#he will blow a grenade in your face

[shininas-ideals]

I spy with my little eye... A KUNIKIDA PFP

I mean-

Have you SEEN this man?

How can I NOT want THIS face in my blog always?

[lorasdolly]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐍' 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ; ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴅᴏʟʟʏ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ; ɪɴ ᴢᴀᴜɴ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ꜱᴀᴠᴇꜱ ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀɴ ᴀᴍʙᴜꜱʜ ᴜꜱɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ꜱᴄʏᴛʜᴇ. ɢʀᴀᴛᴇꜰᴜʟ, ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀ, ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ—ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ—ɪɴ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ; ʟᴇꜱʙɪᴀɴ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴄᴏᴜʀꜱᴇ, ᴏʀᴀʟ (ʀ!ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ), ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ, ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ꜱᴜʙꜱᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴜꜱᴇ, ꜱᴍᴏᴋɪɴɢ.

(more of dolly!reader :3) not proof read :c

you grabbed your stuff, throwing a few things into a small pink bag. it was rather late, you were supposed to meet up with sevika ages ago, and yet here you were still packing things up.

it was dark and eery in your room, like it usually was.

bombs disguised as uncanny dolls and the scent of all sorts of bodily fluids flooding the place.

as you went to tie your shoes, the loud noise of destruction sounded. a thud across the building, usually never a sign of good news.

you squealed and jumped off the bed, a loud sigh exiting your mouth.

pursing your lips, you hesitated on whether to check it out or not. truly it was none of your business.

but the fleeting concern of it perhaps being sevika entered your mind, making you grab two doll shaped grenades are your tiny scythe.

leaving the rest of the bag behind, you hurried outside the apartment, the horrible scent of zaun flushing in.

while you ran towards the continuous stream of noise, pink dust came from the doll in your hand.

"awh shit," you whined, huffing a bit as you kept running.

they were fragile, delicate and to be treated with care. you designed them that way to ensure not even the make belief girls got neglected before explosion.

but the pep in your step must have ruined something in them, causing the timer to set off.

your pace increased, reaching the railing and stairs where you see sevika getting ambushed by multiple people.

since silco died, the people who respected her decreased.

you told her you'd made sure they remembered who kept them in check, and maybe just now was the right time to show it.

your breathing was uneven, deciding between running down the stairs to have close combat or throwing the soon-to-explode time bomb in your hand.

as the pink dust grew more consistent and the blood coming from sevika began to seep, you mindlessly threw the doll shaped bomb into the fight.

it caused an explosion between sevika and those who were attacking her, pink fire lighting up the trash around them.

a pout graced your face as you saw the doll blow to ashes but you snapped back, jumping down from the railing to vacantly swing your scythe around.

sevika's eyes widened, a low groan leaving her lips as she backed up to not get injured any further.

she watched as you had that little concentrated look on your face, your tongue slightly sticking out.

she let out a dark chuckle, fixing some shimmer into her arm as you kept fighting off the group of men who attempted to hurt sevika.

you pushed a man into the bundle of pink fire behind him, smirking and giggling with the cute scythe in your hand.

you grabbed the other doll-like bomb, setting it off right beneath the man, flinching as it went off.

you thought that was about it, all the men were gone.

you stood there panting, wiping blood away from your lips from the few hits you took.

the scent of metal mixed with sweat took over your nostrils, blood overwhelming your taste buds too.

you hated messes, especially when the messes were on you.

a groan left your lips, the sight of a dead man's half-burned corpse residing in front of you infuriated you more.

right when you were about to turn around to seek out sevika, another man came up behind you, ready to attack.

he was able to push you back a bit, but didn't have the time to do more when sevika ran towards the both of you.

her mechanical fist that was just enhanced by shimmer instantly made contact with the man's face, his body going numb and slamming against the closest wall.

you yelp at the sudden scare, pouting at the fact you didn't get the last hit. "totally not fair!" you complained and whined, hands finding your hips.

sevika was about to speak again, staring your bloody but somehow cute figure up and down when she saw the man who was supposed to be dead show up behind you.

your peripheral vision caught on, huffing and turning around fully to swing your scythe.

your scythe burned through the man's neck, blood splattering on your face and hair.

"eugh- gross!" you exclaimed the moment he fell at your feet.

"not interested," your shoe met his head, kicking it away.

finally, your gaze was able to peacefully meet sevika's. a small smirk painted her features.

"since when are you a fighting doll," she teased, hand running through her hand as she stood up straight.

"i knew you were a stupid doll, and surely a good doll, but fighting? color me suprised." she continued throwing mocking taunts towards you, walking to tower over you.

"hey! i saved your ass, expecting some gratitude any time soon." you said with a petulant expression on your face.

"language, doll." sevika said with a lifted brow.

her hand grabbed your chin forcefully, constraining you to look up at her. "awfully mouthy for such a small doll."

you stayed silent, embracing the small moment of her dominance. even after a violent moment, she knew how to revert you back to normal.

pliant and a mindless mess.

"mind telling me where'd you find that sharp weapon?" sevika continued, her lips on a flat line.

"jinx got it for me.." your bottom lip extended outward and she brushed her thumb over it.

"now look at you, a bloody mess, doll." she said with a certain edge of approval.

"but i helped you-" you hurried to the defensive, wanting sevika to understand why you did that.

"that you did." sevika's thumb removed blood from your face, or smudging it if anything.

your face lightened up, realizing she wasn't disappointed but infact proud.

you've gotten many reactions from sevika, but very rarely has she been proud.

"i even got all dirty for you.." you said with a sulky glint in your eyes.

"that too, doll." she acknowledged, her mechanical hand grazing over the soft supple skin of your hips and waist.

"i deserve something in return for being so good!" you kept rambling, furrowed brows as you made suggestions.

she chuckled, not fully paying attention to your words but instead focusing on how you look right:

"gettin' ahead of yourself, huh? who said you're in a spot to make demands?" she teased, desperate to see your reaction.

your confident look reverted into a sad puppy, needing reassurance. "not demands, just.. suggestions."

she nodded, finally focusing her gaze on your eyes instead of letting them wander. "good, good."

sevika cancelled her plans of going to the last drop and gambling a few pretty pennies away, instead choosing a pretty doll to entertain her.

she laid you on her bed instead of yours, knowing you hated getting your room messy.

but also because those dolls of yours secretly made her uneasy.

she begun kissing down your neck, licking any blood residue off of you. "poor doll, got all fuckin' dirty f'me." she spoke, muffled words against your neck.

both her real and mechanical hand studied your curves, relishing the moment with a sense of reverence.

she was taunting your tendency of hating dirt, but you were too pleased to notice any of the little details.

"whatdya' need, doll. use your words." sevika reached your belly button with her lips, tracing hearts with her tongue.

"y-you, sevika, please" the desperation in your words seeped through, your hands tangling in her hair as she toyed with the hem of your panties.

slowly lifting them and then releasing them so they'd snap back against your pelvis.

"i need your mouth, sevika." you said, struggling to even form coherent thoughts let alone sentences.

she chuckled against your hips, sliding down your panties. "lift your hips f'me, doll."

you did as asked, arching your back and lifting your hips.

you squirmed the moment the cold breeze hit your core, whining in need.

she put testing kisses on your pussy, then a teasingly slow stripe against your folds.

"shiiit- shit, sevika," your words were breathy, your hands tugging at her hair.

"mind your words, doll." she spoke firmly, finally latching onto your clit with hunger.

"oh- oh my god, fuck-" you whimpered, disregarding her previous orders.

she brought her mechanical arm to hold you down, stopping your squirming as she ate you like a starved woman.

"putting your life at risk f'me, thank you baby, mmff fuck," she spoke against your core, the vibrations being sent down your spine and straight to your clit.

"sevika- sevika please, so close-" you whine, head thrown back against the mattress.

"cum f'me, doll," she said, lapping at your cunt. her hips bucked against the mattress, need overwhelming her too.

but tonight was about you, she'd make sure of that.

you came undone all over her tongue as she made sure to swallow every drop.

you panted, staring down at her bigger frame and the way she rutted her hips against the mattress.

she pulled away, quick to lather your neck in kisses again before landing on your lips.

she kissed you tenderly with a tone of passion she couldn't avoid.

"se..sevika." you spoke at a breath.

"shh, rest." she got up, standing on her two feet before throwing a blanket on top of you.

her hands rummaged the drawer besides her bed for a cigarillo and lighter. as she grabbed them, she found herself sitting on the edge of the bed.

she took a long drag and shifted her head away to not locate the smoke against your face.

you crawled silently towards her, the blanket still draped over your back. you reach for her bicep, needing warmth.

she looked down at you and went back towards her drawer, taking out a small pill that was the color pink.

she brought it towards your lips, immediately your lips parted and tongue sticked out.

she placed it on the small of your tongue as you retreated it back inside your mouth, letting it dissolve.

you shut your eyes and melt away, still grasping at her bicep.

"i'll get ya' a towel." she spoke quietly before standing up and heading towards the bathroom.

[irisintheafterglow]

Can I request a racer!bakugo showing off his two most precious things after winning a big race, the trophy and his girl pleaseee?

THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE LOVE LOVE <33 also i can't find it but this is definitely inspired by that one bakugo fic where he's doing a vogue interview about the things he can't leave the house or live without (if anyone knows the link for it please please let me know because it's one of my all-time favorites)

"oh, look! it's bakugo! hey, man!"

"the hell are you doing outside my house?" the interviewer laughs nervously behind the camera, but your boyfriend's scowl doesn't move. it's a wonder that he's still viewed positively in the public eye despite his brash personality. you pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers and avert your eyes from the second-floor window, sending another prayer begging for him to behave. the interview took place in his own home, for crying out loud. shouldn't he be the most comfortable in his safest space?

the answer is, unfortunately, no.

"i'm uh, here for your '73 questions' interview with vogue. d'you mind if i step inside with you?" he grunts reluctantly in response, swinging the front door open unceremoniously. you pity the poor guy who had to follow your husband around and chuck questions at him like armed grenades; there was always a chance that he would blow up. "so, where were you coming from?"

"grocery store. you want a drink?" good. at least he remembers his manners. "we got water, juice...i ain't giving you alcohol. i don't even know who the hell you are." never mind.

you spend the next 12-something minutes following their one-sided conversation around the house, careful to stay out of sight and silently begging your boyfriend to at least act a little warmer. the only time he does open up, much to the delight of fans, is when he's talking about you.

"'the things most precious to me?' i don't fuckin' know," you can hear him say plainly. you'd resigned to your shared bedroom to finish up some work when you heard the telltale calls of babe, c'mere! babe. babe. babe! from downstairs. with a huff, you set down your pen and make your way into the living room, where you see him holding his latest first-place trophy. it shines under the afternoon sun coming through the backyard windows. the camera pans to you in surprise and you thank your earlier self for wearing something other than pajamas.

"babe, c'mere," he insists and you roll your eyes in exasperation. his arm slips around your waist and you're suddenly hyperaware of the camera that's going to post your image to millions of people. "alright, nerd, you asked me what i wanna show off? they're right here," he boasts proudly and your face starts to heat up. "got my badass lover, my big-ass trophy, and i don't need anything else," he says with unexpected tenderness. "you got that?"

"y-yeah, i got it," the interviewer stutters out. "uh, thank you-"

"the hell do you look so nervous for? i don't fuckin' bite," he says and the man stammers again. "i don't know why i bother doing all this shit," he murmurs in your ear.

"this is why outlets are so scared to interview you, kats," you whisper and he shrugs indifferently. "you scare reporters too easily."

"don't care. i just wanna relax and spend my day off with you. i'm too tired to be dealing with this shit," he grumbles and you laugh under your breath. "baby?"

"hmm?"

"can you do me a big favor?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously while the cameraman fumbles about with his equipment, packing up to leave.

"depends on the favor," you say carefully. "will i need to compromise my morals?" your boyfriend barks out a laugh, and the reporter startles.

"no, no. nothing like that," he reassures you and drops his volume so that only you can hear him. "baby, sweetheart, love of my life?"

"yes, katsuki?"

"please get this man the fuck out of our house."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[shadow4-1]

Hi! Idk if you take requests, but if you do I was wondering if I could request a 141 x reader where they're on a mission and at some point a grenade gets thrown at them and they don't have enough time to run away so reader pulls a Steve Rogers and throws herself onto it to prevent the damage done to the rest of the squad? If not that's totally fine too, ik it's kinda sad lol. Btw I love your writing it's super good, especially the 141 x shy reader. 💕

I like this idea! It's very heroic and a lil' sad. And, to be quite frank, would've been a much more heroic way for Soap to have gone out in MW3! Here's my take on this prompt:

Shit. Shit. Shit.

How the hell are you going to do this?

Gaz is alive but unconscious, Ghost is on his knees, and Soap is face down in a pool of subway grit. You can't hear, you know your eardrums are blown out from the blast. Price dashed off after Makarov.

On shaky ankles you step around the bodies of friend and foe alike. You can feel the atmosphere bend with the whiz of bullets but you can't hear them shattering the checkerboard tile.

You manage to get over Soap first. He's breathing. He's really fucking heavy too, all dead weight and limp. With all of your adrenaline strength you manage to brute force him over onto his back. He's got some shrapnel in his jaw and littered all over his kit, but nothing too visibly deep.

There's a hand on your shoulder. It's so heavy it nearly brings you down to the floor. You scream, but you can't hear it, only feel the vibration in your chest.

It's Ghost. His eyes are wide, bloodshot, and completely crazed. You can't tell if he's talking because of his mask. He's still on his knees, and his body dips to the side before he rights himself with a jerk. You know your Lt. well enough to know something is seriously wrong with him, but he's conscious, and therefore not your top priority.

Gaz is.

You glance over at your other team member. He's slouched over against a pillar. He's barely awake with eyes rolling and lips bloody. You make a mad dash over to him. You trust Ghost will take care of Soap to at least get him to safety.

You feel more bullets bending around you but it doesn't matter. You're probably hit already and you just can't feel it. Your boots lose purchase in some grime and you slip. You crawl the last few feet to Gaz. He doesn't see you or focus on you even as you fill up his vision.

