell bent on being rude to everyone who spoke to him and generally being unpleasant to be around. However, you had persisted. And soon even his lonely self hadn't been able to fight off his desire to at least have someone he could call a friend on Earth.

That had been the first step, and slowly he had begun to form some form of acquaintanceship with the rest of the Avengers. There was certainly no deep conversations had between him and the rest of them, but at least the urge to kill had receded. Somewhat.

And during that time, you had been shocked to discover that you were falling for the Asgardian.

Then again, maybe the realization should've come sooner. Given how you would spend a lot of time together when neither of you had any other engagements, but when it came to your emotions concerning Loki?

They were a little difficult to categorize.

It had taken a little while before you realized the true extent of your feelings for him. And even though you knew you had them, there was nothing you could do about it.

He saw you as a friend. Nothing more.

Which sucked, but you weren't about to jeopardize your friendship with him for the sake of your feelings.

So you stayed silent.

                                           ————————–

You were on your first mission with him, and so far it had been going well.

Then again, maybe you shouldn't have even thought that.

Because at that very moment multiple figures appeared from various dark corners of the room you and Loki were going over. "We might be a little Nat. We got company." You spoke into the comm as your body dropped into a fighting stance. Beside you Loki stepped a little in front of you, as if intent on shielding you.

Of course, you could handle yourself.

But just knowing that he wanted to keep you out of harm's way was enough to make you roll your eyes at him in a fond manner.

"Lets see how many of them we can each take down." You challenged, prompting Loki to smirk as a pair of twin daggers appeared in his hands. "As you Midgardians say: Its on."

It was almost as if the both of you had rehearsed it. Every punch, dagger swipe, kick, dodge was in perfect synchronicity. You watched his back, while he kept yours safe. You were a team.

But more then that, you were protecting the man you loved. It didn't matter that those feelings were not reciprocated. You knew the truth of your feelings as well as the depth of them.

You threw a roundhouse kick, catching the last of your opponents in the jaw and sending him flying back. Landing on your feet your eyes found Loki. He was fighting off two assailants at once. And since that required his full attention, he did not see one of the already downed attackers pull out a dagger.

But you did. The weapon seemed to gleam in the dim light of the room. Your eyes widened in horror as the attacker pulled his arm back and-

"Loki watch out!"

You saw the dagger flying, saw it cutting through the air towards Loki's still turned back.

Thunk!

Loki pivoted on his feet, his eyes widening at the sight that greeted him.

You were there.

You were standing there.

You were standing where the dagger had been a mere second ago.

The dagger which was now embedded in the middle of your back.

His horrified eyes met your terrified eyes. A broken gasp fell from your trembling lips before your body shuddered. You jerked forward. His arms shot out to catch your limp body.

"Y/n!"

His voice sounded just as horrified as he looked. Pain radiated from your back spreading through your chest until every nerve in your body screamed with the pain. You felt Loki shift, which was followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. Apparently he had been taking care of his would be killer, who now lay dead with a dagger in his eye.

Loki's arms wrapped around your shoulders, keeping your body up to prevent the dagger from moving or causing any further harm.

A whimpering sob fell from your lips as you tried to keep the pain at bay. "Widow! We need evacuation immediately. Y/n's hurt!" You heard Loki all but scream at Nat on the other side of the comm. Nat's voice echoed in your ear but you couldn't really understand what she was saying.

A pitiful laugh fell from your trembling lips. "Does this mean I win?" You spoke in a hoarse voice, a weak smile playing on your lips as your eyes found Loki's.

"You stupid stupid fool! Why did you do that?" He sounded so afraid. And he looked it as well. You didn't like that look in his eyes.

Raising a trembling hand you laid it against the side of his face. "Because you're worth saving Loki." You wanted to think of anything but the pain. Anything but the darkness that now beckoned you.

And speaking to Loki kept it at bay.

"My life is not worth you giving up yours Y/n." He argued back, now sounding angry. A shudder ran through your body, prompting you to press yourself closer to Loki, as you fought through the pain. He held you tighter, his face burying in your hair as yours pressed in his chest.

"Since I'm dying, can I win this argument?" You asked your voice weak. He shook his head as he cupped your head to tilt it back, allowing your eyes to meet.

