#yandere 2bdamned

[nevadancitizen]

-> FASCINATION WITH THE ORDINARY

synopsis: your world is vastly different from the nevada native to madness combat. after the main three + 2bdamned get transported to your world, they each find things that fascinate them.

word count: 2.5k

characters: hank, deimos, sanford, 2bdamned, player! reader

trigger warnings: ehh slight yandere/obsession but could also be read as super heavy pining if you're not into that lol

notes: madness combat fandom arise. madness combat fandom come back to me (also set in @/saltymongoose 's self-aware au)

For the sake of consistency, let’s imagine that the Player lives in a big, lonely, woodsy and plain-sy plot of land. There’s little to no outside human interaction, and lots of animals wandering through the area with a river running through it. For the wildlife, I’m basing it on the American South because I’ve lived here my entire life and know how they act.

SUNSETS & SUNRISES

2BDamned would be the most entranced, since he has the most memories from before the fall and before Hank killed the sun. He’s an early riser by nature (since his body has conditioned him so he’s mostly overworked and under-rested, as unhealthy as it is), so he leans more towards the beauty of a sunrise, towards the light that starts to paint the dark sky with hazy orange shades and rosy hues. He likes breathing in the crisp air and the way it almost sends a shock through his lungs.

But the sun stirs a lingering feeling of nostalgia, though, for the way things were before everything fell to madness. Doc tries his best not to let the thoughts get the better of him as you slip through the front door and out onto the front porch, carrying two steaming cups of coffee. 

God, he could imagine staying like this forever: just you, him, a beautiful sunrise, and coffee. Surely the way you pay attention to him, the way you get up extra early to watch the sunrise, the way you doctor his coffee just right – they’re all examples of how you care for him, just as he cares for you. But for now, he’ll just bide his time, blowing the steam off the surface of his coffee and purring, soft and raspy, both at the taste and because of your company.

But that doesn’t stop the others from appreciating the astounding view at dusk, because Sanford and Deimos are more partial to sunsets after long days. They like lounging in the adirondack chairs set up around the fire pit, cracking open a few beers, and simply relaxing with you. (Don’t worry, Sanford will gather firewood and Deimos will set it alight if it’s a little too cold for your taste.)

They’re fresher clones, so they don’t remember the sun well, if at all. They both always go quiet when the sun starts to dip below the horizon. Sanford props his tea sunglasses on top of his head and Deimos sets his cigarette in the ashtray as they both stare at the way the light turns the clouds purple and paints the sky with pink streaks. It stirs something sad in your heart – both of these men are pushing and just over the cusp of thirty, yet they don’t know the simple sweetness of a sunset. 

But as soon as night overtakes the sky, they both turn their attention back to you. Deimos makes some suave comment about your beauty being nothing in the face of a sunset in that rumbling, smooth voice of his, and Sanford gives him a pointed glare. Sanford points out that your beauty and the beauty of nature are two whole different things, but keeps showering you with not-so-inadvertent compliments, leaving you flustered and blushing from both grunt’s words.

Hank is somewhat of an anomaly with this one. All of the grunt’s biological clocks are absolutely porked from their time without a sun, but Hank’s affected the worst by far. (That, and he doesn’t really care for the sun. He literally slaughtered it.) Therefore, he’s more privy to waking up in the middle of the night and dragging you onto the roof to look at the stars. 

He likes laying on his back with you on his chest, pointing out the brightest stars and asking you questions about them. (He doesn’t really care, he just likes hearing your voice.) He loves your vivid descriptions of the constellations and how you describe them in intricate ways. To Hank, they’re just sparkly, unreachable dots in the sky, but it seems like, to you, they’re beautiful: like millions of silver nails driven into a dome of dark blue velvet. 

He savors the moments like these the most, when you’re alone with him. There’s no sound except for the crickets and dog-day cicadas and spring peepers and your voice and Hank’s sputtering purring. Honestly, it’s as it should be – without those other pesky dipshits ruining your time together. (Well, he can tolerate Doc, but that annoying extraction team could go fuck themselves for all he cared.)

ENTERTAINMENT

Sanford hates being lazy. He hates feeling like he’s not doing anything useful, even if he’s being useful by resting. The only real way to make him sit down and stop moving is by trapping him on the couch, laying your head in his lap, and turning on the TV. (Even if, for the first thirty minutes, he’s too focused on you and your body heat and how fast his heart is beating to even consider looking at the TV.)

But the thing he loves watching the most isn’t any sort of movie with amazing cinematography or show with riveting writing – it’s infomercials. Specifically, infomercials from the 90’s to the late 2000’s. He likes seeing what things could’ve been like if there was no madness in Nevada, because things are oddly peaceful (at least, to him) in your world. Billy Mays and Cathy Mitchell make him wonder about domestic life with you (even if the Jupiter Jack and the Xpress Redi-Set-Go are completely obsolete by now), and how these little gadgets would make your life together supposedly go smoother.

He likes combing his claws carefully through your hair as you both watch these people play up how useful these obviously useless inventions are. He tries to avert his eyes and act interested in the TV as you look up at him and point out how the Red Devil Grill was recalled because it got so hot it collapsed and caused fires, but can’t. He just can’t keep his eyes off you when you look up at him so sweetly, and can you blame him? You just make his face so warm and his heart beat so fucking fast…

Deimos has always had a fascination with electronics, but it’s mostly been from a tactical and weaponized standpoint. But he’s discovered (well, really, you introduced him to) video games. He absolutely loves curling up into your side, purring and providing commentary as he watches you play. (Because, despite his trying, he hasn’t really gotten a hang of the controls yet.)

He loves more story-fueled games with characters he can really get attached to. He likes investing himself in things and people that don’t actually affect him, because seeing your favorite character go through dire straits or even die hurts for a little while, but it’s nothing compared to seeing someone get eviscerated right in front of you. And, yeah, he totally cried when Arthur Morgan died (and totally played it up so that you’d comfort him). 

He also likes draping himself over you in the middle of a boss fight, wriggling and nuzzling into your cheek, causing you to giggle, lose focus, and, obviously, die. He strings together half-hearted apologies through his raspy purring, but he’s not really sorry. More deaths means more time spent with him, and internally, he’s completely and honestly unapologetic for his underhanded tactics. 

Due to the nature of his administrative role, Doc spends a lot of time in front of screens. He likes to unplug and unwind by reading, no doubt with a straight-up hazardous amount of coffee by his side. He prefers reading with you with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, whether you’re also reading or working on something else. Though he’s inexperienced (and sometimes even shy) with these types of things, he’s more than happy to ease into affectionate touches and romance that kills his common sense with you. 

His tastes are often cheap, but when he earns enough dough, he likes to splurge on second-hand college anatomy textbooks. No, he’s not planning on going to university, but he wants to know the inner workings of the human system (and, therefore, the inner workings of you). He also likes speculative biology and seeing what humans think about other intelligent species potentially being out there.

He would absolutely be elated (though he tries his best to hide it) if you took his interests seriously and discussed them with him. He tries to keep you in his makeshift office and away from the others so you can continue to spend this precious alone time with him, but that doesn’t stop the red-hot flare of jealousy as one of the others bursts in with a childish ask about something that should be obvious. (Of fucking course you wouldn’t want to go for a walk, Deimos, have you seen the weather out? Leave you and him alone!)

Obviously Hank would love gorefest and splatter film movies because of his all-encompassing and absolute love for carnage, and he’d love them even more if you got scared and hid yourself in his shoulder or chest. It’s clear that he’s your strongest and most capable vessel, so he clearly agrees with your choice to choose him as your protector (even if that choice is based on an instinctive need to hide). 

He also loves WWE and MMA fighting. When given the choice, he opts for MMA because it’s real and bloody and he prefers seeing people push themselves to their absolute limit rather than some predetermined fight that serves a higher storyline. (But, then again, he really likes the clip of Undertaker breaking into Paul Bearer’s house during an interview and throwing a cabinet at him because, what the fuck? He’s never thought of that before! Using things from the environment when out of weapons instead of his fists could be an improvement. Maybe he can learn a thing or two from these fake fighters…)

And, yes, if you give him access to Twitter he will turn your entire timeline into those backyard fight videos and dashcam car crashes. He doesn’t mean to, it just happens.

ANIMALS

Being a natural night owl, Deimos loves keeping a lookout for what critters come out at night. When he’s on the front porch with you, smoking a cigarette and waving away mosquitoes, he makes sure to keep an eye out for weird and unusual wildlife. (While pressed against your side and purring loudly, no doubt.)

He likes watching the whip-poor-wills swoop down and catch the moths that swarm around the overhead porch lights. Yes, he will try to catch one, but backs off when you tell him to. Instead, he opts for digging in the dirt to find beetles and grubs to toss up in the air for the small birds to catch. He will kinda feel bad if the beetles hit the ground but will continue to throw them to the birds when you tell him insects are basically immune to fall damage, so… no harm, no foul.

He’s also absolutely enamored by raccoons. He likes throwing food to them from the safety of the porch and watching them eat with their little grabby hands. He’s very reckless so, despite your warnings, he’ll try to squirrel one away inside the house. (He does this multiple times and, without fail, gets bitten each time. 2B has given him multiple rabies shots after shooing the raccoons out with a broom.)

Speaking of Doc, he enjoys going out in nature and finding decaying things just to see how many buzzards arrive. He excuses it with something about wanting to see if decomposition works the same across both your world and his, but he secretly finds some relation with the birds – something about being deliverers and arbiters and negators of death. (Though the last one really only applies to him.)

He also likes the rare sightings of wild horses. He’ll go out of his way to (carefully, shyly) rouse you from whatever you’re doing to go take a look at the majestic beasts, and he’ll be even more excited if there’s a foal wandering between the stocky legs of the adults. 

He just barely brushes his fingers against yours as you both stand on the edge of the treeline and watch them graze. Seeing the foal break from the herd, kick out and tumble and fall over and immediately get back up sparks… something in his heart. A vision. Just you, just him, linked pinkies, and a future together, with this warm feeling in his chest.

Hank really likes the more dangerous creatures. He gets along well with cottonmouth and other venomous snakes (and “gets along well” really means that they’re mean as can be and strike as often as possible while he just holds them and smiles at you). 

If you don’t keep a close enough eye on him, he’ll wander off and try to provoke larger animals, like bobcats. To him, they’re just tiny little pussycats, even if they pose a real threat and could kill him. Please don’t let him go too far, because if he comes across a bear, he will try to wrestle it, and Doc doesn’t like having to do emergency surgery on the island countertop in your kitchen. 

On multiple occasions, he’s come back to the house after being missing for hours, reeking of skunk spray. He just purrs happily as you tell him to strip and hold still as you spray him down with the hose.

Sanford is way calmer with his interactions with wildlife. He likes sitting on the dock with you and watching the fish swim by (because he’s impressed both by the fish and by the river – he’s never seen water in such great quantity!) Set him up with a hook, lure, and line and he’ll be entertained for hours. Though he struggles a bit with making streamers and fishing knots due to his big hands and claws, he’s more than patient when you teach him (mostly because he gets to spend time with you). 

When he’s fishing, he likes to look around and observe – mostly because fishing is a waiting game. His favorite visitors are herds of whitetail deer, especially when summer is in full swing and the fawns are ready to start exploring. They remind him of his family, mainly because of the way the does don’t really care which fawn is theirs, just that each is getting enough milk. You point at them and discuss them with him in small whispers because you don’t want to spook them. 

Again, it reminds him of his want for a domestic life with you. Just basking in the mottled sun that seeps through the trees, dipping your bare feet in the cool river water as a catfish tugs on the line – it’s all he wants, really. Now if he could just get the rest of the grunts to leave you alone… excluding Deimos, of course.

[saltymongoose]

ohh my goodness. i've been waiting to send these until requests were open bc i wanted to hear ur thoughts.

might be a little silly, but consider: matching outfits. player gathers clothing materials!! and coordinates outfits one day on missions!!!! even makes props!!! hijinks ensue. idk if this had already been disscussed before, but thank you for your time and consideration, ily. you are so cool <<3333!!!!!!! everything you make is so scrumptious!!!!! <33

Omg, thank you, this is so nice of you!!! :D ❤❤❤❤ I love this art so much, you have no idea - the way you portray the boys here fits so well (as always lol). And the memes too omg!! I can't even put it into words to be honest with you, these are just excellent. I do feel slightly bad for that random grunt though, something tells me they'll be sleeping with one eye open after seeing that lmao.

(Also, thank you so much for the compliments too of course, you're far too kind. (˶⸃ ⴰ⸃˶)♡ I could say the same to you btw; your art is always just *chef's kiss* perfection.)

