#the headache: the handler

[thechaosjunkie]

Ye ole tag dump

[malka-lisitsa]

I'm not wrong, and you are welcome.

[hihomeghere]

Unspoken thing | Five Hargreeves / Reader

Word count : 1.7k Summary : Part 2 of One Bed, after that fateful night in the hotel room. Five has been avoiding you and now you're called into the Handler's office to take responsibility for the delay in exterminating the target. After a minor injury caused by the Handler, Five patches you up. You can no longer take the tension of the unspoken thing between the two of you. ( I do not own The Umbrella Academy or any of it's characters) Warnings / Tags : Allusions to smut, cursing, mentions of blood and surgery equipment, tension, use of y/n, Aged up!Five. Not requested. Part one here

“Impressive work, Y/n.” The handler said with a sickly sweet tone. She flipped through your completed files. You watched as she licked her finger before turning a page. You swallowed, fighting the urge to cower before her. “I see here that you suffered from a headache during your mission, is that correct?” She asked, cocking her head in false concern. It wasn’t just a headache. 

“Yes.” You answered, not daring to say anything more. Anything you said could and most likely would be held against you. She read the paper, her eyes flying from left to right.

“Hmm, yes it seems that this delayed your extermination of the target?” She phrased the statement as more of a question. Treating you as a child instead of an employee. She clicked her tongue leaning forward, clasping her hands. You bit the inside of your cheek. 

“No.” You tried to keep your voice steady, with no discernible tone. She raised her eyebrows, her fake smile falling.

What delayed the job was unforeseen circumstances, Five was looking for you instead of the target. You had split up, and he couldn’t find his way back to you. Which had then led to a very interesting night in a hotel room. 

You should have known that you would get called in for this instead of Five. Even though it had been both of your responsibilities to eliminate the target. But Five was one of the handlers favorites. 

“Hm.” She hummed, clicking her tongue, “You know Y/n if you let any of our trained scientists here poke around in that little brain of yours. We could figure out why you’re getting those headaches.” She pointed to your head with a well manicured red nail. You froze, all the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. You were transported back to that lab. The sounds of drilling, cold sterile instruments, the excruciating pain. Your screams echoing off the walls. The scientists with bloody gloves and masks.

“No. No one is going to ‘poke’ around anywhere.” You said quickly, shaking your head, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants. The handler smiled, pleased by your reaction. You sighed looking down at your lap. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. 

“Well, the offer remains if you change your mind.” She said standing up, you stood up as well. Glad this interrogation was over. “Although if you wish to stay Number Five’s partner, you’ll need to start pushing through your headaches to complete the mission.” She said false encouragement in her voice. Her hand gripped your shoulder as she led you out of her office, her sharp nails digging into your skin. You winced, pulling away from her. She cocked her head as though she was surprised by your reaction.

“You won’t have to worry about finding him a new partner.” You said through gritted teeth, “We’ll manage just fine.” You turned on your heel, striding towards the stairs. Once you were sure you were out of her view you let out a shaky breath. In for 4, hold for 7- Tears started to prick your eyes. You took in a shuddery breath, your hand coming to your heart. You rushed down the stairs, a stabilizing hand on the railing. Your other hand moved from your heart to cover your shoulder. You started breathing rapidly, your heart pounding in your ears. You turned down an empty hallway, leaning up against the wall. A cool hand wrapped around your wrist, Five blinked you both into his office. You would never get used to that, like someone was injecting ice into your veins.

He led you to one of his office chairs, the same one you had sat in when you first met him. He squatted in front of you, inspecting you for any injuries. His cold fingertips landed on your shoulder, he stopped, his eyes meeting yours.

“Who did this to you?” He asked his jaw clenching, you lowered your gaze. He tilted your chin up with his hand, forcing you to look at him. His gaze was deadly, calculated, ready to strike whoever did this to you.

“The handler.” You whispered, biting your lip. Five clicked his tongue, a scowl on his face.

“Of course, I assume this after the mission debrief?” He stood up walking around to the other side of his desk, rifling through his drawers.

“Yes, Five it’s fine-” You said, picking at the skin on your hands. 

“Fine? That bitch dug her claws into you.” He scoffed, shaking his head behind his desk. He stalked around his desk to kneel in front of you again. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, his forearms bare except for the umbrella tattoo. Part of you wanted to trace the veins on his arms, to touch him in any way. You thought that being with him physically would have scratched the itch, instead it only fed the fire inside you. You missed his touch, most of all you missed him. You could count on your hands the number of words he had said to you since that night. He opened up his first aid kit, pulling out a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He carefully poured a small bit onto a cotton ball gently dabbing it against the bleeding crescent marks in your shoulder. You flinched but prided yourself on keeping quiet as he pressed the cotton ball onto the wound. You felt the prick of new tears in your eyes, you raised your gaze to the ceiling. Your vision clouding with unshed tears, you sniffled as quietly as you could. Although every sound seemed amplified in the tiny office.

You watched Five work, this wasn’t some gaping wound he had to patch up by himself. It was a scratch, but you could tell he had a system, doing this many times before. His jaw was set with an unreadable expression. He moved like a machine, programmed only to do this task. He opened up a bandaid, covering the wound on your shoulder. 

“Done.” He said, rising to his feet.

“Thank you.” You said slowly getting to your feet. He walked back to his desk, opening the drawer and setting the first aid kit back in its normal spot. Now to leave, he had only done his duty as your partner. Nothing more. He had made it clear he didn’t love you, and made it clear that you were only partners. You were ready to go home, curl up in your bed with a good book. You walked to the door, your hand settling on the door knob.

“Leaving so soon?” He questioned, you looked back at him. He was pulling out a bottle of scotch, two glasses balanced in his hands.

“What?” You asked, your brows pinching together. 

“Can I not ask my partner to share a nightcap?” He asked, recoiling, a teasing smile tugging on his lips. Your heart thumped in your ears, you longed to be close to him again. Longed to be back in his corner where you belonged.

But he wasn’t yours.

“No.” You bit your cheek, avoiding his gaze as you looked away from him. Unspoken things always seemed so romantic, full of tension, the will-they-won't-they of it all. It didn’t feel romantic  right now, full of tension yes. This tension that made you want to tear your skin off, instead of your clothes.

“No?” He raised his brows, setting down the glasses on this desk before loosening his tie. 

“Is that what I am to you? Just your partner?” The words slipped out before you could think to bite your tongue. You clench your fists, grounding yourself with the dull pain in your palms. He scoffed, pouring the golden liquid into his glass. 

“You should know what you mean to me.” He turned his eyebrows pinched together, “I’m not some womanizer.” He knocked back the glass, hissing as the alcohol ran down his throat. Your face burned, shame creeping up your neck.

“Well I don’t know, so what am I to you?” You asked. His chest rose and fell rapidly, he hung his head bracing himself on his desk. 

“Fine.” He said standing to his full height, “You want to know what you are to me?” his lip twitched as he waited for your response. You nodded, crossing your arms. “You’re my everything.” It was like someone had dumped a bucket of water over you. He walked around the desk, you were frozen like a deer in the headlights. He stalked towards you, “I can’t think when you’re around- you-” he huffed clenching and unclenching his fists. “You drive me crazy.” he said softly, his eyes meeting  yours. 

“I-” You began when the door opened, pushing you forward into Five’s arms.

“Oh! So sorry Y/n!” Herb squeaked, pulling the case file close to his chest. You looked up, directly into Five’s face. His jaw was clenched, his stern gaze turned on Herb now.

“No worries.” You breathed, holding onto Five’s arms for balance as you got back on your feet. Once you were able to support yourself again, Five reached out and snatched the file from Herb’s hands. He began to thumb through it, “You’ll be leaving immediately.” Herb clasped his hands together, “Handler’s orders.” You internally groaned, what a fucking cock block. 

“Thank you Herb.” You said walking up beside Five, “We’ll take it from here.” You said with a reassuring smile. He nodded before closing the door behind him. Once Herb had walked down the hallway you put your hand on Five’s shoulder. He turned his head to look at you, his eyes full of emotion. “Let’s get the job done, and once we are back we can pick up where we left off.” You smiled softly, moving to stand in front of him. You reached up and straightened his tie, he relaxed under your touch. 

“Alright, tesoro.” He smiled, the corner of his lip pulling up. You pulled him forward by his tie, softly kissing his cheek. You’d have to thank the Handler for her hand in all of this, maybe an edible arrangement? You chuckled to yourself as you walked toward the briefcase department, Five’s hand resting on your lower back.

[mistydeyes]

AAAAA I HAVE AN IDEA OKAY can u pls do ghost with a veterinarian reader? Bonus points if she’s also a dog trainer that trained task force 141’s K-9 unit for them so all of the dogs love her and she gets scary dog privileges

thank you for requesting anon! loved researching the role of a veterinarian in the forces :) hope you enjoy reading!

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summary: Simon is the definition of providing "scary dog privileges" and he's happy to be dating the Army's veterinarian who has a soft spot for him and dogs.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!vet/dog trainer!Reader

warnings: swearing, mention of wounds/violence

a/n: omg did you know in pharmacy school we actually learn how to prepare and counsel pet owners! in one of my classes, i learned how to compound a cough syrup for a cat and an analgesic fur cream for a dog :)

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Your pleasant dreams were rudely interrupted by the obnoxious blare of your alarm. Rubbing your tired eyes, you groggily turned over. Despite your boyfriend being on a regimented schedule, you could never relate. “God you need to teach me your ways, Simon,” you said into your pillow, almost as if he was in the room. But as you got out of bed, you faced the disappointment that he was still on deployment. As you dressed for the day and fastened your hair into a bun, you tried to go over your agenda. The morning was filled with vet clinic planning and clinical meetings. You cringed at the thought. It was honestly the worst part of your day. After lunch, you had two patients to follow up with after some shrapnel wounds gained on the field. Just two German Shepherds who were always well obedient for you. You knew they’d be getting some treats today. Finally, your day ended with a combat fitness test. You had perfected this over the years and knew the handlers and canines were up to the challenge.

