#SOMEONE COME SEDATE ME LMAO | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inklore · 3 years

Text

poison on your tongue.

premise: ransom comes to visit you in the middle of the night to sedate his hunger.

pairing: vampire!ransom drysdale x (f)reader

warnings: restraints / semi bondage, blood drinking, sort of dubcon, unprotected sex, yandereish, dirty talk, maybe somnophilia a little bit, sweetheart endearment used. reminder: you are in control of your reading consumption so if you don’t vibe with any of the above please do not go on. 18+ only.

word count: 1.2k

etc: uhhh, i had like several different versions of this in my head and went with the most fucked up one. but like there was a sub!ransom one where ransom is fed blood the more he begs for it, an enemies to lovers feeding off of someone together one, and a few other ones so like let me know if y’all would want me to ever write those thots out someday lmao.

♱ kinktober 11.

You don’t hear him when he slips through your door. Or when he’s removed the blankets from your body, the cool air of your dark room barley making you stir in your slumber. You only realize that he’s in your bedroom, like so many nights before, when you feel him tying your wrists together with your top, leaving your chest exposed to him, your shorts and panties soon following suit. His knee is between your legs keeping you spread and open for him. The heavy musk of his fancy cologne and the smell of copper burning your nose at his proximity to your body.

If you would of heard him you might of ran, grabbed the crucifix at the side of your bed. Even if the act would of been futile. Anything to keep him from sinking his fangs into you, taking from you like he has done so many other nights. You becoming one of Ransom’s most favorite snacks.

“Why?” You ask, no pleading to be found in your voice. No weary. You’ve been here so many times before. You weren’t scared of him anymore, not of what he was at least. Your only fear was your impending death you were sure was soon to come. Ransom constantly feeding on you, taking from your body to replenish his own in a sick hunger, doing your body no favors. At least when he was away for too long. As if your body couldn’t survive without his teeth in your neck, your thigh, your mound. As if your body could only function with the blood loss rather than without it. It craving Ransom to take from it, to devour it in a hungry kiss that left you shaking and spent and weak. You just didn’t understand why he had chosen you to be plagued with such torture.

Ransom hums against your skin as his lips kiss at your hips, his tongue licking the area you know he’s prepping to sink into. Making your skin more raw and supple, to hurt more. “Why what, sweetheart?” He humors you, looking up at you through his lashes, smiling against your skin.

“Why me? You could use anyone for your own personal blood bag. Why me?” Ransom’s chuckle makes your stomach tighten and bitterness grow. He leans up, one hand grabbing your tied wrists and moving them at a better angle above your head. The other resting at your hip, nail digging into the skin he was just playing with.

His mouth is inches from yours, his fangs now visible, sharp, taunting. “Because, you’re delicious.” His smirk makes you glare up at him. “No one tastes as good as you do. You’re so sweet and tender, and know all the right spots to hit, not just when I’m hungry.” You feel his knee rub against your bare cunt, your breath hitching in the back of your throat. “I knew from the first time I felt your blood touch my tongue, and your cunt around my cock that one bite would never be enough.” His mouth hangs open hungrily as he watches you try not to moan or wither against him. Your hands balled into fists, your glare soon turning heavy and hooded with lust. “I crave you.” It comes out as a growl before his mouth comes down on yours, your body responding to him without any thought or coercion.

His teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he kisses you roughly, your hiss vibrating off of his blood coated lips as he pulls away. Gaze never leaving yours as he licks your blood off of his mouth. The surface wound making your bottom lip pound. Ransom bringing the hand at your hip up to the small wound he’s made, uses two fingers to collect the blood there and puts them into your mouth. “Suck,” he demands. “I want you to taste how sweet you are.” And you don’t hesitate to listen, wrapping your lips around his digits and licking and sucking around them, cleaning your own blood off of his fingers. The bitter taste of copper covering your tastebuds with malice and pleasure. Your muffled moans bringing a smile to Ransom’s face.

Your brain already filling with the haze of pleasure and need from Ransom to the point where you almost find yourself begging him to get it over with; take from you, litter your skin with bite marks and blood. It always ending the same way, your body’s need taking over and ignoring any protest of ill feelings you have towards the man. His tongue leaking poison into your body, claiming you as his, making you crave his animalistic ways. Turning your body on a dime easily, just for him.

He takes his time with you, keeps you on the precipice before he finally gives you what your body is keening for, what it’s been programmed to need from him ever since that first bite. And when he finally sinks his teeth into your hip the strangled moan you let out is music to his ears. Your body shooting with a pain that turns into lust and arousal the more he takes from you. The more you feel him suck at your skin draining you of the very thing that helps keep you alive. Ransom moving up your body leaving a trail of bloodied skin and bite marks in his wake. The intensity of his fangs only heightening your bodies ache when he bites into your neck, your body arching off the mattress. Your body fighting itself to not push Ransom off and instead pull him closer. The pleasure he’s poisoned your body to feel for him always winning.

“Should I just feed off you tonight, or should I fuck you as well, sweetheart?” His tongue licks at the wound he’s just made, “should I drain you until you’re too weak and use your cunt until I’ve refilled you with my cum?” He’s leaving kissing up your neck, smearing blood along your earlobe and cheek, “What does my little blood bag want?”

The needy groan you let out paired with the vigor in your hips bucking against his knee is all he needs for an answer, your body already too fucked from his mouth and constant taste of copper each time you swallow. And soon enough Ransom has his cock inside of you and the mewls that fall from your lips are loud and repetitive as he does just what he said he was going to do; drain you until your vision is blurry, your head woozy from the loss of blood and intense pleasure of his mouth and cock. Your body lulling and succumbing to Ransom fully as he fucks you like a rag doll.

“You’re so beautiful like this, cock drunk and drained. Your body weak but your mind and cunt still craving me, still begging for more, for my cum.” He’s kissing your mouth and you try to keep up with his lips, can taste your own blood on his tongue. It’s so wrong what Ransom has done to you, you know you could put up a fight, use reinforcement. But you know it’s too late for that, your body signing an invisible contract with Ransom the first time your flesh met the euphoric pleasure of his bite. Your body, mind and soul now owned by a devilish man who would take and take from you until there was nothing left. “So happy I found you, sweetheart.” Ransom grunts against your skin, sinking his teeth into you one last time before your vision goes dark and you cum around his cock.

#ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #kinktober #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #dark!ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale one shot #kinktober ‘21 #𖤐 kinktober 𖤐 #*heat leveled*#*trigger check*#**

350 notes · View notes

whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can I ask for a continuation to the supervillain finds drugged and terrified villain on doorstep? Maybe (idk where you’d wanna take it but ig this is just a suggestion) sorta fluff but the villain is terrified of supervillain? Idk where im getting at lmao just write what you wanna write and have fun with it :)

Of course! Thank you both for the asks. I loved that prompt and found it really cute. This one has about the same balance of fluff and angst as the first part, so I really hope you enjoy!

Continued from here.

CW//Medical mentions, past trauma, past drowning, past torture, injuries, food

The medics had left far too quickly.

At least, that was Supervillain's impression of the situation. Only perhaps half an hour after they had been called, their medical team had arrived in full force. Upon the injured villain they had swarmed like flies, with stethoscopes and thermometers and tools that their boss had no clue at all how to identify.

And then, they were gone. The leader of the team made a full report on Villain's injuries, and the care that they would require. Strangulation wounds, malnutrition, half-healed frostbite, and, of course, the beginnings of hypothermia had all stricken the heroes' victim.

But, so the leader had stated, none of these afflictions would require hospitalization. In fact, hospitalization would have likely produced a more negative outcome. With weakened lungs, on account of repeated and merciless strangulation attempts, even the most common of hospital-borne respiratory illnesses could send them to the grave. After all, the whole purpose of a hospital was for it to be full of sick people.

That was all that they had said, before piling up into their emergency response vehicle and leaving the premises.

Leaving Supervillain alone with nothing but a page of written instructions, and a half-dead Villain upon their couch.

Would it have been simple to pass the job onto a henchman? Or even better, a villain with genuine medical knowledge? Perhaps. But every last villain had scrambled off into hiding, and as smart as their henchmen were, this was not their responsibility.

It was the responsibility of a leader to take care of their sick.

And that was exactly how Supervillain had ended up in their kitchen, gingerly spreading butter of two pieces of steaming toast. Though the scent of freshly-toasted bread was nearly irresistible, the food was not for them. The whole situation had left them far too nauseous to even consider food.

But Villain was starving.

Placing down the knife into their sink with a clatter, Supervillain took the plate in one hand, and a topped-off glass of water in the other. They had taken the liberty of warming it-- though a cool glass of water may have been a mercy to some, to the pyrokinetic, it would have, in the best case scenario, caused discomfort. In the worst... Well, they didn't know.

After all, they weren't a doctor.