Anyhow, I've actually thought a bit about this scenario before, but this just inspired me, so I wrote some short hcs for you. Hope you like them! <3:

The Player Matches Outfits with Them ft. The Main 3 + 2BDamned

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior)

- [2BDAMNED] -

2BDamned knew that you had been working on a little project - one that you tried to keep as secret as possible. He was curious, but not enough to encroach on whatever boundary you set regarding it. All he knew from your rather lackadaisical explanation was that he'd be very surprised when he saw. And, well, he was.

The first conscious thought in 2BDamned's head is the question of how you've managed to make a mask that looks so similar to his without borrowing the original. It's really spot on; the seams are in the exact same place, and even if yours has to have been configured differently to fit your more human facial features, the silhouette is exactly the same.

(In the end, he concludes that you simply must've studied his appearance for a while to truly replicate his mask, which makes him feel almost giddy in a way he might've deemed embarrassing before meeting you. But now he's just overcome with happiness that you were obviously interested enough in him to do this.)

He openly praises your skill in sewing, knowing that grunt clothing is ordinarily much too large for you. And you'd notice how the fondness he holds for you seeps into the words, his gaze lingering on you in a way that left you feeling warm.

If you could see underneath his own mask, you'd be able to see the smile he was unable to bite back as well, and the flush that he'd try to will away otherwise. And while he is incredibly impressed (and happy) at what you've managed to put together, he will mention that you could also borrow his actual things once in a while, if you feel so inclined. He just happens to think one of his own jackets might suit you too.

(Of course, he doesn't miss the chance to lean real close to adjust your mask as he says this either, just to fluster you even more. You really have no idea how cute you are, especially looking like this.)

- [DEIMOS] -

A full minute of unintelligible sputtering leaves Deimos' lips the moment he sees your new outfit, and you laugh at the way his face goes bright red. When you said you had a surprise, this was one of the last things he expected.

Luckily for him, he's able to quickly gather his composure, and his excited ramblings turn into smooth flirts that'll leave you blushing instead of him. Expect all sorts of comments about how cute you looked dressed up like him, and praises about how you look even better in his fit than he does.

He insists on taking a ton of pictures together, and you can bet he keeps his favorite in his wallet. (It's one of your faces smushed together as you both grin at the camera, making a heart with your hands.)

He considers this a total power-couple thing; matching shirts are so low-effort compared to this, if anything it shows you perfect you are together. Although there is one thing he'd help you change from your original DIY version of his outfit - those sheet-metal dog tags you made can't compare to the real thing in his opinion, so why don't you just use one of his instead?

Also, don't think he won't take advantage of the fact that you both are the only ones with headsets. Even if yours isn't functioning (because let's be honest, finding one in working condition would be difficult), he'll fix it up quickly just so he can talk more directly to you during missions. And whenever else he wants to, to the irritation of the other three.

- [SANFORD] -

Sanford would consider his outfit to be fairly standard, but he recognized that you were emulating him the moment you slid the sunglasses on. And he couldn't stop the goofy smile from splitting his face when he realized it either, not even attempting to hide his amusement at what you've done.

(He only gets visibly happier when you 'threateningly' brandish your wire hook in his direction. You really put a lot of thought into this, didn't you?)

While Sanford has the amount of restraint in him to not openly brag about you doing this, he can't deny the rush of satisfaction he gets from seeing you in what is an unmistakable homage to him. If you look closely, you'll see him straighten up in pride whenever you come into view. (It's almost like preening, really. If he weren't so flushed, perhaps you'd think it to be more of an ego thing, but no.)

Although, he does show a little bit more concern about some aspects of your outfit. Like your boots, for example; he can't count the number of times he's gotten blisters while breaking in his own, so you should expect him to ask you if you need any plasters (or help bandaging yourself as well).

(If you decide to accept his offer, you'll find yourself questioning whether he ever officially trained as a medic before. He surely has the gentleness befitting of one, shown in how he carefully cleans your wounds and softly applies the ointment, his calloused fingers gently smoothing over the plasters on your Achilles heels afterward. Although you have the slightest suspicion that this tenderness from him is known only to you.)

Sanford will also make it part of his routine to pluck your glasses from your nose and clean them after he does his own. Afterward, he'll slowly lean in when he places them back on you to make sure he doesn't poke you in the eye. Neither of you mention that you could do it yourself, or that his decision to slide them back onto the bridge of your nose himself was highly unnecessary. Maybe he just does it to get a better look at the way you blink up at him and blush, or perhaps it's for some other reason, who's to say? Either way, you have no complaints.

- [HANK J. WIMBLETON] -

Your laughs are muffled under Hank's hands as he cups your face, tilting it up to look closely at you. His excitement at your new look is almost palpable; you can easily tell from how he's shaking and hurriedly looking over, his gaze never stopping on one spot for longer than a second. He just wants to take in everything about your new look, is all.

He'll almost insist on doing a mission with you wearing it, not only because the idea sounds fun to him (with his love of carnage and all), but also because it provides an excellent opportunity to rub in everyone else's faces that you chose to copy his outfit. Not theirs.

In a way, he also becomes just a tad more doting than usual. He busies himself with dusting you off, and adjusting your goggles and the lapels of your coat whenever another skirmish is finished. It's his way of checking you over and making sure your hard work wasn't damaged either.

(Plus, he'd hate it if this instance of you copying him was cut short because of some worthless grunts' attempts at harming you.)

You'll catch him sticking closer to you than usual too, and he does so for multiple reasons. First is that he just prefers to be near you whenever he can anyway (the warmth of your presence is one of his favorite things, and it gives ample opportunity to show off around you), but now there's also the fact that your outfit will freak out your enemies. As you can imagine, he enjoys that immensely, and what better way to improve this experience than to have his Player join him?

In a way, Hank also sees this as a sort of 'claim' you've put on yourself too. Wearing your significant other's clothing is kind of a thing with some grunts, and while he knows they aren't really his clothes, there's still some of that same sentiment there that makes him purr just a bit louder whenever he sees you in that new outfit of yours. It tells the world you're his in some way, even if not officially. So why wouldn't he be happy about that?

[yanderes-galore]

Madness combat

Yandere!Platonic! 2BDamned vs Romantic!Yandere! Hank with 2BDamned's child!GN! Darling concept

(2BDad protects his child from Hank)

Oh boy....

General Hank Concept

Platonic 2BDamned Concept

Yandere! Platonic! 2BDamned vs Yandere! Hank

Pairing: Platonic (2B)/Romantic (Hank) - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Isolation, Violence/Murder mention, Jealousy, Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced companionship (2B)/relationship (Hank).

While 2B "trusts" Hank it can only go so far.

2B loves his kid more than anything else.

It's to the point he manipulates and isolates you for your own protection.

He tries his best to keep Hank away from you but Hank still finds out about you.

Your home is here in this lab where he can essentially control you as your father.

Y'know the whole "Mother Knows Best" song from Tangled?

Your dynamic between you and 2B is very similar... except he has a point when he says everything can kill you.

Despite 2B's efforts to call you away... you still manage to speak with Hank, Deimos, and Sanford.

Deimos and Sanford treat you like a sibling.

Hank's mostly silent... but his view on you is much different than the others.

Considering what 2B does to his kid to keep them as his (see his platonic concept), Hank having you alone is difficult.

2B tolerates Hank around you but no doubt begins to notice Hank's growing... attachment towards you.

2B notices when Hank comes for treatment he often stares at you.

2B tries not to show that he's upset when you talk to Hank during treatments.

Hank's soaking in every word and remembering your appearance as 2B silently seethes.

Hank doesn't entirely feel threatened with 2B around you.

The doc is your father... but if Hank feels romantic intentions towards you, he isn't letting 2B get in the way either.

2B just about nearly throws Hank out of his lab when he notices the physical advances.

2B has planned everything out, you were meant to stay in the lab with him... any form of rebellion or wish to go outside would be smothered.

Yet here Hank is... doing the exact thing he feared would happen if you had a social life.

Hank's treating you in a delicate manner, large calloused hands lightly holding your hands and touching your skin.

He feels at ease around you.

He's... he's never felt a thing like love before.

It satiates his constant need for bloodlust.

So he finds himself leaning closer, wanting to purr towards you and hold you close...

Only for 2B to toss Hank out before trying to remove the idea of Hank from your mind.

This is where things would go down hill from here.

Hank's already fallen for you and isn't willing to just leave without you.

Meanwhile 2B now sees Hank as a complete and total threat to you and fears he'll lose you.

I see the rivalry going like this... Hank steals you from the lab and 2B hunts him down.

Like a wild animal, Hank manages to break into the lab you've always called home and takes you away.

The criminal has his strong arms wrapped around you as he carries you away to somewhere more private.

He sees you as his... so he'll keep you.

Plus... isn't it nice to be outside again?

Now you two are finally alone....

While Hank hides you away for himself, 2B is on the verge of a mental break.

He knows Hank took his kid.

The issue is finding him....

When it comes to how obsessive 2B is about his kid... he won't rest until he has you again.

2B will use everything he has to track you and Hank down.

Once he does... he'll straight up kill Hank if Hank doesn't kill him first.

Then afterwards, he'll take you back home and clear the idea of Hank's existence out of your mind... then you can both be happy again.

[iexistapparantly]

'What the fuck is this supposed to be?' -Human!Reader X Madness Combat-

TW: Strong language, blood, violence (obviously)

Short stories, yay.

It's the dead of night, the dimly lit street stretches ahead, a solitary path occasionally punctuated by the distant hum of passing cars. You've just wrapped up another long, exhausting day at work. Your sister, in her infinite wisdom, decided this was the perfect time for a meetup at some bizarre restaurant you've never heard of. Gripping your phone like a lifeline, you mutter to yourself. "Why couldn't she pick a normal place? She always has such weird taste” 

You squint at your phone's screen, the glow reflecting in your irritated eyes. With your pockets feeling as empty as your bank account, you decided to save gas and hoof it. Just your luck, though – as you walk, the weather decides that no, you may not have a good day. A tiny, singular drop of water plips on your nose. Then another lands on your phone. It's not long before multiple tiny raindrops start pelting down. You groan, pulling the hood of your jacket over your head. "Great, just great. I'm soaked already. This can’t get any worse." 

But wait, there's hope! You're not entirely helpless; you had the foresight to bring an umbrella. Blessings upon blessings for not being a total dolt. However, your moment of self-congratulation is short-lived. As you're strolling along, raindrops gently bouncing off your trusty umbrella, things do indeed get worse. 

Your foot snags on a crack in the pavement and you unceremoniously plummet face-first onto the concrete, your phone catapulting off into the nearby bushes. With an exasperated sigh, you pick yourself up, your now damp and filthy clothes clinging to your skin like glue. Cold, wet, dirty glue. "...I should have kept my mouth shut" Grumbling and swiping at your now mud-stained clothes, you begin your quest to retrieve your precious phone. You gaze around for a sign of its whereabouts, your frustration palpable. "It’s dark as shit out here, I can’t see anything- wait." Your eyes zero in on its location, and your heart drops as you realize it landed in a ditch. 

Without a moment's thought, you lurch forward, desperation propelling you as your shoes kick up mud and leaves. You scramble toward the edge of the ditch, praying you can reach your phone before it meets a watery grave. But alas, you're just a hair too slow. It splashes into the water and floats away into a tunnel within the mountain. With a helpless gasp, you watch as your beloved slips from the ledge and disappears into a yawning tunnel leading deep into the mountain. 

Panic surges within you. You unleash a shout of frustration. "No, no, no!" Ignoring the darkness and your complete lack of a plan, you blindly plunge into the tunnel, your hands frantically sweeping the water's surface. Your heart races as you grope through the murky depths, searching desperately for your precious device. You keep scrambling along in the never-ending tunnel, feeling like you're stuck in some sort of bad dream. 

Your fingers scrape against the wet ground as you scuffle along on your hands and knees. It's dark, creepy, and your heart is still racing from the loss of your phone. You squint through the murky tunnel and spot a faint red glow. Your heart skips a beat. You squint your eyes further, your face scrunching as you step forward, hoping for a miracle. As you approach, the only thing you are able to see is the large hole your phone is floating towards. Without thinking, you lunge forward, thrusting your arm through the hole to snatch your phone before it slips away for good. 

But your fingers grasp at empty air, and you're left with nothing but failure. "Damnit!" Frustration fuels your determination, and you stick your head out of the small opening. The first thing that hits you is the sand, and not in a fun beach way. It flies right into your face, getting into your eyes, your nose, and your mouth. You grunt and stumble backward, falling back into the water with a splash. 

You're now completely drenched, adding insult to injury. “Great. Just fucking fantastic.” You try to get the sand out of your eyes, but it feels like your eyeballs have turned into scratchy sandpaper. You curse your luck once more, all while sitting in the water, soaked to the bone and feeling like the universe decided to just take a massive shit on your life. Tears mix with the sand on your face as frustration consumes you. You're drenched, irritated as hell, and your eyeballs feel like they've been through a desert sandstorm. But you can't give up, not when your precious phone is at stake. The files stored in that thing are irreplacable.