The morning had gone by slowly. You sipped your coffee as you exchanged ideas with the supply department and pharmacy. They were preparing for a month-long deployment and along with human patients, the pharmacy took care of the working dogs. After three hours of revising, you finally had a full plan and med list. You could feel your phone buzz but as you saw the examination room with a returning patient file on the door, you decided to look at it later. You took your time to examine the dog's coat and checked on the progress of her stitches. “She’s healing perfectly, private,” you smiled at her handler as you gave the canine a treat. She nodded before leading the dog out of the room. Just as you were about to check your phone, you ran into your other patient for the day. Hopefully it isn't something important, you thought to yourself as you gave a similar examination. With the final few sentences, you finished your charting for the day. You sighed contently but soon groaned at the gentle sound of your watch beeping. You closed your office door before running off to your final assignment for the day.

“Alright we’re done with combat PT for the week,” you commanded as your regiment of soldiers and canines relaxed. After two hours of running through the course and showing the basics of taking down an enemy, you felt like they were satisfactory for the time. This was one of your better commands and the dogs had performed beautifully. They would be ready in a matter of weeks, right on schedule. “Be sure to give your companions a treat before you return them home,” you said and the group dispersed. You stretched your tired limbs as you saw them walk back to base. “Just another day in the Veterinary Corps,” you sighed. You loved your job but you realized after a few years that it was more of a balance between training the working animals and their handlers along with the clinical side. You were in the middle of a 15-week-long session to prepare the dogs for the field and the handlers were giving you a headache.

You shielded your eyes from the fluorescent light as you entered the base. “Long day, Captain?” one of your techs asked and you nodded. “Only eight more weeks until I get my evenings back,” you smiled as you walked over to the office space. “I got a question for you,” he continued, smiling at you. “A few of us are going off base and–“ Before he could finish, he stopped in the middle of his sentence. His gaze turned down the hallway as you heard heavy footsteps approach. “Lieutenant Riley,” he said officially and you turned to see Simon approaching. You smiled at him as you heard your tech quickly wish you a goodnight. “You’d think he saw a ghost,” you joked as he walked up to you. Despite his balaclava, his eyes crinkled with a smile. He shrugged and you avoided the urge to reach up and kiss his cheek. “You don’t answer your phone,” he observed and you remembered the text from earlier. “Sorry, long day,” you said sheepishly and he nodded as if you provided a satisfactory response.

“Didn’t realize you were back so soon,” you said and returned his smile. “Me either,” he replied, “found out this morning.” That must have been him this morning. You muttered an apology and he waved a hand passively. “Anyways, I got a surprise for you,” he said, a hint of cheer in his voice. You raised an eyebrow curiously. “You? You have a surprise for me?” you said in disbelief, “Must be a special day.” Simon shook his head at your antics, letting out a chuckle. He motioned for you to follow him and you walked in step. You made casual conversation about your current group in training and the good visits from some of your patients. “You still give them treats after?” he asked, shooting a glance at you. “Still do,” you said cheerfully “not much has changed in 3 months, Simon.” “You spoil them,” he joked back, rubbing a hand along his sore jaw. Must’ve been one hell of a mission, you thought. You continued chatting until you heard the familiar padding of footprints on the base floor.

“Is that who I think it is?” you said excitedly and soon your favorite partner came running towards you. The handler, also a close friend, tried to wrangle him but Riley slipped out of his grasp. In a flash of tan and black fur, Riley rubbed his head against your leg. “Riles! You’ve gotten so big,” you cooed as you brushed through his coat. Despite being named Riley out of his litter, you loved the almost human-like nickname. You petted him affectionately, bending down to greet your longtime friend. “Heel, Riley,” Ghost commanded and Riley sat down obediently. “Oh stop it, Lieutenant,” you responded, hitting Simon’s thigh and encouraging Riley to come back into your embrace. As you showered Riley in love and belly rubs, you heard Simon tell the handler that he would make sure you returned Riley at the end of the night. The private nodded and continued to his own quarters.

“You have enough puppy time?” Simon joked and you shot a look at him. “It’s never enough with Riles over here,” you said happily, continuing to pet him. “Riley did a great job on the field, Price was impressed,” he complimented and you couldn’t help but beam at his words. “Well Price should know I train the best of the best,” you remarked as you looked back down at the wagging dog, “and he is one of the best.” After another fifteen of you playing around and Simon getting in some pets of his own, it was time to bring Riley to the kennel. He looked tired but happy as you walked through the base. You held the unlatched leash in your hand as Riley obediently walked in between you and Simon. “Always such a good boy,” you hummed as both you and Simon brushed his fur.

When you reached the kennel, you quietly opened Riley’s cage to not wake the other animals. He turned around a few times, trying to find the most comfortable position. “If you come by tomorrow, Laswell is considering bringing Riley and Apollo on our next mission,” Simon offered, putting a hand on your shoulder as Riley laid down to rest. You waved to her before you checked all of the dogs were returned and happy. “I’d like that,” you smiled into his touch as you walked out, “Do you know how long you’ll be gone this time?” “Probably 6 weeks max if we get the job done,” he said gruffly, averting his eyes from you. Even after years of familiarity, Simon always hesitated to talk about the job. You nodded and closed the kennel for the evening. It was quiet as you walked back to your quarters.

“I won’t be leaving for another week,” he spoke up, voice echoing in the empty hallway. You turned to him with a smirk on your face. “Oh really?” you questioned, putting a hand on his cheek. His eyes flashed around but you laughed as it was late and the coast was most certainly clear. “I would enjoy some company, would you?” you flirted. Simon grunted but you were prepared to draw this out of him. “Hmm, what was that Lieutenant Riley?” you teased before he coughed out a sheepish “yes.” You teasingly beckoned him to follow you. He let out a dry laugh before following at your heels, just like a loyal companion.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König AU Writing Masterlist

Masterlist

Konig Dump

Happy Tails:

KorTac decided to rent some space in a small animal adoption cafe to provide an animal therapy program for their agents. König came for the snacks.

Intro [1] [2] [3]

Summoned!CoD AU

Reader, or Summoner, was forced by the military to summon a beast of war to use in battle. Unfortunately, Summoner isn't great at controlling themselves, so they accidentally summoned a being far too powerful for any of you to control.

Intro

None of Your Shit

Ever Watchful

An Ant Among Men Among Gods Among Cosmos

Kiss the Ocean Kiss Yourself (First Kiss)

Accidental Meteor Showers

An Unexpected Appearance of Softness

A Question Best Left Unanswered

Sweets and Sours and Maggots

Circles of Stars in Cosmic Waltzes

Writhe Beneath Me

Silly Games for Silly People

A Step Through Time, A Step Closer

A Different Definition of Ash

In The Heart of My Mother I Laugh

Mistakes Meld Realities Together

Paper Trails Leave Bleeding Hearts

Extras

The Best Song for Summoned!CoD

Nice Kidnapper!König

To live is to suffer. Your existence feels meaningless, and you know that if you dropped off the face of the earth, nobody would remember your name. Your one chance of happiness was speaking to a nice masked man at a bar, but your 'friends' had cut off your time and stolen you away. Little did any of you know, he'd steal you back soon enough.

Intro [1] [2]

First Time Out of the Basement

Flickering Shadows Hide the Light

Cream and Honey and Thorns and Nettles

Ablutions with Acid

Carve the Fat

The Possibility of an Open Window

Do You Miss What You Had? Do You Miss Who I Was?

Long Pig

Read Me To Sleep, Let Me Drift Away

I Entered Daniel's Den and I Saw the Truth Before Me

A/B/O Universe

In a world where military soldiers are forcibly paired up with partners to produce more soldiers, König is paired with an omega O, and has to deal with the new changes in his life.

Intro

My Ever Empty Bed

An Olive Branch Among Thorns

Declivities

Two Can Play At That Game

To Market to Market to Buy a Fat Hog

Aren't You Tired Yet?

I Sit With You And Cry For What Could Have Been

The House is Burning, and Everyone is Laughing and Smiling [1] [2]

Kinktober

Ghostbusters AU:

Who ya gonna call? GHOSTBUSTERS

New Recruit

A Conversation with Those Who Laugh at Death

You're a What Now?

Basement Bros

Infection!AU

You've managed an off-grid farm ever since you parents passed. It's been years, but you've endured the winters and grown to be an incredible homesteader. However, that was before the lights went out, and the barracks north of you went to shit.

Monster Trainer!Cod

Reader, code name Handler, is assigned by higher ups to be the Designated Operator of König, a rowdy and difficult-to-control jotunn/nachtkrappe shifter hybrid with a strange history of 'accidents' with his previous handlers. Your best bet to get by is to speak to others on base, but nobody is forthcoming with information.

Talking Heads Roll On Floors

Headaches Split my Skull, Stop Talking

Mischief and Mayhem

A Knot Undone Spills Forth Endless Possibilities

Break Down Build Up

Phantom of the Opera!AU

Inspired by a glorious ask, a version of Phantom of the Opera where König is our beloved phantom trying to save reader from the horrible fate of being seduced by a lover from the past with a dangerous agenda. König is a twisted man, but it takes a dark soul to recognize another, and so he will do whatever he can (from the shadows) to save his beloved songbird.

The ask the inspired it all

A Man Among Ruins

Lights Go Out I Wake Up

Cannibal King!AU

Taking place in the world of Sons of the Forest, reader is trapped on a remote island. Soon she is kidnapped by a cannibal king. Once by his side, she learns that life in the woods isn't as painful as expected, adn that humanity comes in many forms.