You try to mutter something to him but you can't hear it and you doubt he can either.

The entire subway platform vibrates. You can feel the rattling of a train whoosh by behind you. You really hope Price caught Makarov. Just as the train passes you by you feel another explosion. Hot air blows down the tunnel followed by a red glint.

Oh no.

You wrap your arms tight around Gaz's neck and pull him down to the floor. He coughs up blood tinged saliva onto your vest. You tuck your body around him, cradling his head against your chest. You realize he's missing his hat as you press your face against the crown of his head. One of his hands weakly grabs at the side clasp of your vest.

For that last moment before disaster strikes, you desperately hope he has no idea what's going on.

[sh4dys]

Ivy » Matt Sturniolo

summary: he didn’t realize you felt the same way, and couldn’t believe it when he heard you say it.

warnings: gn!reader, no use if y/n

A/N: i love lover boy matt , can you tell?

You and Matt were always close, mostly through Nick being your best friend. Matt had a thing for you, it was somewhat obvious. Anytime he saw you he’d feel his heart start racing, his palms would get sweaty, and he’d start trying to impress you however he could.

In high-school he’d invite you to any and all of his lacrosse games and practices, pointing you out on the bleachers if you actually showed up. He’d give you his old jerseys to wear, scooping you up in his arms after a game, and saying how happy he was to see you.

During prom season he gathered up a few of his friends and his brothers to help ask you to go with him, doing it after a lacrosse game where everyone could see. He was over the moon when you said yes, even though you both agreed you were going as just friends.

After graduation he’d invite you back to his house a lot more often, most of the time driving to yours to pick you up. He’d take you to get food or cook something for you, put on one of your favorite movies, and cuddle with you on the couch. When/if you fell asleep he’d stay still so he wouldn’t wake you, even if he was in pain.

It became painfully obvious that he was in love with you, but the title of just friends hung over your heads like a grenade, ready to blow up everything if it dropped.

You on the other hand weren’t as obvious about it, keeping on the down low and being more subtle about your feelings.

On his birthday you’d of course get his brothers something, but you’d go out of your way to take him out somewhere. Whether it was the movies, a store he liked, or a restaurant. Your always spoil him as much as you could.

When he had a part time job that he’d go to after lacrosse practice, you’d show up and eat lunch with him. You’d bring his favorite every turn, occasionally throwing in some sweets for him as well.

Whenever you’d go over you’d purposely fall asleep, trying to make sure you were in the most comfortable position for him. You’d ask if you two could just lay down sometimes or just go into his room, and thankfully he would agree, giving you full access to simply lay on his chest with your arms around him.

Somehow he didn’t realize your feelings, even if you were trying to make them more obvious over the years.

Today was one of those days, you were all over him. You were holding his hand while out shopping, leaning on his shoulder when you two sat down, you even sat on his lap when you and his brothers got back to the house.

You were somewhat annoyed that he hadn’t realized. He could tell you were upset about something, but didn’t know how to ask. Eventually pulling you aside into his room.

“What’s up with you today? You’ve been so clingy and now you’re, like, mad at me.” He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, looking at you with a confused and frustrated expression.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, running a hand through your hair. “You’re oblivious.” You mumbled under your breath, earning a scoff from him. “What do you mean? It’s not like you’re trying to tell me something.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, looking at him with a subtle scowl. “Jeez, I don’t know Matt. Maybe I’ve just been trying to hint to the fact I’m in love with you?” You narrowed your eyes at him, hands at your sides as you waited for him to say something—anything.

His face dropped at your words. Love? You were in love with him? His jaw was practically on the floor, staring at you with disbelief. You could feel your stomach churn as you waited for him to say something, only to feel his arms wrap around you and pull you close.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.” He mumbled against your neck, holding you close to him as he smiled against your skin. You slowly wrapped your arms around him as well, leaning your head on his shoulder with a content sigh.

“I love you too, y’know. I think it was kind of obvious though.” You chuckled slightly at his words, looking at him with a raised brow. “Kind of? Please, it was extremely obvious.”

He rolled his eyes and kissed your head, smiling down at you. “Do you actually mean it?” He spoke softly, brows knitted together as he pressed his lips together.

“Yes, I mean it. I love you.” You spoke reassuringly, placing a hand on the side of his face.

“I better not be dreaming right now.” He chuckled softly, leaning down and connected your lips to his slowly, his hands holding your sides as he kept you close to him.

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Consorts [Part 3]

The Ghoul|Cooper Howard x F!Bounty Hunter!Reader

Part 1 // Part 2 // <- -> // Part 4 // Part 5 //

Summary: The Reader and Cooper continue on their travels before running into some of the men hunting them down. One of them get hurt and they must retreat.

a/n: apologies in advance for this leaving on a slutty cliff hanger lmao

~~~

Cooper stood before you. Dapper in his attire, cleaned up in a suit and tie. His face was the same, but he bared a bright white smile. You were dressed in a vintage housewife dress, your hair fixed in an updo. It felt like a scene from one of those old black and white shows you used to watch.

He took one of your hands in his, the other going to the small of your back. He dipped you before beginning a ballroom-esc dance. Twirling you around, your dress dancing along.

"You look gorgeous," his twang falling off his tongue. You giggled at him. "My gorgeous wife," he kissed your collar.

"I love you, Cooper," your eyes stared into his. His grin painted his whole face, he leaned in for a kiss, "I lov-"

Your body jerked you awake.

You sat up quickly, looking around. Cooper was standing a few meters off hunched over something it looked like he was eating. You did not want to bother him knowing he was most likely feasting on something that would turn your stomach. Adjusting your clothes, putting your jacket back on as you stood up. You rolled your neck, stretching your shoulders and legs.

Cooper looked over his shoulder seeing you had finally woke up. He finished his mess then headed over to you. "'Bout time you got up," he strutted over to you. You gave him a halfway side-eye, how unamused you were written on your face.

"We've got a hell-of-a-lot more walking to do," he took a hit of his meds, "Hope you're ready, doll."

You nodded.

The two of you began walking. Sand and debris was the only thing you saw for hours. Mostly silence between the two of you made the travel all that more tiring.

You heard a strange sound in the distance. Cooper was humming some tune a few steps ahead of you.

"Do you hear that?" You questioned him.

He stopped in his tracks, stopping his whistling. It sounded like... footsteps charging in the sand.

Cooper looked around, seeing some blobs heading directly at you two. "Oh for fuck's sake," he grabbed his guns. You looked where he was, seeing the men charging you. All of them fully armed. You groaned, throwing your head back and grabbing your gun.

Cooper began firing at them, sweeping past one of their legs. Causing him to trip and the rest of the group to freak out. Muffled angry sounds came from them. Bullets started flying towards you and Cooper. Both of you pretty much unprotected, but confident in how bad of a shot those men were.

As they centered in on you, they began separating. You grabbed one of the grenades off your belt, pulling the pin and throwing it into the feet of the group approaching you. It sent them flying, blowing one of their legs off.

Cooper chuckled seeing their bodies go flying. He fired both guns, hitting man after man. They stumbled as he hit their legs and arms. They shot back smaller weapons until you saw one of them pullout a real gun. Not some tiny thing, something that would hurt.

Bang.

A bullet fired directly toward you.

Cold.

A cold pain shot down your arm. Like your body was in shock at the wound. Right through your shoulder. Your hand instinctively covered it, you pulled your hand away.

Blood.

Dark red, almost brown.

"Fuck," you exclaimed breathlessly. You stumbled a little to the ground, pain flushing your whole body. Cooper looked to you, his eyes widening seeing the red painting your shoulder. His jaw hung open, a glimmer of concern painted his expression seeing you hurt.

"Fuckers," Cooper began firing his guns rapidly at the men in front of him, each bullet piercing them multiple times. His demeanor changed, like he was angrier than ever before. You watched as all the men who had been chasing you flew to the ground. The desert sands painted red with their blood. A dozen corpses laid before you. Once every single one of them was good and dead, Cooper turned around to face you.

"Can you walk, sweetheart?" He kneeled in front of you, looking in your eyes to read whether or not you'd lie about how you were feeling.

You nodded, not wanting to look him in the eyes.

"There's a settlement a few paces up from here. Make it there and you can rest for the night," he looked over his shoulder almost double checking that they were all dead.

You could not deny the slight embarrassment that formed in the pit of your stomach. You were supposed to be a strong bounty hunter and here you are kneeling on the ground with a bullet shot through your shoulder. Worse, your number one competition was the one who had to save you.

Cooper walked over to one of the corpses, ripping the skin and taking a bite. You stared mindlessly. Moments like this reminded you how bad things really were here. Your road companion could not survive without having to eat someone else.

You knew if he ever had to, he would do that to you.

You shook that thought off.

He walked back over to you, bending down to help you up. He was being so gentle with you. You winced slightly causing him to slow down helping you. Your arm was limp at your side as you stood. You rolled your neck, squinting your eyes.

"Come on, sweetheart." He walked with you. The whole way keeping pace with you, shooting a glance at you every time you made a slightly off noise. You eventually came upon the settlement he had spoke of, only it was completely empty. Only decaying bodies of people remained.

"Guess we got the whole place to ourselves," Cooper's hands went on his hips. He led you into what looked like an old house. Shooting his gun into the ceiling to make sure no one remained. No response.

Cooper helped you into an abandoned room. Dark other than a slight glow coming in through a single window in the room. An older mattress and a nightstand were the only things in the room. Once you got sat, Cooper went looking through the house for a form of something to mend your wound. You could hear his heavy boots throughout the entire house.

"I need to bandage you up," he spoke across the room. You looked at him. Hesitantly, you took your jacket off laying it on the mattress behind you. You unbuttoned the shirt underneath, leaving you in an exposed white tank-top. Stained around the shoulder with your deep red blood. He joined you, standing at the edge of where you sat. He wetted a piece of cloth, dabbing your wound. You gritted your teeth.

"Clean through you," he mumbled.

You watched as he gently cleaned your wound the best he could. You found yourself admiring how he was treating you. He was brash and coarse most moments, but right now he felt soft. Like he was worried about you.

His eyes looked up yours before directing back to your shoulder. For the moment your eyes met, it felt like everything slowed down. Like he was truly taking care of you. Eyes checking to make sure he was not hurting you.

He wrapped a dry piece of the same cloth around your wound, gently lifting your arm to make sure it was on properly.

"Thank you, Cooper," you breathed out. His eyes shot up at your face. Jaw slightly hanging open like he wanted to say something he could not. Slightly hooded eyes stared into yours. He lifted his hand from your shoulder as if he was going to caress your face, before swiftly putting it back down, "Have to make sure you're able to fire tomorrow." He turned his head. A small smile creeped on your face as you looked at him.

Cooper swallowed and cleared his throat. He stood up suddenly, his back to you. "Get some rest," he mumbled through his hand.

"What are you going to do?" You asked as you scooted back onto the mattress. You laid back, stretching your body out.

"I-" he looked over his shoulder at you. He could swear his cock jumped in his pants. Your body on display, skin-tight shirt showing off your breasts, unbuttoned pants showing your pantyline, your hair disheveled, sweat decorating every inch of your exposed skin. He took a deep breath, composing himself. "I'm going to keep watch," he spoke monotonous.

"You could try and get a little rest yourself," you grumbled, "We have a pretty big day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Doesn't matter," he spoke stern, "Can't trust anyone, anywhere." You huffed at him. You rested your eyes, not quite ready to go to sleep. Your shoulder ached, pulsing under your skin. Silence filled the room around you. Your mind wondered to who Cooper was before the war. You knew he had been around longer than most people. Maybe he did not even remember who he was. You wondered if he had a family. If he had any hobbies. What his favorite drink was. You wondered what made him him.

Time passed. Your mind wandered imaging Cooper with hair. The image of him from your dream stuck with you. You bet he was charismatic. Somehow your body was still fighting sleep. Maybe it was the adrenaline from getting shot.

"No one's coming, Coop," you sighed, throwing your legs over the side of the bed.

"Why the hell are you getting up," he walked over to be standing in front of you. "I'm grown," you scoffed.

"Yes, I know that," he rolled his eyes, "I just want you to rest. I don't wanna hear you bitching tomorrow about how bad your shoulder hurts when you won't even lay down for a few hours."

Your head fell forward, eyes in your lap. Cooper stood in the same spot, waiting for you to lay back down.

Doe eyes stared up at him now. The slight light coming through the window illuminated half his face. You watched as his tongue wetted his dry lips. Hooded eyes stared down at you. Warmth washed over your body as you stared at him. "Don't give me those sad eyes," tilting his head. Neither of you were backing down. Both refusing to give into the other.

"What do I gotta do to get you to lay down?" Cooper blew his breath out. You thought of a hundred things you could say to him, ranging from snarky to sexy.

"Sit here and talk to me," you whispered. Cooper's expression softened. Something neither of you had done since reuniting: talked. You went straight into the mission back on the run. You had learned his name, but other than that there was nothing else but minor arguments and groans of disdain.

He clamped his teeth together, looking towards the window. He gestured at you to scoot down on the mattress, "This is stupid." Normally that would have angered you, but in this moment you could not help but smile at him. He was slightly slouched, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Why didn't you turn me in to those guys?" you questioned looking at his hands. You caught him off guard. He stammered slightly, "I-I... You're more important for me to keep you. Besides they would have just came back for me."

Important to him...

You nodded at his response. Thinking it over.

"What did you used to look like?" you smirked at him. If looks could kill, you would be dead. His head sped around to look at your face. He exhaled a slight chuckle. He licked his lips, smiling slightly like the memories made him happy. "Handsome," he grinned for a moment. "Oh?" you laughed out. "Handsomer than any boy you've seen in the Wastelands, that's for sure. 'Kind of handsome that you'd see in the movies," he sat up straight looking at you. You giggled at him. He framed his face with his gloved hands, "Can't you see this on the big screen?" He faked a toothy smile at you.

For a moment you both felt human. Like the world was good.

You had never seen him smile as much as he did right now. Maybe you were both getting comfortable again. Sometimes people moved past bad moments in their past. Maybe you and Cooper could...

"You don't get to ask me all the questions now," Cooper cocked his head at you. You gestured for him to go on and ask. You saw smugness dance across his face. "How was that night?" he grinned. You rolled your eyes, cheeks getting red from the memory. You shoved his shoulder, "Is that all you ever think about?" Cooper chuckled, "Okay, okay... But-" "Oh my God!"

You both laughed together for a moment before silence washed over the room. Somewhere in the laughing his hand had ended up on your thigh. Heat radiated when you realized.

You looked at him with slightly hooded eyes, the light making your eyes glow in the darkness. Your mouth ran dry, you swallowed heavy. Tension so thick in the room that you were losing your breath.

"Do you ever think that..." Cooper started before stopping himself. He blew his breath out, standing up off the bed. He walked back over to the window, hands on his hips. He tapped his foot slightly. He was angry at himself. He wanted to be soft for you. He wanted to fuck you again. He wanted a life with you that he could not have anymore. You stared at him from the bed.

Things got too comfortable. You scared him off. He can't be soft for you, not how you want.

You stood up, taking your pants off. Cooper looked over, watching you strip down to your underwear. "I'll lay back down," you mumbled a little disappointed, "Thank you for looking out, Cooper." You curled up under the old blanket wishing you were wrapped in his arms. You took a deep breath. Forcing your eyes to squint shut.

Silence for only a moment.