But, doctor or not, public enemy number one still moved gingerly across their kitchen floor, through the hallways, and all the way to the room where their new, accidental, ward had been settled. So it seemed, the medical examination they had been through had drained whatever energy that Villain had had remaining, seeing as afterwards they had immediately passed out upon the couch. Given that Supervillain was far from the kind of host to allow their guest to sleep on the couch, they had-- gently, of course-- carried them to one of the home's many spare room, and settled them upon a bed.

When Supervillain had left the room, Villain had been neatly tucked beneath the covers, snoring peacefully, if not a little shallowly.

Now, when they entered, toast and water in hand, the bed was empty. Instead, the sheets lay bare, blanket torn away.

They soon discovered why. As slight as the movement was, it was not difficult to tell that the blanket laid in a corner was breathing. The slightest flutter of sympathy danced within their chest-- why was their ward hiding?

"Villain?" They did their very best to make their voice quiet, hospitable, even though they were neither of those things. "I brought food. Are you hungry?"

There was no reply.

Supervillain realized in that moment that, throughout Villain's entire, brief, stay in the home, they had yet to speak a single word. Come to think of it, actually, they had hardly even been awake earlier. Though the medics hadn't believed a blood test to be necessary, the effects of heavy sedation were rather obvious.

This was the first time that Villain was awake, and they had awoken alone. Dammit.

With a soft clack, they set the plate and the glass upon a bedside table, moving towards the shuddering blanket in the corner. The combination of wool socks and carpeted floor made their footsteps almost silent, leaving the room quiet as they knelt down before the blanket. Up close, it was rather simple to see the form of the villain that had hidden themself beneath it.

As much as they would have liked to leave Villain alone and to their own devices, according to the doctor's words, 'they won't be able to survive on their own for a while.' They would need a caretaker, and, through chance alone, Supervillain had wound up in that role.

They grabbed the bottom of the blanket first, about where Villain's feet would be, and gently began to drag it off of their form. As soon as their head was uncovered, they stopped, leaving the fleece to protect the rest of their body.

Anyone could tell that Villain had been crying, sobbing, even. Half of their face was covered in dried tears, cheeks red and eye whites a similar color. As soon as their face was revealed, they struggled to cover it with their hands, revealing the shivering in their limbs.

"Hey, hey." Supervillain reached a hand slowly forth, but stopped short of actually laying it upon Villain, believing that that likely wouldn't aid in their terrified state. "You're okay. I know you're scared, I know. But you escaped. You... You can tell me how you did that later. But you're safe, now. You're in my house.

It's me. It's Supervillain."

That only served to send another wave of terrified shivering through their body, as though they had been struck by a cane.

"If you don't want to talk, I won't make you, okay? But you're hurt. Will you at least drink some water?"

It was as though an emotional grenade had gone off.

In an instant, Villain curled in on themself, burying their face in their knees and curling almost to a fetal position.

"No no no no please no- Please, no. Please let me breathe please I'll behave please not the water please please please no no no."

Supervillain stopped, and noted with a start something they had not made much notice of beforehand: When Villain first arrived, their upper body had been soaking wet.

Someone had tried to drown them.

"Villain." They struggled not to allow their to crack, but fury and sorrow combined were making that a nearly impossible task. "No one is going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you ever again, okay?"

From the tear-stained blanket, Villain lifted their head, shaking, pinprick pupils staring up at them.

"T-Then." They sniffled. "Then why are you here?"

#villain whumpee #supervillain caretaker #hero whumper #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #whump scenario #hero villain whump #hero x villain #hero villain prompt #hero villain writing

271 notes · View notes

suffering-and-happy-about-it · 2 years

Text

So I have a thing or two I’d like to say here.

As everyone knows, season 2 of HBO’s Euphoria is soon to arrive and honestly, I can’t wait. That shit is soon to arrive on screens and I have a love/hate relationship with it. Let me elaborate and explain.

My reason for being in this relationship with the series is not for the reason so many other people state - the reason being that Euphoria is oversexualizing young teenagers, draws unreal expectations about drugs and mental illness any of real people are unable to meet them.

I sure agree with all of the above, but while I agree with it, it by no means is unreal. have one tiny problem with that reason.

For me, it’s more or less a collection of unhappy stories I’ve already seen throughout my life. Lemme elaborate. Without fucking around, I can say that yes, the show has too much fucking glamour, but everything in it is real as shit. Living in one of the biggest ghettos in my republic, I saw a lot of fates ending in this sad, sad way.

I had friend who was under sedation all the time and hit me up at three am to tell me she’s sitting on her floor about to call her wrists.

Another friend was diagnosed with bipolar. I had another friend who was using pervit*ne on the daily, before school and after it.

I dated someone who was connected into one of the dealing systems producing various stuff.

I was coming home beaten (since local kids bullied me on elementary) with my cheek swollen at times and I’m carrying a knife and pepper spray everywhere since then.

I know a girl who lost her virginity at 11 and got pregnant at 14, I know another one who got pregnant in our senior year while using hero*ne.

My neighbour’s got lost and she has been missing for 3 years now, may she rest in heaven.

And I can continue if you wish me to.

Yes, Euphoria is creepy as shit. It’s weird as hell. It’s straightaway fucked up. But for some people, that’s the way it all works. Please, don’t tell me it’s all unreal and for all I care, think that I’m lying about what I just told you.

But please, pretty please, don’t tell me those “have you seen teenagers? They’re not like that at all lmao” or “this had never happened in my neighbourhood, never seen anything like that”. Because I’ve been there. I’ve seen it all. And I wish not to go back there, now that I’m 20 and kind of a responsible adult who has a job, is studying at uni and has a loving boyfriend. For some, Euphoria is a way to look back into our former lives, promising not to ever get back there again.

Stay safe, stay sober and have safe s*x. I love you and I care about your well-being. That lifestyle isn’t worth it.

#euphoria #hbo euphoria #season 2 #lessgooo

8 notes · View notes

drxwsyni · 4 years

Note

Meow meow I think soft dom Dabi hits so different because he is such a harsh person? He SCREAMS "I will fuck you then end you. Sluts like you are a dime a dozen." But image his darling flinching in bed at his approach and his voice goes soft and says something like "Babydoll be good for your man. I just want to play a little and make us both feel good." And gently patting their head or stroking their cheek. "That's a good baby~" he hums calming them down before getting busy -Kitty Cat anon =^_^=

Honestly, kitty cat anon, the main reasons I like soft yan dabi is cause 1. I’m embarrassingly touch starved, 2. I need constant reassurance but also someone who would gently take the lead in a relationship, and 3. I feel as depressed as he looks so we kinda match lmao. Writing him in this style is very self indulgent. Take this drabble for your efforts hun (also hhh that imagine is very nice ty)

_____

There was something missing―but you couldn’t quite place what exactly it was.

A piece of information, or a distant understanding for your life, and with it certain reservations. As time went on you slowly lost the ability to grasp that ghost of a past concern. And now, gazing into those deep cerulean eyes, the effort you would use to reach for those fading thoughts left you completely.

But even still, despite not knowing why you flinched at his touch, the reaction seemed to be something ingrained into you from a time that you couldn’t recall.

“Hey. You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

Of course you knew that. He never had, but you still hesitated to accept him. And every time you did, he was patient. Compassionate and attentive, moving slowly to ease your nerves, honeyed words having a warmly sedating effect.

Heart beating lightly in your chest, you laid comfortably on the bed sheets underneath him. The anxiety persisted.

“I know.”

Dabi smiled gently, a hand coming to lightly caress your cheek. A soothing motion that had you gradually melting into his warm and inviting touch.

“So...how about you let me take care of you then? Can you do that for me?”

Nervously, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, averting your eyes from his searching look. You knew he would never do anything unless you gave him permission. It was partly the reason you were so tense―having to admit the obvious fact that you needed him more that he probably knew.

But, with the way he looked at you, something told you such words of admittance weren’t necessary. Dabi knew you better than you knew yourself.

Still too anxious to directly regard him, you could only offer a small nod. With your eyes trained anywhere but him, you missed the look of pure adoration for you that enveloped his features. The hand on your cheek coaxed you to tilt your head to face him, and barely a moment later, his lips pressed softly into yours.

Just like every time before spent so close to him, a surge of emotions bubbled inside you. Slight apprehension, somehow accompanied by a comfort that made your heart race and butterflies flutter in your stomach. You never knew how to react, and so you had no other choice but to let Dabi take the reins, which he would always do without you needing to ask.

His lips parted from yours, and he proceeded to leave a trail of light pecks along your jawline. When he made it to the shell of your ear, you shuddered slightly at the sensitive feeling you received from his breath hitting your skin.

He laughed slightly. Quiet, it being more like a breathy exhale at the way you reacted so honestly to his actions. And he adored it―pulling all those endearing responses from you. The way it made him feel, how his typically cold heart swelled at just the mere sight of you, told him exactly why he put so much effort into caring for you.