You take a deep breath, wiping your face with a soggy sleeve. "Alright, let's do this." After a quick check to ensure you can get back out of the hole, you stick your legs through and awkwardly plop down. The rocks dig into your skin as you slide through the narrow gap. Your hood gets caught on the jagged edges, exposing your midriff to the cold wind as you slide through. With an undignified yelp, you dangle in the air for a moment before dropping down onto your butt with a grunt. A small smile of relief graces your face as you retrieve your phone and attempt to power it on. That smile very quickly falls into a scowl when, with trembling fingers, you press the power button, praying for a miracle, but nope. It's as dead as hell. No matter how many times you jab at the power button, it refuses to cooperate. 

You let out an indignant sigh, looking around the semi-lit cave you've ended up in. Your body goes lax in defeat and you decide it's time to climb out of this strange, semi-lit cave. But just as you're about to make your move, something catches your eye. An exit, a little farther away, bathed in the same eerie red light that you just fell through. But this one, it's definitely the source of that crimson glow. 

You pause, your eyebrows furrowing as you take in the unsettling scene. The silence in that direction is deafening, save for the occasional flutter of sand in the stagnant air. But that's odd; there shouldn't be any wind down here to stir up the sand. Your gut twists with unease – something isn't right. You swallow hard, the lump in your throat refusing to budge as you contemplate your next move. Your curiosity led you into this mess and it's not about to let you walk away now. 

You're faced with a dilemma: A) Climb back up and save your precious sim card, or B) venture into the weird glowy exit. The answer is as clear as day, at least to your curious, slightly daft mind. You choose the latter. Crawling low to the ground, you cautiously poke your head out of the exit once more, squinting your eyes this time to block any sand. What you see makes your jaw drop "What the hell is this place supposed to be?!" 

Before you stretches an expanse that can only be described as a whole ass desert. Well, you think it's a desert, given the vast amount of strange black sand, sandstone formations, and tge complete absence of trees. You're no expert though, so this might just be some really, really fucked up cave system. It’s an ominous change to the lush foliage back in your town. What truly boggles your mind is the sky – it's this strange, otherworldly shade of red. 

You don't hesitate for long. You squeeze yourself out of the hole and stand up, fully taking in the surreal landscape before you. It seems almost endless, like you've stumbled into some sort of bizarre world. And you, being the curious (stupid) soul you are, feel compelled to explore it. 

As you wander through this odd terrain, you start to notice more peculiarities. There are what appear to be tattered pieces of metal scattered about, and you catch glimpses of small skeletal remains poking out from beneath the sand. A heavy sense of dread gnaws at your stomach the whole time, that sense of dread soon becomes unbearable, intensifying with each step away from the cave exit. 

After just a couple of minutes, you can't take it any longer, and you decide to turn back. But there's a problem – you can't find the cave. Dread sets in as you try to retrace your steps, only succeeding in getting yourself more lost. Everything looks the same, and there's not a single recognizable landmark in sight. You mutter to yourself, "Of course, this had to happen." You're in full-blown panic mode now, and that overwhelming sense of dread has you sprinting like your life depends on it. But let's be real – you're not exactly running far, just sort of scuttling in circles, hoping to stumble upon something familiar. Spoiler alert: that doesn't happen. 

It becomes painfully obvious that logic is not your strong suit as you continue your amazing plan of walking in random directions. You start to question your life choices and contemplate just what made you decide to enter an unknown, dangerous looking and unexplored area with no second thoughts. "Why am I like this?" you mutter between panicked breaths. Finally, you spot something up ahead. Is that... a wall? Yep, it definitely is. You approach it, taking note that it's not particularly imposing. 

It reaches up to your head in height, and you can't quite gauge its thickness. It's constructed from an odd mishmash of small metal scraps, toothpick-like poles, and a generous sprinkling of menacing barbed wire. The dread in your gut grows, but so does your curiosity. A sensible person might think twice before attempting to hop over such a fence. But are you a sensible person? Hell no. 

You decide to defy all reason and logic you've chastised yourself for not having a few moments ago. Instead of listening to that tiny voice in your head that's just trying to look out for your well-being, you opt for the best route possible. Circling around the wall, you scout out a sturdy rock, clamber onto it, and attempt to scale the makeshift barrier like a newborn baby learning how to stand. Spoiler alert again: it's not the most graceful climb. Your utter lack of upper body strength becomes painfully evident, and you end up resorting to rolling onto your stomach, then flopping down onto your back, landing on the ground with a resounding THUNK. 

Gritting your teeth and grunting in pain, you squint your eyes open, half-expecting to find yourself in some sort of absurd fever dream. But instead, you're met with the sight of a large... city? Well, it's not exactly "large." In fact, it's pretty damn small, but there's a whole lot of it, considering it's dwarfed by your presence.

You sit up, wincing as you rub your sore back with your palm, and take a closer look at your surroundings. Most of the buildings around you reach only up to your shoulders. "Well, this is one way to feel tall," you mutter with a bemused grin, not quite processing the absurdity of it all. Your eyes drop to the ground where you landed, and you're met with the sight of a tiny truck. A really tiny one. 

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you crouch down to examine it more closely. That's when you notice something oozing out from the crushed vehicle. It's... yellow? And is that... blood? Your eyes widen, and you can't help but exclaim, "Wait, what the hell?" Your gaze locks onto a severed hand lying amidst the gruesome mess. It's not attached to anything, and it's got an odd light gray skin tone. 

You can't help but mumble words of confusion as you pick up the surprisingly heavy miniature truck and inspect it more closely. In an utterly bizarre turn of events, when you lift the truck, the hand that shouldn't be attached to anything follows it. "No way, this can't be real," you mutter, pinching the disembodied hand between your fingers and tugging at it. To your bewilderment, there's resistance. 

After a few moments of perplexed contemplation, you muster up the courage to pry open the crushed roof of the tiny truck and peer inside. Your heart races as you're met with the sight of a very squished, bloody, and rather unpleasant-looking pile of mush. Or at least you think it's blood – it sure as hell smells like it. You recoil, scrunching up your nose in disgust. 

Panic sets in once more, and you start to freak out. Did you accidentally squash some bizarre mutant rat creature? Where the hell even are you? And why in the world are these buildings so ridiculously small? Questions swirl through your mind as you stand there, completely bewildered and utterly freaked out. 

Before you can wrap your head around the bizarre mushy encounter, the soft thuds of approaching shoes catch your attention. You whip around and lock eyes with... well, whatever the hell it is that's staring right back at you. Your jaw drops, and so does the, uh, "rat," for lack of a better term. Your eyes widen like saucers as you take in this unprecedented sight. This creature is like nothing you've ever seen – not even in your wildest nightmares. It doesn't possess any eyes, but you can feel its gaze piercing through you. It's an eerie shade of gray, maybe about 16 inches tall, or possibly even smaller. The weirdest part? It has no limbs to speak of, just two floating hands and a pair of shoes awkwardly stuck to its lower body. Its clothing is oddly fancy – a snazzy suit that's completely out of place. Its "face," if you can call it that, is just a cross on the center of its head, topped with a pair of sunglasses. Sunglasses! It doesn't even have a nose! Oh, was it mentioned that it has floating hands? Because it totally has floating hands. 

Your mouth hangs open in shock as the creature points at you and screams in bloody horror. It makes a break for it, disappearing into the miniature cityscape. Honestly, you can't blame it. You would run like hell if you saw a giant, homeless looking stinky ass homosapien too. 

"Wait!" Without thinking, you scramble to follow, your curiosity now competing with your terror. But your curiosity takes a backseat when you round a corner and come face to face with a gaggle of more of these bizarre beings – all of them brandishing tiny guns.

"Oh, shit." 

You stumble backward just as a hail of tiny bullets whizzes past you. Surprisingly, it hurts – like getting pelted by a thousand miniature sandblasters that actually penetrate your skin and make you bleed. Your flight-or-fight instincts kick into overdrive, and you choose the latter. Again.

You spring forward, channeling your fear and a touch of anger into a dropkick that sends one of the creatures soaring through the air, colliding with the miniature buildings. But the rest of them? They don't run away. Instead, they seem even more determined to kick your ass. You quickly become outnumbered, losing count of how many times you feel one of them mounting you and stabbing at your skin with their blunt instruments. 

Realization dawns on you – you can't win this way. So, in a desperate bid for survival, you do the smartest thing you can think of and should have done originally: run like a bitch. But the situation takes a turn for the worse as more of those little shits start swarming in, all armed to the teeth and refusing to let you escape. The worst part? A much larger version of these creatures joins the fray, their guns looking closer in size to what humans use. You don't want to find out what it feels like to get shot by one of those. 

That's it. No more curiosity. You want out. Your clothes are shredded, drenched in blood, you're riddled with pain, hunger gnaws at your gut, your phone is still a dead weight, and you're scared shitless. You'd give anything to be anywhere else right now. So, you leap over the wall and sprint down the empty, dark desert, leaving the madness behind. Even when you've put a good distance between you and the chaos, you can still hear their war cries echoing in the distance. 

Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, you come across a larger building, looming ominously in the distance. Instead of approaching it, your instincts scream at you to stay as far away as possible. Unfortunately, the residents inside don't seem to share your sentiments. A tiny red dot appears between your eyes, and you have mere moments to react before a bullet slams into your skull. It doesn't pierce the bone, but the force of the impact sends you tumbling to the ground, your vision blurring. You groan, blood now mixing with the mess of dirt and sweat on your face. 

You manage to prop yourself up, your hand clutching your now even more bloodied and injured head. Gazing up at the roof of the building, you spot another one of those little creatures perched on the edge, aiming a sniper rifle right at you. This one looks different from the others, with what appears to be a black mask, red goggles, and... is that a fucking mohawk? You can't be entirely sure from this distance. 

Another figure with circular goggles appears beside the sniper, smacking the rifle's barrel away from you. A spark of hope flickers in your heart, but it's quickly extinguished when the creature slides down the wall, using a knife to slow its descent, and starts sprinting toward you with a katana in hand. Mercy is clearly not on the menu. 

You scramble to your feet, but your many injuries slow you down. The adrenaline surging through your veins helps, but it's still a challenge to get up and run for it. The creature proves to be surprisingly swift, easily closing the distance. Its first target: your heels. It slices through the tendons of your foot, sending you tumbling to the ground once more. With only a spare second to react, you instinctively cover your neck, anticipating the worst. Your arms are nearly shredded as the creature's blade flashes down in a millisecond.

All you can see are two glowing red dots staring down at you and the fluttering of a coat. Before the creature can bring the blade down on your eye, you swing your injured arm out, but it's too late. The creature leaps and dodges your rather pathetic attempt, landing on your face and impaling your left eye with its katana. 

Pain surges through your body, and you let out a guttural cry. Pain engulfs you as you scream, the creature's weight pressing down, creating a scorching heat from its blade searing through your flesh. It's a level of agony you've never known, and it feels like your world is being consumed by fire. 

The blade twists to the side, mercilessly slashing through your skin like it's cutting through butter, running down your eyelid and part of your cheekbone. Tears pour uncontrollably from your only good eye, the sight of the blade lifting, poised to strike your other eye, reigniting your survival instincts. 

This time, when you throw your hand out, it connects with the creature, and you manage to hit it off your face, its back hitting the ground harshly. Another cry escapes your lips as you clutch your injured eye, trembling and shaking uncontrollably. Scrambling backward, you avoid the creature as it stalks slowly toward you, its gloved fingers twirling the now bloodied blade in its hands, clearly relishing in your fear, panic, and pain. 

Your back hits the building you had been trying to avoid, and you look up, catching sight of the other creature observing from above. Desperation courses through you, and in a swift, instinctual movement, you reach up and grab the head of the creature in your hand. It's a race against time, and your grip tightens as the creature attacking you hesitates. "I-I swear," you stammer through your sobs, your voice quivering with fear but laced with determination, "I'll crush his damn skull if you come any closer! Back off!" 

The creature slowly backs off, still harboring a desire to attack. Meanwhile, the one in your grip struggles fiercely, its strength surprising you as you grapple to keep it restrained. There comes a point when it manages to draw a knife and stab your fingers, but you refuse to relent. If you let go now, you'll lose your other eye and, quite possibly, your life. 

With your fingers aching and bleeding, you slowly step backward, tossing the creature's weapons aside. Once you're a safe distance away, you pivot on your heels and break into a limping sprint, faster than you've ever run before, adrenaline coursing through your veins like a raging river. 

You glance over your shoulder, confirming that the creature is still in pursuit, and the other one is struggling to free itself. Gunshots ring out, and most of them seem to find their target. Despite the searing pain you feel with each hit, you refuse to stop running; you only push yourself harder. 