~~~

END//Part 3

[Thank you for reading!  If you are interested in being tagging in any of my writings don’t be afraid to message me!  All tag lists are open!  I have a master taglist and one for each character!]

Tags:

@mortuus-poet | @giggle-shade | @ghcstvibess | @pixelatedprofilepic | @maezydaezy |

[lazybutsmexy]

Task Force 141 + affectionate reader Pt.2

Pt. 1 Pt. 3

Warnings: ANGST, character death, blood/injuries, cursing

A/N: This is for my good girl @gogh-with-the-flow because she asked very nicely 🫶♥️

Under the cut for length!

It's hard to breathe, each inhale burns your insides. Blood is flowing out freely from the wound, and you can feel it corroding your insides as well. 

Your hand trembles over the wound, unable to hold a steady pressure. You can't even inform your status on the radio as your tongue grows numb and the taste of iron invades all your senses, and a brief thought flashes in your mind - you were always meant to die alone, with no one noticing. With no one caring. 

You can hear Price calling for you, begging you to inform your status and location. You push yourself to raise your free hand, spitting out the blood mixed with saliva, a last effort to communicate. They could still come and save you, perhaps one of them was just outside, with a med kit. Maybe you could be stabilized and evacuated. 

Wishful thinking, but hope is the last thing one should ever lose, right?

Your finger hovers over the button of your radio when you raise your sight. A shadow approaches you, the barrel of an m5 staring down at you. 

All hope is lost. 

You press the button.

"...love you, goodbye."

They all immediately knew the moments they heard you on the radio, they had lost you forever 

Your last words weighed heavily on them

They were the same words you'd shout at them whenever they left

And now it was you who left them 

Riding the helicopter back to base became a torture, knowing that you were in one of the few body bags they managed to retrieve 

No one could say a word, really 

Price limited himself to talking to the pilots

He had lost so many subordinates before, and he had been hesitant to accept your affection because of this

But you had been relentless, and wormed your way into their hearts without caring about the consequences

The consequences for them, at least

The moment he arrived at his office and saw your note taped on that one framed photo of the team, he realized he wouldn't be able to get any work done 

He poured himself a drink in your honor, pretending the salty taste was the cheap bourbon's fault and not his tears streaming down his face. 

Gaz stared at a spot in the floor of the helicopter, losing himself in his thoughts

Every now and then, his eyes would shift to the bag, before quickly shifting them away and blink back the tears

He was quieter than usual that night, barely limiting himself to answer if anyone talked to him first

When he arrived to his barrack, he took the last note you had given him, still tucked away into one of his holsters

He was going to put in in the drawer with the others, but didn't find it in himself to shut it

Instead, he took all the notes you had given him and put them under his pillow

Maybe that way he would dream about your loving words to him once again

Soap glared down at his own hands the entire trip

Out of everyone else, he had been the one who was the closest to your location

He had been the one to shoot down your killer, before he had even known he was the one

Had he known, he would have made it last longer

Probably would've made him eat a grenade and transform him into a fucking flesh puzzle

Make it hard for anyone to gather his fucking pieces

(He did plant explosives under his corpse before they left, whoever moved him would blow up in pieces too)

As soon as they arrived at base, he headed straight to the training rooms

He unloaded all his frustration on the punching bag until the skin of his knuckles broke and blood smeared the equipment and dripped on the floor

After almost two hours, he finally stopped 

The floor was splattered with a mixture of blood, sweat, and angry tears

He cleaned it in silence, and bandaged his hands before heading to his barrack

As he laid down in bed, he shifted on one side and the other, unsure of whether he wanted to see your lovely notes on the wall, or not. 

Ghost couldn't get his eyes away from Gaz and Soap during the trip.

He could hear your voice echo in his head as you said your last good-byes 

What would you say at a moment like this?

He was never good at offering comfort, but as their superior, he supposed he should say something

Then it dawned on him

He was also your superior

When was the last time he openly showed any gratitude towards you?

You had never been subtle when showing affection, you simply adapted yourself to whoever was your target

You never once made him feel uncomfortable

Instead, you made him feel loved, worthy of having someone waiting for him

Although he had tried to push you away many times in the beginning, he ended up finding himself eager to come back alive

Because you were waiting for him - for all of them

Had it always been your plan? To make them feel the need to come back?

As he sat down at his desk that night, all your notes displayed on the hardwood table, he couldn't help but think 

Who would he try his best to come back for, now that you were gone?

[corpsebasil]

Triple Threat 💣⚔️🔫

Your brothers and you are Stu’s children and, when you run into Ethan’s Ghostface, you consider teaming up.

Your brothers were acting unhinged.

You felt embarrassed, watching as Ethan examined your shared apartment, staring around at things that had belonged to your father. Stu had been his favorite Ghostface and, when you’d shoved a knife against his throat in the alleyway, demanding why he was parading around in your dad’s memorabilia, he’d confessed that Richie was his brother.

The three of you had done your research on the Woodsboro murders. You had no intention of killing Sam—no, that wouldn’t be what your dad would’ve wanted. He would’ve wanted you to manipulate her into joining the three of you, but what does one more Ghostface hurt?

“And then,” Ansel was saying, waving his shotgun around like a maniac. “we blew that bitch’s head off.” He laughed and you cringed, crossing your legs on the couch. Ansel was the eldest of you and the most like your dad; he was sadistic, uncaring, and enjoyed killing simply for the sake of it. “What about you, kid? Ever blown someone up?”

“You didn’t blow them up.” Matteo argued, sliding a wet stone against the long blade in his hand. Twin swords were his preferred weapons, thin and lethal, that he wielded with expert skill. “The only person here with explosives is Y/N.”

Ethan eyed you warily.

You noticed the boy constantly looking over at you; you’d disarmed him easily in the alley, pulling him into your complex, and he seemed incredibly out of his depth around the three of you. Nepo babies, he’d teased, which Ansel had found infinitely amusing. Matteo only shrugged, bored, and began sharpening his blades.

“Explosives?” Ethan asked, moving closer to you. You nodded and patted the couch beside you, allowing him to sit. He seemed jumpy, like he was worried the three of you were going to kill him after all. Richie or not. “What kind of—”

“Grenades, car bombs—oh, remember that canister thing you did? Under the house?” Ansel said, setting his shotgun down and opening up the large safe against the living-room wall.

“Whole building gone.” You mimed an explosive with your hands, raising an eyebrow at the boy beside you’s startled look. “Boom.”

“She makes them herself.” Ansel grinned, looking like the Cheshire Cat, and threw something at Ethan.

The boy let out a yelp of surprise and you lunged over his lap to catch it, glaring at your eldest brother. Even Matteo was mumbling curses, glaring as your sibling stuck his tongue out on a laugh.

“These are expensive.” You snapped, placing the grenade beside you. Ethan was shaking, pressed fully against the back of the couch, his eyes wide. “Don’t fuck with my bombs. I don’t touch your guns, you don’t touch mine—”

“You’re no fun, Y/N.” Ansel rolled his eyes, practically skipping over to the couch. He reached over to pinch Ethan’s cheek, enjoying the cringe that crossed the younger boy’s face. “Aw, he looks fresh out of high-school. How old are you sweetheart? Sixteen?”

“Twenty.” Ethan scoffed, eyebrows furrowed as Ansel gripped his chin and turned his face back and forth to examine it. “What are you—”

“Definitely one of those remake losers.” Ansel sighed, patting Ethan’s cheek hard enough to sting. “Dad would be so proud.”

“Leave the kid alone.” You groaned, pushing your brother off him before you reached out to snatch Ansel’s phone from his pocket.

“Hey, that’s mine—”

“I’m ordering pizza, you dick.” You told him, glaring as he moved away, muttering ‘okay mom’ under his breath. “Want anything in particular?” You asked Ethan, turning your head, and realized you were still practically in his lap. You didn’t move though, not when you felt his hand hesitantly, almost as if he wasn’t sure he was doing it, touch your lower back.

“Whatever you want’s fine.” He said, expression still wary. Then he flushed when you leaned in, brushing away an imaginary eyelash from his cheek.

“You’ve got eyes like Bambi, you know that?” The smile that crossed your mouth was feline when he blushed, looking away, then back. “Matteo. Call my supplier. We should get this kid geared up.”

“Sam—” Matteo started, looking up, as he pointed a blade at Ethan. His expression was calm. Your middle brother was the most stoic of you all, moving through life with a steadiness that was the foil to you and Ansel’s subdued Chaos. Perhaps if Billy had been his dad it would’ve made a bit more sense. “—is ours. Don’t even think about touching her.”

“But she killed—”

“Do you think I give a shit about your pathetic brother?” Matteo laughed, standing and dragging the tip of his sword across the floor. “She’s our—” he paused, searching for the right words. “she’s kind of like a sister. You can have the other ones, but not Billy’s kid.”

“That alright with you, sweetheart?” You asked, running your fingers along Ethan’s jawline.

There was a pause, a moment of tension, where Ethan seemed to debate the serious merits of trusting you all, when he nodded.

“Fine. Fine, alright.”

“Good boy.” You cooed, moving yourself fully onto his lap, and looked to Matteo. “I’m serious. Call the supplier.”

He nodded wordlessly and left the room, likely off to see if Ansel was writing runes in blood all over the walls again. You opened the Dominos app and began scrolling, settling back into Ethan’s chest. He was tense—more than tense, but he slowly began to relax as the vanilla scent of your perfume invaded his senses.

“They seem…” he swallowed, and you felt the movement against your own body. “Nice.”

You snorted.

“Hawaiian or Meat Lovers?”

“Hawaiian, duh. But how did you guys—where were you—”

“Stu knocked up our mom a couple times when they were teenagers. She was totally in love, even though he had a girlfriend, which it turned out he had a boyfriend because Billy was—”

“But where were you?”

You paused your typing, turning your face to glance at him.

“The system.” You admitted, frowning at your screen. “Ansel got us out when he turned eighteen. I’d been fostered a couple of times but it never stuck.” You smirked, meeting his eyes again. “He made us nicknames. He thinks we’re some kind of special superheroes. Out to serve justice for anyone who’s wronged Stu or Billy.”

You finished ordering and turned in his lap, slipping your legs around him. You’d just met the dude, for fucks sake, but he was hot. And besides—you’d always been rather forward. Flirtation was in your nature. You felt a thrill when he immediately grabbed your hips, his intrigue and fascination overpowering any shyness.

“Which are?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m The Bomb.” You laughed, and beamed when a grin split across his face. “I know, Cliché. He’s Joker, and Matteo is Red Ninja Turtle.”

“Oddly specific for the last one.”

“He finds pride in his creativity.”

Just then Ansel burst back into the living-room, the Ghostface mask on his head, wielding a chainsaw. It wasn’t on, thank God, but Ethan still gasped and flinched backwards, almost smacking his head against the couch.

“Look what I found!” Ansel laughed, shaking the weapon around. “It’s like Christmas!”

“I told you to stay organized.” Matteo groaned, following after him, and yanked the mask off his brother’s head. “God, take an Ambien or something. You’re freaking me out.”

The doorbell rang, then, and all four of you turned to look at it.

“Do you think it’s the pizza?” Ansel whispered, speaking into a voice modulator and, despite himself, a hesitant smile began pulling on Ethan’s mouth. Shit, your family was way more insane than his.

“We’re all gonna end up in an asylum.” Matteo muttered, pointing a finger at Ansel. “Chainsaw. Closet. Now.”

As he opened the door, smiling politely and talking in that sweet way he always did to strangers, you jostled Ethan a bit underneath you.

“Come on,” you said, moving off of him and grabbing his hand. “come see my collection.”

-

An hour later, after the four of you had split three pizzas and were watching one of the Saw movies, you yawned and moved into your bedroom. Ethan followed—like a puppy, to your amusement—and watched as you opened up your window and leaned against the frame.

“They are..” he trailed off, eyebrows pinched together. He’d allowed Ansel to tease and terrorize him, then Matteo to interrogate him in a low, hushed voice about Ethan’s family and their plans. He’d spared no detail, well aware of the sword that rested on the floor next to your middle sibling. “I don’t know. I’m scared, but I like them.”

“Welcome to the club.” You smirked, peering up at him through your lashes. He leaned against the frame beside you, toned arms brushing your own. The night breeze tousled his hair as he stared out at the city, a contemplative look on his face. “What’s going on up here?” You asked, running your fingers through those dark curls of his, and he shrugged.

“I don’t know, I just…I can’t believe you guys are alive.” He glanced over, then away. “Makes me feel like an amateur.”

“Everyone has to start somewhere, babe.” You told him, bumping your shoulder against his own. “Once Sam joins us, we can go after Sydney. And that bitch, Gale.”

“You think she would?”

“I’ve seen her from afar.” You admitted. “She’s got that look on her face. You know?”

