#civilian me damn what a gal

[ddarker-dreams]

non-American here 🫠 how are you gals faring? Honestly can't believe this is happening - but here we are. From what I've gathered, you help people and plan to keep doing so; so I just wanted to see how you've been doing ❤️

in the past week as i've been processing things, i think what i've come to realize is that i'm not surprised.

the reality is that the material conditions for everyday folk don't ever see meaningful improvements, regardless of which party is in power. neither of them have any incentive to do so, since they both just represent different (and sometimes the same) factions of the ruling class.

the democrats have always been an embarrassment but the decisions they made leading up to the election are like. genuinely mindboggling to me. bringing the clintons out of the cryochamber, flaunting endorsements from war criminals like the cheneys, out conservative-ing conservatives when it comes to the border, changing the stance on fracking, and potentially most damning to people in my age range, absolutely refusing to condemn israel on any level for its genocide in gaza. all they were missing was a lin manuel miranda 2024 rendition of we didn't start the fire.

i don't think there's any redeeming the neoliberalism the democrats extol, but at the same time, if voting was a way to make significant changes, we wouldn't be able to do it. i don't feel all doom and gloom about it, though. i'm hoping that the past year of watching democrat governors send in police to brutalize peacefully protesting college students, videos from civilians in lebanon and palestine, along with the planet reaching unheard of temperatures will get people to recognize something different must be done.

[msfcatlover]

(Red Hood!Steph, out in civilian clothes stopping into a local cafe or coffee shop or something, getting to the front of the line, and starting to place her order...)

Duke, somewhere behind her: "Steph?"

Steph, freezing up: Please be wrong, please be wrong, please be wrong—

Duke: "For fuck's sake... I know it's you, Stephanie. I can see right through you."

Steph, under her breath: "Shiiiiiiiiiiit..."

Steph, turning around: "What do you want, Duke?"

Duke, pointing at the menu over the counter: "Sugar & caffeine. What are you doing here?"

Steph: "Sugar & caffeine."

Steph: "I mean, I'm getting—"

Steph, throwing up her hands: "Can't a gal order brunch in peace?"

Barista, clearing their throat: "Um, are you going to finish or...?"

Steph: "Yes! Sorry about my friend, he's so rude sometimes."

Duke, immediately: "You know, you're right. Here, let me pay for your order to make up for it."

Steph: "You're not buying your way into this conversation, Duke."

Duke, pulling out his wallet: "I'm not trying to. Can't a guy do a nice thing for an old friend?"

Steph, hissing: "I hate you so much."

Duke, grinning: "I know, sister. Believe me, I know."

(Duke steps out of line, and stands next to Steph while she waits for her order.)

Steph: Don't talk, don't talk, don't talk—

Duke: *opens his mouth*

Steph: "Don't."

Duke: *closes his mouth, looking offended*

Duke: "I was just going to say it was good to see you, damn."

Steph, snorting: "Sure, and I'm secretly a redhead. Pull the other one, asshole."

Duke: "No, really. I mean, shit Steph, you... it's been fucking years—"

Steph: "It's been three weeks."

Duke, undeterred: "—since I've seen you like this. You know, out and about? You... you look good."

Steph, rolling her eyes: "Yeah, beats rotting in a fucking coffin, that's for sure!"

Duke: "Seriously?"

Steph: "What?"

Duke: "Can we have one normal conversation?"

Steph: "What would that even look like, Duke? 'How are your charities going?' 'Great, how's being a crime lord?' 'Oh, you know, same old same old. Got stabbed last week, but it's healing nicely.'"

Duke: "How about, 'Hey, it's good to see you! Wow, it's been so long! How are you? Did you do something new with your hair?'"

Steph: "We've covered all of that."

Duke: "Not all of it."

Steph: "Huh?"

Duke: "Did you do something new with your hair?"

Steph: "Oh yeah. I've been soaking it in the blood of my enemies."

Duke: "Ah, the Bathory treatment. Classic."

[calbeloved]

Trick or Treat!!!!

I'm going to ask about my guy Johnny, but knowing that's unlikely Arthur is the backup <3

hiiii factorial :333 just for you a little thing about johnny i wrote specifically for this AND a wip of an arthur pov from a Thing (that i haven't worked on for. a long time now. it's also an au. obviously.) i hope i did johnny justice shsh he's such a guy i adore him

---

In retrospect, maybe working for the Order did give him something good. No matter how it came along… a reason to live; some task he has to do before he dies is what he was looking for.

…technically. Relatively.

It… maybe was?

But in his defense, there really isn't a lot an orphan with nothing to his name can do after being kicked out of a place he once called home on the day of his 18th birthday.

Johnny was good in the Order. Not perfect (oh, he was far from that) and not the best and a lot of times more of a burden and an annoyance than not, but… He did his job. He saved some people. Pushed some civilians out of harm's way.

He just wasn't good enough. He understands that. He knows that was always how it was going to end. Too much blood on his hands, too much stupid things he said without thinking, too much impulsive decisions, too little work done correctly.

He's just surprised they only moved him to do undercover work.

He should be dead. Or fired. Or… whatever the Order does with their ex employees.

Instead, he's sitting in an apartment (a nice, warm place without any mold- maybe it shouldn't be as surprising as it is, but Johnny still dreams of a room too small, filled to the brim with little kids sleeping all around him; so overwhelmingly hot yet so cold, with the cold breezes of wind coming in from windows that could never truly close) on a bed, in a room that's his.

It's still weird to think about. Naluti is still cooped up in his own room (two whole rooms are inside the apartment!); even when Johnny was cooking dinner, he didn't come out. Just murmured something from behind his door that Johnny took as a “I'll make my own food later".

That's whatever. It's not like he cares about the guy. They just have to work together. Just like he did before with every other person in the Order.

…and yet.

On the laptop open in front of him is a tutorial on how to make a flamingo in origami. Around him are countless other origamis; unfinished works that he deemed unsalvageable and paper cranes and butterflies and fortune tellers…

Is it embarrassing? He doesn't know. It probably is.

His hands shake and he knows… Ruben? his housemate doesn't like it when he keeps his hands occupied with a gun, and all online articles say to do something repetitive and calming and how hard folding paper can really be?

…it is a little bit.

Most of the papers around him are not in his hands because he messed up with them.

But he'll be damned if this flamingo doesn't come out perfect. He's been rewatching the tutorial for hours and the pink scraps of paper on the floor are telling just how long he's been on it.

…maybe he could give it to Rubens (Natuli /Rubens,/ that's the name, he /knew/ he could remember it) when he's done. No point keeping all of this to himself, right?

---

^ (inspired by me getting into origami again... id like to think he'd enjoy it and maybe do some with rubens when they'd get closer.... they're just sooo)

----

and have a littleee piece of the wip of arthur now; it's an au where gal is imprisoned in the order but shrinks into a child instead (simply because i like time stuff) and one of the things im very 💥💥💥💥 about

---

There's now a commotion behind him- someone screams something, someone runs out of the room, someone does something, someone, someone…

Arthur does not pay attention to it. He drops to the ground and with wide eyes (where, where, where-) looks.

…Under the bed is a child. It's a small child, chest heaving with sobs while trying to make themselves as tiny as possible. They're bleeding, covered in bruises, and-

Oh God.

And then- hands on Arthur's shoulders, pulling him away; screaming again, so much screaming-

There is a child on the floor, crying and trying to hide away, they're hurt and- he needs to help, why are people pulling him away, this isn't right, this isn't-

“Stop! Stop, stop, wait-!” He screams- sees the child flinch, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, just wait-

It's Dante. Of course it's Dante. Gray hands dig into his skin, dragging him up and away- “Arthur! What's going on?!”

But he cannot answer, he can't- this kid needs him, why are they hurt, why are they here-

Somewhere further away, someone shouts. “Where is he?!”

Footsteps on the floor; running… That's Joui, Arthur knows Joui…

And there's a gun- there's a lot of guns, a lot of weapons-

“Stop! Just stop! Be quiet!”

They do- at least enough for Arthur to think, even through the fast breathing (just Dante, he can always recognise Dante…) in his ear.

He shrugs out of Dante's grip, crouches down again, ignores Joui- he's so angry, so, so angry again…

“Hey, hi,” he half whispers, half saps out. Kids. He knows how to deal with kids. Kids are easy. “I'm sorry, everyone here is very loud, huh? You're okay, nobody is going to hurt you…”

The kid looks at him; teary eyes, bloody nose, biting their hand to keep quiet…

Joui crouches down next to him. He takes in the sight and glances at Arthur with wide eyes. “Arthur.”

There's something that he's supposed to get from that tone. He knows that. But… there's a kid, how can he focus on anything else?

[thedevilscarnival]

Karin for the character ask game :)

yesssss thank you >:3

This thing got really, really long, so her character analysis will go under a cut. F&H's writing is just that good LMAO

Sooo, Miss Sauer... She's quite the gal, isn't she? I adore her, really. You take a person who sees so much injustice in the world and wants to do something about it, but, due to her upbringing and the fact she hasn't truly experienced hardship in her life... (yes she was kidnapped, but she had a relatively normal childhood despite The Dread of being raised on ransom) She does. Not know how things work. At all. Karin's the type of girl to chastise the powers that be and then use said powers to her advantage when they benefit her and not realize that's what she's doing. Her civilians arrest dialogue where she says she'll relish in the player being sent to Bohemia's notoriously inhumane prisons sticks out to me a LOT.

But she genuinely loves people. She loves people so fucking much and puts herself through absolute hell to "save" them. Unfortunately, she's gotta put people into boxes of "deserving" and "not deserving" or she'll go god damn insane. So she's biased, people fall through the cracks, and despite it being her worst fear there is a reason journalists like her are called "vultures".

Anyway, rant aside, ships. I enjoy Karin/Olivia because Karin needs to be dominated by someone she initially thought she'd need to protect. Go have your worldview shattered by the freaky gun fetishist who has terrible bdsm etiquette and masquerades as a Normal Girl to hide her pent up envious rage of her sister. Karin/Levi also appeals to me, but more in a way where they'd REALLY enable each other but not realize that's what's happening. Levi'd 100% fall into her Valkyrie complex and I love examining when characters go wonky.

I don't care for Daarin though. It can be good (and I've seen it be very good! Ao3 user Bobsledhostage's fic "Remaining Routine" is an excellent example of how that type of mutual spite-filled codependency can work), but a combination of it being... so common, and Karin's genuine hatred of Daan being flattened down to a "haha the wife hates her husband isn't it funny???" type beat has left me soured on it. But this game has phenomenal writing and literally every single character dynamic has potential so its a very minor, and very fandom heavy misgiving.

I'll die on my hill that Karin's not a natural blonde. It makes insane amounts of thematic sense for her character and is one of the few ways I'll be interested by Daarin, with Daan once again gravitating to a brash, black haired woman who steps all over his boundaries.

Let's see, let's see... Fanfictions... Well. I am. currently, in the process of writing a Karin/Olivia sm*t fic, but that's been on the backburner for a couple of. Months. By this point. But know it does exist. And it is emotional.

She's loud bird to me. If she were a Pokémon she'd be a yellow Squawkabilly, or perhaps a Mandibuzz if I wanted to be really evil.

I believe that's it. I love Karin a lot. I really, really do. She's an amazing character from an amazing game who reminds me so much of myself when i was 14 it's physically painful.

I hope she finds more empathy in the world.

[indigosabyss]

Canon Event Maintenance: A Gwenpool in BTSV fic

Gwen Stacy stared at the small group they had managed to amass. Compared to the hundreds of Spider-People Miguel had on his side, they weren't much, but they had potential.

"Okay, first thing we need is resources and allies." She announced, "We don't want to bring in anyone who doesn't know about the multiverse, or get them involved if you don't think they should, but if there's anyone you know who might lend us a hand, please get us in contact with them."

There was silence as all the Spiders thought this over. Because of course none of them had a solid support network. They were Spiders. Maybe Miguel was right about all that canon event stuff, even if the murder was unjustified.

It was Peter B who raised his hand, looking incredibly reluctant.

"I think I know a gal." He admitted, face twisted into a grimace, "And she would be really eager to join in on this."

"...Okay, so why's your face doing that thing?" Pavitr asked.

"Yeah! What's the catch, buster?" Spider-Ham cocked his head.

"There's nothing wrong with her! She's a wonderful kid. Just... well, you'll understand when you meet her."

In dimension 616-B, the Spider-Band stood at the top of a skyscraper, looking at the cars milling down below. Not a single building was close enough to parkour jump from, so how this mystery person was supposed to get there... Peni didn't know.

And another thing. Peter was being very evasive about the details. They didn't even know her name! But he promised that she was trustworthy, and the entire band had to take him at his word.

"Where even is she, mate?" Hobie asked, looking around impatiently, "We're nearing the agreed time, and there's no sign of her."

"Give it a sec." Peter shook his head, rocking Mayday a little in her sleep. Then, he took a slow, deliberate step to the right, just as a white hole ripped into the air above him and a figure dropped down. She was a white girl, wearing a pink civilian hoodie with a baseball hat under the hood. Her eyes were obscured by purple sunglasses that didn't seem to match her style, and had one hand shoved into the pocket of her shorts. The other one was lazily holding a unsheathed katana, with a pink handle.

Before anyone could comment, she was already talking, "Hey, Peter, what's the sitch that got you to finally call me up for a teamup? I---" She froze, finally noticing the other extradimensional spider-people all standing there. Peni had the dreadful realization that Peter had not told her anything about the spider-verse when calling her.

And then an excited grin stretched over her face.

"Oh. My. Marvel. Gods." She pulled off the sunglasses to reveal blue eyes, throwing them to the side, where they got swallowed up by another white rip in reality as if it was a normal occurrence, "This is a Spider-Verse event."

What? How'd she known that? Everyone exchanged discomfited glances, except Peter, who nodded gratefully, "Oh, good, so you're already filled in and everything. I was hoping you would be."

"Uh? Duh." The strange girl rolled her eyes, hopping excitedly in place, "Wow. Wow. I'm important enough to be in a Spider-Verse event. Except... damn, this is just a fic, so does it really count?"

Pavitr was making chopping motions, trying to get them to quit the meeting. Peni had similar doubts. Who was this girl? And how much could she really help?

"I'm getting ahead of myself!" She laughed, "Let's start from the beginning. One last time." Another giggle as she took a quick step back and... vanished? For barely a millisecond, and it was only SP//DR's keen sight which told her that, because then she was back, dressed in a pink and white battle-grade leotard, with leather pouches and guns strapped all over her. There was a mask, but it was clutched in her hand, allowing them to see shoulder-length blond hair tipped with pink that, combined with her skin tone and blue eyes and overall color pallette made her look a lot like... Gwen.

Everyone's eyes drifted to the woman in question, and Peni knew they were all thinking the same thing. Peter's contact took a sweeping bow, "Hello, then! My name's Gwen Poole! I can manipulate reality as well as the Scarlet Witch can!"

Huh. Well, okay then.