You take as many twists and turns as possible, desperately trying to shake off the relentless pursuer. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you succeed in losing the creature on your heels. As soon as you're out of immediate danger, you lean against one of the many rocks scattered across the desert, clutching the creature tightly to your chest for comfort. 

Overwhelmed by fear, pain, and helplessness, you can't hold back the sobs that wrack your body. You tremble uncontrollably as you wallow in self-pity, tears and blood streaming down your face. You clutch onto the tiny creature tightly, your nose pressed against its head, the hair on its scalp tickling your skin as you choke out pitiful hiccups and sobs. The creature in your hands is now silent, having given up its futile struggle a little while ago when it realized escape was highly improbable. After your intense sobbing fit subsides, you find yourself sitting in the desert, still clutching the creature you'd been struggling with moments ago, the searing pain in your eye still has not faded.

The adrenaline has left your body, leaving you drained and trembling, but you manage to regain your composure. Taking a few deep breaths, you turn your attention to the creature in your arms. "What the hell are you?" you manage to croak, your voice shaky. 

The creature stirs slightly in your grasp, and it's deep, resonant voice cuts through the eerie silence of the desert. "Call me 2Bdamned," it responds bluntly.

 “I said what are you?” 

2Bdamned shifts his body, trying to adjust into a more comfortable position, “a grunt.” You blink in surprise at its straightforwardness. 

"A grunt? Like from some weird fucked up animal?" 

"Something like that," 2Bdamned replies, his tone cold and calculating. "But I've never seen anything like you before. What are you, and how did you end up here?" You take a moment to collect your thoughts before you begin recounting what you are and your bizarre journey, starting with the inexplicable fall through the tunnel and ending with the chaotic encounter with the other creatures.

"I honestly have no idea where 'here' even is," you admit, your voice tinged with frustration. “This whole situation has just been so fucked up.. And now I've lost a damn eye because of it.” 2Bdamned remains silent for a moment, processing your story. 

"You’re in Nevada. You will never find anything but ‘fucked up situations’ here." he explains, sounding almost bored.

You nod, beginning to grasp the gravity of your situation. "Is there a way I can leave..?" 

2Bdamned's voice remains as cold and pragmatic as ever. "Escaping Nevada won't be easy, but it might be possible if I figure out what brought you here in the first place." As you continue your conversation with 2Bdamned, you realize that despite the chaos and uncertainty that surrounds you both, he may be your best chance at navigating this surreal realm and finding a way to break free from the grip of Nevada's relentless madness. 

As you sit there, trembling and lost in the madness of Nevada, 2Bdamned appears to grow tired of your sobbing and finally acknowledges your existence. His cold, calculating demeanor slowly gives way to a begrudging curiosity about what exactly you are. "Fine," he mutters with a resigned sigh, his reluctance palpable in his tone. "I'll help you, but don't expect any hospitality." You readily accept his offer, your eagerness to find a way out of this nightmarish Nevada outweighing any concerns about his demeanor. Together, you make your way back to the building, where the atmosphere is anything but friendly. 

Inside, 2Bdamned confronts Hank, the grunt who had originally attacked you, his voice carrying a stern message, "Don't do that anymore." Hank, visibly displeased, gives you a death glare that could curdle milk. Despite his clear displeasure, he begrudgingly listens to 2Bdamned's command. You can practically feel the waves of bloodlust radiating off him, sending a shiver down your spine. 

While you're sitting outside the building, anxiously waiting for some glimmer of hope in this bizarre desert, 2Bdamned finally emerges with news. He informs you that Deimos, another one of his mercenaries, is poring over the data and information he had provided, desperately searching for any anomalies within this bewildering desert to locate an exit, or something like that. 

But in the meantime, 2Bdamned decides he should patch you up to prevent you from bleeding out and to prevent infection. With surprising skill, he tends to your wounds, you still wince and grimace at the pain like a complete baby. But you're grateful nonetheless, considering the alternative would involve a lot more bleeding and a lot less being alive. 

When he's done, he offers you a miniature hotdog, which you can really only lick, it's like a damn crumb. It's a tiny snack for a big problem, but it'll have to do. As 2Bdamned starts to ask you questions, another grunt unexpectedly pokes his head out of the building. He’s wearing a cute little visor, the cap shifting as he flicks it up with his finger and eagerly informs 2Bdamned of his findings. But when he spots you, towering over both him and the entire damn base, he stares, slack jawed, "...what… the fuck…?" 2Bdamned simply gestures for him to leave, and the unfamiliar grunt’s cross scrunches with what you can only imagine to be irritation and a bit (a lot) of surprise.

Not one to pry into matters that don't concern him (for now at least), he decides to keep his questions to himself and retreats back into the building. 2Bdamned, a little bummed that his conversation got cut short, heads back inside to review the information Deimos brought him. Soon enough, he returns with a tracker and a map, indicating that it's time to embark on your journey.

The walk is excruciatingly slow, thanks to the vast difference in stride length between you and the grunts. After some time, you decide to take matters into your own hands – literally. You pick up 2Bdamned and ask him to point you in the right direction, much to his chagrin. Meanwhile, Hank, who had decided to tag along uninvited, scuffles up to you (without asking) and opts for a more unconventional mode of transportation, climbing onto your foot for the ride. (again, you did not offer. You still haven’t forgotten what he’s done to your eye and ankles.)

Eventually, all three of you reach the familiar cave entrance. You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful to have found your way back. At this point, you're exhausted beyond belief, and passing out seems like a very tempting option. You express your gratitude to the grunts for their assistance in finding your way back and for patching you up. 

You turn to 2Bdamned and give him the best smile you can, though it does end up looking like a grimace, "Thanks a lot, 2Bdamned. Your help means a lot." 2Bdamned grumbles in response, still not quite fond of wasting his time on such inconvenient and meaningless things, but he does offer a nod of acknowledgment. Hank, on the other hand, has been silently staring this whole time, his unblinking gaze locked onto you. It's a bit unsettling, to be honest. You decide to give him some recognition too, albeit in an awkward manner. 

You give Hank a small wave, "Uh, thanks, Hank. You...uh, did a great job not attacking me again." Hank remains silent, but he does cock his head to the side, which you take as a sign that he acknowledges your thanks in his own way. Or maybe he's just silently mocking you. It's hard to tell with this dude. 

The cave entrance looks similar to the way you remember it. The walls of the entrance is barely big enough for you to fit. The air is damp and filled with a strange, earthy scent that lingers in your nostrils. With the less than pleasant goodbye to your.. Companions? Acquaintances? Weird midget alien frenemies? You're not really sure.. 

You take a moment to survey your surroundings. Sending a final wave to 2Bdamned and an awkward nod in Hank's direction, you decide it's time to make your way back into the cave. You leave the two grunts to their own devices, whatever those may be, and begin your journey back through the dark, damp tunnel. 

Limping your way through the ditch, you can still feel the persistent drizzle of rain soaking through your clothes. It's as if the weather has decided to join in on the absurdity of Nevada. As you finally emerge from the tunnel and take that crucial step onto the surface, rain once again greets you. The shower immediately intensifies, turning from a drizzle to a downpour. You can't help but roll your eye at the timing. "Great," you mutter to yourself, drenched and shivering from both the rain and the bizarre events of your journey. "Just what I needed." Through the entire experience you just went through, you can say for certain.. You’re never walking into weird ass caves again.

Edited - 12/16/2023

[krystalkitdemi]

Player’s nightmares.

Player has emerging nightmares as a result of trauma from being in a dangerous place like Nevada.  Inspired by the storyline made by @saltymongoose  I also took a few liberties with giving the boys smells. Plus fair warning: I have not written much in a while, so I may be a bit rusty.  You have been living in Nevada for a while now. Your only friends are the vessels that have sworn themselves to you. Large, violent, protective, grey skinned, Faceless grunts. Their sheer strength compared to yours was incredible and kept you safe as you helped them with your otherworldy power.  However, Seeing their fights up close and not behind the safety of a computer screen was disturbing. To see all the blood and gore firsthand left some impacts on your mind.  These impacts came to a head when you were sleeping. Nightmares. Terrors that began to eat away at your mind while you were sleeping, impacting your waking moments. It kept happening for days before the latest one. You woke with a start and felt that you were sweating. Your body was shaking, remembering the terrifying dream you just had. You knew you were safe, but you could not shake the feeling of terror. You got up and decided that perhaps you could not sleep alone this night. You would go to one of your vessels for help. But you also knew that you would have to make it fair afterwards. You hoped that they did not mind. Little did you know that this would make them absolutely thrilled at the prospect of spending time with you.  Quietly through the darkness of the base you snuck, trying not to make noise as you went to the room of your chosen vessel. You came upon his door and your small hand reached the handle. You turned it softly to not disturb anyone and entered the room. 

Sanford

You looked at Sanford’s sleeping form, He was dead asleep. He did not react when you closed the door. You crept closer to his makeshift bed, crafted from a couch he found and modified it to be big enough to sleep on. His head was propped up by a pillow on the armrest, one of his muscular arms covered his facial cross. His large and beefy frame moved with his breaths and light snores. You carefully climbed up onto the makeshift bed and next to the muscular grunt. It was easy to find a comfortable place next to him and wrap his free arm over you. His skin was cool on the areas exposed to the cool air. It soon warmed up when in contact with your own.  There was something comforting with his strong heartbeats in your ears. You placed your head on his arm and inhaled a little. The smell of gunpowder and sweat was on him. However, there was another scent right under it. A rich and slightly earthy musk scent. This scent you remembered from first meeting Sanford in person. It was a comforting scent that let you know that he was there. You were safe here. The combination of Sanford’s breathing, the scent, and his heartbeat that allowed you to finally calm enough to sleep. 

Sanford does not even find out until the next morning when he wakes up rested and finds his the player nestled between his muscular arm and torso, with your head resting on his bicep. Your cozy and blooming warmth just as comforting as the first time he held you. He did not know why you were there, perhaps stumbled into his room after needing to use the bathroom late last night and got lost? Not that he was complaining. He just let you sleep a little more, entranced by how cute and serene you looked while asleep.  He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was not dreaming, but no, you were there, laying right beside him. Sanford carefully brushed a calloused finger over your hair. He was careful to not let his sharp, hooked claws cut your much thinner skin. Sanford ran his calloused paw over your cheek, softly as to not wake you. He saw the dark circles that was under your eyes. 

You finally woke up and saw him looking down at you with his paw on your cheek. His paw was warm on your face as you reached to touch it and give him a warm smile. (One that melted his heart as usual.) “Player, why are you in my room?,” Sanford asked, “Did you get lost last night?” “No, not at all... I... Had a nightmare and felt scared...,” You replied, “So I came to find you... Since you make me feel safe.” You did not know how happy that made Sanford. Him? He made you feel safe? He knew you were not as physically strong as him, but you had your godlike abilities to keep you safe. But he was able to make you feel safe when you were scared, despite how powerful you were? Oh he’s over the moon with how happy it makes him feel. Sanford does not hesitate to tell you that you are welcome to stay with him if you ever felt scared or unsafe again, He and Deimos are always willing to help you. Because they love you too much to let you feel unsafe.

Deimos

The grunt’s raspy snores filled the room as you closed the door, careful to not wake him. You saw how hard he was fighting today and knew he needed his sleep. Your footsteps were soft and muffled by the carpeting he set down around his makeshift bed that took a few matresses to make. His jacket was thrown over the chair of his workbench that set next to his cobbled together bed. Deimos’s boots were next to his bed.  His head was resting on a pillow that was covered with one of your shirts that had gone missing. So he was still doing that little habit. It was mostly innocent.  He was clinging onto his pillow for dear life, It was kind of cute.You looked at his sleeping face that seemed to have an odd grin to it. He looked to be having a particulary good dream. 

You crept into his bed and pressed your back against his torso, trying to not disturb him too much. He was roused from his sleep from his contact and loosened his grip on the pillow before sniffing the air. “Mmm..? Pla..yer....?,” Deimos mumbled in his raspy voice before feeling around and grabbing you before pulling you closer, “There.. you are...” You feel him nuzzle his face into your neck and inhale before starting to purr. Your body was being held tightly against his as you began to listen to his purring. He quickly returned to sleep, almost as if he was not even awake. His raspy purrs turned into just as raspy snores. He held you tight to his body. Deimos’s smell wafted into your nose. He was tarnished mostly by the scent of his vice, but his own scent was just peeking out from underneath. One you had noticed once before during a tight hug that he gave you after a battle. One that was a little spicy smelling but mellow and earthy, his own natural scent. You fell back into sleep after feeling you are safe. You trusted Deimos.