"You're not allowed to die Y/n. I forbid it." He growled at you, despite the tears shining in his eyes. You only smiled sadly. "I'm sorry we didn't have more time Loki. I'm sorry I won't be there to help you anymore."

Tears fell from his eyes as he shook his head. "No, Y/n, no don't say that." Your tears of pain turned to tears of sadness, hearing the absolute torment in his voice. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you Loki."

The darkness was starting to cloud your vision, and you could barely hold on to the light. "Tell me what?" His voice was almost desperate as he cradled you close.

"That I love you."

A final exhale of breath, before your world went dark, Loki's stricken face the last thing you saw.

And his howl of absolute anguish the final sound that echoed in your ears as you slipped into the welcoming darkness.

                                           ————————–

The first thing you became aware of was just how heavy your body felt. As someone who went on missions almost every other week, you made sure to stay in peak condition.

So why did your entire body felt like it had been run over by a truck?!

A soft moan fell from your lips as your eyes blinked open. The unfamiliar ceiling confused your already foggy mind. Where were you?

You turned your head to the side, bleary eyes hardly making out the heart monitor machine that stood at your bedside. The steady beeping sound made sense now. You shoulder felt the most stiff of all, prompting you to raise a hand to it and let out a small groan.

"Damn."

"She's awake! She's awake!"

The sound startled you to almost jump to your feet, but your body protested too much and you fell back again.

                                           ————————–

Later you learned it had been Thor who had cried out like that.

For the time being, you were surrounded by doctors and nurses, checking your vitals and explaining just how injured you were.

The dagger had managed to catch a few pivotal arteries and had nearly reached your heart.

Small miracles.

Though there had been significant blood loss, you were on the mend. It would take some time for you to recover completely, but at least there wasn't any permanent damage.

During your stay in the Hospital Wing of the Tower you hadn't been lonely for a second. Either the medical staff was around, or one of the Avengers.

All except Loki.

He hadn't been to visit you since you woke up and though Thor had told you how he hadn't left your side while you were in a medically induced coma, as soon as you had woken up he had disappeared.

At first you had been confused at his behavior, but as the memories of what you had thought to be your final moments started to come back, you began to feel a little queasy.

You had confessed to Loki.

You had told him you loved him while you bled out in his arms.

After saving his life.

What did it mean? Did his distance mean he did not feel the same way? Obviously he didn't feel the same way. But he could do the courtesy of coming to see you at the very least. You had saved his life.

So it was very quick that your sadness of not having him around turned to anger.

A week or so after you gained consciousness, you woke up in the middle of the night to feel a hand enveloping your own.

Normally you would have the person in a choke hold with a knife at their throat. But you recognized that silhouette, recognized the voice as it began to speak.

It was dark, so he didn't know you were awake as he spoke. "-fault that you're here. I should've been more aware of my surroundings." You had never heard him speak so softly before. "But when I'm with you, everything else simply fades into the background and all I am aware of is you."

You felt as if your heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was a good thing you weren't hooked to those monitors anymore. "It is absolutely ridiculous that I have become so dependent on you that I cannot imagine my life without you. Banishing me here was the single good thing my father has done by me." He admitted as you felt his other hand come up to brush a finger against your cheek.

It took every ounce of your strength to not shudder at the sensation.

"I hope one day I can accept your feelings for me Y/n. And I hope I can one day no longer be a coward and admit my feelings for you as well. You deserve so much better then me and I-

But you had heard enough.

Turning your palm over you grasped the hand that held yours and pulled yourself up in a sitting position. Only for you to throw the other arm out to catch s surprised Loki from the back of his head and pull him down to meet your lips.

There was initial shock on his part, but your lips were warm and insistent against his. It didn't take long for his lips to begin responding, albeit a lot more eagerly then your initial kiss. So much so that you were nearly laying on your bed once more while Loki hovered over you. One hand was still clasped within yours, fingers intertwined, while the other cupped your chin.

Finally, you both pulled away and your eyes met. You rather liked the dazed look he had as you smiled up at him. "Maybe you should leave it up to me to decide who I should love or not." You said firmly giving him one of your no nonsense expression.

He smiled in response, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as he nodded.

"As the Lady commands."

Before fusing your lips once more in a loving embrace.