----

Author's Notes:

Might do a part two if you guys enjoy. Seen a lot of people thinking about a Gwenpool in the Spider-Verse movies cameo, but not enough fics to solve that problem. By which I mean any. I haven't seen any fics. Pls tag me if theres a tumblr fic like this. Characterization is a little off bc Gwen P. is too excited to think straight. Her media awareness and the mechanics of it will be built up further, but lets just say she knows she's in a fic, but not in which fandom its for, so reacting to it like a comic teamup.

Also. Those were indeed Kate's sunglasses she was wearing.

[mixing-bowl-of-stories]

OMG I'm so excited to see the drawings of all the characters!!!! For a prompt for the group;

"Where the hell did you come from?"

The Crux (Pt. 2)

In which a group of odd individuals meets another group of odd individuals.

The group of seven had been traveling together for a few weeks now, and they had gotten to know each other, for better or worse.

Natasha and Nico had grown quite accustomed to the other four, however Nathaniel was not as open to becoming friends.

Nathaniel stops walking alongside the group, “Seriously?! Pandora, we can’t stop and help every single village we see!”

The others stop and look at Nathan. As much as he hated to admit agreeing with the prick, Noah agreed that he had a point. He puts a hand on Pandora’s shoulder.

“He’s right, Pan. We’re going to waste all of the energy we need if we keep doing this.”

She swats his hand off of her shoulder, looking over at the others with a stern and frustrated look.

“Fine, if you all don’t want to help me, then fine. But I am never going to turn my back on the people that need me.”

She continued walking without the others, Noah begins following her at first, and reaches out, but draws his hand back and stops.

“Dumbass.” Nathan mumbles.

Noah turns and gives him a look that could’ve killed.

“What? You know I’m right. She’s wasting her time.”

“She may not know how the world works, but she’s not stupid.”

“She is if she thinks that everyone is going to sing her praises.”

“You both are wrong.” Natasha intervenes.

Nathan scoffs “How?!”

“Because she doesn’t want people to sing her praises Nathan. If you had actually spent the time to get to know her, you would’ve known that she hates attention and shies away from it.”

He rolls his eyes.

“And Noah, she does know how the world works, you know that better than I do. Just because she has a good heart, good intentions, and the most compassion I’ve ever seen in a person, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how things in the world work.”

“But she is naive.”

“I’m not arguing that she’s not! I’m arguing that you both are making her out to be someone she isn’t! Now then, are we all just going to sit here and let her kill herself or are we going to help?”

Ambrose and Constance look at each other before nodding, Nico also nods, Noah reluctantly agrees, and Nathaniel says no.

“Fine, suit yourself, but do us a favor and keep watch over the outer area of the town.”

“Fine. Just go.”

Several shots are heard by the civilians, as they see a young woman helping them to kill the monsters.

After some time, all of the monsters have long since died or fled the area.

Pandora hears some slow clapping from behind her. As she turns around, she sees an old woman, dressed in black cowboy attire, with bright yellow eyes peering back at her.

“You’re not too bad with your gun, toots.” The woman says.

“Oh… yeah I’m not nearly as good as my siblings though-“

“Honey.”

“Yes…?”

“Take the compliment.”

“Okay…”

“Anyways, with what you just said, I’m assuming guns are a family affair with y’all?”

“Well of course, my mother is the one who made them after all.” She smiles.

“Ohh, you’re Lady Diana’s daughter. I was wonderin’ why you looked so noblely. Well then, needless to say I’ve got a lot of respect for y’all up in Morgana.”

“Really? But you’re-“

“From the borderlands? Yes ma’am. But I’ve always had respect for y’all because Morganians are the originals. The borderlands wouldn’t have guns without y’all.”

“Oh, I guess that’s right.”

“That being said.” The woman approaches her and holds out her hand.

“Name’s Barbara Monroe, it’s a pleasure to meet you hon.”

Pandora shakes her hand.

“I’m Pandora, Pandora De La Dáinn.”

“Ah you’re the youngest. So tell me, what’s little miss noble gal doin’ all the way out here?” She jokes.

“Well, I’m not sure if you keep up with Morganian news, but I’m looking for my brother.”

“Oh damn, He’s still missing?”

Pandora nods solemnly.

“Well, maybe I… could see about helping you out. I know people all over the place. Besides, me and my partners are trying to find some purpose and that could maybe help.”

“Thank you very much Barbara, I think I’d appreciate that greatly. So… who are your partners?”

Barbara smiles, and then turns around and yells for someone. Two similarly dressed people to her step out from behind a house. One is also in typical cowboy attire while the other looks more like a southern belle.

“Lookit what I found Chance!”

“What? A noble?”

“No you dumbass, a purpose. This young lady is on an adventure of her own, and she’s okay with us traveling with her.”

“Honey are you sure? I mean these two argue till they’re blue in the face.” The southern belle mumbles to her.

“It’s okay. I already have a bit of that myself with two of my traveling companions…”

“Ah… I see, anyways, my name is Amelia Hayes (or Boone), you can just call me Amy.”

“A pleasure to meet you! I’m Pandora.”

Barbara elbows the man next to her, he sputters out an apology and introduces himself, “I’m Chance, Chance Boone.”

“Pandora!” A familiar voice yells. She looks behind her to see almost all of her group behind her.

“Ah… and that’s my group…”

“You don’t sound too thrilled about it.” Barbara mentions.

“We had an argument just before I got here, so…”

Constance runs up to Pandora, “Are you okay? I know you can handle yourself but that was a lot of monsters!”

“I’m okay Connie. Um… do you guys care if we add some more members to the group?” She smiles nervously.

After a brief explanation of who the three borderlands dwellers are and why they’re here, the group agrees with the acceptance of them into the group.

Natasha shifts uncomfortably, “Nathan probably won’t be happy…”

“Who cares what Nathan thinks, he’s a dick.”

“Noah.” Ambrose looks at him.

“What?!”

He sighs, “You haven’t exactly been non dickish either.”

He scoffs before looking away and crossing his arms.

Pandora leans over to Amy, “About that “I already have a bit of that in my own group” thing…”

“Definitely see what you mean…”

The group grabs a quick bite to eat at one of the local taverns, and then sets off to begin traveling once more.

And no.

Nathan was not happy.

[north-peach]

Me: *writes three sentences on Almighty* doo doo do do doooo~

Me: *writes three more sentences on Almighty* Oh boy, golly! Look at that, a whole paragraph!

Wolf: *kicks down door* Yo, let's brainstorm this S and D Tier Bleach crossover in your doc for the next solid hour!

Me: Okay!

@wolfsrainrules

[ground-zero-idiocies]

What Fallout 4 Companions Order at a Diner

Codsworth:

Assuming he could eat anything, he’d go simple. 2 sunny-side up eggs and a cup of English tea.

Curie (synth form):

Almond croissant slathered in Nutella. Piper wishes she thought of this combo first.

Cait:

Ironically, a Full English Breakfast. She’s a hungry gal, and just one form of cured pig is not enough!

Deacon:

Two pancakes with margarine and exactly two tablespoons of syrup. He will not explain himself, but count a tear or two in the pancake topping.

Danse:

Imagine the scene: It’s a Sunday morning. You’re a waitress. You’re already fed up by the hordes of angry customers and the guy who keeps crying in his pancakes.

Then this ABSOLUTE MOTHERFUCKER in armor big enough to take up the whole damn restaurant asks for one specific request: 2 pounds each of Bacon, Sausage and Ham, as well as 36 hard boiled eggs.

You ask him: Sir, are you sure you want 6 pounds of meat and 36 eggs? Did you mean to place this as a catering order?

His response is simple: Catering? Civilian, this is just for me. Then, he slowly points to the door.

In horror, you watch as a dozen, no, two dozen, no a hundred similarly dressed soldiers crash through the door.

Basically he’s just really hungry

Hancock:

A bagel with cream cheese, lox, and capers. Why? Because he’s better then you, thats why. Maybe he even puts on a slice of onion, out of spite.

MacCready:

He’s bringing Duncan along as long as you’re paying. Both of them get a belgian waffle with sprinkles and extra extra extra chocolate chips. If there aren’t enough chips, MacCready will personally threaten the chef.

Piper:

Do I really have to tell you? A massive breakfast combo: 5 chocolate chip pancakes with syrup and butter, 3 slices of Challah french toast (she has class) and an entire waffle. She may even steal off MacCready’s plate, with varying degrees of success. Oh, and a milkshake. And chocolate milk. And orange juice.

Hey, it’s not often you get miraculously teleported back to pre-war diners!

Preston:

Preston enjoys the little things in his breakfast. Not wanting to spend too much on someone else’s dime, he’ll just get a cup of coffee with cream and sugar and maybe a Cheese Danish. If he’s paying, he’s still humble: two cups of coffee and a jam sandwich.

Nick Valentine:

Nick was supposed to be from New York in game, so that’s what we’re goi with. If he could eat, he’ll have a bagel with cream cheese and lox. Maybe a tomato, if he’s feeling frisky. Oh and black coffee.

Strong:

Much to the waiter’s annoyance, he keeps trying to order raw meat. It’s a safety hazard! He just tells Bah! and tries to order it again. Eventually he settled for bacon and eggs, after MacCready explained to him where it comes from.

X6-88

He’s going to request a cup of black coffee. He won’t just drink normal coffee, he wants straight beans. A cup of straight coffee beans is what X6 eats in the morning. Breakfast of champions.

This waiter/waitress better be given a Prydwen-sized tip for this group.

[returnn-of-the-mac]

I love the swap dialogue format! Maybe one for Scribe Haylen?

Companion Swap Dialogue: Scribe Haylen

Preston

Haylen: The Minutemen’s work to bring the Commonwealth together is truly admirable!

Preston: [flattered] Oh…well, thank you! It’s refreshing to hear that.

…

Preston: Be careful out there!

Haylen: I don’t think you have anything to worry about.

Curie

Haylen: You are an infirmary engineer and researcher? Incredible! We’ll have to discuss our findings sometime!

Curie: I would love to compare data!

…

Curie: Madam Haylen! Do you need any medical zupplies before you ‘ead out?

Haylen: I think I’m fully stocked! Appreciate it though!

Danse

Haylen: Take care out there you two! Stay safe!

Danse: Will do. Thank you, Haylen.

…

Danse: [worried] I know you’re capable, but if you ever find yourself in hot water, don’t hesitate to send out a signal. I’ll be there.

Haylen: We can handle it! But thank you, sir. Ad Victorum!

Codsworth

Haylen: [intrigued] You’re one of the first functional Mr. Handy’s I’ve seen around here!

Codsworth: Yes; and every day I am grateful that I am not stuck in an eternal dialogue loop!

…

Codsworth: Good luck out there, Ms. Haylen!

Haylen: Thanks, Codsworth!

Piper

Haylen: Piper Wright!? Wow! I’m a huge fan of your paper!

Piper: [flustered] Hey, thanks! I’m glad you like it!

…

Piper: Try not to die!

Haylen: Duly noted!

Strong

Haylen: [to Sole] …Don’t get eaten…

Strong: Strong no eat friend, stupid human!

…

Strong: Why human travel with this human? This one weak!

Haylen: [annoyed] I’ll show you weak.

Deacon

Haylen: [to Sole] Remember: take everything he says with a grain of salt.

Deacon: I’m more of a pepper guy, myself.

…

Deacon: What’s a talented gal like you doing wasting your time with the Brotherhood?

Haylen: It’s a better use of my time than trying to liberate toasters.

MacCready

Haylen: Have you been affiliated with the Brotherhood before? Your mannerisms in combat and marksman abilities seem similar to our training program.

MacCready: [sarcastic] Damn. Am I really that much of a walking red flag?

…

MacCready: [to Sole] Well, I hope you enjoyed the fun while it lasted.

Haylen: Just because I’m not a miscreant like you doesn’t mean I don’t know how to have a good time.

Hancock

Haylen: Try not to do anything too stupid out there. I have limited access to medical supplies out here.

Hancock: No promises, sister.

…

Hancock: [flirty, joking] Are you an irregular ECG? Because you make my heart skip a beat!

Haylen: Gross.

Gage

Haylen: I’ll never understand how you Raiders can just mercilessly kill innocents. It’s shameful.

Gage: You Brotherhood guys ain’t all that different, sis.

…

Gage: Yer runnin with the Brotherhood now? They’re a whole different kinda heinous.

Haylen: [defensive; scoffing] Oh, you’re one to call an organization heinous. We have nothing but good intentions, civilian.

X6-88

Haylen: Why does the Institute insist on wreaking havoc on the Commonwealth? Why don’t you all just stay in your lane?

X6-88: Our intentions are none of your business.

…

X6-88: Don’t do anything you would regret, [sir/ma’am]. The Institute does not take kindly to treacherous activity.

Haylen: [coldly] What they do is at their own discretion, sir.

Longfellow

Haylen: You’re from Far Harbor, huh? I’ve always wanted to see the ocean.

Longfellow: Nah, ya don’t. It’s overrated. It’s ridden with dead fish and seaweed and stinks like mirelurk.

…

Longfellow: Don’t be afraid to harpoon the threatening shit.

Haylen: Er…thanks for that…useful…advice?

Nick

Haylen: Detective Valentine! I know it must sound strange coming from me, but I truly admire you. Just…keep that between us.

Nick: You got it, sweetheart.

…

Nick: Be careful out there. You Brotherhood folks don’t have the best reputation.

Haylen: It’s alright! I don’t think it’ll be an issue.

Cait

Haylen: I hope I’m not making a mistake by leaving our friend with you.

Cait: Darlin, the only mistake made was our friend decidin to travel with a stick-in-the-mud.

…

Cait: [annoyed] Fine, have all the fun without me.

Haylen: Much obliged.

[winchesterxxi]

A Reputation to Keep (Poe Dameron x Reader)

GIF BY @captain-flint​

Rating: G (General Audience)

Type: Fluff

Summary: You get a front row seat to the show that is Poe Dameron using his charm to get out of bad situations.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This is a little fun one. Also, in this one Poe can understand Chewie which I don’t think is the case in canon so, yeah.

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His eyebrows furrowed along with his overly-focused faced, borderline adorable as he tried to rewire the navigation system of your X-Wing, crouched down over it, having brought the droids and Chewbacca along with him for alledged cover.

You see, the thing is, just this morning General Leia had encompassed you and Poe to go on a recognition mission to the planet where it had been last reported for the First Order to have step foot on. And you and Poe might’ve thrown in a little friendly competition suggesting that whoever gathers the most information first gets the following day off. You were both Commanders and the Resistance could do well with just one for a day.

And Poe… Poe had a reputation to keep. He is the best pilot that ever graced the fleet. Or so he thinks to himself. Truth be told, you were close behind him if not his equal when it came to the hard skills of a pilot but there was no way he was letting you have that day off and make everyone think he was loosing capacities. He loved you, very dearly at that but there was no way he was going to let you have this one.

So he set himself up to reset the navigation system in your starfighter so that he would at least have a headstart on you. You were supposed to cover different parts of the planet but if he could send you to a remote one at that, away from any civilians, there was no way you would be as quick as him.

Just as he was about to rewire the copper, the exposed ends of two other cables rubbed against each other and blasted in his hand, before smoke started drifting out of the side port. He is startled by the reaction and all three other creatures quickly snap back to look his way, slowly inching closer to the accident.