Deimos was confused but thrilled when he found you nestled in his arms when he woke. It was like a dream come true for the chainsmoking grunt. While you were still sleeping, he kept nuzzling your head and cheek, inhaling your scent and loving the warmth you had. How he wished that you would continue this, before wondering why you were in his room in the first place. He could ask you when you wake. He did not need to wait long.  “Mornin’ Player.,” Deimos purred to you while nuzzling your cheek with his oddly soft skin.  “Morning, Deimos.,” You yawned and got up, “I’m sorry if I bothered you.” Deimos had a lazy smile on his face as he looked at you, His purring was getting louder.  “Didn’t bother me at all~,” He replied smoothly in a tone of voice he knew you liked, “So why did you come in my room?” Through a bit of explination, you told him about your recent nightmares and was beginning to feel unsafe. Deimos listened carefully while tilting his head a bit to the side, his messy hair flopping over a bit. He had a grin on as he told you that he wouldn’t mind if you came to him if you had any more nightmares. (Like hell he would allow you to feel unsafe when he and Sanford were there.)

2bdamned

Doc was still awake and working. He heard you close the door and turned back to look at you walking towards him.  “Player? What are you doing up at this time?,” He asked with concern.  You were quiet to answer, “I just had a nightmare and could not shake the feeling of being in danger.” Doc found it amusing that something like a nightmare would shake you up this badly, but seeing the circles under your eyes, he believed you. You were being impacted by this.  “Is it okay to stay with you?,” You asked the masked grunt.  Doc seemed to visually light up at the idea. It was kind of cute. He allowed you to get closer. You lifted his arm up to wrap around you, like how you usually did when you felt like giving him a cuddle. But this time you climbed into his lap. He was not against this, but it was a little unusual. However, feeling your smaller body pressed up onto his, your arms and legs wrapped around his body for stability felt good. The mere contact with your body was enough to make the wonderful warmth and comfort you provided wash over Doc. You were cozy and comforting, yet otherworldly and powerful. And yet, you wanted to be comforted as well. You came to him for that comfort. He was not going to turn you away. How painful it would be to drive you to someone else for the comfort you needed. 

You felt a lot better from being by Doc, by being held by Doc. It was a little embarrassing that you felt like a child running to a parent after getting spooked by that nightmare, But this was the only thing your tired brain could think of. You rested your head against Doc’s shoulder and closed your eyes. His light purring gave some more comfort to you. Doc laid one paw on your back and rubbed it as you nuzzled his shoulder a bit. He smelled like strong disinfectant that stripped all of his natural scent away from him. You could feel him take off his mask and bandages to feel your skin better against his. Between his shared warmth, purring and the light rubbing of your back made you fall back into restful sleep. He could feel you go limp as you fell into a deep sleep.

Doc finished the work he had been doing and brought you back to his own makeshift bed, made of mattresses and furniture pieces he found. He carefully  got onto the bedding while holding you. He found his own tired mind being lulled into the black depths of sleep as he was encompassed by the cozy warmth you radiated. It was not long before he too fell to much needed sleep.  You both slept into the morning, not waking until Hank barged into the room after finding yours empty and seeing you with Doc. You had to explain to Hank and now he wants to cuddle too. 

Hank J. Wimbleton

Hank was awake as soon as you closed the door and walked to him as he lay on his makeshift bedding, made from matresses Haphazardly stitched together. He was mulling over why you were in his room as he watched you set down on his bed. The dark circles under your eyes told him that something was not right. He had seen that you looked a little more sleepy and nervous during missions. “I’m sorry for bothering you, Hank.,” You apologized, “I had a nightmare and felt unsafe... So I came to you... to feel safe.” Hank’s facial cross was scrunched up as he tiredly thought about what you said before softening and exploding in a cacophony of purrs. Hank pulled you close and nuzzled your head softly with his uncovered metal jaw and exposed teeth pressed against your temple. He traced his large paws over your skin before pulling you onto his lap to enclose you with his massive body. You felt his cold metal jaw and teeth rubbing your shoulder as he took in your delightful smell. Your own nose was filled with Hank’s own rather pungent smell. The metallic and biting iron smell of blood and the bitter burning of gunpowder mixing with sweat and strong musk. His natural smell was very strong and intoxicating, but you assumed it was because he was a gen 1.  Your shoulder became wet from Hank rubbing his mouth and face on it, coating you with sticky saliva. His purring was loudly overtaking any other thought you had. He was acting like a big cat. Your much smaller arms held onto Hank as he kept purring. This was a rare time to find him without his usual gear or his trademark coat. He was pretty much bare of his clothes save for an undershirt and a beaten up pair of pants. You took this time to run your small hands over his scarred skin, it felt calloused and you could feel the rippling muscles underneath it. He stopped rubbing his face into your Shoulder to move up to bump his head into yours, pressing his cold metal jaw and torn remains of lips that barely covered his teeth into your cheek. You returned the favor by kissing his cheek right below his facial cross.  Hank was happy that you came to him after feeling unsafe, He knew he would be able to protect you the best. You also knew that since you did come to HIM instead of that annoying torturer and pyrokinetic duo or the medic. Now that you were alone with him, he could indulge in your scent and this more intimate contact before returning to sleep. Especially since you’d be right with him while you slept. A soft thud sounded in the room as Hank leaned back to fall on the matress with you still pressed onto him, You fell on top of him. Your chest pressed against his as he vibrated from his continued purring, you propped yourself up with your arms to look up at him. One of his hands reached up and touched your face, running his rough thumbpad against your cheek and lip as he stared at you contentedly. Your eyes were still bright and colorful, even in the darkness surrounding the both of you. Eyes that looked tired and would soon need to close. He reached behind your head to pull you back down and onto him.  “Sleep. You are safe here.,” You heard him say in a voice as soft as he could muster. You could not fight sleep anymore. Not with your exhaustion from not being able to sleep well for a while, Hank’s purring and his rich scent clouding your mind. The mercinary did not escape sleep’s ever reaching grasp either as he too was pulled in and held his beloved player through the ‘night’. There were no problems for either one of you as you slept, except for the next morning when Deimos started looking for you and found you in Hank’s room. Hank threw a knife at him that Deimos was able to avoid, but the blade was lodged in the wall for the next hour until Hank pulled it out. 

[creatorthegod]

Yandere Madness combat x Tricky! Reader

Hello everyone I have a poll up to decide what character to wright for and I just wanted to do Tricky, but don't worry the winner of the poll will still get a story and some stories have have multiple parts, also is you chose a character for the poll and did no win don't worry I will do other stories with the characters.

Below here has some smut in it

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

Everyday was the same go to work,get some of the project done, get called to the director's office, stay there for the rest of the day, go home and if it was friday watch Slaughter Time. I enter the large building grunts greeting me as I walk by, as I enter the lab I notice that Christoff what not here yet, I only manage to sit down for a few seconds before a grunt tells me the the director needs me, I stand up and start walking, each step making me more nervous than before until I was at the office door, I take a deep breath before pushing open the door. Inside sitting at the chair was Phobos and in front of him was his desk "Y-you wanted t-to see me s-sir" I stuttered out, I could feel the sweat coming down on my face, "Yes Dr. (y/n) why don't you have a seat" his voice had a slight teasing tone, as I look around I find no chair "u-um sir w-where should I sit" I ask him and I could see a smirk growing on his face as pats his leg, a slight blush appears on my face"A-are you sure s-sir I am a bit on the...heavier side" I look down at my body, I was a little bit overweight but Christoff said he loved that about me, a growl cuts off my thoughts as I looked back at Phobos, I let out a small meep before hurriedly going over to his side, sitting on his legs and lap, he then pulled me in so my head was on his chest, I could feel the heat on my face as he continued to work all while grabbing at my fat and petting my hair.

time skip

My face was burning red, I was faced away from Phobos, his cock inside me it seemed he just wanted me to sit there and be quiet, I let out a few whimpers as his cock rubbed against my g-spot, "s-sir" I say as a tiny wimper, he then hums in acknowledgment his hands still holding on my body "I-i should go and make sure C-Christoff is doing good on the p-project" Phobos grip then tightened as he then thrusts up, I let out a moan as I feel the stimulation "Don't speak of him in my presents" Phobos growls as he continues to thrust until I was bent over and he was standing behind me, he continued and I felt my breathing become erratic and I came on Phobos and soon he came in me "If I put little godlings in you, you will finally realize who you belong to" my face was as red as it could be, he pulls out and I put my clothing back on "W-well I will see you tomorrow s-sir" I say walking out of the room, I slightly rub my ass as I walk back to the lab I then notice the clock 'Is it really time to leave" I say to myself as I walk in to pick up my things, I spot Christoff as he walks up to me "Where were you" he asks " Oh the director wanted to see me" "for the whole day?" "I guess so" I reply grabbing my things before heading out with him, he then notices the rubbing " Are you ok?" he asks with concern "Oh yes I just fell and It hurts a little" "oh well then would you like me to walk you home " I nod my head as we continued walking chatting about different things, at least today is friday.

[cook1emadness]

Please, oh dear writer, May I request 2BDamned x Reader x Hank? Idk what else to add on to this so go crazy

A poly... interesting, ok! :D

doc and Hank are rivals at first

I'm not good with stories so it's gonna be headcanons...

Your honor, I hope you're prepared.

The killing machine and the Dissenter

Le Romance~:

So you got the dissenter and the killing machine falling for you. Well, buckle up and be prepared for these to two are now trying to steal your attention... sort of.

No one doesn't realized that these two are trying to take your heart, maybe sanford and deimos, but they don't seem to care much, probably slighty tease.

2bdamned seems to act more of tsundere while Hank acts kinda yandere but still tsundere like doc.

When both find out that they like the same person, they narrow their eyes at each other. Doc and Hank, maybe allies, but even that doesn't stop them from being rivals.

Doc is not much into affection, but they're willing to hug and hold your hand, unlike someone who they are clearly not giving them the side eye(definitely not hank cough cough).

Doc would, on purposely, send Hank to mission, so you can spend time with them instead of that physcopath. But Hank, of course, had tricked up his sleev- ok yeah he doesn't but he kills and speed runs during missions just so he can see you.

Hank likes to be near you when doc is around just to give the doc the jealousy or payback for taking his days off. Doc does the same thing.

Hank may take you on his mission, and doc gets upset, you might get injured, of course, but he is also jealous of you teaming with Hank(doc's mind "hank I swear to God if I find y/n limbs off or worse, I'm gonna cut off your di-).

But they do come to their senses and actually try to share(hank struggles do, because he's selfish). Hank takes time, so he's gonna have to warm up from the thought of sharing someone he likes to doc. The same goes for the doc, but the doc warms up pretty quick.

Now you have more security because if anyone's tries to harm you or even kill you, doc can track the idiot down, and Hank would just go and kill them.

They don't get jealous that much, but if that grunt gets a little touchy with you, Hank would be right behind you, intimidating the poor grunt while doc is out here giving them the bombastic side eye.

Dates are mostly missions(hank), docs office(doc, he likes it privately, ok), your or hank bedroom, and others you can think of dating(doc and hank). Both, however, they sometimes let you choose because, why not.

Spparing sessions are mostly for Hank and you, but Docs sometimes joins in, hey may or not say, "I love a kind a women that would actually just kill me" just to distract you and win. Hank looking at doc like " bruh".

Remember when I said both are tsundere? Well, well, let me explain, for doc he would sound annoyed and try to brush you off, but if you determine, he will give up and let you stay with him. For Hank, he just gives you that look and won't brush you off, just stay mad or annoyed when he's actually not, unless he isn't in a good mood.

Hank love language is gifting and quality time, he likes receiving gifts from you, likes it if it's a weapon or b l e n d e r. Quality time is also one because he needs someone to be patient for him when starting a relationship.

For doc, is love language is an act of service and quality time.

Doc likes it when you bring him coffee and help with paperwork and mission. He likes it because it tells them that you won't leave his side or here to relieve his stress from work. And quality time, is one because he needs someone patient that won't pressure him to work faster, he doesn't need that bullshit and he wants you to listen to him for things that are important to you, them and the S.Q.

So patience is important for this poly relationship, if your aren't patient, you can't love them, and they can't love you.

Done!! I'll now work on Yan!Auditor and the oneshot(which I'm gonna struggle a lot) anyway I hope you have a good day and night...

[lord-riverstyxx]

Welcome to my blog friends

As you guessed from my bio, I am a Steven Stoughton irl. My source media is the pokepasta Strangled Red (and the other parts Door’s Open and Strangled) and you may have heard of me from the FNF mods Hypno’s Lullaby or Pokepasta Perdition. Apart from irl/fictionkin, I am also otherkin.