[smolweeblets]

Through Kitty Cats And Kittens

Fade x Reader Valorant

Fade was an amazing woman. She was an incredibly formidable opponent with crazy good abilities and not to mention an incredible battle sense to go along with them. She knows just how to scheme to get her opponents to run around in circles. Not to mention how attractive she was while doing it. Her hard gaze could melt a hole right through you, and it only gets more intense when she's concentrated.

Needless to say, you have a massive crush on the woman. Everything she did just entranced you, you often find yourself having to rip your eyes away from her just to do even the simplest things in a mission.

Thats what made what you were doing now so daunting. You were instructed to knock at her quarters and inform her of something important. Her comm device was off and Brimstone needed her asap. You were just unfortunate enough to be the first agent to pass by. Curse Neon for waking you so early in the morning.

And so there you stood, in front of her door, trying to muster up some courage to knock.

Curse you and your pretty-girl-driven brain. This shouldnt be so hard, but the thought of just seeing and talking to her sent flutters up your spine.

You decided to just do it, and sent a few quick knocks.

A gruff sound you couldn't decipher (haha cypher) came from inside the room. Soon, the doors were opened and you finally got a glimpse of the woman herself.

She was wearing cat themed pajamas with cute little kittens, balls of yarn, and tiny fish littered all over her sleepwear. It contrasted with her current appearance, disheveled, messy and almost scary from how hard her gaze was. She was slightly flushed, not expecting the knock and having an agent see her in this state.

You almost gasped seeing her pajamas. She looked absolutely adorable, and you felt melting on the inside. You tried your best to gather your thoughts to form words, as she said something and was expecting an answer.

“What do you want.” She frowned.

“Brimstone has requested for you.” You scramble to answer. “It was urgent he said.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned. “Ugh, the one time I actually want to sleep…”

You smiled apologetically and were about to leave until your ears pricked when you heard a small mewl.

You looked down to the source of the sound and saw a small calico kitten trying to run out of the Turkish womans room. The woman looked indifferent but you heard her mutter a silent curse under her breath.

She scoops the little thing up. And it continues to mewl in her arms while she pet it to try to get it quiet. You notice a faint blush on her cheeks, realizing what she was wearing when she looked down to pick up the kitten.

“I didnt know pets were allowed here.” You curiously state. Your previous shyness melted when you saw the creature.

“Theyre not. You didnt see this.” The little thing yawned in her arms, making your heart melt.

“Whats its name?” You asked, looking at the kitten with a smile.

“None of your business.”

“Awwe, but its so cute, please?”

Fade sighs. “Her name is Churu.”

“Can I pet her?”

Fade looked at you incredulously, not believing that you were actually asking that.

“Please? I’ll steal you some of Cyphers expensive tea if you let me,” You look up to her hopefully. Youve seen her drink them from time to time, and youve also seen Cypher grumble about it constantly. Lately hes padded them with more security, so the offer mustve meant something.

She stares at you with that same incredulous look. She was frowning.

“God, I don't have the time for this. Just play with her in my room while I get ready for Brimstones meeting.”

Your face lit up as Fade handed you the small creature. You take her with glee, smiling wide at the cute cat in your hands. The woman quickly ushers you inside, not keen on anyone else seeing her little secret.

“Dont touch anything. Ill be out in 10 minutes at the most and so will you.” Fade sighs as she picks out a polo from her closet, planning to look at least somewhat presentable.

She enters her shower, and you take this time to take a look at her room. There wasnt much, the most notable thing was her desk area, having a pc with double monitors. Beside it was churus food and water bowls.

You played with the kitten with glee, savoring your time in your crushes room.

Wait.

You were in the room of the woman youve fell head over heels for since the moment you saw her, and you were playing with a cat.

YOU WERE IN FADES ROOM?

The realization took a while to get to you, but as it finally did, your face heat up. You were in Fades room. Fade. Probably the scariest and most closed off agent in the whole protocol. Well, probably after Viper, but that was besides the point. She just… let you in her room. Does she normally do that?

You shook your head no, she didnt, but its not like people just waltz up her door and ask to go inside. You still cant believe you did that. But you werer nothing special, the stars just aligned in your favor for the day. That or she just really wanted Cyphers tea, but either way, she let you in her room!

