Confused Blake

He/Him | British | Requests: Closed

[confusedblakex]

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[comfortwriting]

It started with a Shirley Temple | Eddie Munson x Male Reader

Masterlist, Navigation, Request Rules

summary: when your job moves you to work in Hawkins for 6 months, you become a regular at The Hideout and fall for Eddie Munson.

Male!reader, goth/punk! reader, mention of Chrissy Cunningham (platonic), mention of steddie (unrequited love)

warnings: brief mention of fears of homophobia but no exploration of those themes. major fluff. I didn’t proofread.

word count: 1.9k

When your boss delivered the news that you had to move out of the East Coast and to Hawkins to continue your work, you were excited and looked forward to the change: new people, new surroundings, new places to discover and explore, perhaps a chance of finding Mr Right.

All of these little flickers of excitement and plans quickly fizzled out when you realised just how... boring Hawkins was. You missed the East Coast, and its constant activity day and night. You loved finishing work and going out to the bars with your friends, watching bands perform and having a few drinks before calling it a night.

You missed your home and decorated room with posters and pictures of all the things that made you... you. Posters of The Damned, Bad Religion, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and The Cure were seen everywhere in your room; you made sure to bring some of these posters with you for the move.

When moving to Hawkins, you were limited to accommodation options. You didn't want to share an apartment or house with a total stranger (all the ads for a roommate were either from elderly residents who needed the extra cash, or women who wanted other women to live with them), and as a man who liked other men, you didn't want to risk finding yourself living with a homophobe; you were out in East Coast; your friends knew and accepted you, your boss knew and protected you against other employees.

Sure, the accommodation would've been cheaper if you moved in with a granny or a young woman, but you told your work you'd be willing to work overtime if it meant you could cover the difference when it came to the rent they couldn't cover. Luckily, they accepted, but it meant you were now living in a rundown trailer in Forest Hills.

Forest Hills wasn't so bad, your neighbours kept to themselves, and at least you had a space big enough to park your Hearse after a tiring day. You were able to fix up the trailer without needing a plumber or any other fixer-uppers, and you were able to decorate it closely to what your room looked like back home. You were only in Hawkins for six months, but you wanted to make the most of it, and plain white walls were an eyesore.

You were coming to the end of your shift, and you could feel the burnout in the muscles in your arms, legs, and a strong vice that gripped your brain. You were exhausted from the grind, and you couldn't stand the loneliness anymore; as soon as you were refreshed from the shower, you were heading out to The Hideout for a drink and hopefully some decent music. You overheard from the local metalheads that the remote bar was the only venue that played live music; you'd have to travel twenty miles to find any others.

You carefully put on your pencil eyeliner on your waterline and around your eyes, you then grabbed your plastic drugstore comb and started to backcomb your hair, applying generous amounts of hairspray. You stared at yourself in the dinkie bathroom mirror and left feeling confident and satisfied.

At first, when you drove into the gravelly parking lot and pulled up to The Hideout, you were taken aback by the bricked-up windows, but upon entering the cigarette smoke-filled bar, you fell in love with its unique atmosphere of neon lights and dirty carpet that desperately needed cleaning. You made your way over to the bar, unbothered by the sleeves of your spiked leather jacket brushing against the sticky countertops.

A stunning young man walked over to you, "What can I get you?" he said loudly over the music.

"Could I grab a Shirley Temple?" You replied, smiling at him.

"I haven't made one of those in a while. Everyone is a borderline alcoholic here, but sure thing, sorry if it sucks," he laughed lightly, "nice jacket by the way."

"It's a good job I don't drink," you said a little quietly, not wanting to offend the regulars.

As your bartender turned around and grabbed a tall, clean glass and filled it with ice, you were thankful for the neon lights; a genuine compliment like that made your cheeks start to burn and go pink.

He started to pour the grenadine syrup over the ice when another man's voice called out from behind you, pushing himself to the front of the bar. "Eddie, you ready to go?" You quickly glanced at him, noticing he was wearing the same shirt as Eddie: Corroded Coffin.

'How Ironic' you thought.

"Yeah, man, let me finish this cocktail, and I'll be on my way." Eddie topped the syrup with a blend of chilled ginger beer and a lemon-lime soda. He added a lime wedge and a maraschino cherry.

"Here you are," he handed you the drink rather than sliding it across the counter, "that'll be fifty cents."