Other irls include:

Grey (currently exclusive to FNF Hypno’s Lullaby mod) [weaker irl] 💿🪦

Alternate!Cesar Torres (Mandela Catalogue) ☎️🥀

Kevin (Spooky Month) 🍬💢

Adam Murray (Mandela Catalogue) 👁️‍🗨️🍎

Inosuke Hashibira (Demon Slayer) 🐗🗡️

John Doe (John Doe) 👁️🦷 (has a separate blog @lil-doedoe +18 ONLY)

Hank J. Wimbleton (Madness Combat) 💣🎱 (has yet another separate blog @bl00dysexpxrty but warning for weapons and violence)

Vincent Charbonneau (Dead Plate) 🔪🥩

I also kin (but not to an irl extent like Steven):

Astarion (Baldur’s Gate 3) 🦇

Kotoko Utsugi (Danganronpa) 🎀

Ruby (Pokespe) 🧵

Kuromi (Sanrio) 😈

Medic (Team Fortress 2) 🏥

Mukuro Ikusaba (Danganronpa) ⛓

Seiko Kimura (Danganronpa) 💊

Kirumi Tojo (Danganronpa) 🕸

Tavros Nitram (Homestuck) ♉️

Giyu Tomioka (Demon Slayer) 🌊

Nezuko Kamado (Demon Slayer) 🎋

Black Pearl Cookie (Cookie Run Kingdom) 🔱

Randall Purpura (Purple) ☔️

Astolfo (FGO) 💗

Rosaria (Genshin Impact) 🛐

Lisa (Genshin Impact) (we even share the same birthday!!) 📚

Tate Frost (Purple/Frost Bite) (except he’s super fucking cunty /hj) 🪓

Maison Talo (House Hunted) (MIGHT be irl but I’m not sure yet) 🏠

Pest (Roblox Regretevator) (questioning if irl) 🪲

Deimos (Madness Combat) ⌨️ [and maybe the rest of S.Q./Sanford and 2BDamned but I feel like that’s something else as a whole..]

And many more to come… (these lists are subjected to change)

(More below the cut):

My otherkin types (this list subjected to change):

Alternatekin (like the Mandela Catalogue)

Vampirekin

Dollkin

Eldritchkin

Cryptidkin (more specifically, Mothman)

⚠️ Warning!! ⚠️

This blog may possibly contain shocking, terrifying or suggestive content that may not be suitable for certain ages or people. Viewer discretion is advised.

If you choose to ignore this warning and enter this blog intentionally regardless of what I have said, then so be it. I’m not warning you again so don’t blame me for your negligence and inability to obey my rules.

Minors!! This also applies to you too. Don’t be looking at stuff you shouldn’t be looking at and go.

Also, don’t like what you see? Then move along or just block me. I don’t want to deal with you throwing a tantrum over my stuff.

Who is welcome:

Fans of FNF Hypno’s Lullaby or Pokepasta Perdition

Irl or fictionkin

Autistic/any form of neurodivergent

LGBTQ+

Vampire lovers

Weirdcore/dreamcore/nostalgiacore (tw for derealization?)

Creepypasta/pokepasta/general horror fans

Vintage/retro/silent film lovers

Goth, Emo, EGL, anyone alt

Roblox players

If you like male yandere/crazy boy dating sims

Fellow horror villain/slasher kinnies and irls (so I feel less lonely and learn to accept myself more)

General people who aren’t fucking assholes

DNI:

Basics (racist kkk nazi shit, homo/transphobe, allow cringe culture, pro harassment, ableist, always bringing some kind of discourse in normal spaces /s, etc)

Anti otherkin, fictionkin, irl, etc (why are you even here?)

Anti xenos/neopronouns (they’re not that hard to use but no pressure)

Minors (remember: some of the content here may not be suitable for anyone under 18)

If you judge others quickly/make fun of them based on their irl/kintypes or forbid someone from dating another because of their irls/kintypes (I love my partner dearly and I will make sure you understand that)

If you make fun of someone for their interests

General shitty people

I also tend to block freely, so if I see something that makes me feel uncomfortable in your blog then I apologize in advance

Interact with caution:

Steven simps: Some of you guys are.. interesting to say the least. But PLEASE do not be weird to me because I am a person with feelings too.

Astarion simps: While not as bad as the two above me, I humbly request that you don’t obsess over me.

Ruby haters: Yes people are allowed to have opinions but don’t let it be your whole personality. And this is not a place to express how much you hate me/Ruby.

Medic simps: I’ve only seen a few but Medic simps seem to be like Steven simps. Please please PLEASE don’t be weird to me because I won’t accept your feelings.

Alt!Cesar simps: I was once a Cesar simp denying his feelings until I found out I was an irl of him. And oh my god the simps are no different than Steven simps. And for that reason I really don’t want you to be weird to me please.

Adam simps/haters: It just gets better/worse. If you’re here to slobber over me or be pissy to me I’d rather you not because I am not providing you with anything.

Giyu or Inosuke simps: Why do I keep getting the baddies /j but as per usual don’t be a creep.

And that’s all I have to say. Please be civil and kind on this blog and do NOT spread negativity here. Nobody has time for such trivial stuff and I know I don’t so just be fucking nice and if you see something you don’t like then just leave. I have zero time for your tears.

Have a good day and sending kisses to you all, especially a certain person out there 💋💋💋

-Steven

[cereswritingpoint]

Hey! Welcome.

Since you've come this far, let me introduce myself!

❯ 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄

Hello, I'm Ceres! I'm in my early 20s and I've chosen to bring my writing to Tumblr. Yes! I usually write (and read) in my free time. And, when I'm not writing, I like to listen to music and also read about academic (nerd) articles.

❯ 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒

Newgrounds, JJK, TokRev, Junji Ito, Madness Combat, Soul Eater, CSM, AOT, Assassination Classroom, HxH, JJBA, Death Note, Cowboy Bebop, Evangelion: Death (True)².

❯ 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄;

Sibling!Reader x Character (Only PLATONIC);

Female!Reader, Male!Reader (going to try), NB!Reader;

Reader x Character (Romantic OR Platonic);

Fluff;

(Going to try) angst;

Headcanons;

Oneshots;

Dark/Suggestive content;

(Going to try) Yandere!Character;

Gore, violence;

Note: I will put TW in any delicate topic.

❯ 𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄;

Underage characters;

R*pe or any other type of assault;

Incest;

Smut;

Religious themes;

Heavy angst;

Domestic violence (verbally, physically, emotionally and mentally);

Loli stuff or characters acting like a child.

❯ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑:

From Madness Combat: Series:

Hank J. Wimbleton, Deimos, Sanford, 2BDamned, Tricky, Jebus, Auditor.

From Project Nexus:

Dr. Christoff, The Employers, Director Phobos, Dr. Hofnarr, Dr, Skinner.

Well, that's all for now! Thank you for the attention, and I hope you have a great day! <3

[orderly-anon]

MASTERLIST

Hank J Wimbleton

* none

Deimos

* none

Sanford

* Sanford x Closed Off! Reader

+ Torturer! Sanford x Painless! Regeneretive! Reader

2BDAMNED

* none

Tricky

* none

Jebus

* none

Auditor

* none

MAG Agent: Torture

* none

Gestalt

* none

Phobos

* General Yandere Headcanons

Sheriff

* Yandere Romantic Headcanons

Hofnarr

* none

Crackpot

* none

Other

* none

Noncanon

* none

[nevadancitizen]

“like the tiptop tournée”

synopsis: what would kim kitsuragi be like in the m:pn self-aware au?

word count: 2.7k

characters: kim kitsuragi, sanford, deimos, 2bdamned, hank, player! reader

trigger warnings: canon-typical violence, deimos being a menace

notes: i finally got a free day because everything’s frozen over and got to finish this 😭😭

Nevada really isn’t anything new to Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi. He doesn’t consider himself the finest of Precinct 57, but he’s pretty damn notorious for his detective abilities – and he’s been in strenuous situations like this before. 

But, honestly? In his many cases, he’s never met anyone like you. The only god he’s met is Evrart Claire: a man masquerading as the god of the dock worker union’s corruption. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t revere you in the same way the others do – you carry somewhat supranatural power, you have an unnatural warmth about you, and others worship you – but Kim’s never been one to believe in gods, and he’s not about to start now. 

Sure, he felt your presence while in Revachol: some entity looking over his and Harry’s shoulders. Harry described you as “maybe some type of Dolores Dei,” but Kim knew you were more than a political figure somehow dubbed an Innocence.

(Kim looked down at the pinball machine. It was themed after the Dolorian Age – a time of early airships and beautiful, sad, pearl-laden women. He was glad it was broken. 

“How about we fire one of these bad boys up and play some ball?” Harry du Bois asked. He was the partner assigned to him by Kim and Harry’s competing precincts (the 41st and 57th, respectively).

“We can’t ‘fire them up,’ they’re broken,” Kim said. “Only that one machine in the main hall works. The Royalist Pinball.” his voice was ever-so-slightly laced with disgust at the name.

Harry laughed through his nose. “Sounds like you don’t enjoy pinball, Kim.”

Kim was almost too ready to reply. “No, I love it – I love pinball. Who doesn’t love pinball? Let’s move on.”

Their heads turned to the damp ceiling as they heard a quiet laugh. It wasn’t an actual laugh, mind you, not one they could really hear, but one they could feel resonate within themselves.

Kim and Harry looked at each other. They both decided, unspoken, that it was just the wind or the city or the rattling of this old brothel-hotel. But really, deep down, they both knew it was you.)

He’s always known everyone has the capability to murder, but the ease at which it’s committed here almost astounds him. He still keeps his cool, and (before you discover your powers) even defends you.

(It happens fast. You can do nothing but look down the barrel of the rifle. You can almost see the grooves on the inside. Its scope looks like a camera lens, focusing on you. It will take a picture of absolute destruction when the trigger is pulled. 

You hear Kim quickly whisper “God, please.” 

A shot rings out. It takes a moment to realize you’re not dead. Smoke rises from the barrel of his Kiejl A9 Armistice. Kim stands from his semi-crouched position. Your hands shake. His do not.)

It’s a shock when you find the grunts. Deimos and Sanford found you in a – what they thought was – an abandoned warehouse. They were clearing it out, trying to hide. You were too.

(You grip the handle of the broom closet door and try to keep your breath steady. Kim has his gun pointed at the door. You both know that if it opens, you’ll have nowhere to run.

“We know you’re here, bozo!” a voice rings out. They talk lowly to another person. You’re so pumped full of adrenaline you can’t recognize who it belongs to. 

Kim pulls the hammer of his gun back slowly, and it lets out a soft click. The conversation stops.

You’re good as dead.

An axe head crashes through the wooden door. You crumple into the corner. Kim backs into the wall. A hand reaches through and unlocks the door. Kim exhales sharply and shoots it. 

The owner of the arm screams. The next bullet clicks into place. Another arm, belonging to someone else, shoots through and flicks the door handle down. The door opens.

“Stop!” Kim shouts. He grips the gun harder. “I am an officer of the RCM, and have been permitted to use deadly force.”

They laugh and step closer to him. 

You look up to see two grey men. Through the shadows, you can see the one closer to you is wearing a durag and sunglasses. He has a natural pout that’s turned into a twisted smile.

“Sanford?”)

To say they’re overjoyed to see you would be an understatement. They could almost feel you in Nevada, and the wanted posters plastered with your face didn’t help with your poor attempt at stealth. But they were wary of the man you had brought with you, and made it very apparent.

(You barely managed to calm your nerves when you were sitting in the back of a pickup truck. Sanford immediately started the engine and drove. 

Deimos’ breathing was labored, and he clenched his bicep where he had been shot. And yet, he still talked. Some things never change.

“So.” You could hear him gritting his teeth. “Who’s the crackshot?”

“Kim Kitsuragi, Lieutenant of Precinct 57 of the RCM.” Kim answered for you. “And I apologize for shooting you. But I will not hesitate to do it again, if you present yourself as a danger.”

Deimos barked a laugh that was cut off by coughing. “Yeah, right.”

Kim opts to look out the window at the desolate landscape. The wind rolls in through a prominent crack, causing his orange aerostatic pilot jacket to ripple like water. 

Tension clouds the air like humidity.

“The, um,” you stutter. Deimos looks back at you. “RCM stands for the Revachol Citizen’s Militia. Kim knows how to shoot a gun, but he still knows how to holster it: he’s useful both as an officer and as a man. He is useful to us.”

Deimos turns forward. Sanford glances at you through the rearview mirror. If you say so…)

When you get back to base, it’s much of the same. Hank greets him as he does anyone else – with violence. Doc is more formal, of course. 

(“Lieutenant Kitsuragi.” Doc tries the name out on his tongue. It tastes like an old motorpool and authority – an authority he’ll barely respect, surely. “Just call me Doc, or 2B, if you like.”

“So you are the medic?” Kim asks. “What are your qualifications? If you don’t mind my asking.”

You shoot him a glance. There’s no strong-arming someone in Nevada unless you’re waterboarding them. This place doesn’t recognize your authority. Kim, we’re foreigners here – please, don’t do anything too rash.

Doc is curt. “I’m qualified enough.” 

“Yes, of course,” Kim says. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Now, if you’ll excuse us…” 

Kim starts to reach a hand towards your shoulder, but a hand shoots forward and grabs it. You look up. 