You could almost imagine the both of you laying on her bed after a long mission, tangled in each others bodies, indulging in each others warm embra–

“Ow!” You yelped in pain. Churu decided your finger looked appetizing and helped herself to a bite. Effectively interrupting your delusion. But to Churus disappointment, your finger was in fact, not food, and this caused her to jump when you unexpectedly moved it away.

“Yowch, that wasnt very nice of you.” You shook your hand from the pain. Thankfully, Churus teeth werent big enough to break skin yet, but damn it still hurt.

The kitten went on your lap, almost as if to apologize. But you knew that she was just finding somewhere warm to sleep after tiring herself out after a few good minutes of playing with you.

You sighed as you pet the kittens soft fur. Cats truly were the best.

Soon after Fade exits her bathroom fully dressed with her hair damp. You flushed slightly at her unstyled hair and quickly look back down on the kitten in your lap.

“Okay thats enough playtime, out you go.” Fade nods her head towards the doorway.

You pout, not keen on leaving so quickly. “Aw, okay…”

You gently set the small kitten on the floor and brush yourself out as you stand. Fade watches as Churu affectionately headbutts your leg and fights a smile.

“You can have her if you want. Saves me the trouble.” Fade offers suddenly. It really would help her. She didnt need to have Sage scold her and weaken her already little trust in her.

Your eyes widened at the offer. You werent quite sure you heard her right. Surely it would be extra work but a cat would be a great vice in this stressful job. Just imagining snuggling with the lil guy made you want to smile.