“Yeah.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “I think I do.”

You stared at each other for another moment, his expression softening as he took in your face. Before he could do something stupid like have a crush on you, you turned, snatching something off your shelf.

“Here then.” You told him, dropping one of your grenades into his hand. He flinched, and you giggled. “Welcome to team Stu.”

this is the most unhinged family ever but I truly think they’d solo

Part TWO

[thewalkingthread]

i found you - r.g. (moodboard)

pairing: rick grimes x reader

summary: on your search for rick, you're faced with an unknown group. little did you know, they one of the soldiers was more familiar than you thought.

warnings: NOT REVISED, violence, cursing, walking dead gore

author's note: this is loosely based off of events from the ones who live. I've only been thinking about Rick since the show aired but am going to post a Daryl one shot soon! This will definitely have a part 2!

-

You pressed your back against the wall of the warehouse. You glanced over at Bailey who had a grenade loaded and ready to blow. He glanced at you, waiting for you to give him the okay.

You glanced back at the group of soldiers that was slowly spreading around the open area.

They'd been on your tail for some time after dropping a bomb on the town you were tucking in for the night with a group. You and Bailey were the only ones who survived.

You were certain is was the same group. Same black uniforms, same helmets, same heaping amount of artillery on them. You were beyond doubtful that you would get out of this situation, but you had to.

You had to keep going. You had to find Rick. You had to go home.

You nodded your head at him and he threw the grenade in the middle of the warehouse before you both ran for cover. Seconds later explosion rocked the ground, the groans and shouts of the soldiers echoing through the now decrepit warehouse.

Their bodies were thrown across the floor.

"I'm going to finish them off," Your eyes darken as you step towards the dying men. You grab the red handled machete, gripping it tight as you walked.

Bailey wasn't too far behind you, keeping his weapon drawn as you approached the bodies.

You kicked over the first person, grabbing the bottom of the helmet and throwing it to the side. The man was groggy, fading in and out of consciousness but you grabbed his vest and pulled him up towards you, making sure he got a good look at your face before you slowly slid your machete through his forehead.

You dropped his body onto the ground, moving on to the next, repeating the same process. These men killed the people that were helping you. They deserved nothing short of a painful death.

There was one man left, trying his best to crawl away. You wanted to laugh at his desperation.

You kicked him in the stomach, his body curling up at the contact.

"You,"

Kick.

"Killed,"

Kick.

"Everyone!"

You shouted in frustration, grabbing the man by his uniform and pulling him up to his feet.

"Fight. Back." You shout, shoving him by his chest.

He kept his head down, probably still trying to recover from the grenade. The man stumbled back, barely able to hold his body up on his own.

You knock him to the ground, ready to end it. In one swift movement he swipes his leg against yours, causing you to land flat on the ground. You groan at the sudden impact, your machete sliding just out of your reach.

He grabs you by your helmet, pulling it towards him in a jerky motion. He's about to punch you but Bailey swings his staff at the guys back, dropping him to the ground.

You nod at Bailey, thanking him. You pulled your helmet off, catching your breathe as you reach down for your machete.

You pull the guys helmet off and swing the machete down in one fluid motion. His brings his arm up to your wrist, stopping you.

Your eyes meet and your heart seems to stop. You drop the machete to the ground, stumbling a few steps back.

Those blue eyes you've been dreaming about were now staring back at you.

"R-Ri-" You gasped out.

His face mirrored yours in complete shock. He pushes himself off the ground, closing the space between you.

"Rick!" You cried out, collapsing into his arms once he was within reach. You couldn't control the sobs that left your mouth once you were completely in his embrace.

"Y/N," Rick inhaled deeply, his lips pressing to your neck. "You found me." He mumbled.

"I found you," You cried, grabbing at his clothing, as if he would disappear if you let go even just a little bit.

Rick pulls away first, but just enough to cup your cheek and press his lips to yours. It's been damn near 7 years since your lips last touched and you could tell from how desperate this kiss was.

There was an awkward cough from beside you.

You both pull away, an awkward chuckle leaving you as you glance at Bailey.

"So is this the famous Rick Grimes?" He raises an eyebrow. You nod your head, biting your bottom lip.

"Rick, this is Bailey." You introduce the two. The give each other nods, before Bailey glances around the dead bodies.

"I," Rick starts. "I know what it looks like... But I'm not one of them. I just-" He looks ashamed.

"I know. I know, Rick." You nod your head, wrapping your arms around him again.

"Is everyone okay? Alexandria? J-Judith..."

"They're okay. Everyone is okay. Judith- she's perfect." You nod your head presses a kiss to his face. A breathe of relief leaves his mouth and his nods, relaxing his shoulders at the reassurance.

"We have to get home. Everyone- They'll all be so excited to see you." You gushed.

"It's not that simple, Y/N..." Rick frowns. "The people, these people. They're not that simple." He shakes his head.

"I can't- I can't go with you." He mutters.

"What?! Rick are you crazy?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

"I'll get away. I will." He tries to reassure you. "You have to go." His voice cracks. "Both of you, you have to go back home. More soldiers will come looking for us and you can't be here when they get here. You have to go home." He squeezes your hand.

"I just got back to you, I am not leaving your side." You say through gritted teeth.

"We don't have a choice, darling." He pleads with you. "Please, I know what I'm doing. I will find a way out. I will get back home to you, I swear." The deep groan of a helicopter catches your attention.

"You have to go. Now. Get home and tell everyone to prepare to fight, or run. Those are the only options." He mutters hurriedly. "I'm sorry this was so short. But I will find you again, my darling."

"Y/N, they're getting closer. We have to go." Bailey urges.

Tears well in your eyes as he tugs you away from Rick. You press one more kiss to his lips, savoring every moment, knowing this could very well be the last.

"I love you, my darling." He says against your lips. "So, so much."

[sopiao]

hii! hopefully you’re not swamped with requests or studies 😓

but can i request a hyper fem reader (uses she/her) that also wears a mask just as much as ghost? always wearing pink, gets her nails super long and glittery, pink gun, pink knives with stickers. like she is only ever seen in a mask. only way she can express herself is through make up and the 141 always notices little details or changes. even after killing and enemy and there’s blood across their face and mask but still mange to look so cute and bubbly.

could you use the callsign you use? i feel like shark would totally fit this!

have a good day!! ^^

-🧸

OMG???? LIKE?? YESS???????

I FUCKING LOVE RHIS IDEA SM!!

(dw bbg- studies r getting better :))

141 with a hyperfem masked female reader

When your first recruited and joined the task force everyone just stops and stares when you walk into the room.

They’re confused when your face is covered, only eyes being visible, makes them even more intrigued with you.

They’d 100% unconsciously move to the side to make a path for you when you walk by.

I feel Soap would be very interested and excited whenever you get new nails, always super sparkly, pink, pastel, and covered in charms and pearls.

Soap is always the first one to see and the one to pick out your next colors. His favorite combo being pink and green.

Shark would call everyone baby girl when they’re all grown men with balls (hopefully y’all saw that tweet).

“Is you LGB? cuz your gun pink” -Gaz

Constantly leaves glitter everywhere you walk.

Definitely gave everyone ‘1 whore 1” pins with a hello kitty with a pink AK behind her for Christmas. Which they all wore on their vest.

You would give out stickers as a form of praise and reward like teachers would to kindergartners.

Price would keep all the stickers you give or just leave behind in your path.

—

“Soap!” You walk into the rec room, not even bothering to look for him, just calling out his name (not the obnoxious loud kind of yell). He immediately would drop whatever he’s doing, a conversation, a game, a task. Knowing by your tone and excitement in your voice that you already have a new set.

“Oohh! Even better than the last” He says, smiling when you lay your hands out for him, he smiles even more when he sees that you picked charms that he recommended.

“I liked last weeks better, had more glitter” Ghost sudden appearance made you both jump. Almost bumping into him since he was leaning over your shoulder behind you.

Sometimes during briefing, you’d rest your head on one hand and the other would be around Soap’s shoulders, ever so often scratching his head and ruffling his hair like a dog. Some recruits would mistake you two as a couple, they’d comment how they can tell you’re the more dominant one.

—

Ghost would always be next to you, sometimes by coincidence, but mostly by preference. Whenever you two walk into the room together you always call him your twin or your mini-me.

“Can’t tell the difference, huh?” You asks the latest recruits, elbow resting against Ghost, pointing between the two of you. Even though there’s a very obvious height difference, your dramatic lashes and pink eyeshadow boomed through your balaclava, you had pink guns and knives in your holster, pink and yellow glow sticks on your belt, and Ghost was a 6’4 built like a Greek God british man.

But the rookies are too intimidated by both of you that they’re too scared to even disagree. Just nodding vigorously as you skip away with Ghost following behind.

—

“Take cover!” You yell, tossing a grenade across the barrier, signaling you’re teammates about the blow. Within seconds the ground shakes and you can hear bodies being thrown due to the impact. Unexpectedly to them a cloud of pink and glitter exploded along with the grenade.

“What the fuck?” Gaz looks up after a light layer of glitter dusts on top of him. The rest of them looking up and seeing the pink in the sky.

“Rest in pink” You bow your head to pay your respect.

—

“Shark..” Price speaks up beside you, the rumbling of the truck going on rocky terrain constantly rocks your body against his. You immediately snap to look at him, almost making jump from your crazed but happy eyes.

“Why don’t you wipe all that off, sweetheart?” He asks, holding out his handkerchief for you, motioning to the blood that’s splattered across your mask and whatever it could touch on your uncovered part of your face.

“No”

“Why not?” Gaz asks, from your other side.

“I don’t wanna smudge my makeup :(“

—

“Shark, did you do something different with your makeup?” Gaz asks once you walk into the meeting room to meet the rest of them. Yes, you did do something, there are little white and magenta accents in your eye lashes. Gives your eyes and lashes a highlight of color.

“Why yes I did. Thank you for noticing, sweetie” You pinch his cheek and sit on the empty seat next to him.

“You changed your highlighter too” Ghost speaks up from next to you, he can tell with your eye shadow and slight nose contour that you switched to a more finer and brighter highlighter.

“Did you change how you do your eyeliner? Looks bolder” Soap asks, inspecting your eyes closer.

“I think you look nice overall, hun” Price chuckles at how they inspect and comment on every little change of your appearance. Your just proud that you’ve taught your boys well, being able to know the names of every makeup technique and step.

—

“You got a little bit of Shark on you” Price interrupts Ghost mid sentence to point out the small patch of glitter on his shoulder.

A couple days later Ghost stops him for the same thing.

“Cap, you got a lil Shark on you” He taps him on the back and shows a small strawberry sticker that was stuck on his vest.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 13

Summary: You are kidnapped in the middle of the night while the two of you are camped out a little too close to fiend territory. Cooper finds you and makes them pay the price for taking you in the first place.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst and Violence. Dark themes. Cooper is not a happy camper. Forced drug use and sexual assault but no rape. Blood and death.

Part 2 -> HERE

Masterlist

It's been a week since the fiend leader Motor Runner and his crew of misfits had captured you. It'd been in the middle of the night, Cooper asleep and you on second watch. Your mind was already drowsy, and you hadn't been paying the best attention to your surroundings when you'd wondered off to take a pee that night. Four of them had jumped you, stuffing a dirty sock in your mouth and spraying some type of chem in your face that made you pass out within seconds.

Since then, they've kept you hopped up on a concoction of drugs. It was mostly a mix of jet and med-x, drugs that made you feel calm and foggy brained. Motor Runner had learned quickly that he couldn't touch you unless you'd been double dosed and restrained, wrists lashed behind you as you kneeled by his throne made of human skeletons They'd taken your clothes early on, leaving you in nothing but the thin underclothes to protect your modesty.

Cooper had woken that morning and found you gone, but your things still left behind. Panic and anger had set in immediately, and the ghoul gathered everything up before he started to follow the tracks that led into the destroyed city that surrounded the Strip. It was slow going. The ruins were rife with all kinds of surprises, and he'd had to fall back more than once after getting overwhelmed by a gang of fiends.

However, he'd finally arrived at Vault 3, and nothing was going to stop Cooper from getting you back.

You swayed side to side, high as a kite, and so drugged up that you weren't sure which was was up and which was down. The world spun around you, making you feel sick as bile curdled in your stomach. Motor Runner was saying something, but you couldn't be bothered to pay much attention. Your hearing felt muffled, but you could feel the vibrations of some type of explosion going off further up the Vault.

"Hear that, bitch? Sounds like someone actually tried to come save you. It's soo fuckin' bad that they'll never make it down here."

A gritty hand grabbed your jaw, and cool metal was pressed to your temple, digging in hard enough that it cut into your flesh. Blood wells up and drips down your chin to mix with the other disgusting fluids and gunk that stains your front. Your jaw aches, but you know better than to fight against what the fiend leader wants from you.

Cooper tosses another grenade down the hall, a terrible grin on his lips as the fiends scream in pain, shrapnel shredding through their flesh and sending blood splattering the walls. His side arm flashes in the dim red lighting of the vault, and Cooper relished in the carnage that he leaves behind him. The fiends deserved worse than death, and he would happily be the one to deliver their silence.

They put up more and more of a fight the deeper he went inside the Vault. The ghoul ducks into an abandoned room and quickly reloads, sliding rounds into the chamber with steady hands before he ducks back out into the hallway to blow away three unlucky men that'd been charging down the hallway with pool sticks.

One of them gasps for air, but he's still alive, so Cooper stops for half a second to haul the man up, slamming him against the wall. The bounty hunter's face is stained with red, and the fiend howls in agony when Coop digs his his finger into the bullet wound on the raiders' side.

"Where the fuck is she?" He spits and shakes the man when all he can do is cry, "Answer me you son of a bitch!"

"Down! Motor Runner has the bitch!" the man eventually screams and Cooper puts him down like he would a rapid dog. On he went, dropping fiends and tossing explosives when he could. The walls were painted red by his actions, and the entire vault looked like a murder scene by the time he'd made it to the lowest level.