“I would consider that to be a temporary stepback.” Threepio robotic voice exclaims while scratching his hard head.

“My wife is gonna kill me.” That is all Poe says, eyes wide, grabbing both sides of the wire box.

“You think?”

All four creatures snap their heads back to the sound of the voice that they last hoped to hear during their little shenanigan. There you stood, on the entryway of the otherwise empty garage, hands on your hips, an incredulous look upon your features.

He is quick to throw the tools in his hand to the side and walk over to your front, wiping the hands on the chest of his light blue shirt.

“Honeybee…“ he offers in an enthusiastic voice but you are quick to cut the emotion of.

“You better have a good excuse, Dameron.” You taunt a finger at him

“You see, honey, the thing is, I was trying to replace a few corroded cable jackets, that I noticed the last time we did an inspection.” He was fairly quick to come up with a solid excuse, impressing himself even.

You run a finger across your bottom lip, nodding your head.

“And you actually think I’m going to believe that?”

“Not really, no.” He is fast to let the facade drop, knowing there was no way he could have possibly made you believe his excuse.

A shy smirk starts to want to creep into your lips as you look ahead at his big eyes.

“You were trying to reset the coordinates, weren’t you?” Poe scratches the back of his head nodding and you look behind him to see the droids and Chewie who look everywhere else but at you, except for BB8 who quickly rolls over to bump against your feet, beeping at you.

“Is that so?” you muse at him, as the droid tells you how he tried to tell Poe this was a bad idea from the start and that he still loves you very much. “It’s okay, BB.”

You pat his head as he rolls back to stand next to Chewie while Poe looks slightly offended that his own droid outted him like that. He looks back over at you, a small curl of his dark hair falling over his forehead, as he steps closer to you, hands snaking around your waist, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What if I make it up to you?”

You decide to play along, smirking up at him, and draping your hands over his shoulders.

“And how exactly would you do that?”

He looks to the side, just like before, trying to come up with a compelling plan.

“You see, I was thinking, a bottle of the best Algarine-“

“You know I don’t like Algarine.” You remind him.

“A bottle of the best Ne'tra gal.” he is quick to rectify his mistake, before continuing on, voice getting progressively quieter “You, me and fresh sheets.”

Apparently, it wasn’t quite enough as both droids and Chewie groan in disgust only a few feet away from the pair of you.

Poe only looks over his shoulder, speaking louder.

“We’re married. I’m allowed.”

While he is looking away you smile at the little interaction before biting down on your lips when he faces you once more, having pulled you incredibly closer to him. You squint your eyes as if pondering his proposal, enjoying the way you were toying with him.

“How do I always let you get away with these things?”

“Because you love me and you’re the best wife in the galaxy.”

“Mnhhh… debatable.”

His smile only grows victoriously wide as he brings his head down to kiss you on the lips. Once parted, he pats you on your ass as you turn to walk away.

“See you later, babe!”

“Fix the damn cables!” you call over your shoulder, walking away.

Once he’s sure you’re out of sight, Poe turns and rushes over to the tree creatures that just watched the scene unfold expectantly looking at him. He then points a finger between Threepio and BB8.

“Find me a bottle of Ne'tra gal and I’ll give you a system update.”

He is only met by Chewie’s loud groan claiming also wanting to help and a subsequent reward.

“I don’t know! What do you want?” Poe asks, hands on his hips, mirroring your stance just a few minutes ago, one of the many mannerisms he started taking after you.

“I’m going to regret this.” He exhales, running a hand over his face “Fine. One Cortyg brandy, but that’s it. One! Now, please go find me some Ne'tra gal or my wife is really going to kill me.”

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TAGLISTS

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@blondekel77​  @pedrobreakmyback​

POE DAMERON TAGLIST

@niall2017

[whimsywispsblog]

Leon Kennedy x Megamycete!Reader

Request: Megamycete!Oc as an agent x Leon Kennedy. Possibly the OC is like Ethan, a potential bioweapon but still have her humanity intact.

Thank you for the request @myravenchaser 💕

Okay, so let's start with how you and Leon met. Actually, before that

So while the BSAA were busy investigating the Village, you were one of their operatives who had to live there under the disguise of one of the Villagers. It was easy at first.

But the more you started to talk and observe, the more you realised the danger that lured in the woods. Mother Miranda and the Four Lords

As we all know, when Miranda ruled, she used to experiment on her Villagers (missing children and young maidens), and you were one of them.

Luckily you survived the mould injection, and it was pretty compatible with your body.

To not attract any further attention, with Chris' help, you were able to escape from the Village without much problem, and you faked your death. Surprisingly, no suspicions aroused (or maybe Miranda hid it)

Now, only Chris and a few other high-ranking individuals from the BSAA were aware of your mould situation.

Once you were out, you were immediately tasked another mission- assisting Leon Kennedy, the DSO Agent, through a sticky situation that he had caught himself in

It seems that the mould was not just BSAA's problem, but it spread throughout

Now bec of the mould, you have extreme regenerative powers- you heal quickly, and you can fix any dismembered parts easily.

Leon was a cute guy- baby blue eyes, soft, perfect hair, tall- ah. Dreamy

But he was overly flirtatious, to the point that it annoyed you.

'Hey, after the mission, how about you and I get a late-night fondue?' (Hahaha, Capn' America!) or 'You're damn cute when you snarl like that' or 'Woah feisty gal!' with that stupid smirk

But all changed the moment he saw your body healing by itself when you were burnt.

At first, Leon was wary, unsure of what you are. He pulled himself back.

Once the mission was over and you were away from the rest of the team, Leon confronted you.

You refused to open up, of course, and it turned into a full-blown argument, after which you left the place. But you did miss him; he was fun (and charming) 😏

A month later, you get a text from an unknown number, and in the end, there's a sign: LSK. Who the fuck was LSK, and how did he get your secret number?

You anyway decided to take up the offer and took all your stealth gear with you.

To your surprise, the person was Leon S Kennedy.

"How the fuck-"

"Relax doll, Chris told me everything," and then you got to know that Leon had confronted Chris and learnt everything, even getting your private number (So much for being your handler and mentor, thanks, Chris 😑)

But you two bonded over work and Chris, and later you exchanged your civilian numbers.

Over the next few months, you crossed paths with him during missions or got a reason to hang out.

Things soon took a personal turn until you invited him over for Netflix and chill, and you did everything but 'Netflix and 'chill'. Lmao 😏

Of course, he still annoys you with his lame pick-up lines and flirtatious attempts, but he was your dork head.

[siren-virus]

Luckyboy!AU thing. So I went looking some stuff up, and I can perfectly imagine that Ben would name himself Nekomata, the name for the lucky cats in japanese; you know, because he wants the victims he rescues to have luck in their lives and to bring some of that to himself. However this confuses the Plumbers a whole lot, after all, why would a vigilante want to bring to himself and the others luck in education and love? Green Nekomatas bring luck in education and pink ones (close enough to magenta) bring luck towards love. Spoiler: Ben didn't know what the colors mean, he just thought that the lucky cats bring luck in general to people. His stickers could be coins in order to keep up the theme, or it could be some kind of cats to keep the cat aesthetic.

I also need some fluff between the different "people" (still don't know which noun to use to represent both humans and aliens that isn't "beings" (kinda uncomfortable using that one, since it also encapsulates non inteligent creatures) ) that visit the coffee shop while Ben is working there, like some conversation that he would have with Rook or Gwen, or how he could give some ideas to Cooper over the next technological thing to create/modify, a chat with Kevin about what alien technology he could sell to the civilians that would make him money AND avoid the eye of the Plumbers (and his vigilante persona too if they aren't dangerous)

Would his parents and Max surprise visit him to the coffee shop? I'd imagine that they would, not only to see him but also to have an excuse to give him money in the form of tips without being returen the money XD "You guys just gave me a big ass tip" "Well we just happen to like the service" "I GAVE YOU A GLASS OF WATER" "We REALLY like your service *wink*", meanwhile, Max's watching everything from the table sipping his own extravagant coffee (don't tell me he wouldn't find a way to add some tentacles to his coffee one way or another, forcing Ben to make one that way XD)

Also, what would happen with the love interests that Ben had in the prime dimension? Would he have met any of them in this timeline? How would his relationship with them be? Would any of them come visit him to his job?

Also also, I imagine that Ben would ask grandpa Max any time some of his friends want a tour through the Plumbers HQ to give them all a pass of some kind and do the tour himself (sometimes with his grandpa by his side, sometimes it's Rook, sometimes he's alone, and the best of times he would be with the other Plumber kids going alongside doing lots of pranks at the same time)

I wonder how many charms does Ben have in his home, since some of them are really useful and would help in a lot of things, like I imagine he would use a light charm and reduce his living costs that way, or a heating charm for the same effect.

Finally, I have to say that I love that animation you did of Ben hating early mornings (and if he was out all night and went without sleep, then thank fuck he works at a coffee shop XD), and that tiny detail of him snapping his fingers with both hands, it's just, ugh, I LOVE IT, it reminds me of The Addams Family opening theme. Maybe whenever he does a spell he does that double hand finger snap as a way to focus himself? It'd be a funny easter egg for anyone who would be able to discern it (aka Jimmy, 'cause let's be honest, he would totally find a way to link the double snap with the show somehow, and he would be totally right XD)

Damn dude, I love that whole thing. He would totally choose that name without thinking about it. Nekomata... Rolls off the tongue nicely.

Fluff, eh? People is good enough.

With Gwen, like I said in another post (did I? maybe...) Their conversations would be brief, usually Ben just trying to get a rise out of his cousin to force her into a chat.

Rook is similar, their conversations are brief, but if Ben asks the right questions, serves him a particularly good drink, saves extra amber ogia tarts for him. Rook would be more than happy to indulge. They don't talk about plumbers business, Rook's smart enough to know not to exchange information with a civilian. (Even though Ben probably knows it already.) More, Rook discusses Earth culture with Ben, trying to play catch up with slang, sometimes he'll even indulge some info about his home planet, his friends, family, and girlfriend.

I don't believe Ben and Cooper would talk much, the only reason he's in the cafe is because Manny, Helen, and Alan (if he's not working) forcefully dragged him from the lab, kicking and screaming.

"i'll have an espresso shot. with some honey too... please." Is the only thing he'll before engrossing himself in what tech he managed to bring along.

The one with Kevin is interesting, I do like the idea of Ben tryna push Kevin in the right direction. But Kevins love of tadenite, and the fact he sells weaponry would propbably prevent that.

Instead Ben would try to get as much info from him as possible, subtly giving Kevin a little extra when it comes to info exchange. Kevins lips are sealed. Unless Ben decides to spill some info on Gwen. Kevin plays dumb, but it's easy to spot his interest.

Absolutely, Max, his parents, AND Patelliday all come for visits. At first his parents would be super cautious entering the cafe, they did their best to try to make Ben quit and find a "normal cafe" to work at. They also did their best to convince Ben to move back in. They would deffinitely use any excuse under the sun to tip Ben. They make regular visits on saturdays for morning tea. They don't stick around long though, aliens still spook them a little.

Max and Patellliday - are a unit- would always order a drink together. Max going with the basic Flat White, with some tentacles, of course. Patelliday going for the Boba Fish Tank... they have to restock their gold fish tank every week.

Ben has a good poker face, having to make such a... variety of drinks, and watch how his customer drink/eat. It leaves scars...

Love interests.

Well with Julie, Ben unfortunately never got the confidence to ask her out. But they're really good friends still. (Ben also learned as he got older that not every girl he's friends with wants to date.) Julie comes by the cafe every now and again, always checking if Bens there first before entering, she still managed to get Ship surprisingly, so Ship is always happy to get a pupacino, can't drink it or anything. Just happy to smoosh his face into it.

With Kai, they never had that meeting when they were 10. She comes to Bellwood every now and again, she and Gwen are surprisingly good friends. They clash alot though.

Kai comes by the cafe sometimes too, Ben think she looks nice, but they've had no interactions. (She's not a coffee person, just a water gal.)

Esther, there's no meeting between them, as Ben that is. However, Esther can't deny she feels something towards Nekomata. The guys charming.

I think there's another girl, but I can't remember ;;;

Tour guides? At plumbers HQ? Much as Ben would love to guide his friends around, the amount of jailbreaks that happen there is too many (the plumbers have shit security)... He's not even allowed there most times unless there is someone capable by his side.

More often than not Ben would be disappointed to see one of his regulars, Fist Rick out on the streets the day after he was arrested.

Yes yes yes!! Ben uses a lot of his mana on little things to make his life easier and more convenient. This also comes at the cost of using too much energy, so normally he makes sure to do this when he knows he doesn't have work.

Thank! I work best when I have a visual setting ;; Maybe I should switch careers to be a vis dev.

Also ngl, the whole finger snapping thing, Idk where that came from ;; Could be a cool easter egg thingy

Some days Ben has to be stopped from drinking the coffee. Mr Baumann (yes, he's the head honcho) threatens to send Ben home on those days.

[p-artsypants]

I’ll Handle This (5)

In Which There is an Akuma

Ao3 | FF.net

Plagg was laying on the bed when he returned. “Oh good, you’re back. I was kind of worried about you—“ 

“There’s an Akuma!” Adrien interrupted. 

Plagg’s eyes lit up. “An Akuma, you say? How interesting...” 

“Yeah yeah, just do the thing that sucks me in the ring!” 

“I’ll warn you ahead of time, when I’m in your body like this, the suit becomes factory default. Oh, and you’ll be able to see and hear everything I do.” 

“Great. This whole ‘Invasion of the Bodysnatchers’ episode is getting better and better.” 

“Adrien, Claws out!” 

That was an odd sensation. Now Adrien knew what Taffy felt like. He felt his whole body grow long and thin, before spiraling smaller and smaller. There was every color in the rainbow, flashing in a nauseous wave, and then, he was looking through his eyes again. 

“Ha!” Said Plagg with a little satisfaction. “Feels good to be on the other side.” He walked over to the mirror, where Adrien could finally see what ‘factory default’ meant. 

He looked like a ninja. Not like a Naruto ninja, but like a real Sengoku period, 15th century ninja. An all black, cloth ensemble, with foot wraps and a thick belt. Instead of claws on his fingertips, there were long blades attached to the back of his hand, almost like wolverine. Instead of a mask around his eyes, he wore one over the lower half of his face, and only left his eyes exposed. But his eyes looked different enough. The sclera was a toxic green instead of white, and his pupils were slit. Thick black eyeliner traced the eyes and framed them, making the color pop. His hair was a complete disaster and stood up in every direction. 

Finally, the ears. They were real, genuine cat ears. Complete with fur. 

“Not too shabby, if I say so. Though, the first guys that wore this had black hair, which made the ears less jarring. But I can’t complain. We mustn’t leave our lady waiting!” 

Plagg threw open the window and leapt into the city. 

He rushed over the rooftops, doing impossible feats of parkour and agility. It actually made Adrien dizzy. 