It’s Hank… the one man you were dreading introducing to Kim. You’re excited to see him nonetheless, but…

“Hank!” you exclaimed. His red goggles shined in the low light, glaring at Kim. He still held his wrist in a crushing grip. You eased his hand away, so he opted to hold yours instead. 

Kim glanced down at your hands. You could tell he was itching to ask many questions – probably about how you were able to ease the wrath of a psycho.)

Kim tries not to discuss the grunts to their faces. He does his best to keep up his professional persona, as draining as it may be. 

(It should’ve been night by now, but there was no sun in Nevada. You could only tell because of the moon rising in the sky and your biological day/night cycle. 

You sat on the steps leading up to the base. There were footsteps behind you. 

“I thought I told you, I’m gonna be okay. I’m just a few steps outside –”

“You did not tell me anything.”

Kim sits down on the steps beside you, but keeps a healthy distance. He has a feeling someone would know if he was too close, and promptly eviscerate him. 

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. It’s just that… this day…” you sigh.

Kim looks out at the horizon. “Yes, I understand. If I have too many more days like this, I may die prematurely. If I do not die in the line of fire first.”

He reaches into his jacket to pull out a single cigarette and a lighter. You smelt chestnuts when he lit it. He takes a deep pull and lets it settle in his lungs before breathing it out.

You watch the smoke dissipate. “So, what do you think? You like organizing your thoughts on paper. You written anything interesting?”

He brings out his blue Mnemotechnique notebook. Two fat, shiny pens hang from the binder like large caliber bullets hanging from an ammo belt. He flips through it, stopping on a page of importance. 

“Hm. Well, your men are very protective of you. I suppose that connection can only come with being one of your – how do you describe it? – ah, vessels. I understand the basics, but I don’t understand why it would inspire the need to revere you as they do.”

“It sounds freaky, but I can control them. I controlled Lieutenant du Bois. I protect them, and I guess that would deserve worship. Not that I want it, or anything.”

Kim scribbles something down in his journal. 

“So you were with us throughout everything?”

“Yeah. I remember most everything, too… especially standoff-style eyebrow raising matches.”

There was barely a crack of a smile on his face. That was the most you could ask for. 

“Still – those men are guard dogs. Be sure to keep them on a short leash, lest they do anything… unsavory.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Yessir, Lieutenant.”)

The grunts honestly don’t understand why you regard Kim as you do: why do you feel the need to have a man that’s practically an intruder in the base when you have them?

(“Yes, Lieutenant du Bois is… an interesting man,” you laugh. “But he’s Harry, and what more can you ask for?”

“A man with his memory intact would be a nice start,” Kim jokes, deadpan. You laugh harder and agree. 

Deimos cuts into the conversation. “So, what about you, Kim? What’s your background?”

He chose Kim’s first name on purpose, you think, so Kim knows he doesn’t respect his lieutenancy. But he has no interest in Kim’s personal life. Why does he ask?

“Well… I’m half-Seolite. Or – quarter. My father’s father was from Seol – so was my grandmother, but from my mother’s side…” he shakes his head. “But I’m still just a regular, garden-variety Revacholiere. I’m not an interesting topic.”

“Your police work,” Sanford says. “He’s asking about your police work.”

“Ah.” Kim thinks for a second. He’s choosing which cards he wants to reveal out of his entire hand. “Well, I was a juvenile officer for around fifteen years. I had a long-haul job, was successful, and moved into the homicide wing.”

Deimos is desperately trying to play nice. “And what was… this long-haul job?”

Kim spares a barely-detectable glance at you. “I’m not telling you that.”

Deimos sighs out a “Right…”)

They’re frustrated at Kim’s investigative nature, and at your willingness to appease it. They ask themselves constantly, what are his ulterior motives?, even though he has none. He never leaves you alone, and they interpret that as more of a “I’m in love with you,” type of way and less of a “You’re the only human I know, and I’m concerned for your safety. I want us both to get home – you to yours, and me to Revachol – but I’m scared we won’t be able to, though I would never admit it. Let’s stick together for now” type of way.

(“Doctor.” Kim greets Doc as he enters the room. 

“Lieutenant.” Doc’s eyes skip over him and fix on you. “Hey, do you have time to come into my office? I want to do a check-up – maybe learn more about the differences between our species.”

“Oh, okay.” you stand up from where you were sitting. “Maybe Lieutenant Kitsuragi can come with? So you can do a cross-examination.”

Doc is quick. “No.”

“It would be wise to do as they say,” Kim says. “You are a man of science, no? Science needs information. If you had twice the subjects, you would have twice the information.” 

Doc screws up his eyes behind his goggles. “Yes, I suppose you can come by later.”

“I’ve been meaning to have a look at your office and supplies. I would like to know what we have at hand.” Kim stands. “I can take a look while you do your examination.”

“I’d rather you not ferret through dangerous weapons and chemicals without direct supervision. I can bring you an organized list later.”

“C’mon, Doc.” you walk forward and turn him towards the door, letting your hand linger on his shoulder. “Lieutenant Kitsuragi knows what he’s doing – how else would he be so high in the RCM? He won’t make some bioweapon while you do a check-up. And he knows drugs: from a purely knowledge-based standpoint, of course.” you look over your shoulder. “What was that one, the – the d-something?”

Kim’s looking at where you touched Doc. His mind is racing with possibilities, taking too many mental notes to remember. “Diamorphine.”

“Yeah, diamorphine,” you look forward and start leading Doc outside. “See? He’s of stable mind, stable health, stable spirit. He even remembered what diamorphine was even though it was taken off the streets years ago!” you pull him closer. “He’s not that bad of a guy. A cop, sure, but he’s more of a detective anyway.”

Doc’s eyes flicker around the room. He’s flustered, yet you can barely tell. “I… alright. But I’ll be keeping my eyes on you. I don’t want you making some type of incurable disease.”)

God, and they get real fucking angry when you defend him. Why do you feel the need to do so? He’s obviously a non-player human, and he’s weak compared to grunts. 

(“Jeez, these are like magnifying glasses.” you say, peering into the lens of Kim’s glasses. “I’m glad you have them, otherwise we would’ve been dead meat when that guy decided to get smart with us.”

You’re just about to hand them back to him when Deimos swipes them from you. He brings them up to his face and laughs.

“God, you’re right!” he exclaims. “What are you, Kim, blind?”

Kim snatches them back and puts them back on. “No. I’m significantly farsighted.”

“Yeah, Deimos,” you say. “They’re just glasses.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know?” Deimos says. “Basically no one wears them here.”

“So you have amazing technology, but no one wears glasses?” Kim asks. 

You can foresee the argument blooming between them. “Almost everyone’s a clone here, Lieutenant. They have identical eyesight, along with identical… well, everything else. Except for personality, tastes, experiences, and the like.”

Kim hummed and wrote something down in his notebook. What you wouldn’t give to be able to take a look inside…  and be able to read his handwriting, of course. 

Deimos notices you staring at Kim. What he wouldn’t give to be able to slaughter him, right then and there… and be able to still build a relationship with you, of course.)

All in all, Kim’s a good companion: understanding, empathetic, and knows damn well how to shoot a gun. But here, he’s a target. He’s used to being one, and has been shot at plenty of times, but sleeping in the same base as four murderers, knowing one of them could knife him quietly in his sleep and blame it on raiders… he’d rather be home. Who wouldn’t?

He contemplates slipping away at night, sneaking out of a window or something like that. But he knows each person has their part to play in the world. His part was to solve crimes, now to stay by your side. He’s under no illusion that his role isn’t a minor one, in the grand scheme of things, but he embraces it because it’s his role. It’s the grunts’ too, whether they accept it or not. This story isn’t about them. It’s about you.

[saltymongoose]

Ok I got a request, its ok if you don't want to do it, I wont push you or force you:

so my request is what if Player had a giant scar on their back or on their side from an accident before meeting the main 4, like they got it from building something or helping a family member. So how would the main 4 react seeing a giant scar on player body and player still feels the pain a little bit. . .

That's all and... here...

Thank you for the frog gif, it's absolutely lovely lol. Here are your hcs!

Their Reaction to the Player having a Large Scar ft. The Main 3 + 2BDamned

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Mentions of Injury)

- [HANK J. WIMBLETON] -

It doesn't have to be said that Hank's been through a lot of fights, and his fair share of scars are a byproduct of that. So, he really isn't phased by you having a scar once he catches a glimpse of it. If anything, he's more curious about how you got such a large one in the first place. (Were you fighting some huge enemy back in your world? And how powerful was the thing if it could manage to injure you, of all people?)

That was before you made any mention of how your old injury still causes you pain, though. Hank's not the type to be worried about other people in general, but you're the one exception to that. He's not going to fret over you like a mother hen, but his concern will make itself known with how he refuses to let you strain yourself to do much of anything.

He's not very medically inclined (understatement, it's not like he even cares enough to patch himself up most of the time), so he's at a loss of what to do save for making it so you don't have to lift a finger for anything. In a way, this honestly kind of angers him, because he genuinely wants to be able to help you in any possible way, but he just…doesn't know how.

However, Hank's not one to beat around the bush if he wants something, so he'll likely just ask you directly if he can do anything to ease your residual pain. It doesn't matter if it's something that requires him to trek all the way across Nevada to get for you, or just some extra physical affection you want, he's pretty much at your beck and call if you think it will help you.

If you'd like, he's also willing to show off his own scars; he figures it's only fair since he saw yours. Neither of you mentions how his breath turns shallow when you trace a finger over the ones from more serious wounds.

(And, for the record, he would be very pissed off if you told him that you got it from helping a family member. It's unreasonable to blame them for the accident that caused this, but he will anyway. He's that delusional.)

- [SANFORD] -

Sanford is opposite to Hank in many ways here, namely in how he'll immediately get close to gauge the severity of your healed wound and ask about how badly it aches still. He's wary not to pry too much - as he doesn't want you to feel like you have to delve into anything traumatic - but he still wants to know if they (he) can do anything to help you.

You'll notice a sort of shift in his behavior after finding this out, and this is mainly seen in how he tries to make sure you don't have to do any difficult work or stress the part of your body where the scar is. He knows from personal experience how aches and pains can get triggered by this sort of thing, so he thinks he should assist you whenever he can.

He'll ease up if you ask him too of course, but you can get where he's coming from. If you were anyone else, he'd probably just leave you to deal with it on your own, but you're his Player; he can't justify allowing you to potentially cause yourself pain if he knows he can prevent it. That'd make him a bad vessel (and future partner, for that matter).

Although, when you tell him about how you got your scar, he immediately calms down a bit (grateful that it wasn't from an enemy or an intentional wound), it doesn't erase all of his concern. On one hand, he's happy that you didn't have to deal with the stress and fear that comes with someone trying to attack you, but the wound still happened regardless, so the thought still pains him. He doesn't want to imagine anything hurting you.

Sanford also gets it if you got your wound from helping a family member with something; he finds it relatable since he too has injured himself doing similar stuff for his folks as well. He'll give you this look of deep understanding when you refer to the cause, one that would almost be comical if the topic weren't so distressing.

- [DEIMOS] -

Deimos' reaction to seeing your scar is to freeze and go completely silent for a moment - he never expected to see something like that marring your flesh. However, while he internally breaks down into worry, he won't outwardly have much of a reaction in that moment. He doesn't want to bring up anything or make you feel self-conscious, so he'll probably just act like he never saw anything to begin with. It takes you mentioning it directly to pull his full thoughts from him.

He's a bit tentative about this whole thing oddly enough; perhaps it's just the discomfort at the idea of you being hurt, but he'll try to gloss over the seriousness of it to whatever degree he can. If this includes showing off a large scar of his and joking about how you match, then that's just how it is.

Like Sanford, he definitely loses some of his stress over this when you mention how this isn't from someone hurting you purposefully, or you getting into a tussle over something. Although he laxes up a lot more, and will relegate any worry to simply asking if you'd like his help when he sees you doing something. Sometimes he'll insist though, especially if it involves lifting anything heavy.

(A chance to flex his strength and do some service for his Player? It'd be stupid for him not to take it.)

Provided you aren't uncomfortable with it, Deimos will make jokes about your scar and how "badass" it makes you look.

If he was the first to find out about it, he'll make up long, elaborate explanations that you 'told him' about how you got it. It includes everything from a battle between gods (you being one of them) to you heroically saving some damsel in distress from a terrible beast. They aren't believable at all, but they aren't supposed to be. He just wants to make you laugh.

- [2BDAMNED] -

Despite not being an actual medic by any means, 2BDamned's reaction to seeing your scar is to ask what it's from and how it healed. He's also quite perceptive, so it only takes him seeing a sliver of your skin to call it out. Privately, of course, he doesn't want to push you on intimate matters in front of the others (especially if he didn't think they knew about it).