Dabi loved you with everything in his being, and nothing would stop him from making sure you got all the care and attention you deserved.

And so he spoke low, a near purr that had you melting even further. A delicateness he’d only show to you, one full heartedly sincere and devoted.

“Just relax, babydoll. You’ll always be safe with me.”

#man i've really gotta sit down and do a soft dabi oneshot jesus chdsajda #softpost #drxwsyni asks #kitty cat anon #yandere bnha #yandere dabi

485 notes · View notes

kiwikyuu · 3 years

Text

━━━━━━━━ all the different shades of orange ; hinata shōyō

summary — whoever said that hinata shōyō is a ball of sunshine is a liar

word count — 3k

genre — imagine ; kinda enemies to lover, fluff

warning(s) — major spoilers about spring interhigh for those of you who haven't read the manga, insults thrown around, kinda out of character hinata, cursing, not edited

a/n — okay but have y'all seen e2l hinata shōyō besides kagehina lmao because i haven't and thought it'd be interesting to try out. also wow i have never put so much effort into a work like this one (hopefully it reaches a lot of people and you can all find some joy in reading!)

❝ WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING NEXT TIME, YOU ROTTEN BELL PEPPER. ❞

Hate was a strong word but the flaring anger in your heart and overwhelming urge to run into a wall whenever your eyes landed on that tangerine said otherwise. It wasn't that you went out of your way to dislike someone that has everyone wrapped around their finger. It just so happened that you had no tolerance for bullshit, and Hinata Shōyō pissed you off in every way possible.

It started on the first day of high school.

Walking beside Minari, a friend from middle school, the two of you were eager to leave the building. The idea of grabbing steamed buns had unraveled itself in your mind, and what better way to enjoy food than by sharing?

"Are you going to try out for any clubs?" Your elbow bumped against hers as you two walked the slowly emptying hallway. "I think I saw the girls soccer team holding tryouts soon."

Minari shrugged, but you could already see the thoughts pinging in her mind. "I might if I can."

See, the two of you had almost reached the staircase when it happened. Minari's long hair covered her view from time to time, so you were used to looking out for her while chastising the girl about the usefulness of a hairband. But what you didn't expect as you pulled the girl aside just as a gaggle of guys rushed by was the full strength of a short orange-haired boy catching you off guard and nearly sending you tumbling down the flight of stairs.

"I'm sorry! I - I didn't see you there!" He shouted, his hand coming out to latch instinctively onto your school uniform before you could be thrown back far. "And on the first day too... I'm so sorry! Please accept my apology."

You stared at the short boy standing before you looking positively green with anxiety and guilt. Minari was already calming him down with mentions of accepting his apology, but all you could focus on was the pounding beat of your heart and the tingling feeling in your legs from your near-fatal experience.

"Watch where you're fucking going next time, you rotten bell pepper," you muttered before pushing his fingers off your now wrinkled white shirt.

You had walked away first, Minari in tow, but not before catching the shine of his name tag, 'Hinata Shōyō,' and the wide-eyed stare on his face that sent shivers down your back.

From that day forward, every flash of orange around the school seemed to be followed by a glare on your end and a roll of eyes on his.

"You're in the way, pumpkin head." Your words cut through the chattering hallway and sliced at Hinata who in turn threw you a pointed look, something that all the First Year students knew by now was reserved for only you. "I'm trying to get to the library, but somebody's walking too slow. Aren't you supposed to be on the volleyball team?"

Hinata scoffed, but stepped aside to let you through. Dirty looks were all he had in his armory apparently as time after time after sending an insult or two his way, he held his tongue. You liked to think it was because he didn't have the proper brain cells to form a response, but sometimes you wondered if you were being too much.

Up ahead, Minari waved at you to hurry before all the seats at the library were taken. Shaking yourself of your thoughts, you walked over to her. Unbeknownst to you, while you shouldered your bag, your wallet tipped over and fell out at a certain somebody's feet.

Hinata picked up your ratty wallet, noticing it on the floor, and went to call out to you before catching himself. What did he care? Still, unable to ignore it, he pocketed your belonging making note to give it back to you later. Right now, he had a game to worry about.

Somehow you had ended up at the Karasuno vs. Aoba Johsai game during the Interhigh Preliminaries. Minari had dragged you up to the stands as discreetly as possible after convincing you that she wasn't feeling up to study. Considering she had her eyes set on a certain 5'10 blueberry, you were foolish enough to think that she'd wanted to take you some place fun.

Now as the two of you stared down at the game happening eagerly, you let out a sigh upon noticing Hinata. As if your day couldn't have gotten worse after misplacing your wallet, you were displeased to find that he was looking right back up at you with the same wide-eyed stare he had when you two had first met.

Shivers ran down your back almost as if on cue, and you tore your gaze away from him fully ready to leave the gymnasium and trudge back home. But had you turned away, you would have missed the freakish oddball combination execute their quick attack.

"Holy shit," you breathed. "What the fuck was that?"

Minari smirked. "Tobio-kun is a great setter, isn't he? Or were you too focused on Mr. Bell Pepper to notice."

You shot her a frosty look, pushing down the stuttering emotion starting to rise in your chest that most definitely did not feel like anger. "As if."

The game continued for what seemed like days but turned out to be hours at most ending at a score of 1:2 in Aoba Johsai's favor.

Deafening silence overtook your ears. Minari was quick to leave the stands, mumbling something about consoling the fallen setter while your eyes searched for some semblance of sunshine in Hinata's sullen ones.

Spotting his sunken expression, you felt yourself regret the hatred that had sparked for him for just a moment. A fleeting moment that buried itself in your heart, planting a seedling of growing doubt.

"Minari, we have to catch the bus back!" You called out to your friend as you joined her on the gymnasium floor.

She glanced your way, halting the conversation she had began with her Tobio-kun. "Two minutes, and then we can go. Please?"

You nodded despite feeling discomfort crawling up your spine at being surrounded now by those you didn't know. You settled by the door, checking your phone mindlessly to pass the short time only looking up when an outstretched hand came into view.

"You dropped this earlier." Hinata's words were short, sharp, and you were suddenly glad you had never been on the end of his scathing remarks. "On your way to the library," he continued.

"Oh," was all your malfunctioning mind could come up with as he took your open hand in his, placing your wallet gently in your palm. The warmth of his skin seemed pressed into your own even after he had started to stalk away.

Clearing your throat, you spoke before you could stop yourself. "You did well today. I - uh," you paused. What were you even saying? "I watched from the stands."

He offered you a soft smile, one that you realized could light the world aflame, before walking back to his awaiting team.

You placed your hand over your drumming heart, sedating the flustered feeling he had left behind with you, chanting in your mind over and over again that Hinata Shōyō was a menace and you had no plan to ever like him let alone fall for him.

But no one ever plans to fall in love.

The Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club seemed to practice non-stop funnily enough, rather motivated by their loss from months ago instead of despaired. Minari had become a regular face during practice as she cheered the boys on in an attempt to woo Kageyama still, and by fault, so had you.

"Y/N, Tangerine's on his way over here." Minari nudged you, stealing your attention from the workbook open in your lap.

You shrugged, trying to focus on anything other than your slowly rising heartbeat. "Why? Did the coach bench him for his subpar plays?"

"No, actually Tangerine wanted to give you something but he's currently reconsidering."

You looked up immediately, eyes narrowing upon noticing Hinata standing in front of you with a small smirk. "You're looking really fucking smug for a guy who still needs to work on his skills. Kageyama says you lack basic technique."

Hinata rolled his eyes at you. "You're being rude."

"It's because I don't like you," you answered smoothly. "So get back to practice before you lose any more volleyball brain cells."

He let out a small laugh. Turning away, for a moment you thought he'd actually leave as simple as that, but just before he took another step, he tossed something your way. It fell on top of your workbook, smacking against the thin pages, causing a couple of the boys to look your way while Hinata jogged back to the net.

Minari leaned in closer to you. "He got you—" She cocked her head in confusion. "A wallet?"

It was a deep shade of orange that almost made you laugh out in irony. Detailed with card slots and a latch with snapping buttons, the wallet was definitely an improvement from the one you had right now.

"That's sweet... right?" Minari questioned, watching your expression as you opened the wallet to reveal a note — scratchy handwriting on a scrap of notebook paper.

'thought your wallet looked ratty old. not in a mean way of course!!!!

— your favorite, Pumpkin Head Shōyō

ps. my sister picked out the color :p'

"Stupid fucking carrot," you whispered under your breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm at his message. "I don't need a new wallet."

Minari scoffed at your words, turning to face you completely and taking your hands in hers with seriousness. "Be honest with me." You stared at her blankly. "Be honest, and tell me if you actually hate Hinata as much as you say you do. Why don't you just drop the act? You two obviously like each other enough to be friends, so why keep this all up? Isn't it tiring?"