“Oh, one other thing I forgot to mention,” Plagg said aloud. “You know how when you’re in the suit, you can be body slammed into a building and be okay afterwards?” 

Yeah? 

“Well...you’re going to feel all that pain instead. That’s why I’m always so wiped after a fight.” 

What?!

Plagg glanced at his baton, the screen looking more like parchment than the usual LED screen, and found where Ladybug was. 

A hop skip and a jump, he landed next to her. “What are we up against?” 

She didn’t look at him, eyes glued to the akuma. “Stretchy guy. Like Mr. Fantastic. Can’t figure out what ticked him off, but he’s able to reach anything and even shape shift. Might be difficult to fight.” Then she finally looked at him and her eyes bulged. “Chat? What’s with your suit?” 

“Plagg’s having a hard time right now, so I’m factory default.” 

“O...Kay...are you going to be okay fighting like that?” 

“It feels fine, my Lady. Nothing to worry about. In fact, do you mind if I take the lead on this one? Give you a little break?” 

She chuckled. “You know I could always use a break.” 

“Great! We need to lead him over to the construction site over at Notre Dame, where all the scaffolding are.” 

She smiled at him. “I think I know what you’re planning, Kitty. Lead the way.” 

He dropped the bottom part of his mask, and wolf whistled quickly, before Ladybug could place his face. “Hey stretch!” He shouted. “You up for a little race?” 

“Ladybug and Chat Noir! You’ll give me your Miraculous as soon as I reach you!” 

“Good luck with that!” And he vaulted backwards on to the street and darted towards Notre Dame. 

Plagg was fast. Faster than Chat Noir normally was, and Ladybug was surprised at how hard it was to keep up with him. 

“H-Hey Chat! Don’t leave me behind!” 

He only stopped a second to scoop her up into his arms before running off again. Her added weight didn’t even slow him down. 

“Sorry, Bug. The Akuma has long legs, so he’s faster than usual. I can’t slow down, so hang on!” 

She did, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. 

Adrien was going to kill Plagg if he didn’t die from ecstasy first. He could feel Ladybug pressed tightly against him, and he loved every bouncing second of it. 

Soon they reached the construction site, with the Akuma hot on their tail. 

“Split up,” Plagg commanded and Ladybug gave a firm nod, following right along with him. 

While Adrien was basically on autopilot, he noted that this fight felt a lot like being on the jungle gym when he was a kid. He swung on the bars, twisting up levels onto the scaffolding, the akuma chasing after with each turn. 

Except, the akuma was long, and he was starting to get tangled in all the bars. 

“Oh no!” Ladybug feigned a cry. “I’m stuck! He might be able to get my Miraculous!” 

“You’re mine!” Called the akuma, twisting around a pole and darting for her. As he was about to snag her, she dropped and spun on her bent knees away. 

“Whoops, not so stuck after all!”

“I’m going to—“ The akuma reached out their arm, stretching and stretching to grab at her ears. But he never reached her. He was out of length, and hopelessly tangled in the mass of wood and metal. “No! No!” He wriggled, trying to untie himself, but Plagg had already found the akumatized item in the akuma’s back pocket. A roll of measuring tape. 

“Akuma, coming in hot!” He called, as he smashed the tape. 

The black butterfly emerged, and Ladybug caught it and purified it easily. “Bye bye little butterfly!” 

One cure later, the relative damage done to the scaffoldings was repaired, and the akuma victim, a short man, was returned to ground level. 

“Wow! We didn’t even have to use our powers today! Great work, kitty!” She praised as he raised her fist.

He bumped her back with a grin. “Thank you, Bug. Hope you didn’t mind me taking charge. I just figured with you being the guardian and all, having some shared responsibility would really help you out.” 

She exhaled with a breath, her shoulders relaxing. “Ugh, you have no idea. When that akuma alert went off, I was already dreading it. It’s been a long day.” 

Plagg frowned. “A long day?” Even after their shopping spree and awesome lunch? “Do you need to talk about it?”

She ground her toes on the roof of the church. “Are you busy? Plagg said you were doing something…” 

“Oh, I was napping. I have all the time in the world for you, Ladybug.” 

“Want to get some ice cream, then?”

“Only if you let me pay.” 

She dramatically put a hand to her forehead, “oh, if you must!” 

Plagg chuckled with her, and then took off running.

“Hey! I never said it was a race!” She called back. 

“You never said it wasn’t either!” He shouted back.

When she finally located Andre’s ice cream cart, he was already sitting and waiting with her order. “Your ice cream, my lady?”

“You’re so fast! Have you just been holding out on me all this time?!” She huffed, taking the cone from him. 

He shrugged. “Oh, I have a couple of tricks up my sleeves.” 

They enjoyed their ice cream in comfortable silence for a while, before Ladybug asked, “hey, you’re a boy, right?”

“Last I checked.” 

She shook her head at her dumb question. “Right. Um…I have a friend. Guy friend.” 

Plagg crossed his legs. “OoooOOoooo is it him?”

Ladybug blushed. “Yes.” 

“Tell me everything.”

Inside his head, Adrien started to panic. This could only end badly for them!

“Well today…he was acting really weird. Usually, he’s really nice and reserved and polite…I know he can be silly and rambunctious, but…today, he was larger than life. He took us out for an expensive lunch, and then shopping for clothes that would make his dad angry. I think it’s a rebellious streak, but my gal friend said his money has gone to his head…” She scuffed her foot on the floor. “I’m just worried. I don’t want him to change…but I don’t want him to fake being someone he’s not just to make others happy. I guess I’m just confused. What do you think?” 

Plagg finished his cone in one gulp, hiding his face right after. “I think it’s just puberty.” 

She did not think that was amusing. “Yeah right.” 

“Has handsome rich boy ever shown signs of materialistic superiority?”

“No, he wears the same clothes all the time, and never flaunts the things he owns—“ 

“Then I think your gal pal is off base. It probably is rebellion. Just…be a safe place for him, and I’m sure it’ll end up okay.” 

“A safe place? What do you mean?” 

“I’m not sure what this dude is rebelling for. You’d probably know. Is his family…strict?”

“Very.” 

“And controlling?”

“Extremely.” 

“Okay, so if I was in his shoes, I’d want a friend that was trustworthy for me to confide in. Rebelling is liberating and exciting, but also extremely scary, because it’s risky. He needs to have someone to have his back in case things go south.” He massaged her shoulder. “And it would be best if that friend was soft and smelled nice.”

Ladybug smacked his shoulder. “When did you get so wise?”

“I hide a lot of wisdom under my ‘dumbass’ veneer.”

Ladybug cackled loudly, making Plagg smile and Adrien swoon.  

“You can be a dumbass sometimes,” Ladybug admitted. “But you’re my dumbass.” 

“Aww, thanks bug!” He grinned. “So, handsome rich boy is all that’s on your mind? I know identity clues have to be avoided and all, but I like knowing stuff that’s going on in your life. And I think I can manage another golden nugget of advice as well, if needed.” 

Ladybug frowned, obviously something else cropping up in her mind. “Actually…there’s something I haven’t told you that I probably should have.” 

“I’m all ears. I literally have four of them.” He twitched his cat ears.

She reached up and rubbed them, an affectionate look on her face as she felt the fur under her fingertips. “Not too long ago, I was expelled from school.” 

“Ladybug is a bad student in her civilian life?” He joked.

“No! I’m not!” She damn-near cried. “Sorry, I just…ugh. I was framed. There’s this girl in my class that…she lies with every breath. I know she has a crush on my crush, but she’s lying and manipulating to get her way to him. She works with him now too.” 

Plagg knew there was certainly more to the story than that, but he had to play dumb as Chat Noir. “Lying is bad and all, but it’s not really your problem, is it? She’ll get caught in her web eventually.”

“Argh, that’s what Ad—my boy said too. Take the high road. And it made sense, for what he knew about her at the time…but what he didn’t know was that she threatened me. Threatened to take all my friends and him away, just because I told her to stop lying.”

This was a shock to both kwami and holder. “She threatened you?” 

“Yeah. And she went through with it. She got me expelled. Apparently, according to my boy, he sort of convinced her to double lie to get me un-expelled. She’s been quiet ever since, which has been a few weeks, but…she keeps staring at me. It’s unnerving.” 

“I suppose it would be, with her track record.” 

“I didn’t want you to find out about this, but I have to tell you. She’s almost gotten me akumatized, twice.” 

Plagg slapped a hand over his mouth with a gasp. 

Lila was a nuisance for Adrien, but she was a problem for Marinette. No, an imminent threat. This changed his attack strategy…though it started to look like Adrien’s three problems were weaved together. The whole situation was a little more delicate than he had considered at first. 

“I’ve beaten both akumas off, but I worry about the future. I’m trying to come up with a contingency plan, but for right now it’s just ‘don’t get upset’.” 

“I’ll try to come up with a plan too. Maybe next time, you could hand your earrings off to Tikki for a little while, if things start to get dicey. She can bring them to me, since she knows who I am.” 

Ladybug gnawed at her lip. “Tikki’s been my greatest ally in fighting them off. If she’s not there…” 

Plagg rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Bug, you’re the practical one here. What happens when you don’t give Tikki your earrings, and you don’t fight it off? When you’re so consumed with pain you don’t even see the Akuma coming? What then?” 

She shook her head. “You’re so right, I hate it.” She sighed. “That happened the last time too…I was only spared because Hawkmoth suddenly stopped his attack. That was the day I got expelled.”

“And I’ll follow the plan too. I haven’t gotten akumatized or anything, but it might only be a matter of time.”  

“Yeah…” It was awful to think about. Having to fight her partner was not something that Marinette wanted to do. But this loose plan was better than no plan. “Hey, it’s getting pretty late. I have a project I have to finish up.” 

“Oh, of course, go on home.” Plagg insisted. 

“Thanks for the Ice Cream, and for lending an ear. You’re the best, Kitty.” 

Plagg smiled at her, though she couldn’t see through his mask. His eyes crinkled in mirth. “I try.” 

“Tell Plagg I still have that cheese danish if he wants it. Night, Chat.” 

“Night, Bug.” 

And she swung off into the distance. 

Plagg took out his baton and made his own way home. He knew Adrien didn’t really want to be transformed any longer than he had to be. 

He landed inside the mansion, and called, “Claws in.” 

Adrien came flying out of the ring, and Plagg caught him carefully in his hands. “How you feeling, kiddo?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” said Adrien, weakly. “You didn’t even use my power, why am I so tired?” 

“How much cheese did you eat today?”

“None.” Adrien scrunched up his nose. “Come to think of it, I didn’t eat anything today.” 

“That would certainly do it.” Plagg said, with a sigh. He took out a wheel of camembert and took out a wedge for Adrien, holding it in front of his face. 

Normally, Adrien couldn’t stand the smell. It was putrid and foul and moldy…but this…this was on a different level. Curse Plagg’s disgusting body! He sat up and helped himself to a nibble of cheese. A nibble turned into a bite, and a bite turned into a full inhale, almost taking off his fingers. 

“Better?” 

Adrien sighed as his energy started to return. “Remind never to complain about your eating habits.” 

Plagg grinned. “Oh it's a deal!” 

Adrien’s phone rang, and Plagg reached to answer. 

“Who is it?” Asked Adrien. 

“It’s Marineeeeeeetteeeee~!” Plagg sang, and connected the call, putting it on speaker for Adrien to hear. 

“Hey Pooh Bear.” 

“H-hey uh, Tigger? No no that was dumb. Sorry, hi Adrien.” 

Plagg and Adrien shared a look of fondness. She was just too cute sometimes. 

“Whats up?” Pried Plagg. 

“Uh, not-not much! I just finished your second shirt! I can do more tomorrow, but for now…” 

“I’ve got an outfit picked out for tomorrow, don’t worry. And you’ll love it.” 

“Will I really? Or will it turn me into a pillar of salt?”

“Have a little faith in me, Mari.”

“I—of course. Did you just call me Mari?”

“Yeah, I thought it was about time I gave you a nickname. Is that okay? Or are you okay with Pooh Bear?”

Marinette’s giggle was adorable, as it was filled with thinly veiled embarrassment. “Call me whatever you like! I don’t mind!” 

“Great! What’s my nickname?”

“I don’t know? Do you want one?”

“Only from you, Pooh Bear!” He sang. 

“Um…I’ll have to think about it. I think I’ve heard Lila and Chloe both call you ‘Adri’, so I’ll try to come up with something else.” 

“I appreciate that.” Plagg said, as Adrien smiled fondly at the phone. It sure was considerate of her to think about that.

“And Adrien?” Her tone conveyed so much. So much more than Adrien could understand. But it brought a warmth to his face. 

“Yes?”

“I’m here for you. You know that, right? Whatever you need. An ear, a h-h-hug. Whatever. I…I care about you.” 

Adrien wiped a paw under his eyes, fully prepared for tears to take him. 

“I care about you too,” Plagg said, not faking the genuine appreciation in his voice. “I appreciate everything you do for me.”

“I-…” She trailed off, and Adrien wondered if she was going to say something else. But instead, she just exhaled and said. “It’s getting kind of late. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course, Pooh Bear!” 

She laughed. “Thanks Adrien, goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.” And he ended the call. 

“She took your advice.” Adrien noted.

“She took Chat Noir’s advice. She trusts him after all.” 

Adrien sat on the desk, still feeling a storm brewing inside of him. He was still upset about Plagg’s behavior with his father…but he was starting to come around. Marinette never called him, and her conversations with him were never so easy. Was this actually working?

“Adrien,” Plagg started, scratching between his ears. “I’m sorry for hurting you. If there was a way to humble your father without hurting you in the process, I’d do it…but right now…”

“I understand, Plagg.” Adrien said with a hopeful smile. “It sucks but…that Chloe-tantrum you threw was really funny.”

Plagg beamed at him. 

“And,” Adrien added. “After hearing the whole truth about Lila, I’m fully on board with whatever you want to do to her.”

“Fully?”

“Absolutely. This bitch needs to go.”

The mansion was nearly silent in the night, so Plagg’s evil cackle echoed and echoed, sending goosebumps down the neighbor’s spines.

[libsterslobsters]

I'm Gonna Crawl: Post 1

(Divided because of length)

Post 2

Summary: Five years. That's how long the reader and Bucky have been apart (although for him, it was only five minutes) Now with Thanos defeated and both of them taking up the mantle of Avengers, can their relationship return to what it was? Or will they have to discover a new normal?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! super-soldier! Reader (Reader can see pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language

Author's note: Tumblr is being a poo-poo head and won't let me post the whole fic because it's too long, so this is a two parter.

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

The text comes when she’s in the middle of teaching English feminine and masculine pronouns. Immediately, she knows it’s something important. There’s a very limited amount of people she’s allowed to filter through the “do not disturb” status she sets her phone in while she’s in the classroom. Her first though is Barnes, but at this point, he’s memorized her schedule even more thoroughly than she has, so it’s unlikely he’s responsible for the disturbance. Pepper, maybe? But no, she’s a powerful enough woman that if she needed anything, she could simply ask and it would be hers. Peter? It’s within normal high school hours, so if he’s messaging her, she’ll give him a lecture next time she sees him for texting in class. That only leaves one person, or rather, organization. As she instructs her students to come up with a few examples of common words which can be said different ways to demonstrate masculine and feminine, then takes a moment to check her phone, her suspicions are confirmed. Rhodes. The Avengers.