You took a sip, nodding with approval, "Not bad, I'm impressed, and fifty cents? Are you sure?" You put your hand into your jeans pocket, grabbing your wallet.

"Yeah, we usually charge that amount for beers to draw in more customers; we rarely make cocktails, so I've kinda forgotten the prices," he scratched the back of his head, laughing lightly again.

You took out fifty cents and a ten-dollar bill. "Here's your tip for the effort before you clock off for the night."

Eddie's eyes lit up at your tip, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," you smirked, "I rarely get such an attentive bartender."

Eddie smirked back and licked his lips, sneakily pocketing his tip, "Thanks, I appreciate it.. but I'm not clocking off just yet," he pointed to the stage, "If I bartend here most nights, my manager reserves Tuesdays for my band to play, ten pm."

Tuesdays, ten pm.

You were relieved he wasn't going so soon, you were easily hooked on his charm, his easygoing nature, and his looks were a bonus: gorgeous curly hair and soft doe eyes.

You pointed your finger at his shirt, "corroded coffin? sounds like the kinda band I'd like."

"I hope so," Eddie dried his hands on a small white cloth, "we could do with more fans."

Corroded Coffin were underrated, and Eddie's stage presence had you starstruck. Eddie and his bandmates were working hard, and you admired their drive and enthusiasm. Tuesday became your favourite day of the week, and you made sure to make it one of your days off. You counted down the hours until the bar opened and you'd get the same shirlet temple, made by Eddie every time. You were on a first-name basis, and Eddie spent most of his bartending shift catching up with you in between serving the fifty-cent beers; you even stayed until closing.

After Corroded Coffin performed, you noticed a sudden change in Eddie; he looked stressed and a little down. You weren't able to have your usual catch-up with him because he turned up late to his shift and only just made it in time to perform. He noticed you in the crowd (you were at the front and not hard to miss), and his eyes widened when he noticed you were wearing a Corroded Coffin shirt you purchased earlier on from Gareth.

When he climbed off the stage after packing up with his band, you approached him, "Everything okay, Eds?" you asked, "You've not been yourself today."

You realised you had called him the nickname you had given him in your head, the one you found yourself calling out in your dreams and telling your friends about.

Eddie swallowed hard and sighed, "My van broke down, and the guys can't give me a lift home, my uncle is working late, and I've got nothing for a cab."

"Want me to give you a lift home? It wouldn't be a problem."

Eddie's frown dissipated immediately, and his gorgeous doe eyes lit up again, "A-are you sure? I live in Forest Hills, which won't be too far for you, right?"

Your heart skipped a beat. What are the chances you lived in the same place? Despite the last month of getting to know Eddie, you realised that you never really shared where you lived, or that you drove a Hearse.

"You gotta be shitting me," you said in disbelief, "I live in one of those trailers!"

Eddie broke out into a large smile, "I guess some things are meant to be, huh?"

The neon lights couldn't hide your blush this time, and Eddie didn't seem to mind. You grabbed your Hearse keys out of your pocket, twirling them around your finger, "Shall we hit the road?"

"No way this is yours!" Eddie said excitedly, running over to the Hearse, "How have I not noticed it all this time and put things together that it was yours?! This shit is so creepy yet cool!"

You loved his enthusiasm and studied him carefully, every movement of his making your heart sing.

"When you guys have your first proper photoshoot or music video, feel free to borrow it, if it fits your vision, of course." You unlocked the Hearse doors and opened the door for Eddie, “feel free to put your guitar in the back, or not” before getting into the driver's seat.

"That would be fucking awesome, dude," Eddie clipped on his seatbelt, keeping his guitar with him “my sweetheart doesn’t go in the back.”

On the drive home, the two of you started to share more personal things about each other. You were sad to learn that Eddie's mum passed away when he was young, and his dad became a deadbeat. Then he lost an old friend, a sweet cheerleader named Chrissy.

"I'm sorry for your loss. It seems like you both really like one another." You drove slowly into the trailer park, trying not to startle the small yappy dog.

"It wasn't really like that, she had a boyfriend and..." Eddie hesitated for a moment, "I was in love with my best friend's best friend, he didn't feel the same and was hung up on his ex-girlfriend."

You parked the Hearse outside Eddie's trailer, your heart thumping in your chest.

There's a chance for us then..