Her words echoed through the hallways of your mind minutes, hours, and days after. Sitting at your desk in school, on your walk home, lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, they were as loud as life itself.

You thumbed the straps of your bag while waiting for the bus. The sun was slowly dropping from the sky, setting on the horizon leaving you in a thoughtful orange haze.

You two obviously like each other enough to be friends, so why keep this all up? Isn't it tiring?

The weeks following were conflicting and chaotic. Exam season settled on Karasuno High School jolting the students and staff into a cloud of stress.

You spent your spare time at the library, eyes boring into material that just wouldn't stick while a certain rotten bell pepper took his seat next to you.

"I have to pass my finals or Sugawara senpai is going to nail me to a wall," Hinata explained, spreading his notebooks out on the desk and bumping his elbow against yours in the process. "You do well in your classes, right? Do you — " He looked abash. "D - Do you mind helping me?"

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Looking back now, you suppose that's where your odd friendship began.

Days on end, the two of you would stay behind to cycle through the material slowly building a tolerance of each other much to everyone's surprise.

"Do you still hate me?" The question came one night, the weekend before his exams.

Hinata looked at you from where he sat on the swings, kicking his feet at the sandy grounds. The two of you were at the park, cooling off after a long study session.

Your eyes fell to the can of convenience store coffee in your hands. The slight of the passing breeze drilled his question further in your mind.

"No, I don't think so," came your answer, words wobbly and unsure despite the thrum of your heart beating loudly against your chest and the warmth in your cheeks.

Silence filled the space between you two before Hinata finally spoke up again.

"Then do you like me?"

Your body felt lit aflame, mind jumping immediately to the way he made you feel things you hadn't much before. "As a friend," you decided after a moment of flustered emotions. "We're friends, I guess."

Hinata nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I like you." He took a deep breath. "As more than a friend, but if you feel that way then I'll wait for you. We have time."

His confession became lost among the flurry of thoughts and colliding emotions raging on inside you. Before you could say anything in response, Hinata got to his feet, shooting you that now familiar smile of his and offering you his hand.

The new year overwhelmed your senses like a storm of rain after a drought. Refreshed after the break, you returned to school with a new sense of purpose amplified by the motivation the new year always brings.

Hinata's confession had remained in your mind, pushed to the back by celebration but still bugging you every so often. The apricot haired boy had showed up, throwing ping pong balls (of all things) at your window to catch your attention over the break asking if you wanted to go grab something sweet with him. You promptly responded with a rejection, only to find yourself walking with him ten minutes later.

"How was your break?" Minari asked, bundled in a jacket, scarf, and hat. She joined you at your side, catching you on your walk from the bus stop to school.

You shrugged, pulling your puffy jacket closer to you. "It was okay. You?"

She smiled. "Hung out with Tobio-kun. We went for hot chocolate, and he taught me how to set." Her eyes seemed almost dazzling at the memory, and you laughed, pushing her lightly away.

"You and your Tobio-kun are positively gross," you said. "Absolutely—"

Your words were halted at the feeling of warm fabric settling around your neck and a known face popping up beside you with a proud smile.

"Stay warm. You can give it back to me later," Hinata said before jogging away to catch up with a pair of Second Year boys ahead.

Your hand came up to the green scarf around your neck, failing to form comprehensive sentences. Heart thundering, you ignored the funny looks others sent your way. Glancing at Minari, you caught her slipping giggles.

"What happened to Hinata Shōyō being a rotten bell pepper?"

"Shut up."

Lending you his scarf when days seemed too cold was just the beginning of it all. Days turned into weeks turned into months of Hinata pining after you and you—though obvious to everyone else—trying to decipher your feelings for him.

"Hey, I missed you," Hinata said to you lightly after you had agreed to drop something off for Kageyama on Minari's behalf. Quickly realizing the meaning of his words, however, Hinata corrected himself. "I mean—um, as in I m - missed you earlier. Like... like I didn't catch you today, you know?"

You tilted your head at him with endearment, a small smile playing across your lips at the sight of his blushing face. "Yeah, don't worry. I got it, sweet potato."

His flustered expression dropped. "You think I'm sweet?"

Your eyes widened, stuttering to form a response and correct yourself out of this situation you had suddenly been thrusted in. Luckily, Kageyama came to your rescue before you could embarrass yourself.

"Hinata, boke, stop flirting with Y/N!" The tall blueberry haired boy towered over Hinata with a menacing glare and a scoff. Kageyama turned to you with a blank look you took for an apologetic expression.

Shaking your head profusely, you put your hands up in surrender. "Ah, no worries, Kageyama. I—uh, I have something for you from Minari. She has classroom duties today, so she couldn't come herself."

Kageyama nodded, taking the wrapped bento box that Minari had prepared for him from your outstretched hands. He mumbled words of thanks before stalking off while muttering under his breath a colorful range of insults at Hinata who in turn sent him a funny face.

The Spring Interhigh was coming up, and you were sure the Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club was itching for redemption after what had happened last August. Deciding that you didn't want to interrupt their practice any further, you made move to leave only to stop at the feeling of a hand on your wrist.

Glancing back, you raised an eyebrow in surprise at Hinata's sudden action. "What are you—"

The tangerine boy had exchanged his lighthearted expression of just minutes ago with a look that you could only describe as properly motivated. "When we make it to Nationals, promise to give me a chance."

All around you, the gym seemed to fade until only Hinata was in your line of vision.

When we make it to Nationals, he had said, not if.

Unable to respond, you found yourself nodding because who were you to kid yourself at this point?

The Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club did, in fact, make it to Nationals, but unfortunately lost to Kamomedai High School in the quarter-final round while Hinata spent his time at the hospital.

Hooked up to an IV line and dressed in one of those flimsy hospital gowns, Hinata looked unusually weak laying down on the bed. The others had left not long after you had arrived though some took more convincing than others.

"Next time, you can keep your scarf to yourself," you said, cutting the silence short with a lighthearted remark.

Hinata smiled weakly at that, his hand coming to rest atop your folded ones on your lap. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

You shook your head. "Obviously, you can't take care of yourself." Slipping your hands from under his, you took the hand warmers out of your pockets and placed one in each of his hands. "Luckily, you got me."

His face lit up. "Oh, do I now?"

Warmth spread through your body as you looked away from his hopeful gaze. "Well, you did make it to Nationals."

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #hinata headcanons #hinata imagine #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata x reader #hinata x you #hinata x y/n #hinata shoyo headcanons #hinata shoyo imagine #hinata shoyo x reader

80 notes · View notes

deansmom · 2 years

Text

Anxiety about covid is so weird because I have generalized anxiety disorder and all of my anxiety is based in control (losing it, not having it, etc) right? So it’s mostly completely irrational things that control my anxiety and I’ve always had a germ thing. Always, since I can remember, I’ve always been Wary about germs and cleanliness of things in general.

You know why anxiety about covid is weird? Because it’s not so irrational that I can outright dismiss it or talk myself out of it. Like yeah, I’ve been working since June in a state and county that doesn’t require masks and schools are open for face to face and cases are obscene - I am arguably the biggest vector/possibility of bringing it home. [knock on wood] if I’ve had it, it wasn’t bad enough for me or my doctor to feel like I should get tested.

But my brother tested positive officially on Sunday (I was negative), my mom got tested Monday and yesterday spent most of her day in bed feeling not sick but weird (y’all I’m hanging on by a thread over here lmao) - I had to basically knock myself out with a Xanax and too much melatonin to fall asleep at all last night because all my brain could think was we have the air on, Josh doesn’t wear a mask in his room, nobody’s taking the quarantine procedures as seriously as I am and I just. There’s a part of my brain that knows I’m being irrational if only because omicron is so contagious, I’ve probably already been exposed and should get tested again (my mom ordered at home tests that should be here tomorrow).

But just existing in the world feels like being gaslit. It’s insane to me that someone in my house who I share a bathroom with (not currently, obviously) has covid and I have to go to work?!?! And continue to potentially expose my coworkers and customers and I just - if I gave somebody covid even unknowingly and they died? I couldn’t live with myself. That’s irrational but also like, the only way my body is allowing me to express that emotion.

Oh and a coworker is out probably with covid (sick either way, she had a 101 fever Monday night) and there’s only four of us including her and my store manager has kids who can’t be vaccinated and I’m fucking losing my mind. This is to say NOTHING about my 91 year old grandfather who lives with us (!!!) and my immunocompromised, diabetic, asthmatic mother who I can’t even imagine losing without having a full on breakdown. And I’m just supposed to go to work and be fine even though our truck didn’t come today AGAIN which means everyone in the warehouse is STILL out with covid and I just. My autistic anxiety ridden ass was not designed for this much stress my dudes. I’m literally one wrong word away from just needing to be sedated & put in a coma or something lmao

Please wear your masks, please stay home if you feel weird, please get your booster and your vaccine if you haven’t already.