Tears fell from your eyes as Motor Runner used your mouth, his heavy cock sliding in and out as he takes pleasure in using you. He grunts and moans like an animal, and you have never felt so shamed and disgraced before in your life. You gag around his length, and a sick combination of precum and drool drips from the side of you mouth to mingle with the blood already there.

This is the scene that Cooper arrives to, his features pulled down into an awful snarl as he points his hand cannon at Motor Runner. He takes you in, your bare chest, and the thin panties you wear that hardly cover anything. The fear and broken, defeated look that you wear across your beautiful face.

"Ha! Nice job gettin' down here, Rotter!" The fiend leader hisses and snaps his hips, vulger curves spewing from his lips, "Just in time to watch me cum down your cunt's throat."

Cooper hears you whine and watches you clench your eyes shut. He can hardly see through the film of red that covers his vision, so raged filled that his hand shakes from how tightly he holds his side arm. Motor Runner still has a pistol pressed against your temple, smart enough to not take any chances.

"She ain't yours, Fucker," Cooper snarls right back and takes a couple of steps forward, only to stop when the raider jerked you around to kneel in front of him, on display like come kind of fucked up prize. The fiend scoffs at him.

"Doesn't look like it's your cock in your mouth right now, does it?"

Even drugged and out of it, you can still register what's going on, and hateful shame fills you up to your core. With a vault full of fiends, fighting back had felt hopeless, but seeing Cooper made rage build up and bubble over. Motor Runner had made a mistake when he pulled his attention away from you, and you took your change the second You felt the barrel against your temple go slack.

Cooper watched as Motor Runner's face went white, a silent scream falling past his lips as you bite down as hard as you can. Your teeth pierce his dick, and blood wells up in your mouth as the fiend rips away from you. You fall back, jaw aching at you hit the ground with a thud. You grunt when the back of your head hits the concrete floor, and you see stars.

The ghoul dashes forward, grabbing you the arm to haul you to his side while the fiend wallows on the floor, his hands grabbing at his dick that hangs limp between his legs. Cooper fishes out his knife and cuts the rope around your hands, and you move before he can make sure that you're okay.

You fling yourself on top of the fiend, pinning him down with your knees on his shoulders as you wrap your hands around his throat. You use every ounce of strength you have left, squeezing and watching the life fade out of the man's eyes before you roll off his cooling body, laying on your back as you cry and stare up at the ceiling.

Cooper carefully picks his way over to you, crouching by your side and gently gathering you up and in his arms. You don't fight him and only cry harder when you pick up his familiar scent when you shove your face in the crook of his neck. You shiver and shake, relief filling your body as your ghoul holds you tightly.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get to you, babygirl," Cooper rumbles, but you shake your head. You didn't care, the ghoul had come for you, and that's all that mattered. He gathers your frame up and stands with a soft grunt.

"Let's get outta here."

[rowiewritesstuff]

Soulmate prompt for TFP Megs - where only soulmates can see each other's coloured footprints left by the other on the ground?

Maybe the human gets in trouble/is a nuisance to the Decepticons as they're with the Autobots and only Megs can find them?

PS: Your writing is awesome!

TFP Soulmate Megatron X Reader

You were an absolute menace. You also happened to be Optimus’ charge. A huge reason Optimus was tired all of the time was you. Bulkhead even mentioned that you were worse than Miko. Ratchet sometimes called you ‘Unicron Jr.’ much to Optimus’ dismay. 

You happened to excel in creating weapons- specifically bombs. Wheeljack was a good friend of yours, and you often exchanged tips. 

Oftentimes, you’d use your weapons and bombs to fight Decepticons when you encountered them. You quickly became enemy number one for the Decepticons, the echo of your violent tendencies towards the Decepticons reaching the leader’s ears. 

Megatron was miffed at the news. How couldn’t they kill or capture a single human?! It was pathetic. 

Soundwave played back a clip Laserbeak had captured of one of your battles. It was you against five Vehicons. Several times they had almost managed to grab you, but you always pulled out another weapon out of seemingly nowhere. 

Megatron was impressed- something he couldn’t say about most of your race. You held your own at your size, and your weapons looked homemade. Some moves you used reminded him fondly of his long past gladiator matches. 

“Soundwave. Inform me of the next time you see them on the battlefield. Immediately.”

It wasn’t until a month later they found you fighting again. You were up against a good amount of Vehicons when one managed to hit your side with a shot. You yelled out in pain, alerting your autobot friends to your injury. They quickly began taking on the Vehicons that fought you. You whimpered in pain as you began to stumble away into a nearby cave. 

Megatron landed at the battlefield, where Autobots were looking for you while fighting a small army of cons’. Megatron began looking as well. He almost missed it, but he noticed small, glowing red footprints leading into a cave. 

Megatron knew exactly what those steps meant, and was shocked. Soulmates were rare. Perhaps a handful of Cybertronians ever got one- and he thought he was one of the majority. Was there a new Cybertronian that he hadn’t met before on Earth? 

Megatron followed the footsteps into the cave, and looked up when he heard a click. There you sat, grenade in hand. The old bot merely raised an eyebrow.

“Ah ah, don’t move a muscle, con. If you do, I’ll blow us both up- and trust me, this grenade is a lot worse than it looks.”

“So you’re the famous human, then.” He grins at you. While he’s grinning, his mind is running a mile a minute. 

“Famous? You flatter me!” You flutter your eyelashes at him. Megatron can’t help the chuckle that leaves him. You suddenly grow serious. “Now- who are you?” 

Megatron can’t help a slight look of irritation on his face. “You don’t know who I am?” 

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking bud.” You held your side in pain as it suddenly throbbed. Blood trailed down your side.

Megatron noticed it almost immediately. “You’re hurt. Come, I will see to it you’re taken care of.” He leaned down and offered a hand out to you. 

You laughed loudly at him. “Do you think I’m a fool?” 

Megatron was amused. You were smart as well as a worthy opponent. “You’re no fool- but you are injured. So if you truly intend to, human, pull the pin out.” He gestured to your grenade. 

Shock coated his face as you do. You laugh at his face. “You caught my bluff. It’s just a backup shell I have.” You dropped it onto the floor and held your side. “Guess you… you win this one, Batman.” You passed out onto the floor a moment later after the bad joke. 

He stood there for a moment, thinking about everything. You were definitely his sparkmate- and you were definitely a problem to the Autobot cause. He realized that he had only one choice. 

“Soundwave, open a groundbridge to my coordinates.” Megatron gently picked you up from the ground, careful not to harm you further. 

“Megatron, release them!” Optimus’ voice shouted at him from the mouth of the cave. 

Megatron looked at him from the corner of his eye and made his way through the groundbridge. Immediately he went to Knockout’s medbay. “Knockout.” 

Breakdown and Knockout stood at attention. “Yes, Lord Megatron?”

“Fix them. If you fail to, or if you harm them further, there will be consequences. Understood?” 

Knockout and Breakdown nodded slowly. They didn’t understand why Megatron wanted a human healed, but they certainly would do what the violent con’ ordered. They immediately recognized you as the human who had kicked their afts before, and made sure to restrain you on the table. 

When you woke from your rest, Megatron was there. You went to grab your sidearm, but you found it wasn’t there. 

“Ah, you’re awake, sparkmate.” Megatron stood from his sitting position. 

“Uh- I’m sorry, what?” 

Megatron explained what a sparkmate was. You didn’t believe it at first, but a simple glance at his feet left you no voice but to trust his words.

You were surprisingly treated well on the Nemesis, despite being just a captive. You were technically allowed to leave at any time, as you were told. However you choose to instead get to know Megatron and the Decepticons. 

As you learned more about them and their cause, you felt guilt. Some Autobots are just as bad- a lot of them were, actually. You began to become friends with a lot of them- especially Megatron. 

As time went on, you managed to curb a lot of his anger issues. His troops were better emotionally.  They fought better, and less of them died to Autobots. 

You made them promise to never kill the Autobots, to which a lot of them agreed. It was surprising to the Autobots when the Vehicons avoided fatal blows. They only used enough force to stop the Autobots in their tracks. They knew that it had to be you stopping them from using fatal force.

It wasn’t too long before Optimus and Megatron met. Megatron admitted defeat in the war, promising to stop fighting. 

“What changed, old friend?” Optimus didn’t really have to ask- it was obvious the little human sitting on his shoulder was the cause for the end of the war. 

“A lot.” Megatron then left, you in tow.

[renatogpadilla]

What's In A Name.

Lux had to stop herself from lighting up.

"Jinx... Jinx..." She tried the name out in her mouth. It felt good! She looked like a 'Jinx'! Short, sweet (well, maybe 'sweet' wasn't the right word) and scrappy! "Jinx!"

She put her entire accent into that last one.

Jinx wondered how it was possible to roll the letter 'J'. She also wondered if she was as red as she felt hearing her say her name so much with such... Joy? Yeah, that must have been it... She wasn't used to that.

"Okay, glad you like it." She was REALLY trying to hide that smile, she was! "And... I appreciate that you don't blame me for... Who I was then."

"Never."

Alright... Where was she... Ah, right. Vi.

"My sister eventually found me..." She continued, tapping her temple with a brass middle finger. Had Lux noticed that before? "And I wasn't really in the best place up here. So imagine my face when she rolls up with Piltie girlfriend of all things."

Lux's hands shot up to her mouth. "No!"

"Yeah, I did NOT take that well..." She wasn't as much ashamed of how much she'd been mad at Vi as she was embarrassed of how little control she'd had over it. "Apparently, they'd been trying to find some dangerous psychopath with ties to Silco that had been making the criminal underworld get a little too bold for comfort... Imagine her face when it turned out to be her baby sister." Now that Jinx had time to really think about it, from Vi's point of view, their entire dynamic had been exceedingly fucked up.

"Anyways, things escalated pretty quickly after that. She'd grown to love her Piltie 'Cupcake' so much I thought she was replacing me... I got ready to take care of that issue myself when I found myself on the bridge between the two cities. And on the other side? Who else but Ekko? All grown up and ready to rock. my. shit."

Lux gasped. Audibly. Jinx could tell she was holding in a squeal. Childhood friends to enemies to lovers? Class-defying sapphic romance? Criminal underworld political drama?! This story had it all! Lux had never been so invested in anything in her life!

"Lemme tell you, that fight was a wake-up call. Boy Saviour had HANDS! I'd never seen anyone dodge like that either... This was before I got my powers so he was a real threat! But when he had me pinned to the ground, hand on my neck... put your eyebrows down, Lux they're gonna hit my roof, it wasn't like that! But... something stopped him. He hesitated. For a moment, he wasn't Ekko the Firelight and I wasn't Jinx the criminal... I think... He saw Powder in my eyes then. Whatever was left of her and he couldn't bring himself to kill me." She would never forget the look on his face. "I had... Other priorities. And a tricked-out grenade. I pulled the pin and waited..."

Lux softened again, and it was at this point that Jinx realized that she had tried to blow herself up a lot along with her enemies back then. Like, every other fight she'd tried to take herself out, even when she had Isha... Damn, she had NOT been okay in the slightest.

"Well, I know he made it out," said Lux, she had to make the lights dim a bit. When had she made them that bright? "So... How did you...?"

"Same way anyone in Zaun made it out of anything back then. Ekko pushed us out of the way. Saved us both."

Lux was starting to idolize this boy she'd never met. I mean, kid makes it growing up in Zaun, starts a freedom fighter gang and then pulls Jinx?! AFTER that big fight on the bridge?! 'Boy Saviour' sounded right! She HAD to meet this absolute hero someday! She hoped, whenever her witch left for home (ouch) maybe she could bring her friends to visit someday... Or, perhaps very selfishly, that she could tag along.

"Anyways, next thing I know I'm strapped to a chair. Silco had taken me to this crackpot scientist he knew. Brilliant man, but Gods he was messed up! Like, he had issues and that's coming from me! Just straight up creepy... Anyhow, he pumped me full of drugs until I got better... And I got superpowers out of it, so that was a plus!"

"I'd been meaning to ask about that... We've been running tests on me for weeks but what exactly is it you can do?"

Ooh, a chance to flex? Don't mind me! "I call it 'Chemhead Strength'! On command!"

"Isn't that a derogatory term...?"

Jinx walked over to Pow-Pow on the ground and lifted it with a single hand. "You tell me, Flashlight!" Her eyes glowed purple when she used her powers... Lux thought it was absolutely sick. And hey! There's something we have in common!

"Strength was just one part of the deal!" She said, putting the gatling gun down gently next to Fishbones. A flash of purple later she was sitting next to Lux again, like she'd never moved at all. Lux hadn't even seen her cross the room! "Speed's only good for short bursts, though. Little hops and dashes here and there. I can't exactly run from here to Piltover-Zaun in the blink of an eye, but I can cross a room no problem." She said it as non-chalantly as she could. She was suddenly feeling herself quite a bit.

"Last but not least came endurance. I speak from experience when I say you could put me through a brick wall and I'd walk it off!" She was actually pretty proud of that one. It had come in handy more than she'd like to admit...

"That's so...! Wait. From experience?"

"Yeah, you can thank my sister for that. I'm getting there." She was so excited getting to show off that she'd momentarily forgotten where her story took her next... She sunk herself into the couch. "You were right, you know? The person I had been up until getting strapped to that chair was the result of circumstance. A lost little girl who hadn't had the power or the nerve to right her wrongs. To work on herself. Who had been too clouded by her own grief and rage to see it... And I thank you for letting me understand that." Though a part of her still didn't fully believe it.

"You are so very welcome, friend." Lux was feeling herself now too.

"Having said that..." She steeled herself for this one. "Who I was after that, was all me. That I can't deny. That I won't deny. I did some messed up things, and I won't pretend I didn't. So... If you still want to hear it... know that that was MY choice. Alright?"

Lux nodded her head again. This felt heavy. She took a deep breath as discreetly as she could.

"Remember." Jinx said, straightening on the couch. "You wanted this."

"And I still do. If you feel like it."

"I think I just might, Flashlight."

She told her everything.

Kidnapping Caitlyn in the shower...

"You saw your sister's girlfriend naked before she did?" Lux mostly asked to distract herself from how terrifying the thought of getting kidnapped naked by a Jinx high off her mind would be. Nope! Just shoot me, thank you very much!