“You guys keep working. That’s an example of an English masculine. Now what would the feminine be?” A chorus of ‘gals’ follows her out the door. Once she’s rounded the corner, she dials the number, completely skipping the texting process. The line only rings once before Rhodey answers.

“Hello?”

“Soothsayer. What is it?”

“You need to come in. We’ve got a mission, and it has to be you.” She lets out a silent groan before asking,

“How much time have I got to square things away at work?”

“Wheel’s up in ninety minutes. You need to be here at least fifteen before to read over your orders.” Her boss isn’t going to be happy, but it’s doable.

“Right. I think I just got a crippling migraine. I’ll call you back later.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“You’re damn right.” She mutters it as the line goes dead.

Thirty minutes later, she’s on her way after giving the sub her notes and her boss a bullshit excuse. So far, no one’s worked out that she’s one of the people who fought in the battle against Thanos, and she hopes to keep it that way.

She speeds across the city, driving a little faster than is responsible, but her reflexes are fast enough to cover for it. If this is going to be the sort of mission where they need her brawn as well as her brains, she’d like a few minutes to warm up before she has to hop on a quinjet. Grabbing her go-bag (complete with weapons, her suit, and a set of spare cosmetics), she jumps out of the car as soon as it’s parked in front of the newly rebuilt Avengers compound. Warm up, and make a call to-

“Well, look who the cat dragged in.” She turns her head towards the voice, catching sight of Sam and-

“What’d you tell them? Stomach flu?” Barnes. Okay, maybe she won’t have to call him after all, but that brings up more questions than answers.

“Migraine.” She falls into step next to him while Sam rushes on ahead. “They called you too, huh?”

He nods, grimacing. “Looks like it’s something big.” Obviously. If they’ve called in both him and Sam, not just one or the other, then it’s a guarantee the situation is FUBAR. Plus her? She’s usually in the background. If she’s being pulled then-

“You alright?” She nods, smiling with more confidence than she feels.

“Yeah. Just wish I knew what we were getting into. If they want both unstable super soldiers-” It’s a joke, which thankfully, he gets.

“Then the situation must be pretty hairy.” That’s putting it lightly. They’ve never been called up together before. Never.

If the mounting evidence weren’t enough to clue her in that this is going to be major, the final factor would be, after Rhodes explains to all three of them that with the return of so many people to Earth, a former dictator who disappeared in the snap has gathered up his forces and is attempting to usurp a now-peaceful democracy in hopes of using the territory to levy compliance from surrounding nations. Usually that wouldn’t be their thing, but when the words “dirty bomb” and “gamma radiation” are brought into play, it’s no mystery as to why they’re being called in.

It’s about what she expected. Falcon is running point, Winter Soldier is the man on the grassy knoll (she shudders when Rhodey goes with that particular descriptor because of a confession several years back just after he woke up in Wakanda; “I really hope I’m remembering this wrong and it was just a dream, but I think I was behind what happened to the president.”), and she’s on evac and rescue, making sure there’s as few civilian casualties as possible. However, when the briefing is called to a close, it’s a total shock that Sam is let go while she and Barnes are told to stay back.

Rhodes sits at the edge of his desk, arms crossed, wearing his most serious expression. “You two have completed the appropriate training hours together, correct?”

“Yes.” They say it at the same time, and she has to bite her cheek to keep from yelling out, “Jinx!” It was a requirement after the defeat of Thanos that the two of them specifically learn how to work together as a team, play off of each other’s strengths, just in case something truly catastrophic happened. She also trained with Bucky and Sam as their third. What she’s wondering is, why ask a question Rhodes clearly knows the answer to? He’s the one who set up the training, after all.

“And you’re comfortable working as a squad?” She catches Bucky’s eye, and it’s clear that he’s come to the same conclusion as her: this isn’t what Rhodey is really after.

“We’re fully capable, yes.” He’s the one that answers, while she reaches out into the unknown, hoping for a vision. No dice.

With a sigh, Rhodey stands.

“What I mean is, can you be objective out there on the battlefield? Can you work together like anyone else?” This time, she’s the one to speak up.

“Can we be objective? Yes. Can we work together like anyone else? No, but that was your goal with the training program.”

“You wouldn’t have called the two of us up if you didn’t need what we can do together.”

For a moment, she feels sympathy for Rhodes. The poor man is clearly struggling to make a point. That’s when it hits her, a vision of what he’s prepared for them to do. As soon as it passes, she kicks Barnes’ chair leg lightly, which is enough that he gets the message.

“Just say it, because she’s already seen it.” She wouldn’t want to be in Rhodes’ position for the world right now with the news he’s about to deliver.

“Fine.” Rhodey nods. “If we get in a tight spot, someone is going to have to draw fire. It can’t be Barnes for obvious reasons.” Part of their mission is to obtain stolen scientific data located deep inside enemy lines. She’s smaller and therefore faster, can fit into tight places more easily, but he’s been trained to go unnoticed, and what’s more, to incapacitate anyone who sees more than they should. It’s an obvious choice. She’s in essence the diversion, the boy crying wolf while the real thief makes off with the shepherds’ wallets. Her size and speed will work to her advantage, as well as the fact that they won’t recognize her, so they won’t know right away that she’s the decoy, whereas the second they have eyes on him or Sam, they’ll know to batten down the hatches.

She doesn’t have to look beside her to know what he thinks of that idea. She can practically feel him seething. But, it’s a scenario that, along with Sam, they’ve trained for.

“What I need to know is that, once the bullets start flying, you won’t fall back on instinct and run to protect each other. Out there, you are not a couple. You’re teammates, fellow soldiers, nothing more. Got it?”

She keeps her eyes focused on Rhodey’s face as she nods, otherwise hers will show what she’s feeling. “Agreed.”

“Barnes?” There’s a pause, so long she’s about to kick his chair leg again just to get a reaction.

“Understood.”

“Good.” Rhodes’ posture immediately changes. “Now, suit up. Quinjet is leaving at 1300 hours.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Oh!” Bucky looks up from the building schematics he’s studying at the surprised noise from the woman next to him. “This one’s actually not bad.”

“Which one?” He leans towards her, scanning the house listing on her phone. “Nah. I don’t like the look of that roof.”

“True, but it says here they’re willing to knock some off the asking price if we’re willing to do our own repairs-”

A groan issues from the other side of the jet.

“Are you two really searching realtor.com while we’re on our way to save the world?” Sam asks, scowling.

“No, of course not.” She shakes her head, smirking. “It’s zillow.” That reminds him-

“Scroll down. Let’s see when it was built.” It looks like… ah. “Hard no. That thing’s older than me.”

“And like you, it has character.” It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up. He sees an opening, and he’s going for it.

“Did you just compare me to a house?” She snickers.

“Now that you mention it, there are some similarities. Good bones, had some renovations done, could use some landscaping-”

“You know, you could’ve just said ditch the beard.”

She gasps, clutching a hand to her chest. “I would never!”

“Alright, I’m gonna stop you there.” Sam holds up a hand. “If you’re gonna talk about his hair anywhere below the neck, I’m gonna open up the hatch and jump out.” It would be a more effective threat if he wasn’t already wearing his wings.

“Mind out of the gutter, Sam.” She half-heartedly scolds before returning to examine her phone. “The market is just shit right now but there’s got to be something listed that’s less expensive than renting an apartment in the middle of Brooklyn…” That’s what all of this is about, really. After the snap (at least from what he’s read) the price of renting was lower than it had been since the fifties. Now that everything is back to normal, everyone and their mother is looking for a place to rent. Not that he can blame them. He’s one of the returned, after all.

“I guess we could move into the complex once it’s repaired. Just for a little while-”

“Nope.” Sam cuts them off. “Hell no. It’s enough that I gotta deal with you and Judge Dredd here being all domestic on missions. If I have to hear you two going at it, I’m gonna lose my shit.”

He may not understand the pop culture reference, but he caught the sexual one. The truth is, they haven’t slept together since he returned. It’s not like things have been platonic; they shower together, cuddle, and make out like teenagers walking down lovers’ lane. However, five years is a long time (even if for him, it was barely more than an instant), and while he’s ready to resume their sex life, he’s not going to push in case she’s not there yet.

Before he can go too far down that rabbit hole, the intercom crackles to life and their pilot announces that it’s time for the drop. He’s not a huge fan of parachuting (falling to his near death and losing an arm sort of took the magic out for him), but he calls on what remains of his training now that HYDRA’s brainwashing has been deactivated and puts on an emotionless front.

“Com links on.” As Sam speaks, he activates his own com. “Everyone getting a signal?” He is, and if the face she just made is anything to judge from so is she. “Okay. I drop first, then on my mark, Winter Soldier drops; five seconds later, Soothsayer follows. Copy?”

“Copy.”

“Copy.”

Sam shoots them a grin that doesn’t completely hide his nerves. “Good luck.”

As soon as his partner’s exited the plane, he catches her eye. “Love you. See you on the other side.”

“Love you. Come back in one piece.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Even before Sam hits the ground, he knows it’s going to be a shit show. Even though he doesn’t activate his com to tell them as much, it’s obvious as the super soldier plummets past him that his chute didn’t open. Sam might worry about this if it weren’t for the fact he saw Steve jump out of many a plane without anything to keep him from free falling. Their tag-along, however? She has activated her coms (either that or she forgot to deactivate them) and she lets out a gasp. That’s all, a gasp, but it’s enough to put Sam on edge. This is why coupling up is dangerous in this line of work. Your affection can work to your disadvantage.

Because he can’t have his team scattered, worrying about each other, he asks, “Barnes, do you copy?”

“Copy, Falcon. Don’t think I’ll be doing that again.”

“Oh, you are so getting shit for that when we get home.” He rolls his eyes.

“Let’s cut the chitchat. We have a mission. On my mark, Soothsayer heads into the encampment to lead any P.O.W.s and civilians away. Copy?”

“Copy.”

“Copy.”

He lands just before she does, and as soon as she’s detached her shoot, he gives her the go ahead.

Any thought that they might have succeeded in having the element of surprise on their side goes out the window when a shot whizzes past his head.

“Barnes, cover me.”

“Copy.”

Even with the rain of bullets from his own personal sniper, he barely gets past the first defensive line in one piece. He takes out at least a dozen hostiles, incapacitating when he can, eliminating where he must. Just outside the main fortress, he asks,

“Come in, Winter Soldier. How many hostiles between you and my position?”

“Eighteen.” A muffled shot follows the statement. “Seventeen.”

“Alright. Clear a path. Let’s show these sons of bitches what they get when they threaten innocent lives.”

He thinks that maybe they’ll be able to turn it around when they find their human target fairly easily and are able to capture and incapacitate. The orders, however, were not just to bring him in alive but also to seize the assets they’ve lost before a bomb squad and team of radiation specialists comes in and sweep the place. The only way he’ll be able to get their target back to the jet unharmed (not to mention survive himself) is if they do the one thing he was hoping it wouldn’t come to.

“Soothsayer, this is Falcon. Come in. Over.”

“Copy, Falcon.”

“Winter Soldier is going in. Deploy “big bad wolf” initiative.” In other words, go get shot at while at the same time covering me.

“Copy. Be advised, there are hostages in the building. I repeat, hostages in the building. Over.” For a moment he wonders if she saw it in a vision or if one of the people she’s just helped escaped has started talking out of gratitude, but pushes it to the side. He has biggest issues.

“Winter Soldier, Soothsayer, get into place. On my signal, we move.”

“Copy.”

“Copy.”

“Three… two… one… go!”

Sam kicks off into the air, thanking whoever the hell out there invented this tech that he doesn’t have to fly with an extra 250 pounds of dictator in his arms (Redwing is handling that). Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Soothsayer making a run for it, shooting as she goes. Where the hell did she get the gun? Problems for later.

He’s just about to radio into the jet to see if the ‘package’ was delivered when the shots turn in his direction. He returns fire at the same time a dagger flies past his head.

“Throw it a little closer next time Soothsayer. I dare you.” It’s muttered under his breath.

“So you wanted a sniper’s bullet in your back?” Damned super hearing.

“Aren’t you supposed to be causing a distraction?”

“I am. Close your eyes and cover your ears.” He complies just in time for the flashbang to go off over his head.

“Fuck! You could’ve told me that’s what you were doing!” There’s no reply. “Soothsayer?” A grunt followed by the sound of impact comes over the com.

“Little busy. Hold up.” Hand to hand, if he had to venture a guess. More shots are fired, and he flies lower, returning them, kicking a few assailants in the head as he goes.

“Winter Soldier, this is Falcon. Come in.”

“I read you.”

“Do you have eyes on the target?”

“Almost there. There’s a few more obstacles than we thought.”

“Copy. Over and-” He doesn’t get to finish the sentence as a yell of “Get down!” pierces the night.

It all happens in slow motion. He reaches for the shield, but he can already hear the gun discharge. A force runs into him, knocking him to the ground. Realization hits him: it’s her. He doesn’t see the bullet impact, but he hears her cry out. On instinct, he covers both of their vital organs with the shield, and that’s when he sees the splotch of red blooming from her right shoulder, which so happens to have acted as a human barrier, blocking what would have most assuredly have been a kill shot to the head for him.

“Falcon, Soothsayer, come-” There’s a muffled shout over the com, followed by more sickening thuds and a few shots.

“Barnes?” He hears a whisper of movement from behind him, and without looking, fires. “Barnes, do you copy?” As he speaks, several hostiles gang up on him at once. Using the shield to it’s full advantage, he knocks two off their feet, kicks another in the gonads, then chin, and punches two more’s lights out. He starts on the one that’s left, but out of nowhere, the hostile’s legs go out from under him. What-

“This is Barnes. I have the target. Moving hostages out now.”

Sam opens his mouth to speak again, but a tug at his ankle draws his attention. She’s sitting up, features drawn in pain and still bleeding, her fist bloody from the last hostile’s face.

“Don’t tell Barnes.”

Internally groaning, he speaks again. “Copy. Meet us back at the ship. Over and out.” Grabbing her good arm, he hauls her to her feet and drapes her body over his shoulder. “Pretty sure the blood’s gonna tip him off. And the bullet hole.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“It’s not that bad.” This has to be the tenth time she’s repeated that sentiment in the past five minutes since arriving back at the quinjet, and yet it’s still not making an impression. As she stands yet again, Sam gives her good shoulder a hard push.

“Sit your serum-ed up ass down. You’re gonna bleed out if-” She narrows her eyes at the man with the shield. “Fine. You’re still dripping blood everywhere.” Yeah, well, it’s not like it hit a major vein or artery. She saw it coming, after all. Still… it fucking hurts.

“Shouldn’t you be hailing Barnes again?”

“Who’s in charge here? You or me?” She thinks about snapping back with something truly brutal, but bites her tongue. “Only thing you should be worrying about is how we’re gonna get that slug out of you.”

“Give me a pair of pliers and I’ll do it myself.”