#i would say a grippy sock vacation but I’m fucking terrified of hospitals so! that’s out!#oh and one of my rats might be in the end stages of his life and I literally yelled at juno (our 15 year old dog with DCM)#that she CAN’T FUCKING DIE RIGHT NOW #I’m losing it lmao help i have to go to work in like an hour #personal #covid tw //

4 notes · View notes

fallout4reactsblog · 4 years

Note

In my exploration for fanfic, I stumbled across a Soulmate AU in the Naruto fandom - but not just any Soulmate AU, oh no, it was something that instantly made me crack up (I'll explain why, hold on a sec). You're completely incapable of lying to your soulmate. Dead silence or weird stuttering, or maybe even a strangled noise when the words just won't come out. You just can't. *You can't.* And I thought of DEACON's reaction (lmao), and then thought the other companions would be fun/cute, too!

Cait: At least sole is nice enough to give her a beer, after the day she’s had. It’s an uncomfortably warm temperature from their bag, and it’s not the Gwinnett Stout she prefers, nor the hit of Psycho she needs, but it’s better than nothing. After all, it’s not like they’re obligated to treat her well, or even have an incentive to do so. She’s a bargaining chip that they foolishly accepted.

They return to the campfire, hair still slightly damp from washing out the blood and bone of former raiders. She has to admit that that was fun to watch, at least. They’d made quite a mess out of all those assholes, and seeing the pain be on them for a change was a sort of sick justice she never thought she’d get. She supposes she can cut them a little slack for that.

“Are you hungry?” they ask, rummaging through their bag. “I don’t eat much, but you’re welcome to have anything I’ve got in here.”

She doesn’t want their stupid pity, so she opens her mouth to snap at them and tell them no. She doesn’t want their food, nor the sad way they look at her, like she’s some sort of wounded animal.

Nothing comes out. The words are right there, burning to be said, but her mouth won’t move, and she suddenly can’t make a sound.

“Here.” They hand her what looks to be some sort of grilled meat on a skewer. “Try some squirrel. It’s fresh.”

She takes it wordlessly, still trying to understand what’s just happened to her.

“Have some water, too. You must be thirsty.”

Suddenly, there’s a can of water in her hands, too, and a knife to open it up.

“Do you need anything else?”

What she really needs is a hit of Psycho so she can make this all a fuzzy memory, but she’s not about to tell them that. It’s none of their business, frankly, and she doesn’t even trust them.

But she can’t say no. She just sits there, mouth open, trying to make any sound to refuse them, to tell them she doesn’t want their help, but her lips won’t move.

“Are you okay?” they ask, and she sees the concern in her eyes.

“I’m just trying to-” She cuts off at the words “say no,” and can’t speak again.

They sigh and lean back in the chair they’d dug out of an abandoned shack. “Cait, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you or anything. I just want to make sure I can take care of you. Since I got out of cryo, my human functions have been on the fritz, so I need you to tell me when you need food, water, or anything else. There’s no shame in it.”

The world is becoming far too clear around her for her taste. She wishes she could have stolen the Psycho stashes from the Combat Zone, but sole had gotten there first. All of her drugs are in their bag, just out of reach.

But she can’t tell them that. She can’t just admit to needing their help, because if she does- Well, she doesn’t want to think about it. But she can’t deny she really needs to be high, and she also can’t deny that the only supply is sitting by her new companion’s feet.

“Just- hand me some Psycho, will you?”

They comply without a word, digging into their bag to pull up a dose, careful of the needle. She snatches it from their hands, relieved to just have it again, and once the drug is rushing through her blood, everything feels better. She can think clearly enough to remember all those stupid conversations she’d overheard, that soulmate bullshit about not being able to lie.

She scowls across the campfire at them, where they’re cleaning their gun, and tries to figure out what the hell this means for her future.

Curie: She’s seen enough wounds to know when a limb is done for. She knows the limits of stimpacks, knows how far their healing can go, and whatever happened to sole to make their arm look like this is far beyond any medicine’s capabilities.

“How do we look?” they ask, dopey grin on their face. She’d administered some chems to at least take away the pain.

“Well-” She searches for the nicest way to tell them the truth.

Their arm is well beyond saving, and she knows it, but to have to tell them that seems impossible. Besides, she doesn’t know how they’ll react. No, she can’t tell them the truth. She’ll have to settle for the old tradition among healthcare professionals of lying and telling them everything will be fine.

But instead of comforting words and false niceties, what comes of out her mouth is a stuttering, jumbled mess of sounds, hopelessly incoherent.

“Don’t tell me you popped some pills, too, Curie.” They giggle a little. “I saw how that worked out for Earl Sterling. Hard pass.”

“No, I did not take any chems. I am just looking at your arm, that is all.”

“Am I gonna lose it?”

Again, she tries to comfort them with a small lie, but again, she stumbles so much over her words that nothing she’s saying makes sense. She frowns at her inability to be professional; after all, she’s lied to many people about their condition since getting out of the vault. This should be no different.

“Careful with that stuttering, doc. People will start to think we’re soulmates or something.”

Her hands freeze over a pair of scissors to cut off their sleeves. “Soulmates?”

“Yeah. You know, the whole ‘there’s one person in the world you can’t lie to, and that’s your soulmate’ thing? Did they teach you about that?”

“Certainly.” She begins cutting at their shirt. “I had just forgotten about it until now.”

“Me, too.” They sigh, a little wistfully. “It’s a shame I never found mine, I guess. They’re probably long dead by now.”

“I don’t think so, madame/monsieur.” A tiny smile creeps to her face, even as she pulls out some chems to sedate them. “But we will discuss this more when you wake up.”

“You know, Curie,” they say, as their eyelids grow heavy. “If I still have a soulmate out there, I hope it’s you.”

She barely has time to process what they’ve said before they’re out like a light, and she needs to get to work.

Danse: It’s easier to be honest at night.

The fire doesn’t quite illuminate sole’s face, just the barest hint of their features as they tell him a story about life before the war. A can of purified water dangles loosely from their fingertips, seemingly forgotten as they tell him about their life before the bombs fell. It’s nice to hear them talk about it; here, people tend to idealize what life must have been like before. To get a second opinion is refreshing.

“I think one of the worst things was the soulmate obsession,” they say. “Everyone was absolutely set on marrying their ‘one true love,’ you know? Most people didn’t even consider anyone else. They wanted their soulmate and their soulmate alone. It made being married pretty hard, especially once we had a kid. So many friends of ours were upset we weren’t trying to find the person who’d been chosen for us.”

“Your partner wasn’t your soulmate?”

They shake their head. “There was war hanging over our heads, and we were both getting to the age that we wanted to settle down. We were happy enough together, so we just went ahead and got married. Why not, right?”

“I suppose so.” Truth be told, he tries not to think about the idea of a soulmate too much. He has more important things to think about, and the idea seems almost childish. A fantasy for someone who doesn’t understand how hard the world is. “Do you regret your actions now?”

They shrug. “Not really. From what I’ve seen, being in love is tough these days.”

He has to agree with them there. “The Commonwealth is dangerous, and more so if you’re committed to protecting someone else. The stress alone of that bond would make survival here difficult. I can certainly see why you would choose to not pursue a romantic connection.”

“What if you did find them, though? What would you do?”

He thinks hard on the question. “The Brotherhood is where my loyalties lie. I don’t think I would prioritize someone else over my duties there.”

“Okay, but what if you didn’t have to? I mean, this person is supposedly your perfect other half. Maybe they would understand.”

He tries to tell them that it wouldn’t matter. Loyalties are loyalties, and he won’t allow someone else to disrupt that, but for some reason he can’t. The words won’t come.

“I suppose I’d have to talk to them about it,” he admits, still wondering why he can’t say what he wants to. “What about you?”

They shrug. “The same, I guess. I’d want to get to know them better, make sure we’re both on the same page.”

They continue on talking, but Danse finds it hard to concentrate all of a sudden. His inability to speak is troubling, and something he’ll need to investigate further.

Later, though. For now, he has to focus on his duties.

Deacon: He has no clue what the hell he’s supposed to do.

Everything had been going fine. He and sole had gone adventuring, and they’d passed by a group of supermutants, and he’d tried to make a joke about having seen a supermutant in drag one time. Just a little something to lighten the mood. The tiniest, whitest lie.

But he hadn’t, no, he couldn’t. His mouth wouldn’t let him. No matter how many times he’d tried, no matter how many different variants of the joke, he couldn’t do it. Because he’s never seen a supermutant in drag (or a deathclaw, or a mirelurk, or anything else) and now it turns out he can’t lie to them, which is inconvenient, to say the least.