"Yeah, I never gave her enough shit for that... I'll say this, though: I may hate the bitch, but she's fine as fuck for Piltie swine. Gotta give my sis props on bagging that, but you didn't get that from me!"

The tea party...

"I didn't know what was going on... I just heard them, all of them at once... Some insane combo of schizophrenia and all the chems in my system telling me to shoot... Anything. I fired on Vi and Caitlyn... I didn't hit Vi and Caitlyn." Her voice was so small saying this, Lux wanted to hug her again, but too many in one night would probably lose its effect... She'd try it anyway later. For now, let her get this out, just like she'd needed to vent about Sylas. Jinx was fighting her demons and she was proud to stand by her side while she did.

"Silco bled out in my arms... riddled with holes, straight from his d-daughter's hands... And he still didn't blame me..." The words rang in her head again, whether a twisted reflection of Fiddlesticks' vision or exactly what had happened, she couldn't tell. You're perfect just the way you are...

She needed a moment after that. She couldn't tell if Lux had grabbed her hand or if she had grabbed hers. It didn't matter, she supposed.

She may not have had tears left tonight, but her eyes still hurt.

"Still here, Jinx." Lux said, squeezing the hand a bit. To kill your own father... Twice! And one that loved you regardless of who or what you were, at that... Lux couldn't imagine the pain. The grief. This girl was made of iron.

Jinx simply nodded her head in acknowledgment.

"What I did next took the cake, though." She couldn't help but glance at Fishbones. "The absolute finest crash-out Zaun ever spawned..."

The explosion of the Council...

Lux was starting to see why Jinx thought she might be... apprehensive about her past.

Here's a girl from nothing, who was seen as a menace (and at her worst moments, was a menace), who the downtrodden minority saw as a symbol of hope and rebellion, as a light in the dark! And she had now effectively killed a large number of the people in charge of the pseudo-regime they were all rebelling against.

Jinx had, Lux realized to her nausea, unintentionally become everything Sylas wanted to be by complete accident.

Maybe her new friend was afraid that Lux would shun her because of that. To tell the whole truth to herself, there was a knot in her stomach thinking of the parallels between this reclusive not-a-witch and the rebel very-much-a-mage... But Lux, maybe due to foolishness or hope or clarity or experience or some weird mixture of all of the above, realized that there was one key difference between the two: While both Jinx and Sylas had grown up in environments that hated who and what they were, Jinx had had people (criminals and villains, sure, but people nonetheless) that had let her be herself despite the horror and the glares. Silco had been the father she'd needed, and now, without him, she'd gone off the rails and done something the whole of Zaun would live to regret...

Lux realized that Sylas was Jinx, made alone. If all she'd known had been that hate, that grief, she wouldn't be the kooky friend living in the woods she'd come to care for. She'd be a monster, dark and terrifying, that even her light couldn't save from her spite at herself and the world.

And while Jinx had reacted to the pain, Sylas had chosen to inflict it... But then again, Jinx hadn't been kept in isolation for decades just for being herself and existing... Ugh, the whole comparison was so complicated!

A very small part of Lux began to pity Sylas. Oh, who he could have been, if he wasn't alone... Best not to dwell on that... For her own sake.

Jinx then told her of the following weeks... And how she'd met a lovely little street urchin named Isha. The little mute girl had come into her life and just... Decided to stay. No judgement, no hatred... Just love. She was everything she'd needed at the time. Well, her and her other friend (Frenemy? Co-worker? Aquaintence? Second surrogate mother to her child?) Sevika, who hadn't allowed her to be alone, whether intentionally or not. The two apparently hadn't seen eye to eye a lot over the years, but now that Silco was gone, they got to grieve together, and while they still came to blows on occasion, they became each other's rock and bonded over their shared love of little Isha...

Lux found the thought of her friend raising a scrappy child the cutest thing she could imagine. Just her and her little rascal playing games, building little inventions (possibly of mass destruction, but she wouldn't think about that), getting into trouble and being adorable together was enough for Lux to feel her heart grow a size... But she knew how it would end. She knew, after a while it would come to tragedy. So she enjoyed Jinx's smile and joy as she recounted how they used to get beetles to fight and pretended it was this huge spectacle for all to see... But it was just for them. Two orphans that found each other at the bottom of the barrel and made each other's words a better place.

It was the purest love that Jinx had ever known.

Her laughter filled the hut and for a moment her smile was brighter than Lux could ever hope to glow.

Then she told her of how things evolved... How she'd fought Vi and Caitlyn inside the city's guts. How she'd been put through that concrete wall. How Caitlyn had blown off her finger. How Isha had saved her... How she'd become the symbol of revolution for the entirety of Zaun, and how she'd gone into hiding for the next seven months, hearing how people with blue hair had started taking a stand against the Noxians flooding their streets... Oh, yeah! The Noxians! That whole thing also happened!

It really told Lux something about how incredibly messed up the situation was that the actual Empire of Noxus was involved in this tale and she hadn't heard about it until this point. What do you MEAN the greatest military force in the world taking over your city was a side-plot?!

"Yeah, this big unga bitch named Ambessa brought them along. I never really knew what it was she wanted, but it became a problem."

Lux did a double-take. "...Ambessa Medarda? 'THE WOLF', AMBESSA MEDARDA?! THAT AMBESSA?!?!"

"That's the bitch!" Jinx said it like she had no stake in that at all. "Why? Were you a fan of something?"

Now it was Lux that braced herself.

"The Noxians are Demacia's greatest foes! Once every two months almost on the dot they come to our borders trying to conquer us and make us part of that barbaric coalition they call an empire, and you mean to tell me they just showed up one day, with AMBESSA MEDARDA herself and you just... what, lived?! Told her 'No thanks, madame! We do not want to be colonized today! Please leave!' and it just... worked?!"

"Well, to be fair, I only saw the bitch like once. She passed by me when I was breaking into prison..."

"Yeah, and you LIVED! How the fu- wait, did you say you broke into prison...?"

Ah, yes... Isha. "Okay, so... As I became the symbol of a revolution, the most wanted woman in two cities and now one middle finger lighter, it turned out little Isha had been rilling people up. I didn't want to be a symbol, or lead the revolution or anything... I didn't even KNOW there was a revolution for most of it! But Isha... She wanted to do something with it. She wanted to actually inspire people to rise up! So she dressed up as me when I wasn't looking and started going to rallies and meetups, instigating and causing riots in the name of standing up to anyone that would threaten the people of Zaun. Noxians included..."

She continued to tell Lux about how little Isha had been taken during a rally and she and Sevika had gone in to save her... And what had happened inside.

To say Lux was surprised at the Vander fight and reveal was an understatement. Yeah, Jinx had been there. Finding out her father was alive, and more than that, that he'd been turned into a monster was a moment she'd never forget... And naturally, now that her father was back in the picture, it was time to get her sister, who apparently had quit her job back when Caitlyn had shot her middle finger off.

"Lemme tell you, that breakup got her BAD." She told Lux. "She'd been doing underground fights to drown out her pain for seven months and dyed her hair black... So when I found her, she was passed out in her apartment after a night of fighting. Needless to say, she didn't exactly react well to me popping up in her room."

The explanation of the next few hours was... Emotional, to say the least. Lux heard, little by little, as Jinx recounted spending time with her sister, bickering, fighting... bantering. How they found a note their father had left, and how it might have changed things if it had ever been found... How they found Vander again, changed and transfigured into something almost unrecognizable, and how he realized who they were... How for a brief, beautiful time, despite everything, the sisters were and had a family again.

What happened next was hard to hear...

It wasn't the part about the mystery cult leader mage that turned chemheads into robots offering to help their father (though that did catch Lux's attention. Apparently Jinx called him a 'Metal Fortune Cookie'), or the part where Caitlyn came back and turned on Ambessa within about a minute of seeing Violet again (Jinx's sister must have been really something else if she had her ex that whipped after seven months absent). No...

It was the part where the Noxians showed up and somebody killed the cult leader mage, corrupting his connection with all the people he'd helped and causing them to forget themselves... including the now-mindless monster that was Vi and Jinx's father...

How one moment they were a family, holding each other past the pain of a life of strife none of them deserved, and the next, her father was gone, lashing out at whatever moved, his daughters included, wild and in pain, with Noxians on all sides...

It had been little Isha that had known what to do.

The same thing her mama had done so many years ago. That same haunting mistake that had kick-started everything...

And Lux held her through the whole thing.

She had no more tears. She couldn't cry anymore tonight.

For this, she wished she had tears.

Lux killed most of the lights. She left one, small and unimposing, changing from blue to pink, blue to pink, blue to pink... A perfect little candle for her friend's perfect little girl. Jinx thought it was wonderful.

Gods know how long they held each other, but the sun hadn't come up yet, so it was still somewhere deep in the early hours.

"After that, all hell broke loose." She said. She had some mixed feelings about this next part. "The Noxians were everywhere, Cookie - sorry, Viktor- got resuscitated by some insane mix of chems and magic and lost himself as well somewhere in the process. And as if that wasn't enough, he brought the corpse of my dad back to life as a bloodthirsty monster to use in his uprising. Oh, yeah. He kinda gave up on the whole 'help thy neighbor' thing and decided to turn everyone into mindless robots, so we had THAT 'Glorious Evolution' to deal with... Well, the others did. I... I had other plans." Home stretch, Jinx, you're almost there.

"I tried my best to make peace with my sister and then..."

Lux just knew she wasn't going to like what happened next...

"Well, then I remembered that the only way to break a cycle of suffering was to step out of it. To... To remove yourself from it." She put her arm around Lux a little tighter. Lux didn't mind at all. "So I went home. To The Last Drop. Had a whole meltdown, cut my braids off, set the place on fire... And while it burnt I went down to my workshop and made one last little gadget. One just for me. A little monkey bomb. Felt fitting, you know? To... to end it... to end me with it. So I stepped to the nearest ledge and took a deep breath..."

"Oh, Jinx..." Lux didn't have the words. But a part of her understood. There were days (not many, and not often, but there were days) though she would never admit it, when things got so bad... when the pressure of hiding who and what she was became so unbearably crushing that she had eyed her bottle of Petricide Potion a little too longingly...

But the weight of this moment, she couldn't have imagined if she'd tried. And for her friend, she tried.

"It was Ekko that saved my life."

Absolute fucking hero, Lux thought. Whenever she met him (and now she WOULD meet him!) she owed him a drink.

"He came in, at the nick of time, sweating like he'd run a marathon and talked me down from blowing us both up... He... He just sat with me. Just... Let me get it out. No judgement, no fight, no snarky remark, just... time. Time enough to tell me... Well, it sounded ridiculous, but I couldn't help but listen, you know? He said that in the time since I lost my finger he'd been stuck on this other version of the world. Apparently, he and Jayce and a Yordle professor from Piltover just happened to be messing with this huge magical reactor at the same time and ended up stranded in another reality."

"And the Noxians were the side-plot?"

"Yeah, I still don't fully get it myself. But... he told me about this other life. This other world where nothing bad happened after the heist... Other than Vi not making it out, but that's not the point. He told me of this other Jinx... One that never stopped being Powder. For a second I thought he was gonna rub it in my face. 'Look what you could have been!' or 'She was so much better than you!' but... He didn't. Hell, he saw the good in her and told me that all that mattered is that that was somewhere in me too. He didn't try to change me. Just... show me I could do good with who I was. That I wasn't broken. That I still had time to figure out a way to make myself work... To make us work... if I wanted it. And I wanted it, Lux. I really REALLY did. And that he would be there every step of the way..."

No romance novel Lux had ever read (and there had been quite a few) could ever come close to that. Gods above, he gave up the perfect life for her!

"You'll... umm..." Jinx cleared her throat. Now she knew she was all red. "You'll have to forgive me for not going into detail about how the next few hours went."

"Oh, worry not, mon chère." Said Lux, not even trying to hide her playful grin. "I've always been told I have an incredibly active imagination and I'm more than happy to put it to good use!"

Jinx smacked her in the arm and chuckled. What a rollercoaster tonight had been!

"Anyway, after a few hours of making new gear, changing our looks and making up-"

"And out!"

"-WE managed to convince Zaun to join the fight against the Noxians on the side of Piltover. Brought the whole thing together for the first time since... I don't even know how long! Also made this huge flying machine to get us there. I think it's the best entrance I've ever pulled, if I'm being honest! Colors and bullets flying everywhere... Noxians and robot-people getting knocked every which way... Lux, I think it's the closest I've come to making actual magic happen. Then Ekko took off to help out in the fight..." Her tone changed for what must have been the 10th time tonight. "I heard he made it out, but..."

"Was he okay...?"

"I don't know... I never saw him again."

Lux was genuinely speechless.

"I joined up with Vi and got jumped by what was left of dad... We fought. As hard as we could. We... tried to get him back to us. To talk, but he wouldn't listen. Like there was nothing left to listen... Except there must have been, in the end..."

This was the last of it... Just get this out and you're free.

"He grabbed me, and I let myself fall into the bowels of the city with him. I pulled out the monkey bomb and got ready to blow us both to hell, but... at the last second, he... softened. One last act as my dad, I guess. His claws relaxed around me and I got the smallest opening possible to dash away. I left the bomb to go off with him and jumped into an old ventilation duct on the way down as the colors exploded around us... And after that... I was gone."

Jinx felt herself relax, for the first time in... probably months. Someone knew now. The whole thing, beginning to end, and she was still here.

"Remember when I said the only way to break a cycle is to remove yourself from it? Well, that's what I did. My sister would never move on if I stayed in her life, and Caitlyn only left me alone at the time because she loved my sister more than she hated me, which side-note: I blew up her MOM after the tea party, kinda skimmed over that before, so Vi must've had her on a leash! But she'd have to go after me again, if I showed my face... And Ekko? He'd find a way to kill himself for me at the first sign of danger... Better to leave him sad but alive. I lo-... I care for him too much to curse him with me. To give him that chance to play hero one too many times. Did keep his hoodie, though. That's for me... So I stowed away on a blimp (always wanted to ride one of those things, by the way) and flew wherever people wouldn't look for me. Where the name 'Jinx' wasn't on everyone's mouth... Where I could disappear into the dark, and curse the ones I loved no more..." And for a while, she thought, it had worked.