“The hell you will.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! It’s-” Before she can repeat herself again, the door opens. Her breath seizes in her throat a she takes in Barnes’ appearance. Dear God.

“Target acquired?” Sam nods and motions towards the back of the plane.

“What about you? Package secure?” With a thump, a black bag is dropped onto the floor between them. Sam opens his mouth (more than likely to make a sarcastic remark about being careful with the brain child of at least a dozen scientists worldwide), but before he can-

“You’re hit.” He’s in front of her, crossing the narrow space in just two strides.

Biting back a wince, she stares pointedly at the oozing bullet wound in his thigh. “So are you.”

“It’s nothing.” She’s about to call bullshit (that’s a fuck ton of blood, and also she doesn’t remember that cut on his forehead last time she saw him), but he turns away, fixing Sam with a hard stare. “Why didn’t you say we had a man down?”

“Not a man-” She starts.

“And technically, she never went completely down. Plus-” She knows what he’s going to say, and mouths a silent ‘Don’t’, which Sam ignores. “-she told me not to.” There it is. She’s never gonna hear the end of this.

Returning his gaze to her, he asks, “You told him-”

“It wasn’t a big deal. Can we talk about this later?”

“I second that.” Sam nods. “Preferably when you’re not both about to bleed out in the air.” Bucky’s lips twitch momentarily, and she barely contains her own smirk. They’re not about to bleed out. Still-

“You want to go first with the pliers, or do you want me to?”

“For the last time, no one is using pliers to go spelunking for bullets. Aren’t you two supposed to be smart?” She raises an eyebrow in Bucky’s direction, and he smirks.

“Technically, I think the serum just turned us into better soldiers. Not geniuses.”

“Right, and since it would take us what?” She glances at her phone, checking the time. “Five hours to get home? More than likely we would’ve already started to heal pretty significantly around the bullet and would have to disrupt that so they could dig them out.”

“So, pliers.” She nods.

“Pliers.”

With a groan, Sam stands and, digging around in the compartment overhead, produces a first aid kit.

“Fine, but if either of you starts to hemorrhage, don’t come crying to me.”

Rolling her eyes at his retreating back, she asks, “The question still stands. You want to be the surgeon first or the patient?”

“That depends.” Bucky motions to her own bullet wound. “Is that as bad as it looks, or worse?”

She attempts a shrug, but the motion makes her wince. “It’s just a scratch.” The look on his face tells her he’s not convinced.

“Then I guess I’ll dig yours out first. If push comes to shove, I can fix myself up.” This time, she’s with Sam. The hell he will. She’ll just power through.

“Alright.” She motions to the few members of the TACK team still hanging around. “If you don’t want to see me shirtless, I’d suggest you find somewhere else to be, or at least look away.” Shockingly few heads turn at her words. “Okay smart-asses. What I mean is give a lady some privacy and avert your eyes.” There. That’s more like it.

She’s kinda pissed off that she’ll have to junk the suit. It was a new one. Even more infuriating is that when she goes to unzip it, thanks to her injured shoulder she can’t manage it, and what’s worse, she lets out a groan of pain.

“Easy. Let me help.” If they were alone, she’d make an off-colored joke (something along the lines of “any excuse to get me undressed”), but she swallows it down and grits her teeth as the material tugs at her wound. She’s just going to have to toughen up and rip it off like a band-aide.

“I think there’s a water bottle somewhere, so we could soak-” Bracing herself, she gives the material a sharp tug, completely exposing herself. “-or you could just do it the hard way.”

“After all these years, why would I start doing things the easy way now?” She feels more than hears the short intake of breath that signals a laugh.

“Good point. Hold tight while I check the kit.” Taking advantage of the brief lull, she closes her eyes. She’s not exactly squeamish, but there’s something about seeing a bullet lodged in her shoulder that’s somewhat unsettling. “Alright. This is gonna sting, and then it’s gonna hurt like a son of a bitch.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” That one earns her an actual snicker.

Sure enough, it does sting. That is, if by “sting” you meant “feels like I scrubbed myself with a sandpaper washcloth and then rinsed off with vodka.” Still, she manages to keep still and wipe any expression of pain from her face as the disinfectant is poured on, completely soaking her.

“Sorry.” She shakes her head.

“Nothing a towel won’t take care of.”

He’s in front of her now, so she opens her eyes, concentrating hard on his face so she won’t look down.

“You alright?” It’s completely false, but she pastes on a smile.

“Splendid. Thinking of taking this up as a hobby, actually.” He frowns.

“You couldn’t just take up embroidery like a normal person?”

“No one-” Her breath catches as he starts to probe for the bullet. It was a distraction. “-takes up embroidery as a hobby anymore.” Deep breaths. She needs to take deep breaths.

“Shit.” Shit? That’s not comforting. “Do you want the good news first or the bad news?”

“Dealer’s choice.”

“Good news, it’s in one piece. Bad news-” He looks up, holding her gaze. “It’s lodged pretty far in there, Doll.” Of course it is. Just her luck. “Do you want to wait ‘til we get home, or-”

“Just do it.” Once more, she closes her eyes. “Sooner we get it out, sooner the super soldier mojo can do it’s thing.”

“You sure?” She nods.

“Just do me a favor. Don’t tell me when you start pulling it out. I don’t want to know.”

It’s silent, no one saying a word. Still, she clings to the little sounds she can make out in order to keep herself occupied. The engine running. The air filtration system. Her own jagged breaths and his measured ones. Despite her attempts at distraction, she can feel it the moment he starts easing the bullet out of her shoulder. On instinct her body seizes up, and she has to force herself to relax each muscle. It’ll only be more painful if she’s tense.

“Do you want something to squeeze? Maybe a hand to hold?”

Taking a slow, deep breath, she answers.

“That depends. How much do you like that arm?” If she takes out the pain on anything else, she’s almost certain she’d crush it.

“I’m sort of attached to it, so-” She chuckles, and that’s when the bullet slides free. “And, next time you make fun of my corny jokes, I get to remind you of this.”

The patching up process is simple from there. The bleeding is easily staunched and although it’s in an awkward place, they manage to bandage her without much trouble. She’s so nervous, she expects her hands to shake as she takes her turn and, with her good arm, digs the bullet out of Barnes (his is in fragments but luckily, a vision hits and shows her the shards’ locations), but surprisingly, her hands are steady. She glances up at his face just as she pulls the last shard out, but of course, he’s shut down, completely expressionless.

Finally, the quinjet touches down outside of what used to be the Avengers’ compound. Normally they would disembark, then head straight off to a debriefing, but under the circumstances, Sam calls it a night and tells them to get some rest, then come in tomorrow to go over mission reports. As they watch Falcon climb into his car and drive away, it hits her how terribly exhausted she really is. Between her bum shoulder and his bum leg, neither of them is really fit to drive home, so-

“Think we can get a cab this time of night?” Great minds think alike, it seems.

“I don’t know, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

It’s only once they’re home safely and she’s climbed into bed that she allows herself to wonder if they’re ever going to talk about today.

[tainted-wine]

Past Due

Reader X Giran, Dabi, and Mr. Compress (NSFW)

(OOF, This little bastard of a fic has been fighting me every step of the way. It took so long because I was second guessing every single sentence I wrote. Finally, here’s the darkest shit I’ve written so far.)

(This is pre-Overhaul arc, so the bois Giran and Compress are still whole)

Words: 7.8k

Heed These Warnings: Murder, Kidnapping, Noncon/Dubcon, Giran being a dangerous dude, Knives, Forced Oral and Anal, Voyeurism, Humiliation, and the Protagonist just being a total dumbass

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For as long as you have lived, luck has been by your side like a bipolar twin attached to your hip. It was thanks to luck that you were born into a quirkless family in the trashiest of neighborhoods, your penniless parents separating and leaving you to fend for yourself. The streets had no use for you; no quirk, no charisma, no money, you were just another parasite desperately clinging onto the city’s rotten underbelly.

But it was also thanks to luck that you survived this long. The average person can remember each and every brush with death in their life clearly, but you—you’ve lost count of how many times this cruel world has tried to pick you off. So far, you have dodged every bullet, knife, and blast of quirk-based power aimed in your direction. How do you keep slipping past all of these dangerous criminals? Your reckless ass has no idea. Luck was simply a sadistic douchebag that enjoyed dangling you over the jaws of death, only to yank you back up and repeat the process like a sad little yo-yo.

As you drove to your place in a panic, you wonder if luck has ever fucked you this hard before.

———

Things had gotten somewhat organized, and by that you mean that you finally had some sort of plan instead of gravitating toward the nearest opportunity that didn’t look ready to tear you apart and throw your remains in an alley. You’ve even made an accomplice, a woman not quite as powerless as you, but an unfortunate soul with less experience in this…line of work. To make things even better, you managed to strike a deal with a prominent broker. Giran was a name known all throughout Japan’s black market, and to think that he’d see potential in a quirkless broad whose notable trait was simply not dying—it was your lucky day. He supplied you with weapons that will make surviving in this hellhole much easier, telling you to pay him within the next five days.

Your partner in crime asked if this was a good idea, that you didn’t seem capable of gathering that amount of money in the span of time you were given. There was no reason for her to worry; with the heat the two of you were packing now, you now had the ability to rob more than distracted civilians wandering the streets.

But before you could even enjoy your brand new firepower, luck decided to be a total asshole again. It was only the second day when you both were ambushed by a group of ruffians. Their quirks were pretty damn impressive, honestly. One of them levitated your gun right out of your hands before you could even fire, instantly leaving you helpless so that the other dudes could close in and beat the snot out of you.

The two of you woke up, bruised, bloodied, and stripped of Giran’s weapons. Damn, you don’t remember a deal ever going south this quickly. Must be a new record.

Alright, so your weapons were gone and you only have a fraction of the money so far. You can figure this out. Your partner was fuckin’ hysterical and you have to smack her before she gives herself a heart attack. The money was barely coming in, and before you knew it, the fifth day had arrived.

Yeah, you weren’t ready to face him yet.

Look, you weren’t exactly running away from him, you were just making sure to give yourself some space while you got your shit back together. That’s why you immediately moved to another part of town and now made sure to never drive down the same route twice. No, you weren’t gathering money for yourself and completely brushing off Giran, like your partner was suspecting. She has no idea what she’s talking about so she needs to shut up already and help you sell this jewelry that you worked so hard in stealing.

Okay, maybe Giran has been trying to call you for the past couple of days and you were officially ghosting him, but she didn’t need that knowledge to add to her stress. You probably weren’t even in any danger. The deal didn’t cost that much, and he didn’t seem like the type of guy to get truly pissed over some petty crook like you, right?

It’s been a week since the due date, and you both were still safe and sound. It was time to get your paranoid little buddy and discuss your next course of action.

When you reached her shoddy rented room, the door was already cracked open. Strange, and very careless; she should know better. You pushed it the remainder of the way and strutted inside. “Don’t leave your door open, dumbass. Anyway, I gotta—”

Your partner was sprawled out on the bed, open eyes still showing hints of the terror that she most definitely felt before her body became riddled with bullets. The smell of smoke and blood finally reached your nose when the shock of the scene before you wore off. The poor gal probably didn’t deserve such a gruesome fate.

“Oh…nevermind.” You close the door and briskly walk through the hall and out of that dangerous building.

------

This all led up to you speeding to your own run-down apartment.

‘Don’t jump to conclusions, now. This might have nothing to do with Giran. Maybe she pissed off some guys behind my back, or maybe I pissed them off and they found her before they found me. I keep forgetting just how many shit-lists probably have my name on them.’

Whatever it was, that instinctive twist in your gut was telling you that it was no longer safe around these parts. You had overstayed your welcome, anyway.

You glanced in every direction as you entered the building. At what time was your partner killed? If they’re after you too, do they already know where you live? There was no time to waste.

Checking to see that you weren't being followed, you entered your room and went straight to packing. You were basically a drifter, so you had few long-term possessions, so few that they could all fit into one bag. You packed your clothes, essential groceries, and your knickknacks that were ripe for selling. You’re loaded up and ready to go, and you don’t even need to go through the trouble of contacting an accomplice anymore. It’s those paper-thin silver linings that keep you going through this endless shitstorm of a life. With a silent goodbye to your short-lived home, you made your way to the door…

And a series of knocks freezes you in your tracks.

The sudden quickening of your heartbeat was dizzying. Shit. Shit shit shit. Whoever is on the other side can’t be friendly, but you had checked! You made sure no one was tailing you!

You backed away while your eyes darted around, deciding if you should defend yourself or find an alternate route to escape. Your only line of defense was a switchblade, so fighting was probably as bad of an idea as it usually was. You looked back to the single window in the room. ‘The fire escape.’

Several harder knocks spurred you into action. You unlocked and pulled at the old window, the worn frame almost breaking off as it opened. The damn ladder and stairs were one room across, but you can jump across the sills if you were careful enough.

There were more knocks, this time followed by a male voice. “Why the hell are we knocking? She’s not gonna answer.”

Another man responded. Shit, there’s more than one? “True. I just like to give the peaceful route a try.”

Something happened to the door that your fear-addled mind couldn’t comprehend. In the span of a second, the wooden door’s shape was warped and shrunken down into a small sphere. You didn’t spend any time to observe the two men at the entrance—you were already scrambling out of the window. The small ledge was difficult to balance on. If you could just get enough leverage for a jump…

“Oi!”

Fuck, you had to take the leap now, but before you could, a pair of hands took hold of you. In a blind panic, you drew your small blade and swung wildly at your attacker, doing your best not to lose your footing. One hand drew back and you heard a hiss of something like “little bitch”, and you thought this was your chance to break free and get away, but the hand still gripping the waist band of your pants got hot, so hot that it reached your skin and had you yelling in pain from the intense heat. With a powerful yank, you were falling back into the room and being pinned to the floor.

‘No no come on, Lady Luck. You’re always here to save my ass, right? I could use your help right fucking now.”

You thrashed and screamed, but then you saw the face of your captor and ew, that shit made you scream even louder. At least make the last face you see more appealing and less…burnt.

The burned man just looked annoyed while holding you down. “Just compress her already.”

Compress? What? Were they about to crush you? That sounds like a really shitty way to go. A gloved hand was pressed to your head, and everything began to distort at a rate too fast for your mind.

It was dark…you felt like you were floating…are you dead? Did it happen that fast? At least it was painless. There was a voice echoing somewhere, but all you saw was blackness. It sounded like it was coming from above. “God?” He’s real, after all?

God sounded very similar to the burnt asshole that attacked you. “That was easy. Why did he need us for this?”

The other voice that you still couldn’t attach a face to answered. “Giran does a lot for the League. It’s only fair that we do him the occasional favor, isn’t it? Her partner has already been taken care of.”

Well shit. Not only were you still alive, but you had been captured in some way to be delivered to him. You wanted to believe that you were in no serious danger, but no one sends two guys to break into your place and abduct you unless they had something sadistic in mind. Maybe your late partner was onto something this whole time.

The talking continued, but the sound was so faint. It’s like you were wearing a thick pair of earmuffs. This entire void, or whatever it is, was uncomfortable—the darkness seemed vast, yet it felt claustrophobic and heavy, like a powerful gravity preventing you from moving. What kind of quirk was this?