King Cannibal Conquer Quest

Rest Well Reign Strong

Fuck Me Like A Bitch So I May Love You More

Stars Whisper Prophecies into Waiting Wells

Sweet Like Honey Suckles, Bloody Like Venison

Local Executioner!König

Living in a small village leads to a tight-knit community. When you father left to be an adventurer after your mother passed in childbirth, you were taken in by the village baker, your uncle. You always avoided the public executions, but your uncle gets sick and can't go out to market to sell his buns on the very day an execution is slotted. You must go, and there you find a cursed outsider who sparks your interest.

Carve Out a Place for Me to Sing

Hope is in Buns, Life is in Stars, Promises are in Vain (Pt 2)

Behind The Dew You Sing To Me (Pt 2) (Pt 3)

Cat Hybrid!KorTac

Horangi and König are sick and tired of roughing it on the streets. They were born and bred to be soldiers, but the batch of kittens that were meant to be made into KorTac's next greatest soldiers escaped into the city, they had to grow up on the streets. They made their little gang, but Horangi and König always wanted more. One day, reader comes along and finds two sick kittens on the street. Unable to stop herself, she brings them in and nurses them back to health. She immediately regrets her decisions.

Intro

Konig and Horangi Refs

Hunters

Horangi Wink

Horangi's Hoard Art

Meeting the Human Forms (First Time)

Cuddling Konig

Move comic

Food Quality Ask

Get Out of There! Comic

Devourer of Treats Ask

Child Locks Ask

Buzzing Static Burns The Silence Between My Ears (Ask)

Art from This Post

[actualbuckybames]

Another scene from that fic I haven't posted. Excerpt of this scene under the cut

---

Bucky falls the instant he steps inside the facility. Vertigo takes hold and then he’s falling, falling away from himself and away from the howling storm trying to tear him apart. He falls and the Soldier weathers the storm, the memories hitting him like hail. It’s just pain. Pain and noise. He’s done more under worse conditions.

He takes the pain and burns it like fuel as he plunges into the depths, puts the noise where it can’t disrupt his focus. The mission is to confirm this facility’s purpose and purge it. No prisoners. As always, no survivors.

A quarter of them try to fight. They die.

A quarter of them try to run. They die.

The rest beg for their lives. They die.

The last makes a stand in the bare concrete room housing the cryo unit. He manages to separate the Soldier from his guns with a kind of stun baton that leaves the metal arm jolting and uncooperative, but on his next lunge, the Soldier grabs the baton halfway down the shaft with his right hand and crushes it.

His left arm resets and locks in for a punch that sends the man crashing into the cryo pod. Though blood streams from his nose, he fumbles at his waist and unsheathes a knife. The Soldier almost smiles. When the Soldier draws one of the tantos from his back, the man pales. He’s fast enough to dodge when the Soldier whips it at his head and just barely quick enough to catch the second tanto on his own blade when the Soldier closes the gap.

Caught up in the flurry of blows, the Soldier lets the grin twist his lips under his mask. This man is good. Very, very good. As good as anyone can get with unmodified flesh and bone.

But he is unmodified. Sweat gleams on his face and he pants with each lunge, parry, and dodge. The Soldier feels no exhaustion and gives no quarter, chasing him around the small space and ensuring he never has any delusions of reaching the door.

For a minute, the man thinks he’s holding his own. The Soldier lets him think that. It feels good to stretch these muscles, to wield a knife in a way he hasn’t since fighting Captain America—

Fighting Steve—

“Перешеек,” the man gasps, and the Soldier freezes. That is what that word means: silence and stillness. The land between shifting waters, immovable and eternal. His muscles lock. The arm’s plates lock. Everything locks and his thoughts break against his body in waves.

The man doubles over with his hands on his knees and heaves for breath. Drops of sweat splatter on the floor, joining the blood he’s shed from the dozen small cuts the Soldier has inflicted on him over the course of their fight.

They’re fighting. Right. But the man said перешеек—he’s a handler. The Soldier obeys the handler.

“Fuck,” the man straightens and glares at the Soldier, “you are fucking terrifying.”

The Soldier cannot respond, but his muscles are starting to itch with a need to move. There is a headache crawling out from the base of his skull with a sound like a scream.

“You killed all of them, didn’t you?” He peers past the Soldier, towards the door. “I don’t understand why they keep saying to bring you back alive. You’re not worth this.”

He knows: the knife in his hand belongs in the man’s eye, in his brain. But перешеек holds him fast. Can’t disobey the handler. Can’t move. Can’t do anything other than watch as the handler steps close and lines up his own knife.

“Fuck that,” the man says, face contorting in anger. “Fuck you.”

He drives the knife into the Soldier’s chest.

Pain crashes through the Soldier’s mind in a tsunami that rips away the shackles of перешеек. Clarity, as it always does even without the burn of electricity, follows in its wake: this man isn’t his handler. He doesn’t have authority to override the mission. The mission is to take no prisoners and leave no survivors and he is still alive.

The Soldier’s left hand slams into the man’s chest and throws him back. Something cracks on impact; a rib, from the man’s grunt and subsequent gasp. With his right hand, the Soldier rips the knife out of his chest. The man’s next sound of pain is cut off by that knife when Soldier drives up into his brain through the fleshy underside of his jaw. A puppet with its strings cut, the man crumples and the Soldier lets him fall. Even lets him keep the knife.

For just a moment, the room is silent, no more echoes of combat bouncing off its bare gray walls. The Soldier’s breathing is the loudest sound.

He spares the next moment to examine the tear in his jacket. The wound beneath is bleeding heavily from him pulling the knife out but, upon inspection, it shows itself to be narrow and small. At the angle he struck at, the blade must have hit bone, to be stopped from going any deeper. Or the man underestimated the Soldier’s muscle density and the force required to rip through it.

The wound requires cleaning, but he halts his steps toward the exit and the medical supplies beyond when a quiet beep reaches his ears. It’s a sound he knows, a sound deeper than anything a knife can reach. He turns and faces the cryo pod. The beep comes again. Underneath it is the soft hiss of air through narrow tubes. His left hand twitches and he crosses the room in three long strides.

There’s a man in the cryo pod. That doesn’t make sense; this is the Soldier’s pod, even if he has no intention of using it ever again.

He wipes at the fog on the small window and frowns at the pale, gaunt face framed with ice crystals that rests on the other side. That frown deepens when the face and its tousled blond hair tugs at frosted strings of memory in his mind. As the monitor beeps a soft and infrequent report on the man’s vitals, recognition gives way to vertigo and the Soldier—no, no, James, Bucky, my name is Bucky—nearly collapses against the pod. Frigid metal bites into what little exposed skin makes contact but he doesn’t feel it because his eyes are fixed on Steve. Steve, who’s stuck in the pod. Steve, who’s stripped of his serum and small and week and frozen. Steve, whose vitals are sounding off ever slower while Bucky’s own heartbeat thunders in his ears.

GET HIM OUT. The order screams through his thoughts and tears up everything else on its way. He’s slamming his fist on the emergency release before he even thinks to move. But the pod doesn’t open. Doesn’t open when he hits the release again. Doesn’t open when he tries the actual command sequence for defrosting. Doesn’t open when he slams his fist into it with a shout. And still Steve's vitals are slowing.

Static bites at his focus and black creeps in at the edges of his vision. All he can see is the cryo chamber. Steve. Steve. That cold—he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. It never leaves. It’s enough to kill Stevie. More than enough.

God, he might already be dead. When was the last beep?

“Stay with me,” he begs the silent figure while he claws at every seam in the pod, hunting for purchase. “Don’t you dare quit, you’re too stubborn to stop now, you hear me? Too stubborn by half. Stay with me, don’t leave.”

He hasn’t heard a beep in—

In—

His metal hand smashes into the side of the pod, denting the metal enough to expose a lip he can fasten his fingers around. He rips the panel away with a roar but it’s just an exterior support. There are so many more. So many.

He’s yelling at Steve, now, so Steve can hear him over the sound of Bucky tearing apart the pod. Screaming for him to stay, to wake up, to stay god please stay, because the monitor isn’t beeping anymore and—

The last hinge gives way with a shriek and the pod door goes crashing across the room. Searingly cold air blasts over him, forcing his eyes into a squint, but he reaches in blindly with his left hand and finds—

Nothing. The pod is empty. Blinking away tears, he stares at the unoccupied restraints in mute confusion, the adrenaline pumping through his veins only making that confusion spiral faster as frigid mist spreads across the floor. A blink and that mist is gone. The cold is gone.

A glance to the right: no vitals monitor. A glance back at the pod: no Steve.

There’s blood roaring in his ears, the ground is swaying under his feet, he can’t get enough air, and he's falling.

---

He comes to after a few seconds, finding himself sprawled on his right side. Another few seconds pass before he pieces together what happened and why his right shoulder and head ache. The wound in his chest is still bleeding. It’s the easiest thing to focus on with his mind fogged by confusion and pain.

Thick drops of blood pool around the fingers of his hand when he brings it near and then fall to the floor. He watches them, transfixed. And then notes how bright red his blood is. A good sign.

With a bit of effort, he gets his left hand braced against the floor in front of him and, fingers scraping on the concrete, slowly levers himself up while putting as little strain on his core as he can. He uses the cryo pod for support as he gets to his feet, leaving a bloody handprint on the metal. The front of his jacket is shiny with blood and the room spins a bit when he stands straight, but it’s manageable once he leans against the wall and takes a few measured breaths. He looks to his right; the cryo pod is empty.

Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?

[blueorchid-95]

Blue steps forward, her face solemn. “Kai. You’re related to my agent, I’m assuming.” It’s not a question, and she doesn’t bother to make it sound like one. There’s a little extra emphasis on the word “my”—clearly not intentional, but there all the same.

Questioning and Revelations

After some medical attention, Kai (@agent--shadow) finds himself inside one of the agency's interrogation rooms. Several signal blockers have been set up, cutting him off from any outside communication.