He’s not an idiot. He knows he lies compulsively, without even thinking about it, and he knows he can’t stop and doesn’t want to. It’s easy to hide behind a wall of lies, and it’s definitely convenient if you don’t want anyone to ever know who you really are.

But to find out he not only has a soulmate, but that it’s sole, of all people, is really fucking up his day. Because sole is a badass, and the Railroad really, really needs them. And he knows that to get them through these first few weeks of getting settled, he’s going to need to twist the truth and make the Railroad seem like it’s their only option if they want peace. He also knows that he really likes them, and he usually lies to people he likes to make sure that they like him back.

Part of him tells him he has to stop working with them. If he can’t lie, he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and who knows what he might tell them without thinking about it. But the other part of him does like sole, and wants to hang out with them more, and the only way to do that is to talk to them. Which means he’ll have to settle for not lying to them.

He doesn’t know if he can. He doesn’t know if they’re worth it. But there’s that tiny, nagging thought at the back of his head that tell him to forget the lying part, the fact that they’re his soulmate means he ought to at least try.

“Deacon!” Their head appears around a corner. “Want to go bust open a DIA cache with me?”

Like an idiot, he agrees.

Gage: They look like shit. Dark circles hang below their eyes, and there’s still blood on their lips from getting punched in the nose earlier. Those ghouls had really beaten the shit out of them, and even though their stimpacks had healed most of the damage, they still look like they’ve been through the wringer.

“Having a beer before bed?” he asks, settling into the chair across from them. He eyes the other three bottles lined up on the table suspiciously, and wonders if this is their first drink of the night. It doesn’t look likely.

“Having a beer before work, more like.” They rub a hand across their face as if they can scrub away their apparent exhaustion. “There’s too much to do. Can’t go to bed quite yet.”

“Don’t be stupid. If you’re not at your best, these pieces of shit will rip you up. You should sleep.”

“Careful, Gage.” Their eyes shine with mischief. “You keep talking like that, I’ll have to wonder if you actually care about me.”

He tries to tell them that he doesn’t care about them, but again, the words don’t come out. It’s strange. So often, when he tries to talk to them, he can’t speak, like he’s tongue-tied. It’s annoying, especially when he’s trying to get something out of them. He’s a good manipulator, and he knows that, but it’s hard to do that when he can’t seem to lie to them.

Which means, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the new Overboss happens to be his soulmate.

“Fucking hell,” he huffs, and grabs their beer to have a drink of his own.

“Something wrong, Gage?”

He shakes his head, trying to figure out how to phrase it without lying, exactly. “Nothing that I’d see as important.”

The truth is he’s never cared about having a soulmate. In fact, he was convinced he didn’t have one. Everyone around him is an idiot, weak, or too single-minded to impress him. He’d assumed a long time ago that there was no way any of them could be “the one,” and if they were, there was no way he was going to do anything about it.

But the Overboss, well, that was different. For one, it would definitely give him a tactical advantage, and it would make them want to keep him close. No chance of getting shut out. Also, in the part of him that he’d rather ignore, he had to admit that it wouldn’t be bad to be tied to them. They were the only one who he didn’t immediately peg as a moron, and they actually seemed to know what they were doing and how to do it. He liked that.

Yes, this was an advantage to him for sure. He just had to figure out a way to tell them without sounding like an idiot.

Hancock: “Hancock, how much have you had, exactly?”

He glances up to see them standing in the door, an almost disappointed look on their face. He knows them better than that, of course; their disappointment is their excuse to not show their concern. That’s okay, though. He understands.

“Not sure. Wanna join me?”

“John.” They fall to the couch beside him with a huff. “You know I have work to do. Responsibilities. Et cetera, et cetera.”

Laughing, he leans over to rest his head on their shoulder. “Me, too, sunshine. What’s your point?”

They gently tap a finger to what remains of his nose. “My point is we should be getting to those responsibilities, not getting high.”

He shrugs and burrows his head a little more firmly against their arm. They’re so warm, so comfortable, so patient with his antics. He supposes he’s lucky to have them. As they wrap an arm around his waist, he sighs contentedly, happy that they’re here. He can’t think of a single person he’d rather have at his side.

“I’m glad you’re here, sunshine. I missed you while you were gone.”

They lean to rest their head to his, their hair tickling at his scalp. “I missed you too.”

It occurs to him, somewhere at the very back of his mind, that this is probably what love feels like, or at least, what it probably should feel like. This contentment, this bliss. He could walk through fire for even a taste of this moment.

Gently, he takes their hand in his, running his fingers across their smooth skin. Their wedding band glints in the dim light of the Old State House, glimmering gold and perfectly cleaned.

“You must really miss your partner, huh?”

“I guess.” Idly, sole entwines their fingers. “It was hard, though. All our friends married their soulmates, but we never found ours. It was part of the reason we got married, actually; we were tired of waiting for someone we might never find.”

“You ever wonder who your soulmate was?”

“I try not to.”

He opens his mouth to agree, but something stops him. The words catch. It’s a lie, but one that he’s never had an issue telling. As far as everyone else knows, he never thinks about his soulmate, and doesn’t believe in the idea. But for some reason, no matter how he tries to phrase it, he just can’t tell sole.

“Sunshine, will you be honest with me a second?”

They laugh softly. “I’m always honest with you, John.”

“You’ve never lied to me?”

“Of course not.”

Despite how sedated he should feel, given how much Day Tripper he’s probably consumed today, his heartbeat kicks up into overdrive. Suddenly, he’s faced with the possibility of a soulmate, despite spending years denying they exist and longer trying to pretend they didn’t

“Why do you ask?”

As he tries and fails to tell them, “No reason,” he realizes how tough this is actually going to be.

MacCready: “Mac.”

He doesn’t respond. He knows that’s immature of him, but it’s what they deserve. After all, they didn’t tell him they’d joined the Railroad, he had to find out from some rando in Diamond City, so why should he tell them anything?

“Come on, RJ, stop being stupid. It’s not that big of a deal.”

It feels like a big deal, though. He’s trusted them so much, and they couldn’t bother to share this little tidbit of information? It’s not fair, and it definitely doesn’t earn them any conversation. Instead, he’ll sit here and clean his gun and stare sullenly at the fire. That’ll show them.

They huff, obviously irritated, and sit down beside him. He scoots away, which is definitely immature, but he’s beyond caring about his image at the moment. They scoot closer in retaliation.

“I don’t get why you’re so upset about such a little thing.”

“I’m not upset,” he snaps, or at least he tries, but it doesn’t come out like that. It comes out as unintelligible stuttering, and he freezes.

He knows this feeling; the way the words scramble in his mouth before he can say them. He’s felt it once before, years ago, and he thought he couldn’t have it again. After all, Lucy was his soulmate, wasn’t she? His one and only, the person he was meant to be with. But here he is, sitting with sole, unable to say a word.

“Come again?” they say, bumping his knee with theirs.

He stands, stomach twisting. It’s not possible to have another soulmate. He shouldn’t, he can’t. He won’t just leave her behind because suddenly sole is in the picture. Sure, they’re just the right amount of kind, they’re smarter than he is, and they always listen when he speaks. But that doesn’t make them his soulmate, and it doesn’t give him an excuse to move on.

“RJ, what’s wrong?” They stand up, too, peering into the darkness around their camp. “Did you hear something?”

The sound of their voice makes him want to throw up. Not because he hates them, to the contrary, he’s far more fond of them than he has any right to be.

“No. I need to take a walk.”

“It’s dangerous,” they protest. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

Their worry for him is endearing, but he needs to collect his thoughts quietly, before he says something he’ll regret.

“I’m not going far. I just need a minute.”

The fact that they accept it, trust him, and let him go makes everything that much worse.

Nick: “I swear I set it down right here.”

Nick watches them from across the agency, bemused smile on his face as they try to find the sunglasses perched on top of their head. For someone so intelligent, so clever, he’s almost impressed by their antics. Not just everyone can decipher a code, hack a terminal, and then turn around and lose the sunglasses that they’re wearing.

“Ellie, have you seen my glasses?”

“Nope, haven’t seen them.” She shoots Nick a mischievous look across the room, and he chuckles and shakes his head. God, she’s impossible in the most fun way.

“Nick?” The hero of the Commonwealth turns to him, next. “I thought I set them on your desk.”

He almost says, “I haven’t seen them,” but he can’t. Before he can even get the first syllable out, his lips freeze in place, and he can’t speak.

“Hello?” They wave a hand in front of his face. “Don’t tell me you’re glitching on me now, Nick. I still need you.”

“Ha ha,” he says sarcastically, batting their hand away. “I’m not glitching, just having a little trouble, that’s all.”

“Me, too, because I can’t find these stupid...”

They turn away to begin rifling through drawers. Ellie looks at him with a concerned look on her face, but he waves her off, mouthing, “I’m fine,” at her.