The mystery man was talking again. “Your arm is bleeding.”

“Oh right, she caught me with that little blade.” The burnt one said calmly. “It’s not that bad. My arms can’t feel much.”

“It’s not the pain I’m worried about; find something to wrap it up!” There was a sound that was difficult to discern, possibly a long sigh. “She made quite a scene at the window. I hope she didn’t bring any attention to us.”

You heard a grunt from the burnt one and could picture him shrugging. “If anyone asks, we’ll just say that she was a jumper and we stopped her.”

“…Who in the world tries to jump from only three stories?”

“A dumbass, and I’m pretty sure that’s what she is.”

The burnt guy can kiss your ass.

Their conversations were the only indication of time passing. Maybe you heard a few noises from whatever area they were currently in, such as a car passing by or a dog barking, but it was all too muffled to know for sure.

You hope you won’t be stuck in this prison for too long. The emptiness of it all was going to drive you insane. The abyss apparently sensed your distressed, shaping lights and colors all around and lifting the phantom weight off of you so quickly that you had to hold down a rush of bile in your throat.

It’s still fairly dark…a dimly lit room, no furniture, your knees on a hardwood floor, a figure sitting in front of you…

“Good morning.”

A greeting has never filled you with so much dread, uttered by a voice you haven’t heard in nearly two weeks.

The big-time broker himself was seated before you in a simple metal chair. When you met him in the bar to do business together, he had such a nonchalant aura around him, friendly yet detached. The smirk on his face seemed permanent, wearing it even now as he stared down at you, the little rat that has been hiding in the cracks of the city to avoid his sight. You didn’t feel threatened at all when you spoke in the bar; part of you knew that this man was in no way harmless, but he didn’t go out of his way to intimidate.

But now, even with the same relaxed posture and the same informal tone, his presence was sending strong chills down your spine with your brain screaming DANGER.

Giran leaned in, elbows resting on his thighs and a lit cigarette tucked between his fingers. The hanging bulbs illuminated only parts of his face, leaving the rest in a menacing shadow. “How have you been?”

You had no idea how to answer that. “F-fine?”

He gave a satisfied hum, as if he cared about your wellbeing. “That’s good to know. You’ve been hard to contact lately, so I had no idea.”

You swallowed, or at least you tried, but your throat was forgetting how to work properly. “I…” A cough escaped you. “I’ve been busy.”

His gruff chuckle unsettled you. “Of course. We’re all so busy these days, aren’t we? I’m not the type to stick my nose in others’ business, but may I ask what you’ve been so busy with? Hopefully something that involved gathering my money?” There it was.

Creating some more distance between your potential killer might help you think a little more clearly through the loud beating in your head, so you crawl backwards on shaky limbs like a drunk crab. “Y-yes! I’ve been doing my best, it’s just that I ran into a little problem an—” You bumped into something, turning your head to see a man looming over you. His attire was sharp, like that of a showman—even had a damn top hat. However, the mask he wore was rather ominous, the strange pattern resembling an abstract face. He didn’t budge when you had backed into his leg, only looking down at you as if you were a scared kitten.

In the corner of your vision you noticed the burnt one leaning back against the wall, watching you with disinterest. If it weren’t for the cold stare and the peril that he’s already put you through, you’d dare to admit that the greenish-blue hue of his eyes were kind of pretty.

“Don’t mind them,” Giran said with a lazy wave. “Those two are being kind enough to stick around in case I need them again. So, you were saying?”

You tried to recall where you were in your improvised excuse, and decided that you couldn’t risk having such a lie backfire. “I-I’m working on it. I have most of it so far. I just need a little more time.”

Giran’s face didn’t change. “And how much do you have?”

“Um…I…” What the hell do you say? Are you just digging yourself deeper? Is it possible to go any deeper? “Maybe I don’t have most, but I will soon so—”

“How much do you have?” It was firmer this time, making you shrink back. Dancing around his question wasn’t a good idea.

With a shaky breath, you answered quietly, “A hundred thousand yen.”

Giran placed the cigarette between his lips and took a long drag before blowing out a small cloud of toxic fumes. “A hundred thousand…of my three hundred thousand yen.”

Fuck, when he says it like that, maybe that is a lot of money to be missing out on.

You honestly wished he would show some sort of anger; his unwavering calmness was making you more anxious than any kind of rage.

“Can you tell me what you didn’t understand?” He asked.

“Huh? What…do you mean?” You couldn’t hold back the tremble in your voice.

“When we talked, I thought I made my measures clear. I give you the weapons, you pay me within the next five days. For every late day, I add more to what you already owe me. And if you take way too long, I’ll have to personally show you why you shouldn’t make deals where you can’t hold up your end.” He took another drag. You’re getting a feeling that the shrinking roll of tobacco is playing a big role in maintaining his leveled head. “Well, that all sounds clear to me, but there must be something in that explanation that didn’t get through to you, because you just ignored all of it.” Those final words were topped with a humorless laugh.

Just like that, every foolish decision you’ve made during the past week slams down on you. You were like a child that was confident they could escape whatever punishments were planned for them, now that they were finally caught, they just wanted to blubber endless apologies in hopes of being forgiven, and that’s exactly what you do. “Please, please just give me more time. I’m sorry. I just need another chance.”

Giran simply rests his head in one of his hands while pondering. “You know, this normally wouldn’t bother me. I consider myself an even-tempered guy. But you just had to go and run, avoiding my calls and hiding away for an entire week. If there’s anything that steams me up,” his brows furrowed, the first physical sign of anger that he’s shown. “It’s when an uncooperative client runs from me. Sorry about your friend, but I had to make sure I got my point across. Now it’s your turn.”

He reached into his violet jacket and pulled out a knife. Most of it was a large bulky handle, topped with a short but efficiently thin and curved blade. A wood carving knife.

As he rose from his chair and approached, you were suppressing the urge to just laugh at your own distress, a habit of yours that has caused more than one misunderstanding in the past.

“Compress, if you will.” Giran’s hand beckoned you upwards.

The man still behind you, apparently named Compress, locked both of your wrists at your back before pulling you up on your feet. “Hey-I-Wha-Wait a minute! We can talk! I can fix this!” You stuttered in pure desperation. Giran was poking at the tip of the knife and testing its sharpness, paying no attention to your pleas.

“It’s a shame, really. I happen to have one major weakness,” he admitted while inspecting his pricked finger. “Women. I’m always going easy on them—giving them more chances than they deserve. I can’t help it.” He grips your cheeks roughly, making you squeak. “And it really breaks my heart that I have to ruin such a pretty lady.”

“You don’t have to.” Your squished puckered lips sputter out, making you look and sound ridiculous. “Maybe I cou—"

The knife hovering so close to your face silences you. “Where should I start?” He wondered. You hold as still as possible while the sharp metal lingers dangerously close to your eye. “Maybe I should take out an eye? Maybe both?” His grip on your face prevents you from turning away, so you shut your eyes instead, accidentally releasing the tears that have been gathering in the corners. You feel his hand lower to hold your chin so that he can press the blade against the side of your face, so close to breaking skin. “Or maybe I’ll carve out your cheeks?” A thumb brushes against your lips and pushes past them. “You are quite a talker. Maybe I ought to go in there and remove that tongue.”

Your eyes remain closed, trying to focus on something else. The full-body tremors that you couldn’t stop, the press of Compress’s body against your back as he held onto your wrists, anything but the deadly blade trailing across your flesh. Every time the cruel man applied pressure, you braced yourself for the pain of cold steel cutting into you like fresh produce, but he would always pull back. It was pure torture and he hasn’t even harmed you yet.

“Hmm, you really are a cute one,” you heard him murmur as the knife trailed down your neck and across your collar. “Do I really want to carve such pretty skin?”

There was a loud groan, prompting your eyes to open and look to the burnt one who left his post at the wall. “For fuck’s sake, old man. How about I handle this so you don’t have to play mental tug-o-war with yourself?”

Giran didn’t seem fazed by the crude way he was addressed. “Oh? What did you have in mind, Dabi?”

Dabi gave an evil smirk of his own as he walked over. “I wonder how badly I can burn a person without killing them.” A scarred hand was placed on your shoulder and you squirmed at the rising heat. “Maybe we can find out together. How about it, girlie?”

You felt the other man behind you shake with a soft laugh. “So cruel, Dabi. I’m a gentleman myself. I could help, but taking a limb or two from such a beauty would be an unforgivable crime.” The implication of what he could do with his quirk made you fear for your arms that were still in his grasp.

“Great. Chivalry isn’t dead in the world of villains.” Dabi rolled his eyes. “You’re not wrong, though. She doesn’t look bad.”

There were too many hands on you. A rough aged hand caressed your throat and jaw, a gloved hand was tenderly running through your hair, and burned ones were shamelessly groping your chest and squishing your breasts. “Stop! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut it.” Dabi snapped, not letting up his assault. “Burning you might be a waste. Maybe I should just fuck you instead.”

Your stomach twisted in disgust at the very thought. The other two men pulled back and stilled at the suggestion. This nasty motherfucker wishes he’d get some. At least there were more reasonable voices in the room to keep the sicko away.

“Well now, that’s not a bad idea.” Giran declared with a nod of approval.

‘Ex-fucking-scuse me?’

Compress gave your shoulder a suggestive squeeze. “A vulgar way of putting it, but it’s an idea I can get behind.”

“Then it looks like we’ve all come to a new agreement.” The sleazebag exhaled smoke right into your face, stinging your already watery eyes and forcing several coughs out of you. “I hope you’re alright with that, darling.”

You shook your head fast enough to disorient yourself. “No! This is sick! Get your hands off me!”

“No good, huh? You think I should stick to the original plan?” Dabi dared you with a dazzling blue flame appearing in his palm. The memory of his scorching touch had you freezing up. “I’m just kidding, I don’t give a shit if you want this or not. This ain’t a friendly hookup.”

Compress leaned into your ear, voice sounding horribly close even with the mask protecting you from his lips. “I’m going to let you go now, and you’re going to cooperate with us, right? Surely you know how outmatched you are.”

Yes, you knew, yet there’s a little voice strongly urging you to fight and attempt an escape anyway. But you knew that will only end in pain and possibly death, and even though you were dreading what they had planned for you, the pitiful survivor in you is willing to sacrifice your dignity to stay alive. And so, you nodded.

“Very good,” you heard the smile in his praise. Your tender wrists were released so that he could take the hem of your shirt and slowly begin to pull it up. Your arms remained stiffly at your sides, the oppressive air around the three dangerous villains suffocating and leaving you light-headed.

“Cooperation, remember?” Compress reminded you.

With a hitched breath, you raised your arms, allowing him to peel the shirt off and throw it aside. Dabi wasted no time in exploring your newly revealed skin, while the gloved hands moved on to work at your bra and Giran undid your pants. You try to keep your breathing steady as you’re stripped, even when your pants fall down to your ankles. The second your bra is unclasped, you move to cover your freed breasts, only for the scarred bastard to slap your arms away.

“Quit it, I’m trying to feel you up,” He wasn’t very gentle in handling you, and his texture was so strange, wrinkled skin and the staples keeping him together scraping across your mounds. While he ventured lower, the other two men took their turn with your feminine assets.

Giran was fondling you slowly, but he seemed to be paying much more attention to your face, the face that you were having a very hard time keeping blank while Compress was massaging your other breast way too tenderly. It would help to shut your eyes once again, but that only enhances their touches, sparking goosebumps all over and threatening to pull a moan from your throat. You chose to look to the side and hide away from the broker’s dull gaze, but there was no avoiding Dabi’s hand palming your clothed sex, making you yelp. “AH! Don’t! You can’t just—”

He squeezed you down there, sending a foreign buzz through your abdomen. “What the hell did I just say?” He scolded. “I think I know how to shut you up.”

Giran made an amused hum. “Well Dabi, given you were the one who suggested this, I’ll grant you the honor of teaching her a lesson first.”

Your stomach dropped at the rough lips parting into a toothy grin. “You’re too kind.”

“Just don’t ruin her too quickly, alright?” Compress urged him before patting your back and stepping away. Giran also turned away and returned to his chair, leaning back with one leg crossing over the other.

The only one holding you now was the fiery villain; it had you sweating profusely even without the use of his quirk.

“Now, on your knees,” he ordered and pushed down onto your shoulders, forcing you to kneel. Your chest was tightening painfully when he unbuckled his belt to draw his half-hard cock. It wasn’t exactly any comfort, but it was wholly intact unlike the rest of him. “Start sucking.”

You kept your lips sealed and shook your head, only to have your hair grabbed and yanked back. Your pained cry was all he needed to shove his meat into your mouth. Your shout changed into a gag from the fleshy intrusion.

“Sweetheart,” the pet name was uttered with a mocking venom. “I’m trying to give you the benefit of a doubt and believe that you don’t have the memory of a dead goldfish, but in case you do, let me remind you that we brought you here to hurt you.” That dreaded heat was back, his hand threatening to call those blue flames and set your hair ablaze. “So which would you rather deal with: being carved and burned into a bloody mess, or having to please a couple of dicks? Doesn’t the latter sound more bearable?”

You couldn’t pull back to answer, his hold on your head tight and unyielding, so you nodded.

But for some reason, that didn’t satisfy him. “I need you say it. Come on, you can do it.”

‘No I can’t, you overcooked motherfucker! What do you want from me?’ Having no idea what to do but also not wanting to try his patience any further, you worked your voice around the thick rod and managed a choked and barely comprehensible “mmyeff.”

The sloshed word made Dabi laugh and you felt him twitch on your tongue. “Cute. That’s good enough. Now put that mouth to work so I won’t have to turn your head into a torch.”

Admitting defeat, you moved your head to take in more of his growing erection, wriggling your tongue in a poor attempt to get away from his salty taste, only to stimulate him in the process. You feel him respond with shaky breaths, but the fact that you’re servicing this terrible man doesn’t make you want to try any harder.

Dabi realizes your slow pace isn’t changing and his grumpiness quickly returns. “Oh come on, put a little more energy into it. A quirkless bitch living in the worst part of town, this can’t be the first time you’ve had to suck dick to save your life.” You look up and glare at him, which didn’t do much to intimidate when you were blowing him at the same time. He only smirked. “If you don’t pick up the pace, then I’ll have to take charge, and I don’t think you’d want that.”

You push yourself to put in more effort, taking in more of his now fully swollen cock and gagging pathetically. Despite what the singed shithead had guessed, you weren’t experienced with this. Your sex life boils down to a couple of hookups. This hectic existence with its cast of untrustworty characters wasn’t suitable for any kind of serious relationship, and sexual favors were something you tried to avoid as much as possible. Those rare nights with a partner were nothing like this, and you sure as hell would never ask for a fucking audience. A wisp of smoke nearby reminded you of Giran’s presence.

The sick broker was just sitting and watching with interest, his smirk still present. He seemed satisfied with just watching you in this humiliating state. Compress stood out of sight, but he was most likely doing the same. It made you just want to curl up and hide from these hungry eyes.