Handler Ellie walks in the room, her eyes cold and strict. She puts down an analog recorder, several digital microphones and cameras have littered the room.

"I would appreciate it if you would cooperate with this questioning, young man." Despite her words implying it was a request, her tone was clearly implying that it wasn't an option to be uncooperative.

She checks her watch, checking the time. If her guess is right, Handler Blue (@blueorchid-95) will arrive in half an hour. She would've heard about Kai's location around this time and once she hears about this, it would not be pretty.

[joemama-2]

A SPRINKLE OF CURIOSITY

a/n: part two to “made with love”.

word count: 1859

toji x reader

tags/warning: angst, fluff

find part one here: made with love

toji wakes up with a pounding headache, like always. he really doesn’t want to get up but he knows he has to. rubbing his bleary eyes, he can faintly make out what room he is in. not his.

he can tell by the cleaner walls, the faint scent of something floral and a woman he doesn’t even remember the name of passed out to his right. from the view of her bare back on display, he can piece together that he had maybe a little too much to drink last night.

toji never stays long enough for them to wake up, so like routine, he finds his scattered pieces of clothing, putting them back on. it feels uncomfortable, dried semen making the boxers feel a little too tight. and like the stealthy man he is, he slips out the bedroom and apartment without much noise.

he doesn't even remember what city he's in, but he can only assume it's not close. having picked up a small job shiu assigned to him yesterday in the hokkaido prefecture, he hasn't been in the comfort of his own place for a couple days now.

he slowly walked to the nearest ATM, pulling out his card to check his balance. and would you look at that? still 0. now he’s pissed. he’s stranded in some city he doesn’t know with no money to get back and the job he was there for in the first place didn’t even pay him. those motherfuckers.

he huffs and pulls out his phone, calling his handler's number. without even waiting, as soon as he picks up, toji is quick to express his annoyance. "where's my damn deposit?"

shiu's tired chuckle sounds through the receiver. "relax, it's a weekend. won't come in until tomorrow."

of course. "then how the hell am i supposed to get back?"

"like you have a home?"

toji's eye twitches, grip tightening around the small cellular device. "keep talking, i'll rip that tongue out your mouth."

with a sigh, the other man responds. "jesus christ, you can't go one day without bitching. i left some cash in your pocket."

"how much?" toji's hand feels for the money, reaching in to grab it out and count it, balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear. "is this enough for a train ticket?"

"if you didn't use it already, then yeah."

and another huff before toji closes the screen of his phone, effectively ending the call.

so this was basically the lead up to where toji currently finds himself. after hours of a stiff chair that hurt his ass, stiff air, and the smell of elderly all around him, he practically throws himself into his small, run-down apartment and onto the mattress. there's no bed frame, hell there's barely anything inside, but it's enough for him. the tiny sheet crumples underneath his large form as he gets comfy, a small sigh escaping him.

everything is just as he left it, dishes in the sink, an old takeout box and the counter and the TV playing some who knows what show. damn it, was that on the whole time he was gone? now his bill will be even higher. there's never a moment of peace with toji, even after days and days of where he honestly deserves it.

his eye peak open, hand reaching for the remote to shut the TV off. just as the screen blanks, something instantly catches his attention. one that makes him sit up, despite his fatigue. it looks so out of place, like it doesn't belong. and quite frankly, it doesn't.

the pink box is vibrant against the cold surface of his kitchen counter, standing out like it directly has a light shone on it. it's almost taunting him, enticing him to come closer. and toji has never been one to show a lot of self-restraint. when it comes to you though, he didn't think he could try harder.

but he finds himself standing up and walking to the box. the heart drawn on top causes an eyebrow to raise as he opens it. there's nothing inside. after having got home from the encounter with you, he was hesitant to bite into the first cookie. but he's glad that he did. they tasted better than any other sweet he had tasted. the powder littered his lips and the soft jelly exploded into his mouth like fireworks. before he knew it, all five treats were gone in the matter of minutes.

but the box is still here for some reason. why he kept it and now threw it out as soon as he finished is questionable, but toji chalks it up to being lazy. because why else would he keep it? he sighs and closes the box again.

he falls back onto the mattress, eyes glued to the ceiling that has cracks and some mold growing. he really needs to move out. that thought is quickly thrown out when something else invades his brain. you.

your voice, your face, your stupid smile, and the words you told him. "love." the oh so holy pastries were made with your love. you were obviously joking, but an idiotic part of his mind entertains the idea that you weren't.

his head shakes. what are you doing? why is he acting this way about you? he barely knows you, you just own the bakery he knows. you're nothing more than a simple person who has no business getting involved with him. no, he has no business getting involved with you.

you're too kind, too sweet for him. he can't even see himself with another woman right now, not after his wife. at least, that's what he thinks. either way, there's no way someone like you would be interested in him. you probably have a loving family, a loving boyfriend. all in all, you have something going for you. you have things to lose. he doesn't. oh and of course, the main part of it all,

you're a complete normie.

you probably don't even know about curses, let alone sorcerers. you're probably one of those people who blame it on life's obstacles, the unwarranted negativity. but maybe you're just so damn positive all the time that you do literally the opposite of attracting curses. curses are formed from negative emotions, and you don't seem like you have those. that's what he thinks.

you see, toji has a very bad habit of assuming things. he's here having this entire dilemma on the kind of person you are when he knows jack shit about you. that's wrong, he knows. but toji....toji does a lot of wrong things. a very shitty justification, but toji is a shitty person.

would you think so too?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------——

it's been about a week, give or take, since he last saw you. but no matter where he goes or who he's killing, it's like the simplest things remind him of you. this is unhealthy, honestly. growing attached way too quick and way too easily, he has a lot of things to fix up on.

pink reminds him of you. puppies remind him of you. rainbows remind him of you. sweets remind him of you. and the sun reminds him of you.

so as you can see, you're everywhere he goes. following him when he wants nothing more than to get away. you must be a witch.

he just wants to gouge his own eyes out at this point, anything will save him from the restraints of adoring someone. he likes to think he's strong. wait no, he knows he's strong. but for some reason, you make him weak. and toji hates being weak. he confronts those who try to make him seem like he's anything but the terrifying killer he is and makes them beg for mercy.

which is why, he's currently back in the god forsaken place that started it all.

and what are you doing? greeting him like he's an old friend, like you've known each other for years. it makes him sick.

"you're back." you say, almost sounding relieved. do you always greet customers like this? or is it just him? "did you like my love?"

he wishes you would just stop referring to your treats as your damn love, it makes him want to hate you even more. "yeah." is all he says, a small scowl present with his arms crossed over his chest.

"tooooold you." you chuckle.

he wants to scoff at your cockiness, at your playfulness. can you just stop being so damn cute? silence follows as he stares you down, but you don't look the slightest bit bothered by it. why aren't you? do you think you're better than him?

"i'm assuming you came back for more." he didn't, but you're already completing the same routine as last time, picking a box and filling it. "we have some new ones this week, so i'll give you some of those. unless you really liked the ones from last time, we still have the custard ones, so i can give you that to--"

"what's your name?" he cuts you off, firmly.

you momentarily still, eyes flicking back up to his over the counter, he's still looking at you. as you stand back to your full height, you're slightly confused. however, you tell him. "y/n."

he knows he's in deep shit when just your name gives him butterflies. and hearing you say it? he just wants to grab you from over the counter and kiss you until you can't even rem--

he clears his throat. god, he's too horny.

"y/n what?"

"y/n l/n."

"are you lying?"

you snort a laugh. "who lies about their name?"

you're right, who does do that? "suspicious people."

"am i suspicious?" your head tilts in an frustratingly adorable manner.

no, he thinks. you're anything but. you seem like you wear your heart on your sleeve and you just seriously might be the most genuine person he's met. but then again, he doesn't know you, so this might all be a facade. you might actually be a two-faced bitch. "a little."

you hum softly and nod. with a small look to the ceiling, in thought, you say the most ridiculous thing ever. "well, how about we change that?"

a scoff breaks through. "how?"

and he supposes this entire time, you were filling the box and closing it back with the same sticker and heart from before. "you can get to know me." scratch that, that was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard you say.

"no." is his automatic response.

"why not?"

"i'm not looking for friends."

"we don't have to be friends." you say, sliding the box over to him. "but we can know each other's name at least. and since you already know mine......" you trail off as he gets the hint to what you're saying.

hesitation floods him because you really could be a spy or a fake. telling you his name could be dangerous and what if you try to report him to some authorities or something.

he's overthinking if you couldn't already tell.

but, he's getting older and probably won't have much more time left with what his occupation is. he's taken risks before, so what's one more? and again, you're right. how can he assume you're not really who you say you are if he doesn't find out himself.

so, with a deep exhale, his fingers twitching against his arm, he tells you. "toji fushiguro."

[reno-the-himbo-turk]

Pain that was the first and last things Reno experienced today. He woke up with a headache and some lower back pain from the day prior's workout routine. He'd gone to classes and made it through the day just fine until after classes it happened. Men came, more specifically men in suits. They'd been looking for him saying they wanted to have a little chat and offer him a job; claimed benefits, perks, a high wage and more but something about them had the ginger on edge. It was the look the bald one gave him the vibes were off and then he spotted it when the man looked to his handler the collar Reno saw it and knew he was fucked.

From there began the fight of his life. He hadn't noticed they'd drugged his cola but he was feeling the effects of it now but thankfully his speed mutation came in handy. The cafe they were at was public so he'd made a mad dash for it but the drug made his mad dash only slightly above average speed and before he could react a hand snagged his arm and tore it out of the socket before slamming him into the ground. Screaming in agony the boy discharged his other mutation and sent a strong electric shock into the other. It worked for a few moments but didn't stop the hit to his ribs let alone the sickening snap. The man behind the bald fucker kept giving orders and despite the bald man's desires he couldn't fully subdue Reno. After what felt like an eternity he had a plan. Using his feeble strength he gripped the others collar and poured as much electricity into it as he could. With that he fried the collar and soon enough the bald man was free and turned on his handler giving Reno enough time to let his speed dissolve the rest of the sedative and let him escape.