And either you were going crazy, or you saw the ghost of a gentle smile on Fades face as. It was only for a split second, but you dare not make a single comment on it. Dying was not on your to do list right now.

~~~~~

Fade stood in front of your door, small bundle in hand along with a large box by her feet, presumably containing all of Churus stuff. You quickly ushered her in and offered her a seat on your bed.

“No need, ill be out soon. Just know that you need to feed her at least thrice a day, theres an automatic food dispenser with a feed timer in the box for when we’re on missions, i personally refrain from using it otherwise because its a hassle to clean-”

Almost everything she said after that fell on deaf ears, you were just too happy to hear Fades voice. This is the most youve ever heard her talk, and you just couldnt get over how calming it was. You noticed the way her hands moved when she was enumerating all the things you needed to do and all the facial expressions she made as she though of any other advice she could give you.

Oh well, it was just a small kitten, how hard could it be? You would tackle the problems as they came. Plus, google existed.

“-You could probably get away with cleaning the litterbox every other day, since shes still small right now but its still best to do it every day just to be sure. I think thats about it, you got all that?”

You could do nothing but nod dumbly, pretending you had the slightest idea about a thing she talked about.

“...Right… Well, good luck with the little rascal. I'll be dropping by sometimes, don't think she's all yours.” Fade was halfway through the door already before you could even respond.

“Yeah, thanks again! Ill take good care of her!” You smiled as you waved.

Who would have thought you would adopt a cat in the protocol AND it would be the reason your crush visits your room!

Dear little Churu would be taken well of for sure

A/n: Holy shit tumblr user smolweeblet actually posts a serious oneshot!? More likely than you think.

This is super messy, and the ending is super open its practically begging for a part two. Dont expect one anytime soon though, still busy working on some requests, till next time you guys!

[aurorarosesposts]

{Marriage Between An Ancient and A Butler}

I lose my motivation with this, but I was determined to at least finished this first part. I wanna make more part, but like I said, I kinda lose my motivation here. I was inspired by @mortiferumsomnum so you may notice the name Clockwork uses. Anyhow, hope you enjoy!!

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

Alfred Pennyworth is a private man.

He like to keep things to himself, especially his private life. All the relationship Bruce knows about is Alfred's daughter, Julia Pennyworth; his interactions with his daughter were straind to say as least. Maybe that's why Bruce didn't pry more then what he knows from Alfred. Last thing he need is bring more distress to his perso-father then he needs to. Alfred may not say it, but taking care a family of vigilants has got to take a toll.

Besides, his kids would never forgive him if anything happens to Alfred; and to be honest, neither does he.

So when he heard that his butler got married, well, surprise is an understatement. All the times Alfred went on vacations should have raise some red flags but like he said, Bruce doesn't wanna prayed. He just assume that he's spending time with his daughter.

[He really should have known, he knows that he only has Julia and even she's busy on most day. Bruce just assume that it's for himself, which is true.]

[Oh, if only he knew.]

=========

It all started on a normal monday in Gotham, with a attack in a park. Ah, nothing to start your day them a rouge attack. That's Gotham for you.

But that's where things get complicated.

Batman was dispatch alongsides Robin in order to help Signal with the new threat. The new threat was a meta with a weird obsesssion of boxes.

Bruce is very sure it was a meta when he's flying around yelling about boxes. Batman doesn't fight in broad daylight but there's no way Bruce would let Duke fight it alone. Now if only this meta wasn't so slippery. He was force to call backup.

"Now you y'all will face my wrath, mortals!" the Box man said, throwing more and more boxes at them. "How many boxes does this guy have?!" Red Hood yelp, almost falling face -helment- first to the ground. Batman grunted, he can't help agreeing with Red Hood. He and Spoilers were there to provied help, but the meta's stamina is unmatched.

Even Damian was getting tired. Hell, HE, the BATMAN himself felt tired; that's an understament, he's fucking exhausted.

But he has to focus, unless he wanted to be six feet under. If only they knew the meta weaknesses, but he seem to have most of J'onn abilities. Duke and Steph were distracting the box craze man as he, Damian and Jason stop and catch a break; they need to figure out a plan to stop this meta. He's not hurting anyone -besides their egos- but he's still is an unknown and Bruce isn't taking any chances.

He tap into his comm.

"Oracle, what do we know?" Bruce sighed. He really need a hot bath after this. He could hear keys smashing on the other end. Not good.

"Nothing, Batman. Absolutely nothing! There got to be something but I couldn't find anything matching the meta's description. I'll keep looking, but until then-" more key smashing, "- you're on your own," she ended the statement with a heavy sigh. Crap, not good at all.

"Tell Red Robin to take over comms, Oracle, and you keep searching," he ordered. Tim was bench due to an injury he got from a previously protrol. He could take over while Babs search for any infomations about the situantion and weaknesses that the meta has. Just then, his youngest son shouted; "Father, Signal and Spoilers are losing their strength. We must help them!" Robin pointed to where both vigilants and the man went.