"I know what that feels like," you broke the silence, calming Eddie's panic, "Before moving here, I was in love with some guy who didn't know what he wanted. He stood me up, and the next day I bumped into him holding hands and laughing away with a girl he never told me about."

Eddie frowned, "it sucks, doesn't it?" he unclipped his seatbelt, "Thanks for the ride,"

"Eddie, before you go, can I be honest with you about something?"

It was now or never, and you didn't want any regrets. In five months, you would be heading back home, and there was a chance you'd never see Eddie again. Although you had a little while longer to tell him how you felt, your first month in Hawkins went fast, and you couldn't risk missing your shot. What did you have to lose?

"Even though I've only known you for what, a month? I care for you so deeply, and I can't deny how I feel. I'm so attracted to you, your hair, your eyes, the way you smile when you see me walk up to the bar. You're so fucking kind, genuine, and I'd be hurting myself and you if I buried these feelings away. I'm not ashamed to say openly that I want you, Eddie, I want you."

Eddie stayed quiet for a moment and leaned in. As soon as you leaned in and your lips touched, you couldn't stop the desperation and hunger you had for each other. Your hand held the back of Eddie's head, and you could finally feel his hair brush between your fingers. Eddie's hand interlocked with your freehand and he squeezed your hand tight.

Breaking out of the hot and wet kiss, Eddie breathed out, bit his lip and said, "Do you want to spend the night?"

"Yes," you replied, "so badly."

if you enjoyed reading this or want to support my work: please reblog!

[confusedblakex]

I have read this thrice within 24 hours

This has made my day quite literally

[bl4x-arr0w]

Can we get literally anything with Steve Rogers x Male Reader please?

I beg of you! 🙏🙏

𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇

PAIRING: Pre-serum!Steve x Seargent!Male!Reader x Seargent!Bucky

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑺𝑻, 𝑭𝑳𝑼𝑭𝑭, 40s homophobia, caring!male-reader, allusions to stucky x male reader, kissing but no sex (due to context). First time writing for Steve. Something else is going to be published for him. I am not happy how this turned out though...

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 (𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔 (𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃, 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐌𝐀,) + 1.

You grew up in the suburbs of Brooklyn, tough place for children since it was filled with drug dealers, guns and violence. You had to learn hoe to sneak around and tuck your tail between your legs when necessary. Until one day.

You made your usual route to the grocery store, your ma' gave you some bucks to spend on honey and usual groceries since she wanted to make a good or decent dinner.

You were kicking some rocks on the run down street when you heard shouting and yelling. You arched an eyebrow and went to see what was going on behind the walls of a crumbling house. Here there were 6 boys circling someone and yelling profanities at him, you could see from the way he was sitting on the ground that he couldn't get up.

He was scrowny, skin and bones maybe and somehow you caught up his name being yelled. "Steven". You didn't like it one bit, you knew the six boys at heart, a bunch of bitches that always got away with everything because their fathers were either generals or bank owners.

You ran to them and at that speed you hit hard the biggest that fell with his face on the ground. The other looked at you with rage at charged but they were clumsy...too well fed so it was easy to just let them fall and hit them with punches.

It took 15 mintes of yelling and shouting and punching that the police was called. You got thrown into the ground quite a few times and many cuts and bruises were now all over your body but you didn't care. You saw how the policeman escorted the delinquents out and you managed to catch your breath and looked back at the guy on the ground.

He was around your age, 11 or so you thought. "You ok? You don't really know how to defend yourself...you are scrowny, I can se the outline of the bones in your wrist" you offered him a hand.

"You are Steve? Why were they picking on you?" He got up and brushed off some grime off his clothes. "I think it is because I am of a lower class than them" he talked lowly not looking at you.

"I can see it, these clothes are way bigger than you, you sure you don't fall in these?" you picked the hem of the shirt and tugged it playfully.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃

Both you and Steve are now in your twenties.

You went to the florist, the sweet old lady that run the shop was always there when young hearts of men wanted to conquer the difficult one of women. Your case was different though, you wanted to win the heart of a man that couldn't even see colors very well.

You explained your problem to the lady, not telling the fact that you were dating a boy and she decided to give you some yellow and white ones. They were beautiful, roses with tulips. Sure they were quiet expensive for your pockets but who cared.