Running as his life depended on it he raced out of town his body breaking down the more he ran. It took hours to flee but eventually he could go no more. His body ran on autopilot and seemed to subconsciously guide him. Unsure of where he was and a lack of energy to go on Reno made it to X-Mansion collapsing right outside the gates in a bloody and bruised heap his body finally broken to the point he was unable to continue. As he collapsed he saw someone a plump and curvy woman that he looked at eyes wide as he struggled. "Help...." he managed to pant out before darkness overtook him.

[amymaleneart]

"The Mail Service Trilogy."

Here's part three of the trilogy of @missterious-figure Wine and Feathers AU! Was going to do some sort of feather-care, but than I thought of something better. (*tiny evil laughter*)

Enjoy!

You walk down the long private hallway of the casino, trying your best to carry the oversized package addressed to Eclipse without dropping it.  Thankfully it’s not heavy, but it sure is a little cumbersome.  

You would have already opened the package to remove its contents, as it was a part of your job to screen everything that comes in for the stars.  Except the way your manager had pretty much busted into your office and tossed the package on your desk.  Then demanded you to take it to the “prissy oversized drama-king” right away, didn’t give you much of an opportunity to make sure it was safe.  Even though he did assure you that it is all safe and okay, he continues to yell and barates the most seeked after peacock about how he has been hounding him about this particular package.  Then he starts yelling at you about how the mailroom wasn’t doing their job and should have taken it to you in the first place, even though you have nothing to do with it.

It seems ever since you got promoted to becoming their main handler, the manager seems to take any opportunity to express his frustrations and anger out on you whenever they do something he doesn’t approve of.  Often when no one else is around.

You wipe away your incoming tears onto your shoulders as you try your best to shake off the underserved berating.  But there isn’t anything you can do to change that you guess.  As far as you know, there’s no one else higher than your boss besides the owner, and you know he doesn’t come here that often to be on any kind of name basis with you.  You also know that HR is friends with your boss, so best to just leave–“Omph!”

While lost in your thoughts, you failed to realize someone was in front of you as you collided into them.  Fortunately you didn’t drop the package, but instead started to fall backwards towards the ground.  You already accepted your fate of getting a nasty headache from hitting your head onto the ground.  Yet somehow you find you’re half suspended in the air as you feel then see a large bronze leather glove cradles the small of your back.  You follow up the well muscular arm until you are face to black and hot pink face of the giant peacock harpy known as Eclipse.

He purrs as his amber eyes drinks you up like you are his favorite cocktail.  “Careful now, my darling little gloaming star.  You could have hurt your precious self and then someone would need to take care of you.”  He leans in closer, “Although, I would be more than happy to take care of you anytime, my dear little handler.”

That’s when Eclipse notices how puffy and watery your eyes are, his demeanor changes from his overly flirtatious self to one of concern.  Of course you don’t notice this because you are still reeling in from being flustered.

“I-I-I…” you swallow, “I-I have a p-package for yoooooou!?” You nearly screech out the last word as he tosses you over his shoulder, like you were fresh kill, causing you to drop the large box.  “Eclipse!” You gasp as you try to hold onto his back without pulling at any of his orange feathers.  “Wha-what are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer as he bends down to pick up the box with his free hand, then continues down the hallway towards your original destination, his private dressing room.  

As you enter, you cry, “E-eclipse, please.  P-put me d-down.”

“In a moment, my sweet little honeysuckle.”  He tosses the package into his room as he turns around to shut and locks his door.  You’re not sure you like where this is going.  You know him to be the biggest flirt between the three of them, but you never thought he would outright kidnap you!  Next he flungs you off his shoulder into his open arms, holding you up high so you are face-level with his oranges, reds and pinks feather-framed face.  You found yourself squirming in his gentle embrace, having a hard time looking at his adorable face.

“Are you already?” he asks, his tenor-like voice entering into your soul like a pleasant evening breeze.

“I-I am f-fine,” you say, still refusing to look at him.  The last thing you want is for him to worry about you.

He hums as he continues to observe you.  You do recall that the name he had as a chick was “the watcher” and has developed these skills to the point you have no doubt he saw through your obvious lie.

“I-I was instructed by the manager to bring you this,” you say as you point at the package. “He…umm…said you really…(“Give that giant, overpriced feather duster his dumb package!  I am getting really sick and tired of his cocky attitude, thinking he owns the damn place.)…need it as soon as it arrives.”

Another hum leaves his mouth as his lips turn into a half-frown, like he smells a dirty rat.  He gently sets you down as if you were made of porcelain.  “I’m sorry, sweet thing.  If I had known he was going to give you such trouble, I would have practiced more patience if it would mean to save you from his wrath.”

You quickly look up at him, panic showing through your voice as you say, “No! No, it’s okay.  He didn’t do anything—” A gloved finger was placed on your lips, instantly silently you.  You stand there as you feel your face heat up in a bright blush that you’re surprised it doesn’t burn your skin.

Satisfy, Eclipse turns his attention to the partially battered package.  He picks it up to remove the tape to take out its contents.  He pulls out a large, rectangular piece of soft fabric that you quickly realized must be a king-sized blanket.  Your eyes widen as you see the bronze color shimmer against the lights in the room.  The large harpy takes two of the corners of the blanket into his hands to open up to reveal an amazing custom design of reds, hot pinks, blues, purples and bronze peacock feathers printed into the fabric.  It was almost like someone tried to take his tail feathers to enchant it into this blanket.

“I had asked the manager to help me order this.  Even used my own earnings though tips from the rich patrons to pay for this.  But it seems I should have gone to someone more…tolerable, for help.” 

Next thing you know, you are in complete darkness as Eclipse tosses the blanket on top of you.  Before you could say any sort of sound, you feel large hands grab and spin you around until you are tightly wrapped up into a comfortable human burrito.

Oh My Stars!  This is sooooo Soft!

Eclipse pulls down the blanket to reveal your star-struck face, causing him to laugh at how adorable you must look to him now.

“*hehehe* I knew you would look beautiful in my colors.”  Eclipse proceeds to pick you up, bridal-style, and walks over to his Mayan hammock he has hanging on one side of the room.  Carefully and elegantly, he turns and falls into the hanging breathable weave like he has done a million times before.  

“E-eclipse?  I-I really c-an’t–”

“Shhhhhhhhh.  Don’t worry.  You have enough time for a little break, my hardworking pheasant.”

He holds you close in his arms, ready to protect you from any danger that might come your way.

Part One: Done in an ask - Part Two: Over Here- Part Three: Here

[charlieisannoying]

A perfect case for my certain skillset

Part 1 | Next Chapter >

Platonic CF 99 X Jedi!GNReader Summary: Clone Force 99 is getting a Jedi, as if that could ever work out for the band of misfits. The worst thing? They're not even getting a General. First meetings will always go a little sideways, but the Force will right things in the end (Or so Hunter is told.) Word Count: 2,215

Hunter was tired.

He could feel a headache slowly blossoming under his skull, burrowing itself deeper and deeper, setting alight every nerve–

This was not the right moment for this. He had a mission to do.

It was simple, really.

They haven't been on the field that long anyways and they were a special case anyways. Their assignments, although they wrecked absolute havoc on the world around them were successes. They were still tasting the small bits of freedom between each missions, still overwhelmed with the fact that this was their life – the four of them against the world. While their... fondness over the regs was tested each and every time they came in contact with them, Commander Cody was a special case.

Even Crosshair was silent around that man, his snark nowhere to be found.

So when Commander Cody had commed him, letting him know that his pack, his own Clone Force 99, was supposed to get a handler... Well, Hunter was glad he wasn't alone when he received the news. He did not want to be the one to break the news to his brothers.

Still.

Getting a Jedi General was something even he was supposed to get used to.

It's not that he didn't want a superior officer or that he didn't like Jedi (although, truth to be told his experiences with other Jedi that Master Ti were rather... closer to 0 than any other number), but...

... he wanted to keep his brothers safe, close to himself and only himself. He heard through the ever evolving vod grape-vine that the Jedi were kind and understanding and they were all normal beings, not gods. His mind told him he was exaggerating, that it was in his very nature to protect his brothers...

But would his Jedi not only understand, but also listen to Tech's need to always fix something and explain and research? Will they leave Crosshair be and just exist in the presence of his brothers after a particular rough mission? Will they see how smart Wrecker is or will they just see his bulk and write him off.

Well. Clones were nothing if not adaptable.

'You don't have to be nervous about it.'

Cody's eyes were kind when he said it. They also seemed sad, but that couldn't possibly be true. Commanders knew how and when to say things. Commanders gave orders that no other clone could. Commanders swallowed their grief.

'I am not in the position to reveal anything but...' the Commander's nose flared and he bit on the inside of his cheek, as if searching for the right words. '...this assignment of the Jedi to your batch is more for the well being of themselves than a punishment to you boys.'

As if.

Look, Hunter could agree that their plans were wild, reckless and often enough sputtered into nothingness as soon as a mission started. But they accomplished their missions. They always were successful.

But siccing a Jedi on them?

This would never solve their... creative solutions for their already dangerous missions.

'When should we expect to report under our Jedi then, sir?' Tech's voice was crisp and perfectly measured, skilfully hiding how he felt in that moment from everybody. Well, everybody except Hunter. He could hear Tech's heartbeat skip in a pretty concerning way every so often and could start smelling his anxieties over the matter.

At that question, Cody allowed himself once grimace.