He’s surprised, though. He honestly thought he couldn’t have a soulmate, that his better half would be the same as pre-war Nick’s. After all, they do have the same memories, the same personality, they just happen to look a little different. It wasn’t unreasonable to assume that they would have the same soulmate.

He almost wishes they did, as he watches sole begin peering under desks. They deserve better. Someone who can keep up with them, who still has their youth and their whole life ahead of them. Besides, they’re probably still mourning their late spouse. He’s not sure how long he’ll be able to keep this a secret from them.

Especially since he can’t lie.

Piper: She sizes them up discreetly from across the room. They’ve curled up on her couch with the latest issue of the Publick, despite the fact that they proofread every article in it. Still, they look deeply invested. It’s flattering.

Now’s probably a good time, she thinks. She’s known Blue for a while now, and if they’re her soulmate she wouldn’t be upset in the slightest. After all, they’re clever, cute, and their butt looks great in their vault suit. She’s not going to get her hopes up, though, because Blue’s soulmate could have easily been alive with them all those years ago and now be long dead. But, if it does just so happen that everything works out in her favor, that would be almost too good to be true.

She picks a lie carefully, just in case the words actually can be spoken to them. She doesn’t want to sound stupid, or say something that’s embarrassing. Maybe something about her favorite flavor of Nuka-Cola? She’s always been pretty ambivalent about Nuka-Cherry.

“Hey, Blue.”

They glance up from the paper as if they forgot she was there altogether. “What is it, Piper?”

“Do you want to know a secret?”

“Absolutely.” They put the paper to the side and lean forward intently. “Spill.”

She smiles at their enthusiasm and attempts her lie. Nuka-Cherry is her favorite. Such a simple little thing, so inconsequential, something that would be so easy to lie about, if she could.

But she can’t.

“Piper? Are you gonna tell me your secret?”

Her smile spreads into a grin, and she winks at them in a way she hopes is cute and flirtatious. “We’re soulmates, Blue.”

“What?” They jump to their feet, eyes sparkling. “Are you serious?”

“Well, I can’t exactly lie to you about it.”

They’re across the room in an instant, sweeping her into a hug. “Holy shit! I thought I’d never find you, that I’d lost you when the bombs dropped. But you were here the whole time. I just had to get to you first.”

She laughs and wraps her arms around their neck. “That’s right! I was just waiting for you to finally show up.”

They stand in the middle of Piper’s home, arms wrapped around each other, enjoying a moment neither of them knew they would ever have.

Preston: “Preston.”

Their voice startles him. He hadn’t heard them come down the hall, and he hastily wipes the tears from his face and uncurls from his position in the corner. They’re standing in the doorway, green light illuminating the air around them. He forces a smile up to his face.

“Did you need something, General?”

“Nothing more important than you.” They step further into the room and sit down on the chair across from him. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He stands up, straightening his coat out and dusting himself off, forcing away the thoughts of blood that threaten to cloud his vision.

“Preston. You can tell me. I’m not going to judge you.”

For a moment, he considers it. He could lay it all out in front of them, finally let someone else share the burden of Quincy and everything that followed. If nothing else, maybe it would help clear his mind.

But, he can’t. They’ve been through too much to have to shoulder his troubles as well. It would be unfair of him to ask them for help, and unfair to expect them to. They’re doing enough for the Minutemen already.

He doesn’t say that, though. In fact, he doesn’t say anything, because when he tries to tell them that he’s fine and that nothing’s wrong, the words scramble themselves on his tongue and emerge in a mess of sounds with no meaning.

They raise an eyebrow. “You okay there? You didn’t take anything strange, did you? I know Mama Murphy offers, but you don’t have to accept.”

He sighs, though the lightness of their voice does help to lift the mood in the room a little. “No, I didn’t take anything.”

“Well, that’s something, at least.” They reach into their bag which rests at their feet. “Do you want a gumdrop?”

He accepts, and the flavor of artificial orange offers him some comfort. It’s easier to forget about the darkness and rain and the taste of blood in his mouth with sole across from him and half an orange gumdrop in his hand.

“So what was it?” they ask as he chews.

He tries again to brush them off, but when the syllables scramble themselves up again, he gives up and falls back into silence. Across the room, he catches the faintest hint of a smile on their face, and for some reason that stings.

“What’s so funny?”

They wave a hand through the air, laughing just a little under their breath. “Preston, I don’t suppose you’ve ever met your soulmate?”

“I never really looked for them. It wasn’t really a priority, so I-” Realization dawns on him. “Oh. You think? We’re...?

“Well, you can’t just brush me off and tell me it’s nothing, which is what you’re trying to do. Just like I can’t tell you I’m fine when I’m not. It just makes sense.”

And, suddenly, it does.

A stupid grin finds his face as he looks at them, washed in green light from their Pip-Boy. In this moment, he can’t honestly think of anyone he’d rather be soulmates with. They’re perfect in every way. He couldn’t ask for better.

“Well, soulmate, how about you tell me what’s going on? I’d hate to leave you crying in the dark all alone.”

He shakes his head, still smiling. “So you remember what I told you about Quincy...”

X6: Their face is furious. Anger blazes in their eyes with the heat of a thousand suns, hot enough that X6 suspects he might get burned if he steps any closer. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least. He’s not supposed to be easily intimidated, but in this moment, sole is terrifying.

“Are you going to answer my question, or not?”

He’d very much like to answer their question. In fact, he’d love to tell them that he’s not been hiding anything from them, that he has no doubts about his loyalties, and that everything is functioning perfectly, but the words just won’t come. It doesn’t matter how many times he tries. Nothing. Works.

“X6, I’m starting to get very irritated.”

“It seems to me that you’re beyond irritated already.”

“Then that should be an incentive to tell me if you’ve been hiding something from me, and then lay out exactly what that thing is. Believe me, you will not like-”

“I’m trying,” he snaps, frustrated at himself for being so unable to complete this simple task. “Will you just give me a goddamn second?”

“I don’t know why you’re making this so difficult.”

He grapples with his lie again, attempting to force it from between his lips, but surrenders quickly in exasperation. “Believe me, neither do I.”

They shake their head and scrub a hand over their eyes, seemingly fed up. The look in their eyes is still anger, but a resigned kind, the kind that festers and breaks people apart. “Look. I’m not angry, and as long as it’s not going to hurt anyone, it’s fine. Don’t tell me. Whatever. I honestly don’t care anymore.”

Their scorn strikes a nerve, and X6, who is already at his breaking point with both them and himself, gives in. “Don’t insult me. You know as well as I do that if it were that simple, I would have told you by now. I don’t hide things unless it’s necessary, and I’ve never lied to you. As it turns out, I probably can’t, so you’ll just have to trust me when I say I won’t hide something from you unless it’s important.”

They blink once, eyes wide, seemingly stunned into silence. For the first time in what feels like hours, the air around them is quiet and almost peaceful. There are no angry words, no harsh accusations. They just stare at him as if in shock, and he takes the moment to compose himself again.

“You can’t lie to me?”

“It seems not. Probably because you’re the future Director, and it’s not logical for me to be able to lie to you. I would suppose I can’t lie to Father, either, but I’ve never tried.”

“No, I’ve looked through the data. That’s nowhere in the programming. You should be able to lie to anyone you need to, including me.”

“Well, I can’t. I suppose it’s a malfunction.”

“It could be, but...”

They look him in the eyes, open their mouth as if to speak, then snap it closed. A smirk finds their face, almost triumphant.

“That settles it. You’re not malfunctioning, X6. You just happen to have found your soulmate.”

That stops his train of thought dead in its tracks. While not unfamiliar with the concept of soulmates- he had heard some of the scientists discussing the matter- he had never put much thought to it. After all, as a synth he couldn’t have a soulmate, because he had no soul. At least, that was what he’d been taught, and what he’d believed for his entire life.

“A soulmate? You?”

“Seems that way.” They smile, all the anger now gone from their face. “Come on, let’s sit down by the fire. We should get to know each other a little better.”

Wordlessly, he agrees.

204 notes · View notes

vickylamore · 3 years

Text

Cyborg City

Series: [26 Days of Alphabetical AUs Fics - Mini Masterlist]

Letter + AU: Letter C, Cyborg AU (inspired by Obsession - EXO)

TW: Dark humour, gore, language, the governement

Pairing: Platonic!EXO , Brother!Park Chanyeol (EXO) x Sister!Female Reader

Genre: Cyborg AU, Crack, Headcanons

Word count: 2k

“if you stop running, we’ll have to detain you but it’ll hurt a lot less.”