You thanked her and dashed to him home. Valentines day uh? You stopped on your tranks and just stared at his door. You wanted to take him to lunch and out to dinner, even seeing a movie that recently got published and was quiet endearing.

Why couldn't two guys just..show love? A second world war was about to break out and people were scared of two men holding hands? You hated that.

You almost threw them away when that sane part of you just said "well you are no different from them if you throw these away".

You knocked of his door and waited some time for him to answer. You heard that familiar "wait, coming!" and long long after you heard the doorknob twist.

No no, wait I didn't prepare a speech! Nevermind he was hugging you in an instant. To say you were sweating is an understatement. My god your back was turning into a Lake.

"Well pretty boy, don't you have something to give me?" he smirked as he tried not to laugh right then and there. "No I don't" you stated back. "Aw come on, if these aren't for your boyfriend I wonder who they are for" he got them from your hands.

"You remembered...they are beautiful. I can see em" you relaxed after he said that. "Why wouldn't I? They are for you, I should be gifting something that you can enjoy".

You got inside and put your coat on the rack. "I had a little program but I don't think we can do that".

"You wanted to take me to the cinema fpr that movie?!" you nodded frantically."Who cares what people say! I wanna go see that come on!"

𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐌𝐀

It was winter, specifically December. The night was colder than normal and you could see the dead branched of the trees cracking under the weight of the snow. It piled on the small crevice of the windows, forming small hills of fluffyness that gave away that feeling of Christmas. You put on your blue t-shirt as you exited the small bathroom of the house.

You and Steve decided to spend the night to Bucky's as your was too cold and the owner of the apartaments was late with the opening of the heating conducts since they were old and needed maintenence.

In the bedroom there were Steve and Bucky, the smaller man was tucked under the sheets he breathed heavely and his throat was hoars. He could barely speak and he was coughing like crazy. He finished his meds and the next batch, at the pharmacy, was delayed since rumors of an upcoming war started circling and people began making excuses of all kinds to delay payments or goods.

"It is getting worse?" you asked as you entered the bedroom. Bucky looked at you with sad eyes and then went back at looking at Steve. "We used the last inhaler, he isn't getting any better..."

You went to the other side of the bed and hopped on. Steve was glad he had his two boyfriends to take care of him but he hated his physiology. He was scrowny, he couldn't properly grow a beard and he just...looked like a runt.

He felt you two from either side of him, the bed accomodating the weight. Your hands massaged the center of his chest while Bucky rested his head on his shoulder.

𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄

Steve pushed you back on the mattress, his legs both strangling your lap. Your back was hot against the mattress and his cold hands unbottoned your shirt. You felt yourself growing at bit harder (thank god you had your tight uniform pants). "God I love this part of you, perfectly shaped" he rest a finger between your collarbone and passed it until he was at the center of your chest. He hand opened until his palm rested fully. "Warm even".

You didn't know what to do, you were in your private quarters and a captain could come in anytime. "Steve, we can't, not here" you looked frantically at the door as your hands stadied his hips.

"But you seem to enjoy it" he teased as he grounded himself tighter. He looked down, he loved the faint happy trail, though it would've been better if it wasn't trimmed.

"Listen, after I do this meeting, I will personally drag you home and I'll let you see the stars ok?" you picked him up effortlessy and put him down on your bed as you then got up and started buttoning up your shirt.

He looked down at the floor then back at you, "what if I follow you?" you stopped and then looked at him confused before you understood. "Steve, look at me..." you knelt down. "you can't, I hate to say this but with this body of yours you would break...if not in the first day then the next! You will just have to wait...I will go on this mission and then I'll come back...no need for you to get injured."

You kissed him on the forehead and hugged him. "Though I would love that people just... weren't scared of two men holding hands" you sighed sadly.

He ruffled your short hair, "you are right".

TAGLIST: @vibrantsavagerydoom

[confusedblakex]

I highly enjoyed this and I need more of 1940s Marvel.

Let me begin a tag for fanfictions I enjoy

[confusedblakex]

I just learned how to reblog.

Only 6 years late.

Hollis and their friends tell me I should have known this already.