You heard a tired sigh over you as Dabi adjusted his grip and was now holding both sides of your face.There was no warning when he thrusted forward to jam himself into the back of your throat, the sting making your eyes well up.

“Sorry, but I think I’ve given you enough chances,” Dabi panted while reveling in the feel of your mouth all around him. His cock slid back and allowed you to breathe for just a second or two before plunging back in.

Breathing through your nose was the only option as he pumped in and out of your throat with little restraint. You gurgled helplessly and tried to push at his thighs to keep him from going so deep, but that only made him chuckle and fuck your mouth more roughly. He was in complete control now, so all you could do was take it as best as you could. Saliva gathered as your throat was violated, some of it oozing past your lips and running down your chin.

“Look at you, turning into a drooling mess for my cock. You like having your mouth fucked just like a pussy?” Demeaning words were spoken between his grunts, commenting on the depraved state of your face—you could only imagine how you looked at the moment with your extra lubricated mouth allowing him to move in and out more easily.

The erratic slams of his hips against your face signaled that this torture will be ending soon, as long as you could endure the assault on your windpipe that was making you dizzy. Any cry of distress or plea to slow down was reduced to wet gurgles and more spit bubbling from your mouth. With a teeth-clenched growl, Dabi presses your face flush against his pelvis, engulfed by his musky scent as cum shoots straight down your throat. Black spots were appearing in your vision with both your nose and throat blocked. ‘Can’t breathe…can’t…’

“Hang in there, just need to make sure you swallow every last drop.” He keeps your head locked in place so that you could feel every spasm as he feeds you his seed. Finally, he releases you and steps back, allowing oxygen to rush into your lungs as you coughed and wheezed.

“Whoops, maybe I went a little overboard,” Dabi joked at your shaking form that was hunched over hacking up a mixture of saliva and semen. That fucking bastard…

“You think?” A sarcastic remark sounded from an approaching presence behind you. Compress kneels beside you, placing a hand on your back as your coughing fit slowly died down. “That’s not my ideal way of punishing a lady. Wouldn’t you agree, Giran?”

You didn’t have the strength to look at said man and the amused expression that he was undoubtedly wearing. “I’m not picky myself. It was a good show,” you heard him say. You can physically feel your dignity leaving you.

“Well, I can give you a better one.” The phony gentleman grabbed and straightened you up. You noticed that he had removed his hat, his head concealed by what may be a ski mask. It was strangely symbolic—beneath all of that pizzazz was just another unforgiving criminal. “Dabi certainly did a number on you, didn’t he?” He observed, fingers tracing over your chest and the drying drool that had trailed down. You heard a “damn right” from Dabi who had returned to his spot at the wall. “Don’t worry, darling. I won’t leave you so roughed up.”

His words did nothing to alleviate the growing fear as his hand wandered down to your panties, fingers pressing against the damp cloth. “Oh my…and here I was thinking he was being too hard on you. Looks like you didn’t hate it as much as I thought.”

You shuddered at the small chorus of laughter from all three men. Dabi took the opportunity to taunt you again. “I had a feeling she was the type that loves being treated like a hole. The bitch probably would have gotten off if I went a little longer, not that she deserves to.”

“Ah, but I think she does. In fact,” Compress pulled the underwear to the side and touched your slick directly, making you gasp. “I’d say she deserves more than she can handle.”

“N…St…op…” Your voice was hoarse from the abuse your throat had gone through. His fingers began soft strokes against your glistening folds, a feeling that wasn’t unpleasant, but you held back your whimpers to avoid both the vocal strain and giving him any gratification.

The gloved digits moved skillfully across your sensitive lips, kindling a hot desire deep inside of you. No, you really didn’t want to be feeling that from him. Your own hands curl into fists when you feel him prod at your opening, just barely penetrating you and making you bite your lip in a painful effort to suppress a moan.

He looks right at you; you can only guess what face he was making. “Trying not to make any noise, are you?” His free hand removed the patterned mask, revealing chocolate eyes and a smile that wasn’t at all sweet. “I sure do love a challenge. Then again, I already know that I’ll win.”

Any retort you had prepared died on your lips when two fingers slipped into your heat, unable to hold back your whimper even with your mouth closed. “There it is,” he purred close to your face. “But I think we can do better.”

Your cunt throbbed with each brush against your walls. He couldn’t go too deep in your current position, but that didn’t deter him as he pistoned in and out, flexing his fingers every which way until he found that forbidden spot that made you wail. The white hot heat was threatening to smother you completely. You found yourself grasping his arm and weakly pushing at it, silently begging to make it stop before you burst.

‘Don’t look ahead…Giran is watching…don’t look ahead…’ The mantra repeated in your head, echoing loudly to distract you from the unstable knot in your core. The inner chant was to no avail—several hard presses against your nerves had you crumbling beneath the searing heat of your climax. With no restraint remaining, your broken whines rushed out of your convulsing body and echoed through the room. A thumb circles your clit and prolongs the all-powerful sensation.

“Try to bear it, darling.” Compress says to you, but his voice sounds so far away, drowned out by the vibrations starting from your pussy and spreading all over, engulfing you. Even after your orgasm passes, the assault on your sensitive womanhood doesn’t stop, the sensations becoming painful. You would have fallen over if Compress wasn’t holding you, his arm wrapped around you in an insultingly affectionate embrace as he continued to overstimulate you. The words falling from your lips were weak and incoherent, the occasional ‘no’ and ‘too much’ being heard.

Sobbing in the villain’s shoulders, you can make out the blurred violet figure in your foggy vision, still lounging and taking silent delight in your struggles. You just barely noticed the slight curve of his lips as Compress forced you to cum again, pitting your muscles against another wave of excruciating spasms. This time he did let you collapse, your body sprawled out on the floor as your walls continued to clench.

“Hmmph, not bad.” Dabi can be heard, and his voice alone makes your throat burn again.

Compress was still close, curiously squishing your juices between his fingers. “I could have gone for longer, but she still needs energy for the main act.”

You hear a dark laugh from Giran. “So generous of you Compress. What would I do without you gentlemen? Just do me one more favor and remove the rest of your clothes.”

“Of course,” the showman moved over to fully strip you. You stayed limp as he pulled your drenched panties down along with your pants that were still hanging at your feet, then moving on to remove your shoes. You were now completely bare, body shivering despite the warm still air of the room.

“Alright, miss. That’s enough rest. Time to get up and come over here.” Giran orders coolly. There was no urgency in his voice, but you knew you shouldn’t keep him waiting. If only your entire lower body wasn’t screaming. Compress sensed your plight and took hold of your waist, prepared to pull you up.

“No no,” Giran held up a hand while stomping out his cigarette. “She’s a big girl and can stand on her own.”

Compress simply shrugged and retreated, leaving you to force your aching arms and legs to move and lift you up.

Even after being violated, you still couldn’t resist covering your chest and mound as you slowly approached the man that you deeply regret ever getting involved with. You tried to ignore how gross your body felt—the salty fleshy taste lingering on your tongue, the wetness that continued to run down your  legs, your bare feet shuffling across the old dusty floor. There was a prominent bulge in his pants, revealing just how much this was all exciting him.

“Sit down and have a ride on me.” It was said so casually that you needed a moment to comprehend.

Dabi barked impatiently. “Hey, don’t just stand there like a modest statue.”

Realizing that Giran isn’t going to take out his erection himself, you lean in to open up his pants, fighting every urge to pull your hands away as they work at the buttons and zipper, pulling down his underwear to watch his cock spring out. He didn’t seem to react, only watching your face like he has been since you’ve been tossed into this damned place. You stare at his waiting dick until you accept that you have to get closer, standing over his legs before lowering yourself down onto his lap. You have to grab the soft yet firm organ to keep it in place as it touches your opening.

He was so close, smoke-scented breath hitting your skin. There was no way to avoid his gaze at this proximity. He was free to see all of the shameful details on your tear-stained face.

It pains you to admit that Compress’s fingers made the stretch more bearable as Giran’s head pushes into your cavern that was still sensitive from the previous man’s onslaught. You had to place your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself as your hips sunk down on him, breaths shallow throughout your poor attempt to stay relaxed and not tighten up. Several inches later, you had him fully sheathed inside you.

“Good. Very good.” His voice was low and rugged, eyes closing briefly so that he can take in your surrounding heat. “Now start moving. I didn’t bring you over just to keep me warm.”

You didn’t have enough pride left to protest, so you did as instructed, slowly lifting your hips before bringing them back down, ignoring the strain put on your thighs. Giran placed a hand on your ass, the contact making your pace falter for just a second. He looked so at ease as you bounced on him that you wondered, if it was just the two of you, perhaps you could have taken this as an opportunity to attack. But in the current situation, it would only lead to certain death. The thought leaves your mind as quickly as it came.

“Three days.” The two words cut through your weary breaths and the squelch of your pussy. You give Giran a look of confusion before he specifies. “I’m giving you three more days to collect the money.”

The news surprises you enough to halt your hips, an action he doesn’t approve of.

“I didn’t say stop.” The warning in his tone had you instantly moving again. He lightened at your compliance; he sure knew how to flip his friendly mode on and off like a damn light switch. “Very good. I’m trying to show you some more mercy here. Don’t ruin it for yourself. Anyway, you need to hurry and do whatever you can to get that money. Steal, call some old friends, maybe sell your body? I don’t think you’d be half-bad at that.” He gave your rear a light smack, making your walls squeeze him in shock. “If you don’t have enough by the time we meet again, your lovely body won’t stop me from peeling your skin off a second time. Are we clear, sweetheart?”

The fear from his threat grips your chest as you keep trying to please him, moving in a way that keeps his dick away from your g-spot. “Yes,” you whimper through your pants.

Giran caught on to what you were doing. “I’m not convinced.” Both of his hands take hold of your hips and push you down, forcing stimulation on your hypersensitive bundle of nerves. A scream rips through your burning throat. “I’ll say it again: Are we clear?”

“Yes!” Your voice cracks and tears are flowing down your face once again.

“You won’t run from me again?”

“No! I swear I won’t!”

“Good girl.” He was the one setting the pace at this point, forcing you up and down in pursuit of his release. There was another agonizing orgasm growing in your abdomen, but the hands controlling your movements weren’t giving you a chance to escape the inevitable storm.

The final slam collides his throbbing cock with your cervix, and the pained pleasure has you quivering in his hold, crinkling his shirt with your white-knuckled grip as you cried out from every foul spurt into your womb. His soft groans were heated against your neck.

His pats of approval on your back are enough to push your worn figure into his chest. He chuckles and rubs you like a lover that didn’t just force you into the most disgraceful moment of your life. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement.”

Despite your limbs feeling like pure lead, you wanted to get off this man as soon as possible. “Please just let me go.”

His smile filled you with a fresh wave of dread. “Soon, darling. But I need to make sure I’ve made my point. I think the other two gentlemen would appreciate a turn.”

You heard the quick footsteps before he even finished, scarred hands grabbing and pulling you off of Giran’s softening cock. Fuck, the two had been so quiet for the past moment that you forgot about their presence.

You jolt at the feel of Dabi’s revived hard-on pressing against your back while Compress stops right in front of you, his own length bobbing freely. You flinched at the damp gloves caressing your chin and lips.  “Are you ready to return the favor? Don’t worry, I won’t treat your mouth as badly as Dabi did.”

“Sadly,” The crueler man behind you added before pressing down and bending you forward, your head now leveled with Compress’s waiting dick.

“Open up for me,” he orders with a hand resting in your hair. Your jaw still ached from the last cock in your mouth; you hoped that he truly was going to at least be more gentle as you parted your lips and took him in.

Dabi rubbed up and down your spine as he watched. “Well look at you, such an obedient little bitch now.” He began to knead your ass cheeks before spreading them, your body tensing in fear as a finger toyed with your back entrance.

“I’m not a fan of sloppy seconds, guess I’ll have to take another hole.” It was the only warning he gave before his thickness was pushing forcefully into your unprepared ass. The searing pain was as intense as his quirk, your muffled shrieks vibrating against Compress and making him moan. Dabi smiled at your suffering. “Can’t complain, ‘cause this sounds a lot better. Hope I don’t do too much damage in there.”

He fucked you as hard and fast as your tight passage would allow, pushing the other villain’s dick further into your throat with each thrust.

Soon, they will switch places. And then they will take you separately. And Giran will stay seated, taking pleasure in watching you break.

Your mind eventually wanders to what will happen afterwards, if there is any possible way to right the biggest wrong you’ve ever committed…or if you simply had three days left to live.

It feels like luck is done saving you.

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

tagging @mothwithteeth​ because their thirst for Giran inspired me. Go check them and their awesome work out!

[autisticburnham]

The Way of the Warrior Parts 1 & 2

Alright!!! Finally we got the bald/beard combo!

"Bang! You're dead!" -military training

Ben and Kas are so cute

Fucking jock nerds

Martok!

I can't remember if this is actually him or not. A season and a half does seem like a long build up to reveal a changeling, but irc, they actually find out he's a changeling way before they find the real Martok in the camp

Another appearance of the trans outfit!

Knowing how coordinated Julian actually is makes this stupid popping a pea in your mouth trick is hilarious

Don't all use the same knife to cut yourself!! Get a hypo!!

I guess this is the real Martok though

Taking your friend to the holodeck to have sex... just gals being pals

Nerys' smile!!!! Ma'am, I love you so much!!!!

Weird kinda gay breakfast!

Don't be mean to Morn!

I forgot the reason Garak gets beat up was for associating with Odo

Gay bitch

Excuse me, gay bitches

Does Nerys have a different nose this season? Her ridges are far leas visible

Oh, I'm talking to the former Federation-Klingon ambassador? Well, she better get me an actual Klingon

What's up, bitch!

Oh, I guess Generations has happened

I doubt this assignment will take very long. Just four years

Deanna broke up with Worf and he decided to just leave Starfleet

Damn, Worf

Where's that post about how yes Nerys commits war crimes but how dare you ask her to cheat on her fake husband

Does Julian speak Klingon? He looks like he's enjoying Dax flirting with Worf far too much

He's hoping for a threesome

Julian looks so disappointed when he realizes Jadzia is gonna steal Worf from him

Dax, you can't just enter someone's holosuite like that

Damn, Dax lost in Blood Oath too. Writers, what the fuck, we know she can kick both of their asses

I mean, with the Obsidian Order taken out, why wouldn't civilians be able to overthrow Central Command?

Garak doesn't have any contacts? He just straight up calls Dukat?

Oh, damn! And the Khitomer Accords only got signed two movies ago

O'Brien thinks about Alexander more than Worf does

Benjamin said shut up and just do what I say, Dukat

I love Kassidy

The irony of sacrificing your morals for Dukat of all people

"And I find you offensive," Julian, I love you

Oh, is this the root beer scene?!

It is!

Can you believe this scene was intended to be comedic?

Me seeing all those Birds of Prey:

"I'm gonna kill him" "With what?" is one of my favorite exchanges in the franchise

Finally! They let Dax kick some Klingon ass!

Miles telling Worf he looks good in red... trying to bring him into the polycule

Pretty good premiere. 7/10