"Just your luck a Mage comes knocking on your door."

"Yes. Luck." Jinx admitted. She allowed herself to smile. "The best luck. And not to get sappy but... I'm really glad you did, Lux."

"Well why would we get sappy now?" The glowy Demacian girl quipped, and Jinx knew she'd made a friend for life.

"Anyway, that's me!" She said, standing from the couch she had practically fused with over the last... Hour? Or two? Meh, whatever. "You wanna take the bed? It's not much of a bed, but you're not sleeping on the couch after sitting through all of THAT."

Lux hadn't even thought about how she was going to spend the night here until this exact moment.

"Oh, no! I couldn't! I wouldn't want to impose..."

"Girl, I told you I was a wanted terrorist and you hugged me so hard you provided mood lighting. You're taking the bed."

"I-" She sputtered, but Jinx practically lifted her off the couch and started dragging her to her ramshackle little room. She really was deceptively strong.

As Jinx unceremoniously carried her through the door at the back of the hut, Lux got her first look at her friend's room. A big, thatch bed and a couple of hand carved drawers (wow, she'd had a LOT of free time on her hands!), a big window to the outside with the floppiest curtains Lux had ever seen, a little shelf over at the side of the wall with a bunch of little trinkets of her own making, a little mini-workbench for Zapper, Lux presumed, and a standing mirror in a corner of the room in front of the bed.

Jinx dropped her on the bed like an unruly kitten.

"Jinx, I can't. Noble or not, I'm a soldier! I could sleep on the floor! It's no problem, really!" She was just making excuses now.

"You are NOT sleeping on the floor!" Jinx went, taking off Lux's boots and gently (at least she thought it was gentle... she was moving a lot!) tucked her in. Which implied holding her down on the bed and just dropping a big blanket on her. "You are my guest and my friend and I'll be damned if I let you treat yourself like that in my house!"

"But it's your bed! Where are you gonna sleep?!"

"Uh, couch? I was already sinking into it before! Never let it be said I'm not a good host!"

"That doesn't feel right." Lux protested. Even if she was already snug as a bug in a rug.

"Well, we're not gonna cuddle. Buy me dinner first!" Jinx jested. She thought she was being funny. She clearly didn't know who she was dealing with.

So she almost jumped out of her skin when Lux answered with "Deal!"

...

"Um... Excuse me?"

"Dinner! Or lunch, or whatever! Because you know what, Jinx?" Lux sat up and spoke with authority, trying to hide how incredibly red she was at the moment and failing miserably. She'd just answered out of reflex! And she didn't think of Jinx like that... though she had to admit she enjoyed being carried juuuuust a little bit too much. "We went through something horrible tonight. And it was so bad you told me your whole life story! And on top of that, we have both been through a lot! Each of us has dealt with Noxians and a revolution! Hell, I'm still dealing with mine! So we're taking tomorrow off! As soon as my shift is over at midday, I'm going to make an excuse and I'm coming to get you, and I'm going to show you what Demacia is all about! Outside of the mageism, the swords and shields, the politics... You let me into your home, Firework, so now you gotta let me show you mine!"

Jinx slowly realized how dangerous letting Lux call her 'Firework' had really been. She was a bit overwhelmed at all the aggressive kindness. "Look, that sounds wonderful and all, but I haven't gotten to the cities for a reason! What if someone recognizes me?! And besides, I only have two outfits..."

"Then I'll sneak you a dress or something!"

"Oh, don't you DARE, Flashlight! Do I look like the kinda gal that wears a dress?!"

Lux had to admit she thought she'd look cute in one. Like a big ragdoll!

"You won't know if you don't try it!" She said. And she was really getting excited now. "If you don't like it, I won't push, but please try it? For me?"

Big round eyes... Waaaay too big, but they did the trick!

Jinx sighed in defeat. "Fine... Tomorrow. But nothing fancy, okay? I was never exactly high class or nothing." She smiled a bit. When was the last time she'd let herself have nice things?

"Yes! You're going to love it!" Lux let herself light up a little. "I'll pick out something simple for you to wear, nothing too fancy! Don't worry, it's going to be lovely." Okay, maybe she was a bit too excited about this...

"Okay, whatever. See you tomorrow..." Jinx stretched and went to the door. "Goodnight, Flashlight."

"Goodnight, Jinx!" There she went, rolling Js again.

When Jinx closed the door, she let herself lean on it a bit and breathe a sigh of relief. Like a huge weight had lifted off her shoulders at last... She smiled wide. And for a moment, nothing was wrong in the world. She said it to herself, mostly. Barely a whisper before going to sleep.

"Isha would have loved you."

And she thought Lux didn't hear it, but now it was the noble who had to fight back the tears...

[bullet-prooflove]

Bad Timing: Tim Gutterson x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

It’s always a case of bad timing between you and Tim, it’s been that way since Afghanistan. A couple of stolen nights here and there before one of you departs for greener pastures. For him it was Iraq, for you it was an honourable discharge before you took up a position in the FBI.

When he becomes a US Marshal he figures the two of you will find your way back to each other again at some point, he just doesn’t expect it to be in some backwater shithole near Harlan in the midst of a raid. He doesn’t expect it to come with a punch in the face as you escape through an open window. He chases you for almost two miles before he catches up and that’s only because you let him.

Distance running has always been your thing, just like intelligence work.

“Fuck Lucky.” He mutters, trying to catch his breath as you slow to a halt outside the abandoned Anderson house. “Did you really need to run me out this far?”

The reason they call you Lucky is because back in Afghanistan no matter what fucked up shit you  were caught up in you always made it out. It didn’t matter what the odds were, the one thing he could always bet on was on you.

It had started because of those five days you spent hiding out in the hills, evading the Taliban with nothing but your wits and a combat knife.

Lucky is what they called you when you came stumbling through those gates looking like you’d been dragged through hell.

Fierce and smart as fuck is what he thought when they’d headed back to the caves and found the mess you’d left there, along with the intelligence cache you’d secreted away. He’d fallen a little bit in love with you right there and then.

“You looked like you could use the exercise.” You say, putting your hands on your hips with that devil may care smile on your lips.

Christ you look beautiful, even in the light from the shitty streetlamp overhead. He remembers the last time he’d had his hands on you. It was during that law enforcement conference up in Louisiana a couple of months ago. You’ve always been a little wild, a little crazy and that translates into the bedroom. He’s asked you to come stay with him in Lexington, give this thing between the two of you a real shot.

“After this assignment.” You had promised him as you straddled his hips. “Let me get these next couple of months over and done with and then we can talk about playing house together.”

You’d meant it, he could tell from the look in your eyes before you rode him into oblivion.

“That eye is gonna turn a pretty colour in the morning.” You say interrupting his thoughts as you reach out to touch the place where you socked him. There’s a tenderness in your touch, one that he spends his nights craving. This is the other side to you, the part he misses more than anything. The part that loves him, the one that will always love him.

“I’d take any hit you can give me as long as it means you’re safe.” He murmurs, his lips brushing over the tattoo on your wrist, the one of a four leaf clover. “When are you gonna be done with this undercover bullshit and come home to me?”

“When redneck militias stop buying up rocket launchers to blow up churches.” You tell him and he sighs because he knows what that means.

It’s not easy dismantling an arms ring, especially one with ties to the military. There jurisdictional issues in play, different agencies get involved which means more risk on your part. It also means a bigger investigation because operations like this filter into different states depending on what the hook up is. Guns from Texas, grenades from Florida, body armour from Kansas, the list goes on.

The two of you are looking at a year maybe, instead of the months you’d both thought.

“I guess we still have a case of really bad timing don’t we darlin?” He says, his heart aching at the prospect of spending another year without you.

“Yea Tim.” You say softly. “We sure do.”

Love Tim? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒊𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓- hyunjin x reader x felix au fanfic

CHAPTER 5

6 - Call me friend but keep me closer

In and out of sleep, you've been sleepwalking in your own head for a few days now. Echoes of Hyunjin's wishes for you to move on and Felix' tormented confession about feeling used still swirling around in your brain.

You never meant to hurt anyone. Never meant to chain the actual love of your life to a gilded, phantom afterlife prison, never meant to trap another person into your own vicious cycles. The problem is you, you remind yourself, your own harsh voice pounding inside your head.

What if you had never met Hyunjin in high school? What if he got that scholarship that would have allowed him to go overseas for a few years? Perhaps he would have relinquished his citizenship, got a new one that would have allowed him to skip enlistment in the military, he would have never have died like that.

And you would have never met Felix. Never got him into your bed, never would have made him feel like a plaything to keep your needy self at bay.

Perhaps this is all you're good at: hurting. Both yourself and others. Perhaps all you attract is good people who are meant to be destroyed so you can destroy yourself in turn.

There is just no way you can be a good friend, a good daughter, a good girlfriend. People are hand grenades and you're a ticking one. Better to go off in an empty lonely space where nobody gets hurt but you.

"Miss? I'm so sorry ..miss? hello?". A middle aged lady with a greying perm and thick rimmed glasses shakes her hand in your face trying to get your attention and you're brusquely forced to snap out of your brooding, "oh-oh yah sorry, how can i help you?", you force a fake polite smile and proceed to help the lady find god knows what type of face serum in the store.

By the time you finally finish closing the store, your reddened knuckles sore from wiping clean the counter and all the exposition racks of products, the sky outside has gone a deep shade of blue that blends into black.

There are no stars in the night but a chilly wind is blowing, making you regret not wearing a warmer layer on top of your work clothes as you step out and lock the main door behind you. You stare at the empty parking lot and sigh, on the verge of spacing out like you did on the job as another empty soulless day has ended.

Your stomach grumbles and twists with hunger to the point where it makes you uncomfortable to listen to it even if you're alone in your car so you decide to stop at a 7/11 to quickly make yourself some ramen that you quietly eat while standing outside of your car, just people watching, your eyes steadily adjusting to the bright neon signs and the headlights of cars passing by.

You're cold, freezing even. But you don't care. The eerie, desolated sadness in your heart weighs you down: you're meant to be alone. Forever. Everyone will leave. Eventually.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?".

You startle, your head snaps in the direction of the familiar voice, your chopstick dropping into the empty cardboard bucket of ramen.

Felix walks over to you, holding his own plastic bag with likely his dinner steaming inside. "I just got off work and came here for some quick dinner", you reply quietly, your eyes carefully avoiding his somewhat concerned gaze, "yeah ... same here", he replies awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, a shiver running through his shoulders.

A beat passes before he dares speak again, his voice soft, tentative: "I... haven't seen you in a few days. How've you been?", you shrug and rest your back against the cold hard surface of the hood of your car, not really knowing what to say.

Your dead boyfriend still hounting your heart and your head and your sleep begging you to survive him isn't exactly on the plate for you to tell Felix right now, so you settle for the cringiness of your shared silence.

Felix blinks a few times and frowns deeply before speaking again: "I understand if you don't want to talk to me or even just see me. I should've called you and apologised sooner y/n, I regret lashing out at you like I did a few days ago. You didn't deserve that." Always the bigger person, he tries to take a step towards you, offering a sincere apology, you can tell.

You shrug once again, shaking your head dismissively, "I probably deserved that. It's okay", you mumble non commitedly, back to staring at your feet so you don't have to face the sincere sorrow in Felix's magnetic gaze, "it's not okay, you're not -you don't deserve that. I'd take everything back if I could, even though I did mean it when I said I want to be there for you and I-can we-can we just -", he stutters, pausing to shiver and observe the slight tremble in your limbs too.

Felix reaches out for your wrist, which he gently holds, "you're freezing", he says softly, his roughned thumb skimming the blueish vein running up the delicate skin peeking from your sleeve, disregarding his own discomfort, "can we go talk in my car? please?".

Talk. Talk. Talk. It seems like everyone wants to talk to you while you'd just rather curl up at the bottom of your bed and sleep your remaining days away.

Shifting in your seat uncomfortably, you rub the tiredness off your eyes, trying to keep them open, staring straight ahead of you while Felix turns in his driver seat to face you. He observes you for a little while, not speaking, clearly rushing through his thoughts as the chilly air of the night tries to permeate the cabin of his car. He turns on the warm air set and suddenly the smell of his cologne and his now cold dinner seeps through the air vents, which should make you feel more comfortable, make it so you're sitting in a familiar space.

But it does the opposite for you don't want to be here and you don't want to face him and you don't know how to talk. Closed off, the seals around your heart tight and impenetrable.

"I miss Hyunjin. I miss him a lot. It felt like my left arm got amputated when he died, and the stub never fully healed. The phantom pain is still there, the reflex is still there too. Sometimes I hear a song that he used to love and my hear starts to ache, like an invisible hand is squeezing at it."

Felix knows he's now got your full attention when your eyes snap to him, a flicker of recognition in them for you know that exact feeling and experience it multiple times a day over the most mundane of things. Everything reminds you of him.

If you're not going to talk you're at least going to listen, you think to yourself, crystalized words stuck in your throat for the moment. You give him a silent hint, a mere blink of your eyes in his direction, but Felix understands nonetheless, the miniature most minuscule sign of understanding coming from you is enough for him to go on.

"It's going to sound ridiculous but I think he was my brother in spirit. Like the familiarity, the homely-ness I used to find in him I never found with anyone else, even when we used to spend months apart a time cause I was still split between here and Australia, it truly fetly like we were always together, always connected in a way".

A pause in his speech, as if he's physically in pain just uttering out his own words, Felix narrows his eyes and purses his lips before continuing: "I loved the way his mind worked, the outlook he had in life, I remember almost being jealous of the way he manged to see life through his eyes and his heart, it felt like he saw colors and sounds in everything, he had such a burning passion for exploring and seeing things and appreciating art in it's every form".

The trips to Busan, to sunny Jeju. The trips to Tokyo. Wild eyes taking in every color of the cherry blossoms and citrus fruits hanging on the branches in the orchards you used to visit together. The vibrancy of the Harajuku district captured in his expensive camera, the million different recreation of the street art he saw there.