“yeah, because that’s so fucking reassuring.”

you technically wouldn’t be having this conversation if you didn’t sneak into a government facility filled with biotechnology and get caught but go figure.

also, being on top of a super high building with cars literally racing each other near a highway isn’t really that fun but chances are you have a slim to none chance of surviving if he doesn’t get here in time.

it’ll be his head on a silver platter if he doesn’t hurry up.

the purple and blue fluorescent lights on every building and banner along with the pink hued sunset were really starting to hurt your eyes, you had to blink a couple times before taking a few steps back to stop the heavy geared officers from approaching you, the sole of your foot on the edge of the building.

“hey, get away from the edge.”

“you guys switched up so fast.” you couldn’t really tell if it was a woman or a man speaking because of the huge head gear while the other kept glancing at the distance between you and your possible death.

not that it mattered, it’s not like you’re going to jump.

“look, if you just put the bag down, we’ll let you go.”

“yeah,” you scoffed with a laugh, “by signing me to a fucking coffin. God, I hate the government.”

“I’ll lose my job!”

you sent the officer the most perplexed look you could pull off before laughing again, “that sounds like a you problem.”

“listen, I’ve got an older brother who’s in pretty bad shape and I need these things,” you glanced at your watch for a second before smiling at the officers, “so, if you’ll excuse me.”

“what are you-- hey!”

you just had to lean your back off the edge to start free falling. it was like a lucid dream, everything felt so calm and peaceful, even with the screaming in the background.

ever since the crisis in 2007, everything had switched from modern day technology to robots and cyborgs in a fourteen years, everything that was once run by humans were now taken over by robots.

which would explain the very dark futuristic allure to the entire city, it would also explain why you aren’t completely fearing for your life as of right now.

“come on, come on, come on…” you closed your eyes, the wind clotting your ears, everything seemingly becoming an eco around you.

was it fun falling? you almost laughed at the thought that crossed your mind.

of course not; it literally felt like you were in the middle of an airplane that had just entered low pressured air.

“Jongin I swear to god if you don’t catch me, I’m not the only one that’ll kill you in hell!” you wondered if he even heard you, let alone knows where you are.

your brother is going to be more than upset if he finds out that one of his partners let you go splat.

if he finds out. it really does depend on you if you can even get to him before his entire system goes haywire.

you opened your eyes and screamed; you were so much closer to the ground than you thought, you were just seconds away from actually dying.

I can’t believe this is happening.

the people on the sidelines were watching you’re so close to your own fucking death as others were already trying to call cyborg officers, those who aren’t necessarily 100% human, to catch you in time.

you might actually die.

at least it’ll be before your brother because that man is in pretty rough shape right now.

but you don’t know what's worse; dying by getting hit by an oncoming truck or dying because your system is making you go coo-coo.

“it’s fun watching someone plunge to their death.”

you’ve never felt so annoyed yet relieved that here his voice.

“bite me.”

now that Jongin was flying above you with a comical smirk on his face to play hero, he grabbed your waist just before you were supposed to come in contact with the truck and flew all the way to a building about ten miles from where you were.

“son of a bitch, don’t ever fucking do that again.” you hissed at the blue-green haired man while catching your breath, “I almost lost my life, not that I’m complaining but still.”

Jongin was your best friend and at the same time, your worst enemy. he's probably the reason you don’t sleep at night because of the endless phone calls and messages and the reason for nearly all your mental problems but is also the one person who hasn’t tried to intentionally kill you.

win-win? maybe.

he was actually the first person out of the six dumbasses to reveal himself as a cyborg; his left eye, although normal at first glance, is a red-eyed machine and his back has built-in boosters acquiring them after a freak car accident as a child.

“you’re alive are you not?” he deadpanned before smirking, “should’ve done myself a favour and let you die.”

taking you back to the bunker was easy, getting you inside was also pretty easy.

but getting you to the small makeshift lab with Chanyeol about to kill literally everyone he sees is honestly tragic.

what's even worse is that the rest of them were still trying to sedate him after you’ve been gone for nearly an hour.

can’t say you’re disappointed; your brother is pretty bad when upset.

luckily, another episode has stopped and he’s finally out cold, Jongdae laying him on the couch while letting out a tired breath.

right, another episode.

the crisis in ‘07 was the tragic story of a group of scientists who created several artificial intelligences in order to save the world.

that certainly didn’t go as planned.

the technology was so new that they didn’t realize the consequences of giving these computers unlimited access to the internet, to information and better yet, classified information from neighbouring countries.

despite the fact that that alone would have caused a war, nothing was solvable until the artificial intelligences started creating more and more of their own. they took over machines, systems, nearly everything that was filled with technology, poor or high end.

so what did the government decide to do? Find any machine part and use it on strangers and the weak to make them stronger and to possibly wipe out the crisis.

it worked for the first six years, even with the mass protests about sacrificing the lives of innocent people, they didn’t stop.

and it was in 2013 that the government started getting power hungry. they redid everything to make the city look much ‘tech-like’.

electricians were replaced by robots as well as carpenters, construction workers and anything to do with manual labour was all taken by the government.

less money to spend on people.

and the worse this was that they left those humans that had tech parts to rot away.

but they came back stronger than ever and nearly half the city as cyborgs while the other half is either the government or innocent people, like you and it’s literally the government vs the people and cyborgs.

so it’s fine :)

now an episode is when a cyborg system starts failing whether it’s because of heat, cold, water, electricity-- they’re also machines and some machines deal with some problems better than others.

your brother’s right eye is a bitch with a built in voice system.

yes, his right eye talks.

when the AI eye (lmao) starts overwriting itself, the cells in his body are so used to the machine in his body that they trust it and what happens when the body trusts something?

in Chanyeol’s case, his cells start attacking each other and that’s about it.

it sounds awful, which it is, but instead of getting sick he just gets super angry because little miss right eyeball decided to play peek-a-boo with evil and make him want to kill everyone he sees.

you peaked around the corner and walked into the living and saw all the guys laying on the floor with some half asleep.

the guys, EXO, a group meaning… something something organism were technically always friends and just got closer when they all learned they were cyborgs,

“his episode stopped?” you asked anyone.

“mh-hm.”

“and you just sedated him?”

“fucking take it or leave it,” Sehun complained with a groan and sat up, looking at the bag you have in between your fingers. “did you get everything?”

“yeah, I did,” you shook the bag and shuffled your way to the next room, “Baek, Myeon, catch a cure or catch a case, pick one.”

usually, you’d already have the serum already done and ready because you’re pretty smart and figured out how to reverse the effects with the help of Junmyeon and Baekhyun of course, the former with one with a half of einstein’s brain and the other half of an AI and the other one with built in sound-chips and fingers able to attract any metal at will like magnets.

best team to make a cure with^

making the entire serum is actually pretty easy, however, it just takes an entirety to cool down and if not giving at the right temperature, or at least close to it, Chanyeol dies.

fun.

and of course, right when the cure is about to be ready, your brother wakes up.

and it’s not him speaking.

it’s that fucking right eyes.

a loud crash comes from the living room, at which you three snap your heads towards the source of the noise. you immediately look at Baekhyun who cringes at whatever he’s hearing.

“what is it?”

“First off, that fucking voice is annoying and two,” the platinum silver male squints before pulling you to the side just in time to see a chair fly into the room and travel right where you were. “that eye has a vendetta against you.”

“hUh?”

as if your luck couldn’t get any better, that disgusting high ass voice rings through the compound, “come out here you punny bitch, I want another eye, a real one this time ha ha!”

“oh my gosh she sounds like Yumeko but like… computer voice Yumeko with reverb.”

“who?” you brushed Junmyeon off, “don’t worry about it, figure out a way to cool that thing down, you’re smart, figure it out. And Baek, I need ears so come with me.”

you just ran all the way to the living room while Baekhyun was helping you avoid anything she threw at you, including Jongin’s body.

when you arrived, you cringed really really hard, “you will catch me doing many things but you will never fucking catch me looking at that.” you gagged. “oh my gosh why is that fucking eye out of his fucking socket!?”

“It’s sci-fi!”

you screamed at the black haired male with a terrified expression, “when was this ever fiction?!”

“not the time!” Jongdae yelled at Sehun who’s finger had turned into a flamethrower.

a flamethrower.

Sehun is the least out of your fucking concerns but a flamethrower.

“we aren’t burning my brother!”

“oh my,” his voice made you want to hurl, not only was your brother giving you this really creepy smile but he sounded like your favorite anime protagonist. “she’s really cute when she’s mad!”

“oh shit.”

oh shit is right Jongdae, oh shit is right.

you don’t remember what happened but your eyes saw red, oops.

you remember saying something along the lines of, “you think I’m pretty when mad? well love, I’m about to be fucking gorgeous!”

and suddenly you were on his back bashing his head in with your fists.

which you know hurts because when you woke up, your knuckles were red and sore and Chanyeol had a gauze on the back of his head and a mild concussion.

apparently Junmyeon was able to cool down the serum just when you were about to kill your own brother because the AI in his eye called you ‘cute when mad’.

you were raised by that man, what was he expecting?

22 notes · View notes