"So what'cha we waiting for? Let's go!" Red Hood was already running to the direction they went. Batman nodded to his Robin and they went after Red Hood.

But he felt something bad pooling in gut. Bruce hope it's just his worries.

[He shouldn't have just listened to his mind.]

=========

Alfred Pennyworth is a private man.

That in itself should not so surprising considering that not a single person in his little family of crime fighting vigilants/detectives nor his estranged daughter knew that he gotten' married to an inmortal and Ancient Being name Horatio Clockwork. The fact that he added his own name as his last name is so dumb that it worked. Just how Mister Kent do with his glasses.

Either way, he is not changing his last name with his husband.

Alfred is on a day off, as Master Bruce wanted him to rest for awhile; he thinks he's spending time together with Julia, but she's busy so he's spending time with his husband instead. Spending time with his beloved as he talked nonsense all while walking on the sidewalk, hands interwinds with each other.

"I'm telling you, I do loved the boy, not that I'll admit it in front of him, but he's getting on my nerves. I swear his doing it on purp-" Horatio cuts mid sentence as he saw that Alfred stopped dead on his track, looking at a window to a tech shop.

"Alfie? You okay?" He asked.

Both lovebirds stopped and watched as the TVs displays the lastest rouge attack. But it isn't the regular rouge or some random wannabe villain.

Both of they're eyes wided as they realized the Box Ghost- aka Boxy, is in Gotham, in broad daylight.

Horatio's eyes flases red, silently in rage that Boxy was here. He thought that Danny told them to leave the mortal plane alone. "Oh he's getting soup alright," Horatio snarled. He knows that Danny is having a vacation, so they're going to have to take care of this mess.

He walks to the direction Boxy heading, silently fuming and cursing said ghost in all the colorful language he could think of. Holding Alfred's hand as gentle as can be, they head out. Alfred sighs; married to an Ancient Being who is also the mentor of The Ghost King Of The Infinate Realm does has some downside. Guess their get-together could be postponed to another date.

[Although, he must admit, Horatio being mad is kinda hot.]

[He loves his husband alright, sue him.]

=========

"Uhhh...guys. I see Alfred on the camera, he's on the pathway of the meta-" a barrage of curses and yelling can be heard.

"WHAT-"

"ALFRED?! WHERE IS HE?-"

"DRAKE! WHERE IS PENNYWORTH?!-"

"OH FUCK WHA-"

Bruce was horrified; his butler, his father, is heading throws danger. "Tim, find the way to warn Alfred. Now," Bruce growl.

He can't lose him. He can't lose another-

"B, the cameras' busted! I can't see him! I'm sending you the coordinates now!"

Fuck.

Jason was sprinting throws the location given. Bruce and Damian hot on his heels. The three of them rounded a corner to a dimly lit hallway. This reminded Bruce when he was young-NO-

NONONONONONONONONO-HE CAN'T- HE- HE CAN'T LOSE ANOTHER!

Not again- Not-

In a middle of the damp hallway is Alfred, and a man. The man has mid length white hair, he's wearing a purple sweater with some sort of pattern on it. He stood there, calm and quite; while Alfred was standing beside him, hands on the man shoulders, talking to the man with hush tones and is unharmed. Bruce sighed, he's safe and sound. Maybe the man Alfred with was a friend of his.

"...Sir, are you okay?" Bruce called out, hand reaching out. As much as he would like to call his name, he's still Batman and he can exposed himself to the man Alfred with.

Both men turned around. Jason gasped, Damian's eyes wided behind his mask; he could hear the shouts of others on the comms, asking if they're alright. Bruce didn't answered.

Alfred was unharmed, but the man's eyes flashes a bright red, almost like he's about to blast them with his lazer. But that's not the shocking part; it's what the man said next that truly take them out by surprise.

"My beloved, stand back." The man snarled at them, unaware that he just threaten his husband's son and grandsons.

Jason's words described perfectly about the situation.

"What the fuck???"

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

That's all there is! I kinda lose my motivation there. But! If you guys can add to this, that'll be amazing! I really want to know where you takes this!!! Anyway, hope you like it and have a great day!(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

[starryswitchy]

✨ if BTS were the bridge crew of a Star Trek ship ✨

I have spent an absolutely u n h i n g e d amount of time on this

setting this in the 2370s, on a Lotus Flower class starship (bc how could I not?) with an exploration mission LET'S GO

Captain Kim Namjoon (obviously). A Bajoran, deeply philosophical & anti-imperialist. Top of his Academy class, just made Captain. USS Bangtan is his pride & joy, but his real devotion is to his crew, especially his 7-man bridge crew. His typical uncool Captain hobby (they all have one) is reciting poetry.

XO Commander Jung Hoseok, 2nd in command. Human, curious & deceptively hardy. Joon's details guy. Runs the crew with an effective combination of terrifying strictness & genuine love. Might close his eyes & hold on tight during ship maneuvers, don't call attention to it. Idolised by the junior bridge crew.

Chief Engineer Min Yoongi. Human, but raised Caitian (his parents were Federation citizens living on Cait, he went to Caitian nursery and school, had all Caitian friends and babysitters). People find him impossible to read; this is partly by his design & partly bc his body language is literally catlike. Genius engineer who secretly loves being relied on for miracles, but complains constantly. Very protective. The earpiece is so he can listen to music while he works; you know things are really fucking serious if he takes it out.