The impulsive jewellery purchases and the red guitar hanging on his wall. Pottery projects half abandoned on his nightstand, the scattered poetry pages he stuck to his walls.

It all comes back to you in splash of color before your closed eyes again. It's hard to breathe again.

"I've spent these past few years trying to reconcile all these memories that I have if him, the immense hole he left in my heart with the fact that I sometimes get so overwhelmed by sadness it feels like I can only cope with his loss by trying to fill the void he left with... You".

Another brief pause, this time you struggle to let out a silent wheeze.

"Like my brain fully shuts down when I'm with you. And then I go back home and guilt engulfs me, swallows me whole. Isn't it weird? Like I'm doing this to myself, I actively choose to spend the night at your place and it feels fucking amazing for a sec. And it's kind of like... like.. ",- " like you're okay for while? Like you don't HAVE to think about him?".

You didn't even mean to interject but Felix's confession felt so real, so close to your own way of explaining things to yourself and psyching yourself into fucking him for another night that you just couldn't stop yourself from talking. Felix nods silently, mouth slightly agape, that terrible sadness behind his eyes so apparent even in the moonlight.

"It came out all wrong cause I was very upset last time but.... I do mean it when I said I don't think this healthy for us. I think part of me, the more lucid, conscious part of me also thinks that if I can be your friend than guilt won't feel so overbearing. But I'm also aware that.. that I can just snap out of it, if that makes sense. I feel like... I feel like I need you, in both ways".

"Felix I don't know how to be your friend. I don't do friends".

Cold. Blunt as a scissor cut. You now stare at him dead in the eyes, trying to convey just how convinced you are you're not supposed to get closer to him. Or anyone. For the matter.

No matter how much you felt like his words could've have been your own, no matter how much resemblance his feelings about the two of you acting out your inability to cope with pain have to your own, no matter how much his sadness hit incredibly close to home.

"I don't know how to to that either. But I want to try, y/n. I think we've reached a point where it's just - we're just going in circles. A temporary fix for a much deeper rooted problem. How long can we keep doing this? Just fucking and fighting and then starting all over again? Will we ever be able to form any sort of deeper connection with anyone else at any point if we're so codependent on this thing and each other? ". Felix matches your exact bluntness, though there is an underlying gentleness in the way he's trying to get his point across.

You tut and chuckle bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief,"why can't you see that there is nothing else left for me, Felix? I'm not pouring out myself and my pain to anyone else, I don't have anything else to offer but pain. I don't want to date anyone else, I don't care for friends. All I want is to shut my brain and if I can't do that with you, it's fine. I'm not forcing your to stay and I won't call you up ever again. You are free to go, Lix. Go fix yourself".

Hyunjin's whole spiel about you needing Felix to move on and him needing you as well, Hyunjin himself sacrificing his own love for you because he doesn't want you to throw your life aways spins and spins and spins in circle in your brain with a mighty force.

Coward. Ungrateful. Stubborn. You're breaking three hearts in just one snap of your  fingers.

Go on then. Go.

A hand already on the handle of the door, you try to climb out of the car but Felix stops you, his fingers circling your wrist, a grip not strong enough to hurt you, a grip not even strong enough to actually stop you, he, in fact, lets go of you the second you hesitate on your own will.

"Stay. Y/n, stay, please. I see more than just pain in you. I wish you could let me show it to you too, I wish you could stay, not for me, but for yourself. I wish you could give yourself a chance".

Your heart slamming in your chest, you hold on onto the two big warm orbs staring at you, pleading you to stay. His breath hitches in his throat, he smiles weakly, no he doesn't even smile. It's just the corner of his lips pointing slightly upwards while the look on his face is defeated but kind.

Sighing deeply, you swallow down the urge to run away once again, and with much effort you close the door and sit back down in your seat, gulping down air as though not enough oxygen is entering your lungs.

It's quiet. Both of you enveloped in a tense silence. Aware of each other's breathing and galloping hearts.

"Thank you", Felix says softly, the murmur coming out in his deep voice just loud enough for you to catch it, and you nod tenteitively. Heavy. You feel so heavy. The unspoken weight of both of your admission to the sorrow you feel so large it occupies the entire space of the cubicle.

"My nana used to say we humans are a bit like mismatched jars. We try to stuff so many things inside the little container we are ourselves, forgetting that everything takes space and we're the ones supposed to change in size and not the things we burden ourselves with".

Averting your eyes from the deep blue night outside of the window, you turn back to the blond young man still staring ahead of him, apparently lost in thought, "what if grief occupies all of my internal space? What if pain is so big and it is all there is room for?", you inquire, your eyes focusing on the few twinkling stars appearing in the sky.

"Pain won't shrivel. Like grandma said, we are the ones supposed to grow around things. If you grow into a bigger jar than pain won't be the only thing in there, it won't take up all that space", "and how do I do that? How do I grow into a bigger jar?".

Only letting your words longer in the air for a minute, Felix turns to you, eyes serious but hopeful: "you put more things that make you happy inside the jar. You open yourself up to people and things that bring joy in your life, and little by little you'll grow, and you'll be able to fit even more things in there, and pain won't go away, it won't squeeze itself tiny in the midst if it all but it won't be the only you feel in there".

[blueorchid-95]

a phoenix among thieves

Both heralded EOD member Agent Phoenix and nationally known superthief Carmen Sandiego have found themselves in a tight spot. Luckily, neither of them are alone.

The story is under the cut! I hope you enjoy :)

Agent Phoenix’s current predicament is… deeply embarrassing.

He supposes that if your palms are already slick with blood, your grip on your weapon has to slip eventually. It’s happened to his handler, it’s happened to Juniper, it’s happened to Zor, even. Everybody in their field mucks up sometimes.

Regardless, irritation still festers in his chest. Just three soldiers! Heavily armed and well trained soldiers, sure, but only three! He’s fought off more with nothing but a single grenade and a set of stage controls! Look, he’s never exactly been one for pride, but this situation still stings.

They have him securely restrained to a cold metal chair, hands cuffed on the armrests. The lighting is poor, but there’s a startling amount of green visible, which… doesn’t make sense. Zoraxis’ company colors were red and gold, and Phoenix has gone on enough infiltration missions to know that the opposition doesn’t skimp on the branding. The deviation is enough to set his skin crawling, despite how indignant he’s trying to be.

Reginald’s probably looking for me, he thinks. It is not nearly as reassuring as he’d like it to be.

The echo of distant footsteps reaches him, and he grits his teeth. There’s a good chance they’re not even approaching his cell, but he wants to be ready anyways.

His captor draws closer and closer, their paces harsh and heavy. The sound is unfamiliar enough that Phoenix struggles to identify it. It’s similar to Caliente, but there’s not enough swagger, and the rest of Zoraxis Co.’s administrative board don’t walk like this. Considering the Violinist’s defection, it’s very possible that Dr. Zor promoted someone, but the Agency’s spies would’ve leaked that knowledge ages ago.

A previously unseen door swings open, and fluorescent light spills into the room. Wincing, he squeezes his eyes shut, turning his head away from the sudden brightness.

As his eyes adjust, he feels the cuffs around his wrists suddenly click free. Rough hands pull him out of his seat, and he barely manages not to stumble over himself as he catches his balance. Blowing out a breath, Phoenix stands up as straight as he can. If he’s going to escape—and he will—he needs to get himself together.

Two grim-faced old men stand on either side of him, each clutching one of his elbows. They don’t look like much, but Phoenix is not a fool—their grip is light, and yet still tight enough to hurt. Anyone who’s this strong in their later years is someone he doesn’t want to mess with, and besides, he doesn’t even know where he is. Trying to run now would most certainly end badly.

One of the old men tugs at his arm, and he inches forward a bit. Frankly, he’d rather do anything than comply with Zor’s henchmen, but he can’t really see another out in this situation. He’s a captive, and he’s got to act like it.

He’s marched down a long series of hallways, twisting left and right like there’s no tomorrow. Phoenix doesn’t understand it—Zoraxis agents have to live here too, right? How can they stop escapes or invasions if they have to navigate these endless halls? There’s no practical sense to it.

They’re either avoiding something important, or ensuring that he’ll struggle to find his way out later. Either way, it’s working, and he doesn’t like it.

Eventually, they stop by a rather unimpressive door. One of the old men leans forward and swipes a keycard through the reader, and they progress forward, into what is indisputably a prison block—except that every single enclosure is empty.

He’s unceremoniously shoved into a cell, and the door is locked behind him. By the time he’s turned around, the keycard-activated door is hissing shut. So much for that.

Then—

“Hello?”

Two strangers occupy the cell across the hall. They’re evidently siblings, sharing the same ginger hair and the same facial structure, and they’re both staring at him with the biggest, most surprised eyes he’s ever seen. They look like modern, everyday teenagers—but if they’ve been imprisoned here, they must be anything but.

Oh, right. Conversation.

“Hi,” Phoenix answers, coming up to the cell bars. This isn’t his first spin as a prisoner, but this is the first time he’s had others to talk to. It’s a bit awkward, really. “What’s… going on?”

The girl frowns. “What’d you do to get on VILE’s bad side?”

“Vile?” he answers. “Is that what they’re called here?”

“You don’t know?” Her eyebrows shoot up. “You’re in their jail, and you don’t know?”

Her brother speaks up. “Well, they are a secret organization…”

“He’s in their jail!” the girl repeats, scowling at her brother.

“Excuse me,” he interrupts, “but… who exactly are you?”

She turns back towards him, eyes narrowing. “You really don’t know?”

As an agent of the EOD, he‘s not really one for admitting such weakness, but the situation calls for it. “I know nothing.”

“You must be one unlucky guy, then,” the boy says.

Phoenix snorts a bit. “You have no idea.”

“You got a name?” the girl asks, crossing her arms.

“Agent Phoenix, at your service,” he answers, putting on his friendliest grin.

“Agent?” the boy repeats. “Your first name is agent?”

“That’s the part you’re having trouble with?” his sister deadpans. “Not that his last name is Phoenix?”

“C’mon, Ivyyyyyyy,” the boy groans.

Phoenix chuckles a bit. “You can just call me Phoenix, if you’d like. I really don’t mind.”

Ivy sighs. “Got it. Well, you know me now. He—“ she points at her brother— “is Zack.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” he nods, allowing his gaze to drift. There has to be something he can use here—some method of escape. He just needs to find it. “So—mind explaining what’s going on?”

———

Carmen’s an hour and a half out from her flight to Monte-Carlo when a man slides into the seat across from her, a newspaper in his left hand.

She raises her head instinctively, opens her mouth to speak, because that seat’s taken, sir, my friends will be back in a minute. But Zack and Ivy aren’t here, and she’d managed to somehow convince Player to take a nap before the next caper, and she’s—

she’s alone.

Determinedly ignoring the ragged sensation in her chest, Carmen lowers her gaze. He doesn’t know what’s going on, she reminds herself bitterly. He doesn’t know you’re waiting for someone who isn’t here.

Something ever so slightly slides into her peripherals, and she glances its way without moving her head. It’s a business card—elegant, yet simplistic—with a strange logo stamped in the center. Beneath the logo, the name Reginald Crane is printed, and right next to that is a hastily-written scribble: Flip me.

Carmen looks up at the man sitting next to her, narrowing her eyes. He doesn’t look like much, between his graying hair and lined face, but looks can be deceiving.

Silently, she picks up the business card and flips it over.

Miss Sandiego, it reads, in the same messy handwriting, I would like to talk.

She clenches one hand into a fist under the table. The man can’t be an ACME agent—he’s not wearing the proper uniform, and the business card doesn’t line up—but some irrational part of brain insists that she should run. “Well?”

“Miss Sandiego.” The man raises his head and sets his newspaper down on the table between them. His tone is too stiff to be natural, and it sends a chill down her spine. “It’s a pleasure.”

“You wanted to talk?” She holds up the card, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He clears his throat. “I believe that you and I have a common goal.”

The man—Reginald?—reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a full-to-bursting file folder. He carefully searches through the file’s contents, pulling out a single photograph with a muted flourish and putting it on the table next to him.

Carmen’s breath seizes.

A young man in a grey trench coat is surrounded by three uncomfortably familiar faces. Tigress, Paper Star, Le Chevre—all ganging up on a stranger in a dark alley. Considering this interaction, Carmen doubts the photographed victim is an everyday civilian, but her breath comes as short as it did that day in Morocco anyways.

“As a representative of the Agency,” Reginald continues, “I have come to offer you an alliance.”

She takes a moment to center herself. “The Agency?”

Everyone in the world knows about the Agency at this point—considering the events of the Peace Summit, she’d be surprised if someone didn’t. Still, the revelation comes out of left field. Why would an organization dedicated to controlling illegal syndicates want to deal with criminals?

Necessity, she thinks, eyeing the photo between them. “… You want me to help save your agent.”

“That’s part of it,” he hums, although the underlying tension ruins his noncommittal air. “We’d also like to offer you an extended alliance. Our tech crew has noted that you—“ he taps at the photo— “often are in opposition to these costumed strangers whenever they appear, and by estimate, they are also likely linked to Zoraxis. Undermining both organizations would prove beneficial to all involved.”

“You’re real good at this sort of thing,” Carmen observes.

He shrugs, smirking a bit. “I’m just stating fact.”

She leans back in her seat, frowning slightly as she thinks it over. The Agency isn’t government-owned, but that’s all she really knows about them. Even after the events at Zoraxis brought them into the limelight, information about them had been practically impossible to gather. Almost everything Player had found online was highly contested or hearsay, and they had barely any online presence to track—just a small hiring site for HR, and it wasn’t even connected to the organization’s servers.

Carmen may as well be putting her trust in the hands of a ghost.

“I’d need time to figure out anything solid,” she says loftily,  leaning back. “But I suppose I’m willing to work with you on this one. Just…. give me some time.”

“Of course.” Reginald grabs the photo and stands up, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice. “Thank you, Miss Sandiego.”

Despite her situation, she can’t hold back a smirk.

“Call me Carmen.”