'That's your first job. Your Jedi Commander has... left our ship without telling us where they were going and we were called to aid the 501st.' What? Hunter's impending headache must have messed up his hearing, because why would a Jedi just... leave? Cody continued on, bringing Hunter back to the briefing. 'Their comm was last online in one of the lower levels of the city. It would be wise to check first some of the bars without attracting any unwanted attention.'

Lower levels? Bars? It seemed that all of his brothers were having the same reaction because they all had the what in Prime's tits is doing their Jedi in a bar face.

Something must have taken the Commanders attention away from them and their bewildered faces, because he didn't comment on their lack of response. Before he closed, he did wish them good luck, and that must have meant something, right?

By the sound of Tech's tapping on his data pad, Hunter was sure that every tidbit of information over their Jedi would be soon in their hands. He could always count on his brother's

'Wait, what did he mean by Jedi Commander?'

—

His headache was definetly getting worse.

This was the fifth? Or was it the sixth bar they searched? The vibrations of the bass and drums sent painful spikes from his skull down to his finger tips. This was promising some very painful next few days. And if they wouldn't find thei Jedi, his headache will become even worse and then Crosshair will see it, because of course the little shit was just as observant as his eyesight was perfect and–

'I just say we leave this damn Jedi find us instead. We're soldiers, not babysitters.'

Ah, kark it.

This was absolutely perfect. Now he also got Crosshairs snark to add of the things that were annoying him in that moment.

The lights were blinding him.

The music was getting louder and louder and he couldn't think, his brother's arm on his shoulder was like sand paper on his skin, although he had both his blacks and his armour on and why was the music so karking loud–

'You okay there buddy?'

If Hunter was at his peak he would notice that you were holding a fuzzy, colorful drink in your hands, the type that would come with small umbrellas and would wreck anyone in two gulps. Except he couldn't smell the alcohol. At all.

Your clothes seemingly resembled Jedi robes, the teal outer robes mixing with a tan tunic and brown pants. Small dots littered your sleeves, as if they were painstakingly embroidered, slowly combating the simpleness of normal Jedi apparel. Your hair was stuck to your forehead as if you'd been jumping the whole night and your eyes–

Maker, your eyes.

He could say that they were pretty because they were surrounded by blue glitter, and lined with black as if you were trying to capture everyone around you. You didn't break contact with him, as if trying to scan and read and see right through him, a small glint in your eyes indicating nothing but trouble.

But no.

Your eyes were sad. As if you knew something he didn't, as if you've lost and lost and lost, and you couldn't quite believe that you won't lose again. Hunter just wanted to bundle you up and take you far away from the war that just takes from beings.

Where were these thoughts coming from?

There was something else.

All he could focus was that the sounds were...gone. All those terrible sounds that were scratching the inside of his brain did not make him want to keel over and cover his ears.

He could still hear his brother's heartbeats, Tech's tapping, Crosshair grinding his teeth over another toothpick (where was he getting them??) and Wreckers fiddling with bits of an explosive.

Even those accursed lights seemed dimmed.

'You with me, Sarge?' Your brows were furrowed, as if you were trying to read him. And in the end, who even were you, why would you care–

Oh.

You were his Jedi. Were you the reason this place was more bearable now? Could the force even do that?

Wrecker snorted. Wait, why was Wrecker laughing?

That weird glint returned to your face, a small smile pulling over your lips. 'It's a Force Bubble. Helps me with my own migraines, and I though it would help you too.' You continued, the frown making an appearance once again. 'You were projecting your pain quite...hm...strongly across the lower levels. And anyways, what is Clone Force 99 doing here? We were supposed to meet tomorrow.'

Did he say that out loud?

That admittedly subdued headache was going to be the end of him.

'Technically, it is tomorrow.' Tech's voice was a bit harsh, not like his usual calm and calculated cadence. Were his brothers also starting to feel the simmering anger rising? They were out there, trying to find them, and... what? Their Jedi thought that giving Hunter a small respite would fix everything?

Before his thoughts could spiral even further, you had the decency to look... not ashamed, but guilty.

'Ah, my apologies then. I just wanted to...' You mulled over your words, trying to find the perfect one. You seemed to do that a lot, as if being able to choose your own words was something new, something not yet experienced. '...well, just be a Jedi for one more night and not a Commander.' You're eyes crinkled slightly as you smiled, as if laughing at a joke.

Hunter wasn't aware Jedi's sense of humour was so subtle. In fact, he heard quite the opposite from various other Commanders. Returning his attention back to you, you seemed to be already thinking about something else. Your face was already angled towards the back of the bar, where a small raised platform was created. A guitar was nestled against a box pretending to be a stool. A microphone completed the set, as if beaconing courageous drunks to sing something.

It seemed not only Hunter noticed your divided attention.

'Something else you've got to do, Jedi?' Kark Crosshair and his big mouth. Hunter was not in the mood to fight a decommission report to save his dear, dear brother. His headache was threatening to become a migraine once again.

This seemed to catch your attention once again. Shoulders pulled back, the blue robes did not seem to swallow you anymore. A small quirk of your eyebrow betrayed your amusement.

'You've crashed my set, actually. You guys are not exactly low profile.' Set? Did you sing? Is that your drink was all for show? All sadness was gone for a moment from your eyes, a fierce glint taking its place. 'I'm sorry you're tired and cranky... Crosshair, is it? So why don't you get a nice little drink from the bar and enjoy the show, yes?' Paired with a sweet little smile, you took your leave towards the makeshift stage, blue robes trailing like a blaze behind you.

This did not feel like getting a handler anymore.

This was going to get much, much worse.

—

Despite his worse fears, no decommission request landed in Hunter's pile of folders or in his inbox. After the incident at the bar, Crosshair finally fell silent, which meant that Hunter was free to fall into blissful sleep in their barracks. They did not stay to see you perform, much to Wrecker's dismay, but he was sure Tech already sliced through the bars shoddy footage, only to satisfy his curiosity, if nothing else.

You took the closed quarters of the Marauder in stride, your face betraying nothing. Your heartbeat though...? Well, that told Hunter everything he needed.

It seemed that not only Clone Force 99 was anxious about this change.

'Anything I should steer clear off?' You're eyes were still darting around, as if you were taking it all in. Your question though, it warmed Hunter somehow. He knew viewed clones as people, but other nat-borns had other ideas, that were not nicely viewed in the GAR.

'Our lives?'

Even with his back turned around the momentarily least favourite brother, he could feel Crosshairs sneer.

Before even taking a breath to reprimand Crosshair again in less that 24 hours, Wreckers boisterous voice bounced against the ship's walls.

'HA, as if you could beat a Jedi, Cross.' Wrecker's huge form seemed to eclipse you for just a moment, before draping an arm around your shoulders. You seemed to dip a bit, before finding your footing and righting yourself again, without shrugging Wrecker off. This seemed to encourage Wrecker, as he quickly continued, a sharp grin forming on his face.

'Technically, don't touch anything of Crosshair's. Don't mess up my workspace.' Tech's eyes were glued to his data pad, but his finger was pointing to various parts of the ship.

Thank you, Tech and your perfect interruptions.

You're impassive face was slowly breaking apart, your cheeks twitching slightly. Even your heartbeat seemed to slow down, and you even seemed to lean more and more into Wrecker, as if you were leeching his body heat. You risked a glance towards Hunter, but quickly looked away when you noticed him analysing you.

He wondered if you were going to burst from trying to keep in your laugh.

'You can always take Lula!' Reaching towards his bunk, Wrecker dragged you along a bit, without realising that you were still somewhat trapped underneath his arm. He offered you the tooka doll, and Hunter really hoped this was not the moment Wrecker will get heartbroken from your response.

A genuine smile lighted up your face instead.

'Thank you.'

If it weren't for the proximity alarm going off in the cockpit, Hunter was sure of there was more to be said.

For now, they all had one job.

Complete the mission.

Next Chapter >

[st0rmyskies]

I spent the day sweating my ass off at a smaller hometown theme park, so here's a list of how the boys enjoy their day trip to a fun park.

Twilight - He’ll go on any ride with anyone no matter how fast or scary, nor how slow or mundane. Although the teacups and other rides that spin you a lot tend to make him dizzy, and he's not a big fan of the haunted house. But our big soft-hearted country boy is partial to the antique carousel and needs to go on it just once. Come on, guys, anybody…? (Spoiler: They all go on it with him.)

Wild - It’s a wonder he’s going to survive any of the rides because this boy is all about the food. Funnel cake? Candy floss?? Potato pancakes??? Fudge????? Dippin’ Dots!!????!?!? He has his hands full of treats while they’re waiting in every line, and on any ride he can sneak them on to successfully, too. His favorite ride is the music-coaster-thing, and he’ll sing along at the top of his voice to every damn song.

Champion - Not too thrilled by rides, but he will go on them to be a sport. Except those rides with a sheer drop, tower-of-terror style. NO fucking thanks. Where he really slays, though, are the shooting games, with special bonus points if one of the other boys challenges him to a round. You bet your ass Champion is casually lugging around a stuffed Wolfie half the size of his body for most of the day.

Legend - He’ll get on some of the coasters and the crazier rides, but not all of them. He’s not a big fan of screaming his head off all day long, gives him a headache. He gets uppity with the fortune telling machine giving him the same negative reading over and over again no matter how many quarters he jams in the damn thing. And his fortune ends up coming true, too: he gets banned from the bumper cars after a vulgar road-rage incident.

Hyrule - Goes on one, maybe two coasters, and promptly pukes. He’s then the designated Bag Handler for the rest of the day. Which actually works out well, all up until the mid-afternoon when he wanders off to find himself some coffee and promptly gets lost, necessitating a rather embarrassing announcement over the PA system.