Really, Doc wants to know everything possible about it that you'd be willing to tell him about your old wound; it's important information, he reasoned since he wants to find out more about humans (you) in general, and someone has to be competent enough to care for your medical needs here.

Never mind how worried it made him to see it; it's hard to tell because of his mask, but he had to do a double-take when he caught a glimpse of it, and his horror only grew once you confirmed his concerns. Doc also knows that humans are generally more fragile compared to grunts at this point too, which just amplifies this feeling.

He's the first to ask if you need any scar cream or pain meds of any type to alleviate any discomfort you have - whether it be from the soreness of your old wound or the way it looks - and he'll get said medications as soon as possible. He'll also offer to help you apply whatever it is if it's a topical medication of some kind. If you'd like him to, of course.

While a part of him is relieved that the wound your scar was born from wasn't given to you purposefully, this becomes a sidenote to him more than anything. He wants to know what he can do for you here and now, with your residual pain and discomfort being his top priority.

He also won't even mention it around the others, as he thinks it's a private topic. Whether you show it off or not is immaterial; he views yours as similar to his own facial scars and thinks it would be better to just treat it as a completely normal thing instead of making a huge deal out of it. (Once he knows it's history and how to help you with it's lasting effects, of course. What else would you expect from one of your most competent vessels?)

Plus, your history and any past wounds are only yours to discuss anyway. He merely wants to be there for you to rely on, so he hopes you know that you can come to him for anything - scar related or not. It's the least he can do in return for all that you've brought to his life.

[yanderes-galore]

I loved headcanons with Sanford and Deimos with a sibling, can do a similar thing with yandere!2bdamned but with a darling!daughter (platonic of course!!!), it's funny because every time I think of Doc I can't stop seeing him as a dad friend of the group

I guess he is kind of a dad, lol. Shorter than I wanted but it's honestly pretty cryptic.

Original 2BDAMNED Concept

Yandere! Platonic! 2BDamned with Darling who's his kid

Short Concept

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Overprotective behavior, Drugging mention, Isolation, Jealousy implied, 2B is a twisted dad, Manipulation, Darling's origin is vague.

2B is a yandere that takes a long time to form an obsession normally due to his job.

He's always busy and struggles with personal connections.

But with you already being his kid?

It just skips half of his obsession time since he's known you even before he was shoved this job.

Per usual he's skilled in hiding his obsession.

It's easier with you since you're probably used to his behavior and think it's normal.

2B can get away with a lot if you're his kid.

Father knows best, right?

His protective behavior just feels like dad behavior.

There's obvious reasons he keeps you in the lab!

His lies to you aren't manipulation... he's looking out for you.

He also keeps you away from people like Hank simply because they could hurt you!

2B has a much easier time controlling you if you're his kid.

He's taken care of you since you were young.

Your home has always been in his lab.

You barely have time to converse with the others as he sends them away on missions so quickly.

There's a good chance your birth may have been through cloning since you... can't seem to remember anything but the lab?

He may have also just drugged you if you misbehaved, it's impossible to say.

I feel 2B is actually worse as a dad.

This is because he has so much more control over you.

2B is all you know.

You've been able to chat with the others at times but for the most part but 2B usually calls you back over.

Hank's silent around you but appears to enjoy your company since he's so comfortable around 2B.

Deimos likes to tease you and Sanford treats you like a younger sibling at times.

2B tolerates them around you... but ultimately likes you alone with him.

2B feels comfort when he knows you're beside him.

He could be hard at work and you just hugging him or standing beside him makes him calm.

2B appears to be mentally distant at times, often coming across as grumpy.

However... 2B does offer affection.

There's times where 2B hugs you and strokes your back.

You have your own room in the lab.

2B often tries to have you help him with work to keep you entertained.

Even as a dad he still struggles to understand kids... but loves you dearly.

Others will notice 2B's strange behavior before you.

Deimos often comments to the others that 2B is a bit... obsessive.

No one in the group but 2B knows when you've been outside last.

You don't even recall an outside.

That's all 2B's business.

You shouldn't want to go outside if Jeb and Tricky are out there anyways.

You could say 2B's restricting your freedoms... that's what the others say

2B reasons that you're happy with him.

You haven't wanted to go outside so why force you....

Doesn't help that he wipes your memory.

The others don't get to parent you in 2B's mind.

That means they don't have a say in how he treats you.

You love him, that's all that matters.

He means every hug... he means every word he says to you.

You should only need him since he's the one who take cares of you.

2B would actually break his composure if you went outside with one of the others.

He's normally so calm... so stoic towards everyone.

He actually begins to show fear before hunting you down.

If one of the others took you out... 2B is tempted to kill them.

He holds back, however.

He brings you back inside his lab, scolds you, and locks the others out for awhile.

2B is controlling, obviously.

He wants full control of his kid and isn't really one for you making friends.

Nevada doesn't have many good grunts for friends anyways... so just listen to him.

2B keeps his kid oblivious.

If you ever got hurt, he patches you up.

If you ever cried, he cheers you up.

If he found out who hurt you, they're a dead grunt.

2B tries to be a caring dad.

In your eyes he IS a caring dad, he's just made you too oblivious to know the truth of his actions

[ctghost]

╰﹒MC MASTERLIST

→ MADNESS COMBAT (6)

(Edited: 7/8/23)

Multiple Characters:

-

Hank J. Wimbleton

Yandere Hank with ex-AAHW agent darling headcanons/short

Platonic general Hank headcanons

General Hank Dating & Marriage headcanons

Sanford

Yandere sanford headcanons

Deimos

-

2BDamned

-

Jebediah Christoff

-

Dr. Hofnarr/Tricky

Tricky with darling who has insomnia headcanons

Sheriff

-

The Hive

Yandere Hive headcanons

@redamoureux

[creatorthegod]

Yandere Madcom x reader

[enderpearlll]

Yandere! 2Bdamned headcanons.

A set of general headcanons for everyone’s favourite doctor. DNI if you don’t like yandere content.

I hate cross posting so much. This is hard.

TW/CW: Yandere content, toxic behaviour, mentions of drugs, threats of murder, etc…

• Catching the eye of 2B is a near impossible task, seeing as he was always buried in work or too unbothered to care about any future relationships with anyone. So when you, a random grunt, joins the team; 2B doesn't know what to expect. He wasn't one to get close with others, so him and the team weren't very close other than the whole doctor thing.

• Now you on the other hand, you were a very interesting specimen... You were talkative like Deimos, but not as irritating. Not nearly as strong as Sanford, but not to be underestimated, seeing as you can put up against the former in arm wrestling. You and Hank didn't talk much, but 2B knew Hank long enough to know that you had at least left an impression on him, seeing as he could remember your name.

• All in all, you were like the 'glue' of the team, in a way. It was intriguing. Harmless curiosity slowly festered as you began to grow on the doctor. You were always respectful and cordial towards 2B, something that was rare around Nevada nowadays. You usually came into the lab for a friendly conversation or to check up on him, it certainly was a nice change of pace.

• He actually found himself enjoying your company quite a bit, anticipating your little visits everyday. You told him about yourself, who you were before the whole mercenary gig, etc... 2B would often be working or seemed nonchalant whenever you spoke, offering one worded responses or a simple shake of the head. He seemed so uncaring and cold, but in reality he was absorbing everything you said.

• 2B had done 'research', dedicating precious work hours to recording data about you. This is where it began to go down hill; where your doctor-patient relationship had deranged into something more intimate. It ranged from some harmless info, like your favourite colour, favourite food, etc... But there's more detailed information that no one else knew about you, things that you've never told any one else.

• 2B began to actively yearn for your presence, opting to work on a tablet rather than his office so he can work and be around you at the same time. You and the others (minus Hank) are stunned by this. 2B was rarely seen outside of his lab, and now here he was sitting with you. You all were confused at the change of pace, because usually you had to seek out the doctor, not the other way around.

• After a brief moment of disbelief, 2B stiffly sits next to you and scowls at the other two through his mask. "Don’t you two have work to do?” The two quickly make their leave, eager to ditch the tension-filled room. You're left alone with 2B, awkwardly fidgeting with your fingers as you sit in silence. 2B is tapping away at his work tablet, before turning to face you sharply. You flinch and immediately stand up, ready to run off to do your work.

• But 2B shakes his head and points to the seat next to him, an odd look in his eyes. "Sit. Talk." You exhaled deeply, genuinely surprised at his forward attitude. Usually he seemed annoyed of your presence but now he wanted to be around you? It was rather flattering.

• You are the only person he'll treat with kindness, and it's evident in the way his gaze softens when he gazes at you. The way his fingers linger on your skin when he patches you up, like you're delicate porcelain in his hold. His soft smile is reserved only for you; Hell, you're the only one who's ever seen his face. And it takes a lot of trust for him to even give someone a glimpse of his face.

• Eventually you began to get more friendly with the doctor, fooling around with him like you do with Sanford and Deimos. 2B is admittedly very touch starved, so when you wrap your arms around him or play with his hair he literally melts. Sometimes you'll even press chaste kisses to his fingers, a stupid grin on your face as he flushes red. His reactions are so cute, how could you resist teasing him?

• 2B is so accustomed to being the star of your attention, that when you show the same affection to Sanford or Deimos he grows envious. Mind you, someone even sending a glance in your direction is infuriating— But to show someone the affection that belongs to him is nearly intolerable. He's on the verge of snapping his tablet in half when he sees you playing around with the others.

• 2B is... Greedy, as much as he hates to say it. He's sacrificed so much for the team, the AAHW, you... Doesn't he deserve a bit of self-indulgence? He’s not below using others to get what he wants, not at all.

• The others notice the change in Doc's work, the roughness of his touch and the lack of prestige. You're always the first to get a check up, and you'll always take the longest since 2B stalls to keep you with him. The others are given a simple glance and then some pain killers.

• You barely have any time to get work done around the base since 2B calls you in for checkups all the time, especially when you have to do tasks involving others. When the team is blessed with some free time, it's spent with Doc. He purposely leaves you out of missions so he can keep you with him at the base. You like Doc, but you thought this was getting out of hand. You were apart of the team too, you couldn't just let 2B give the others all of your work so you two can hangout.

• It gets to a point where you barely see the others around anymore, stuck in the lab 24/7. So when you finally snap at him, all 2B can do is grit his teeth and bite back his reasoning.

• Can’t you see he’s doing this for you? He turns away from his paperwork, unclipping the clasps of his mask. Tossing it onto the desk, he inhales sharply and pinches the bridge of his cross. He stands up, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

• “Sit down. You’re being irrational.” 2B says casually, like he’s talking to a child. You scowl and march up to him, face twisted with anger. “Make me, doctor. You can’t. I’m leaving if you don’t let me do my damn job.” You snarl, crossing your arms and glaring at him. 2B grunts and shoves you down onto the arm chair, with a force that you’ve only seen in battle. You feel your heart beating out of your chest, fear written in your eyes.

• You knew 2B wouldn’t dare to hurt you, but the disconnected look in his eyes could only tell you other wise. Oh, if only you could tell that the doctor felt terribly heartbroken. His brows were furrowed as he picked up a syringe filled with morphine; giving the barrel of the syringe a flick as he let out any air bubbles. 2B turns to you with a stern look in his eye, pulling you towards him by the collar of your shirt.

• 2B leans in close to you, his breath unbearably hot on your ear. You couldn’t move, clutching onto the chair for dear life. You knew you had a good chance against him, but the syringe was dangerously close to your neck. “This, my dear, is morphine.” 2B’s hand trails from your shirt to trace along your pulse. “More than two-hundred milligrams could kill you.”

• “And I’d hate to see the others die so soon, especially since you’re so close…” You feel his gloved hand guide your chin to face him, faces closer than you would like. The slightest movement could send your lips crashing together. “Without someone to bring them back, I’m sure you’d miss them dearly, right?” 2B chuckles breathlessly.

• You shut your eyes tight when he pressed his thumb into your pulse, low laughter rumbling through his chest. “Your pulse is quicker, should I be flattered?” The doctor teases, his scarred mouth twisting into a sadistic grin. You’re sure that you look fearful, from the way his eyes gleam with curiosity. “Oh, what happened? You were so feisty earlier…” 2B says jeeringly, tracing his thumb over your lower lip.

• “Doc, please.” You murmur, clasping onto the front of his jacket. Finally, he releases the pressure on your neck. It’s like flipping a switch; instantly his expression turns cold and the grin on his face fades quickly. “I’m sorry, but you’ve got to understand that you’re my priority.” 2B tugs the gloves off of his hands, flexing his fists nonchalantly. “I resort to drastic measures to protect what I care about.”

• 2B presses his hands to your face, a quiet purr rumbling in his chest. “You understand, right?”Swallowing thickly, you nodded weakly in agreement. “Because at the end of the day, you’re the most important thing in my life. No one else matters but you.”