Chief Medical Officer Lt. Commander Kim Seokjin. His job consists of saving lives and yelling at people for being excessively heroic. The only one who can overrule Joon, if medically necessary. Enjoys spending time on the bridge making unhelpful jokes. Has ALL the best holosuite programmes. Told half the ship that the old-fashioned glasses are just for show because he likes the vintage aesthetic and the other half that they've got state-of-the-art micro-scanners for instant diagnostic information relay. Actually he's short-sighted but doesn't want to tell his patients he hasn't gotten around to getting that fixed yet.

Chief Comms Officer Lieutenant Park Jimin. Human-Betazoid, with empathetic psychic abilities. The ship's literal mood-maker. Adores his job, which he sees as "getting the whole galaxy to like him". Absolutely fantastic at first contact. Inseparable from Tae; they were the only two half-humans in their Academy class. Jimin had a harder time at school, despite not standing out so much visibly, and has absolutely flourished now he's found his place.

Chief Tactical Officer Lieutenant Kim Taehyung. Human-Orion & more than willing to use anti-Orion prejudices to manipulate situations. He plays up his sexy, sultry, vague persona, but his crew knows he's exceptionally hard to deceive or outmanoeuvre. Deadly loyal, especially to Jimin. Has a reputation for bending the rules, but it's hard to argue with his results.

Helmsperson Ensign Jeon Jungkook. Vulcan, very physically strong, mildly confused by everyone. Ace pilot, set Academy records in piloting & martial arts. It's his first day on the job, first ship, first crew, & he's so determined to impress his hyungs he's kinda scaring them!

[atomicwrongs]

I don't care about whether or not you do anything with this but your post about Blinky and Nibbly going to see Saw X caused my own head cannon.

I've been replying Carrion recently, it's an indie game where you're the monster of a horror movie, I think it's a metroidvania.

Anyway, my point is that I think that Blinky and Nibbly would really like it. A big part of it is eating people and it has the blood that Blinky likes. I think that they would have very different play styles though.

Nibbly would fully go on the offensive, trying to kill everything asap, not caring about health. Meanwhile, Blinky would play it like I play it. Like an ambush predator. Hiding in little areas only to reach down to kill someone, dragging people into water so the corpses are persevered for emergency health. I think Blinky would use parasitism a lot, controlling soldiers to gun down random people and then reaping all the rewards. Nibbly would not care if he is at full health and consume every corpse they make, and the first time he encounters an enemy that can't be eaten he spends 10 minutes trying.

So yeah, there's a fun little hc you inspired

Sry if this is too long.

THIS IS TRUE AND REAL!!! Carrion has been on my radar for a while, I love goopy oozy gory stuff and I like the idea of playing as the monster.

HCs under the cut, what if these eldritch entities of chaos and reasonless malice were also gamerrrrs :3

Blinky is a completionist and a huge backseat gamer. It's sitting behind Nibbly watching him ram himself at a roadblock, trying to brute force it, and it's seething because he's doing it wrong. Blinky needs to experiment with every ability and mechanic, and needs at least 5 playthroughs of a game to feel satisfied, but Nibbly full-offenses its way through the entire thing and says 'That was fun :)' and never picks it up again. Big 'never blocks/dodges in soulslikes'/'never uses status moves in pokemon' vibes.

But of course, they both have a brother who's an expert at toys and games, and has a large collection of time-looped victims to throw into the meat grinder over and over! With Tinky's help, they can play the real thing, and he's happy, because he loves a good game, especially one that's deeply distressing for everyone else involved.

As for the other LiB gaming, you know Pokey eats rhythm/dance games for breakfast. It also pretends it's above gaming, those petty mortal trinkets are below it, but give it a beautiful soundtrack and it changes its tune (literally). He'll sit next to one of his brothers for an entire playthrough, eyes closed, just listening to the soundtrack.

I'm not sure on Wiggly but I feel like he'd play Tycoon games and 100% them in, like, an hour. Grabs something like Gamedev Story, locks in, and maxes out his in-game studio in record time, then tosses it aside and plays something else. INCREDIBLY grumpy when interrupted. Picks up management sims and runs them like the navy.

Tinky, conversely, plays life sims/sandbox games and runs them like a Hieronymus Bosch painting. Others have said it, but he absolutely sets his Sims on fire/puts them in the pool and removes the ladder, reloads the save, and does it again.

Nibbly loves those old flash games where you just eat and get bigger, and the bigger you get the more things you can eat. It's not a fan of cooking games (from Cooking Mama to things like Papa's Pizzeria) because he gets mad that the food isn't real, but I think he'd dig Bugsnax, I dunno.

Blinky likes blood and guts, gorgeous visuals, games with lots of secrets/collectibles, and multiplayer games where it can troll and get people to rage. A game needs at least two to keep its attention. I can also imagine it running multiple games at once because you know it can't focus on one thing at a time; it has idle/clicker games in one tab, shiny hunting in another, skill grinding in another...

And Webby plays cozy story-driven games where choices matter. She likes to find micro-indie visual novels online, and always comments something nice after playing. Her brothers absolutely give her shit for being a 'fake gamer' because she loves Animal Crossing and puzzle platformers.