Warriors - He stressed out about his outfit for two weeks beforehand and STILL managed to choose the wrong thing to wear. Yes, those linen pants with the front crease are supposed to be breezy, Wars, but they’re meant for something like a wedding, not a fucking amusement park. He gets cranky when he’s too fucking hot and his hair is damp against the back of his neck. Eventually, one of the other boys — probably Legend or Sky — has to shoo him away from the group for a bit. When they turn up 20 minutes later Wars has an icy drink, a pair of novelty swim trunks from the souvenir shop, a headband for his hair, and a brand new “fuck it, we ball” attitude.

Sky - Loves all the roller coasters, LOVES THEM, and gets sad if he doesn’t get to sit in the front seat on every single one. He wants to go on the biggest, tallest, fastest, most OSHA-violating coaster no less than three times, and he’ll hop off of it just to turn around and get right back in line. Least likely to remember to hydrate and reapply sunscreen. You know he’s passed the fuck out that entire drive home. 

Four - He quite enjoys observing the inner workings of the mechanics that go along with the rides, then makes ominous comments about the engineering to his seat-mate as they’re being hauled up the incline for that first drop of a coaster. He also spends an inordinate amount of time in the air conditioned arcade winning as many tickets as he can to obtain some silly prize like an obscure toy from the 80’s or something similar. May not be tall enough to ride every ride.

Wind - Water rides are his JAM. His hair and clothes and shoes are soaked through well before halfway through their day, and he gets the cutest waves in his hair because of it. Although he also smells like chlorine all day, then. Also has way too much ice cream and cold treats during the day, so he’s nursing a hell of a stomach ache on the drive home.

Time - Bet you thought he wouldn’t be in attendance or would wait in the car or some shit, didn’t you? Time allows the boys to cajole him onto every coaster, every water ride, the carousel, into the haunted house, you name it. He’ll sit in the first row of the rides that take your photo, too, and he just. Deadpans it. Zero facial reaction, no screaming on coasters, ALL day. Flawless commitment to the bit. He does secretly enjoy all of this; Time didn’t get to do this sort of stuff when he was their age, so better late than never.

[blueorchid-95]

“Huh?” Blue hums, clearly caught off guard. Her fingers tighten around the old scar. “Y-yeah. Just… a headache. It’ll fade with time.” She’s never been good at lying to Shadow, of all people. It was easy to deceive everyone else—it had even been easy to lie to him.

(“It’ll be all right,” she’d said in that elevator, moments before the fall. “You and I will always be together.”)

She shakes her head a bit to clear the thoughts. She needs to be focused on the here and now. Her agent needs her. “Next time I head out to the vending machine, I’ll buy us both Coca-Colas. How’s that?”

Paper Relations

Shadow sat in her bed next to her handler, who was asleep at the moment, had been for a while. She'd inclined her bed to sit up, used all her spare paper to make paper airplanes, which were now on the floor and out of her reach, and she was bored. Kai was still recovering, her handler was asleep, and all she had left was a stack of paper to consent to group physical therapy.

Kai had requested to be in the same session at her, which she was happy about. She was overjoyed that he seemed like his normal self again and that she could finally spend time with her brother again. After all these years, it was exactly what she wanted. But if they were the case, then why did she have a sinking feeling in her stomach? The feeling that she was missing or overlooking something that would seem obvious later.

She wanted to trust him, wanted so desperately to believe that he was back just the way she remembered him. But... Things changed. She knew that well, and sometimes it was for the better, but oftentimes, especially in situations like his, there were secrets hiding within every crevice, waiting until you let your guard turn to rear their ugly head. She knew she couldn't wait until everything was figured out to trust people again, but... What if it ended until hurting more than just her?

She shook herself out of her thoughts, not wanting to go down that path, and picked up the stack of papers and a pen, and sighed heavily. "paperwork" she muttered under her breath, resigned, distracting herself from her current dilemma with her disdain for such mundanities.

Though she couldn't avoid it for long, and eventually, after dawdling on things for longer than she could bear, decided to judge her handler awake, she'd gotten enough sleep, right?

"Blue," she whispered, trying to be gentle, "hey Blue, I need to talk to you about something..."

@blueorchid-95

[jinuaei]

Yandere!Siren Hybrid!Roach x Reader

OFC I can't make a random ass idea without making it a Yandere x reader LMAO Edit: edited to make it gender neutral :D

Inspired by Bluegiragi's Monster au

Warning: As always 18+ MDNI, Its yandere sweetheart, dub-con, somnophilia, hypnotization, being brainwashed ish? NSFW under the cut

Word count: 870

As the new rookie of 141, you've become somewhat of a precious little member of the team. Considering that you're the only human amidst the big burly hybrid men, it's no wonder they treat you like you're fragile, because lets be honest you'd probably die within seconds if you go against one of them. With that, Captain Price chose a less intimidating member to be your handler, which you're actually glad about since the others are too much for you, well, other than Gaz. Soap is too energetic and rowdy and is always trying to rub up on you. Ghost scares you as well as Konig, they keep glaring at you as if you murdered their dogs. Horangi's eyes-- well, sunglasses keeps following you, but his tail, standing up and all, whips about aggressively so you'd rather not become the tigers next meal. Although Gaz is nice, and never did anything to make you nervous.

Your handler is not as intimidating as you thought, considering his other teammates are. Gary Sanderson is his name, codename Roach as introduced by your Captain. You were curious why he didn't introduce himself instead of Price but you were informed that he cannot speak, which you were understanding of at first but then became awkward as soon as Price leaves because this man is just standing there, staring at you while you try to catch his attention, which eventually worked after a few minutes of waving in front of his face. But oh, if you could only see his expression the moment he saw you, would you have ever thought that your first friend would be such a pervert?

Even with the lack of communication you hit it off pretty quickly. At first he had to use pen and paper to talk to you, but when you expressed how you wanted to learn sign language he was pretty excited, as evident by his shaking and tight grip on your hand. So within a month, you learned enough to have a basic conversation with him. He's always so kind when you do it correctly, patting your head, nodding in pride, or caressing your cheek if he's bold enough. You thought nothing of it other than friendly touches.

But then you started to become more and more tired as the days pass, every morning you would have a pounding headache and sometimes your body also hurts but you thought it was the lack of sleep or the rigorous training the day before. However, red marks start to appear on your body, at first on your arm, but it quickly spread to your chest and more specifically, your neck. You told your concerns to Roach but he would only sign to you that it must be bed bugs, or mosquitoes. So as the kind friend he is, he offered his room and bed for you to sleep in while maintenance cleans out your room.

That night, you lay in his bed, yawning a goodnight as you start to pass out. Humming is heard before your body becomes relaxed and pliant, you're confused, trying to pin point where the noise is coming from but your thoughts are muddled, all except one, submit to me. Submit to who...?

You try to open your eyes but your vision is blurred. The bed squeaks and you feel weight bend the mattress close to your right thigh, and another on opposite side. The humming becomes louder when this happened, as if the noise is now on top of you.

"Relax..." The voice says, scratchy but soft, and against your wishes your body turns to mush, compliant to the man above you.

You can feel the vibrations when he kisses you, you can feel it when he nips at your neck, and you can feel it when his tongue licks at your wet opening. Every time he stops humming your mind becomes clearer, but then you get pulled under again as he whispers commands in your ear. Remove your clothes, open your legs, submit to me. Submit to him, submit to Roach.

Soon the humming turns into moans and whimpers, your body jerking in pleasure when you feel something hot and thick enter you. Roach moaning your name makes you quiver so deliciously, his voice and body making your mind blank. Not even noticing that your drooling now, eyes rolled back, whimpers and 'please please please' coming out of your mouth like a prayer. Finally the crescendo abruptly stops into a wet climax, and the siren falls next to you, still muttering your name.

Without him speaking, your mind clears enough to realize what happened and see the mess that you both are. Bites and marks litter around your neck and torso as a sheen is covering it, as if he was drooling as he tasted you. Warmth is oozing out of your abused hole and you gasp in horror when you registered that it was cum that was coming out of you. That gasp jerked him awake and he's pinning you down with his body, his mouth close to your ear as he hushes and consoles you.

"It's okay... you wanted it didn't you? Yes you did... now go to sleep darling."

[themultifandomgal]

Kelly Severide- A New Baby Pt1

I never thought I'd get married and have kids. I just didn't think that I would ever find a man I'd consider having that kind of life with, but when Kelly Severide stepped into my life everything change. We didn't meet in the best of way. He's a fireman and I'm a police dog handler. There had been a bombing and they asked me to send my search and rescue dogs in. I fell for the guy there and then.

5 years on and we are married and have a beautiful daughter who's just turned 3 named Harper.

Today I woke up feeling off. Headache and nausea on and off. I have today off from work which is fantastic, but also my daughter is here and as much as I love her she can be an absolute nightmare

"Harper can you pick your toys up please"

"No thank you mommy" at least she's using her manners right?

"Harper. Daddy won't be happy when he comes home"

"Daddy loves me so he won't shout" Harper shrugs and she's right. She's a daddy's girl and she has him wrapped round her little finger. I'm always the bad guy and that's fine this is our dynamic, but sometimes it would be good to get a little help off him

"Right come on pick the toys up before someone hurts themselves"

"But I'm playing with them mommy"

"Harper I'm not feeling very well so please pick up your toys. I'll help, but your not getting anything else out until these toys are put away"

"Fine" Harper shouts and I rub my head as a headache begins again.

Once all the toys have been picked up I sit down on the couch and close my eyes for a moment

"Mommy?"

"Yes princess?" I open one eye to look at her

"When's dinner?"

"When daddy gets home"

"When's that?"

"Soon" I reply "I'm going to take a nap. You know the rules"

"Don't unlock the door and daddy has a key to get in. Can I play upstairs?"

"Yes, but don't run"

Before I know it I'm being woken up by Kelly's voice and touch. I open my eyes and see Kelly smiling at me

"When did you get home?" I yawn

"Just. How long have you been asleep?"

"Not long" I reply glancing at the clock "how was work today?"

"The usual, how was Harper?"

"Giving me hell"

"You made any supper?"

"No not yet" I shake my head

"I'll order us some food instead. What do you fancy?"

"To be honest Kel, I don't feel to good. Think I might be coming down with something. Just order yourself and Harper something"

"You need to eat. Even if it's just some rice or something"

"Ok" I give in to Kelly. 

Once our food has arrived we all sat down together. I take small bites of food and small sips of water

"So Harper. Have you been a good girl for mommy today?" Kelly asks. Harper lowers her head a little

"I wasn't naughty and mommy has been lazy today"

"Mommy said she isn't feeling very well so you need to be a big girl and help her"

"But..."

"No buts. Now eat your food and then it's bath then bed time"

"Fine" Harper pouts and takes her time eating her tea trying to make her bedtime later.

Once the Harper is in bed me and Kelly curl up on the sofa together watching TV. I swallow feeling more and more nauseous until I can't keep it down any more and the urge to throw up over comes me. I jump off the couch and run to the downstairs bathroom, Kelly following behind me.

Once I finish throwing up Kel and I head upstairs to bed

"You feeling any better?" Kelly asks as I change into one of his shirts

"Yeah. The nauseas gone now. Im just super tired. I've had a headache all day so its probably that that's made me sick"

"Maybe your pregnant" Kelly says. I roll my eyes at him

"I'm not pregnant"

"Are you sure because we're not very carful" Kelly states and to be fair he's got a point "you've been tired all week. We said if you were to get pregnant we'd be happy"

"Of course I would be, but had my period 2 weeks ago"

"Could be 2 weeks pregnant"

"Kel I'm not pregnant" I sigh getting into bed

"This is exactly what you were like with Harper"

"If it makes you feel any better I'll take a test tomorrow"

"Ok" Kelly kisses the top of my head and then wraps his arm around my waist and we both fall asleep.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Headaches Split My Skull, Stop Talking

So this is just a little continuation of the first part of the monster hybrid story. König is a nightmare to write introductions for because he cannot introduce himself well for the life of him. It really doesn't help that he's always terribly rude with introductions. Unless he's actively chosen reader, he's always so mean when he's first introduced! I need to spray him with a water bottle.

TWs: Eating food

Wordcount: 1.5k

Art from This Post

Story below the cut

Headaches Split My Skull, Stop Talking

You stood beside Lieutenant General Haus, the same man who’d given you König’s files earlier. You glanced up at the older man, brushing his moustache with one hand while watching the numbers tick by above. You watched the countdown with him until you hit the desired floor.

You followed Lt-Gen Haus down the pristine hallway to a room with a red door. Stepping through, you were cowed by the man you saw.

Half jotunn was never more apparent. The man was a giant of a man, easily eight feet tall while still crouching. He was big, burly and powerful as he stared deep into your soul.

“Cnl. Leichenberg! So good to see you,” Haus’s voice boomed in the cramped room.

“Lieutenant General Haus,” the man nodded from beneath his massive hood.

“I’m here to introduce you to your new handler today,” the lieutenant general took a seat across from your new charge. He was completely at ease in the giant man’s presence, unlike you. You didn’t even hear your name being said until the general turned to look at you.

“Yes sir?” you asked meekly.

“I was asking if you’re willing to sign,” the general pointed at the paper and pen set out in front of you.

“Of course sir,” you replied, quickly picking up the pen and jotting down your name.

“Cnl. Liechengerg? Will you please sign the contract?” Haus turned the page with the pen expertly.

The man nodded and jotted down his name with an aggressive flick of his massive hand, nearly breaking the fountain pen in the process. The lieutenant general waved the paper twice before tucking it back into his manilla folder with a smile.

“Well, I know that normally you have a rather busy schedule, but both your schedules have been cleared for the next hour,” Haus looked at both of you with his warm blue eyes, “I’m sure you’re both experienced enough, but we still encourage you to take the time to get to know each other a bit better. After all,” he turned to you, “your duties as handler extend beyond your monster’s normal schedule. You are expected to attend to each of Cnl. Liechenberg’s needs. And Cnl. Liechenberg,” he turned to address the giant man, “I know you've heard it before, but it needs to be emphasized that you’re expected to ensure the safety of your handler, both on and off the field. Now,” Haus drummed his fingers on the table, “I’m expecting you to be back for training with Cnl. Liechenberg this evening, but I think we’ve covered all the necessary bases?”

Seeing no disagreements, the lieutenant general dismissed the two of you to leave you to your own devices. You wished he’d stay, as the man terrified you.

You’d never been afraid of a hybrid before, not like this. Normally, if you feared a hybrid it was due to the monstrous form they took during training. You’d never dealt with a hybrid of such a high rank before, and you’d never before cowered in your monster’s presence. Cnl. Liechenberg was a different sort of creature altogether.

“So, um, do you wanna join me for a coffee?” you offered politely.

“I hate coffee,” his voice was pitchy and scratched on your ears.

“Oh, um,” you thought for a moment, “how about lunch? Not at the canteen, but at that little cafe nearby? You know, not the one in the fort but out on the base?”

The man glared down at you with ice-cold blue eyes, a sharp contrast to Lt.-Gen Haus. Without being able to see his face, all you could think about was how the man looked like he wanted to crush you to dust in his palm.

“Okay.”

You found your way to the small cafe. There, you met up with König outside and tried to hold a one-sided conversation before you gave up and followed him inside. As soon as the barista looked up and saw you both, you felt a sudden surge of dread.

“König? What’re you doing here?” the woman leaned against the counter in the empty store.

The man gave no reply. If nothing else, at least he wasn’t singling you out with his cold reception.

Instead of greeting the woman, he stood beneath the counter and looked up.

“I want…” he thumbed at what was probably his chin under that hood, “a mediterranean wrap, a grilled cheese panini, two cups of americano with a side of cream, and a slice of carrot cake.”

The woman sighed, “Do you want the soup with that?”

“Yes.”

“Why do I ask,” you heard the poor woman mutter as Cnl. Liechenberg strode off to sit at his table of choice, leaving you to stand with the barista.

“You deal with him often?” you asked nervously.

The woman flicked her dark ponytail over her shoulder as she faced you, “Who, König? Not really.”

“You sounded like you knew him,” you commented lightly before leaning in close, “look, I’m his new handler. Can you give me any pointers? I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall here.”

“Oh don’t even bother trying with him,” the woman waved a tanned hand at you, “there’s no way you’re getting through with him. He’s just… König.”

You nodded carefully, then gave your order and joined Cnl. Liechenberg at his table.

“So,” you slid into the seat across from him, “Cnl. Liechenberg-”

“König.”

You paused and looked up at the man, “König?”

“Call me König,” a pause, “everyone does.”

“Alright, so, König! You come here often?” you chirped.

The man shook his head curtly.

“Really! The barista seemed to know you, at least,” you chuckled, “must be nice being a regular, right?”

König wasn’t paying you any attention. He was fully absorbed by what the barista was making.

You looked out the window beside you, “Looks like you chose a nice spot here. You can even see the duck pond from here!”

König nodded absentmindedly.

“Do you ever go to look at the ducks?” you asked, “they’re pretty cute. Oh, you know that a few of the ducks had babies, right? If you want, when we’re finished here we can go check it out if we still have time.”

König barely reacted, if at all. Was he even breathing? You’d have to check his file again about that…

“Sometimes I like to go and check on the ducks when I have a chance. I don’t have a lot of time, but it’s a nice break from life on base,” you could hear yourself babbling on listlessly but you couldnt' stop yourself, “there’s usually a bunch of people in the park, but if you go just about an hour before the sunset you can get some time to sit down on a bench and think. I sometimes take a few peas with me if they’re served for dinner, but never bread. You know you’re not supposed to feed ducks bread, right? It’s not good for them! It’s better to give them cut up veggies or something.”

König didn’t say a word. He didn’t even give you so much as a glance to acknowledge you as you went on your spiel. A part of you couldn't’ believe how incredibly rude König was.

“There’s also a pair of swans, if you’re interested…” you trailed off.

Nothing you were saying was getting through to this guy.

“Do you know if our schedules will be synced up?” you asked, “so we can go and see the ducks together.”

König finally reacted by giving you a half hearted shrug.

“Are you sure? With my other hybrids I’ve always been synced, but I dunno if it’s gonna be the same way with you. Was it like that with your other handlers?” you asked.

König gave you a small nod.

“Oh great! So when we get our schedules next we should be synced up! That means we can go to the duck pond together!”

König was less than disinterested.

You sighed and sat back in your chair. It was only day one and you were already tired of trying. It was like he was going out of his way to refuse and and all attempts to communicate. How the hell did any of his handlers talk to him before? You could only imagine how somebody helped him.

“Alright, here you guys go,” the barista came with a tray to set down your plates in front of you. You noted that König’s share of the table was quickly overtaken as his meals spread onto your side of the table. You thanked the barista, noting how König barely even acknowledged her presence.

The way König acted as though he was better than everyone around him set you on edge. By technicalities, you were his superior, and yet he didn’t bother listening to you once. A part of you wanted to pull the rank card, but you’d hate for the relationship to start on such a sour note. Another part of you was furious. No other hybrid you dealt with had ever pushed you this far this quickly. Then again, you’d never dealt with a hybrid of this rank before. It was maddening how he refused any sort of interaction.

“Looks good,” you commented as König picked up his wrap.

König nodded and took a bite. He chewed quietly and set the wrap back down.

You set to work on your own meal, small in comparison to König’s smorgasbord. You picked away at it, antsy with how you’d be dealing with König.

You took a bite and smiled, “I’m glad we came here. I forgot how good the food is here.”

König nodded silently.

You sighed. This would be a long contract, wouldn’t it?

Alternate Universe Stories

Konig Dump