[elixirfromthestars]

Anytime I catch a typo in something I already posted, a little part of me dies inside 🫠

[confusedblakex]

Fandoms List

I will write for:

Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin

Avatar: the Last Airbender (AtLA)

Big Hero 6

Black Butler / Kuroshitsuji

Castlevania

Death Note

Harry Potter

LEGO Ninjago: Masters of Spinjitsu

Marvel Avengers (MCU)

Nowhere Boys

Rise of the Guardians

Star Trek: Enterprise

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds

Star Trek: The Original Series

The Arcana (Nyx Hydra)

Treasure Planet

Voltron: Legendary Defender

There are also some other fandoms that I will write for but do not take requests for.

Request rules here

Please note: I no longer write for My Hero Academia/BNHA

[confusedblakex]

Cigarettes in the snow

Pairing: James 'Bucky' Barnes X HYDRA Reader (GN)

Summary: In 1944, you are sent by HYDRA to monitor the information sent to and from the Howling Commandos, but love and loyalty do not always come hand in hand.

Wordcount: 2,325

Warnings: TW - Guns, Threats, Talk of death and self-sacrifice, Angst

Inspired by: Dangerously Yours episode 1 (Masquerade)

Notes: No use of (y/n); This has nothing to do with cigarettes

Last edited: 9th December 2025

The SSR had been infiltrated long before Zola.

The Howling Commandos had just retaken a HYDRA outpost in the countryside of France. It was a country crumbling from war, and HYDRA’s secrets lay beneath cobbled streets in a network of corruption. You were among those sent over by the SSR to assist with intelligence and translation.

‘Translation’.

In reality, you were there to ensure HYDRA’s darker secrets never saw daylight, to make sure that the SSR only knew what they were allowed to know. No matter how grim the secrets, the details didn’t matter to you, your mission was simply to keep an eye on the Americans. Armed with fake smiles and a false name, no one would suspect you.

Except the day you met the Howling Commandos - the day you met him - all of that seemed to fade into the background.

Bucky Barnes, without the bravado of the papers, not the dashing war hero. Just the man whose mind yearned for the shooting to stop and who dreamed of remembering true gentleness.

It started innocently. You weren’t expected to get close to anyone, you only needed to be close enough to know what they knew, to track their movements. You had always been good at that, blending into a crowd like cigarette smoke.

But Bucky didn’t let you fade into the background.

He’d get you burnt-tasting ration coffee when cold mornings had your breath fog in the air. He’d offer you his jacket when the snow fell, even if he was cold himself. He’d look at you with that soft smile of his lips when he thought you weren’t looking. Just the little things.

He noticed you. Noticed the way you were always deep in thought, the way you muttered in German under your breath as you translated.

“Didn’t know you spoke that much German,” he’d muttered with a crooked smile, handing you a warm thermos as you sat with cypher tables scattered in front of you. 

“You’d be surprised what I know,” you’d answered flatly, and you meant it more than you wanted to.

Friendship buried itself somewhere where it didn’t belong, and you didn’t try to stop it. It felt natural, like it was simply inevitable.

Just as you decoded cyphers and translated documents, you began to see more in the way Bucky’s voice softened when he talked about his home and stayed during late-night translation sessions, even though he had no reason to.

“You don’t have to stay,” you had told him, eyes fixed on the papers in front of you, not daring to meet his gaze.

“No, but maybe I want to,” he had said.

That was the night you realised you’d stopped sending HYDRA full reports. You had left out certain movements. Locations. Names.

You didn’t know when exactly your loyalty had begun its slow, treacherous shift, but deep down somewhere you knew it had everything to do with him.

You fell for James Barnes. Quickly, quietly, completely.

And, damn him, he fell just as hard.

The ‘simple mission’ had gone from months to years slowly, but HYDRA was patient.

You and Bucky danced around something neither of you dare say during a war. It was too fragile, too precious.

They never questioned your loyalty, they really believed you were an SSR agent. And sometimes you almost convinced yourself too.

You became accustomed to hearing the radio static late at night, to documents in languages no one else knew, to lying through your teeth - both to the SSR and HYDRA.

Every day it got harder to send HYDRA half-truths, harder not to warn the Commandos when you knew something waited ahead. Harder not to choose them. Not to choose him.

One night, the two of you sat together by the dwindling fire outside, after Bucky had insisted you leave your desk and give your body a break from being hunched over papers.

The silence was comfortable, but gentle with something unspoken. His hair fell somewhat messily after a day of work, but somehow he still looked so perfect. You thought you had been watching him inconspicuously, but he turned to look at you with a smug look in his eyes.

You didn’t look away.

His shoulder brushed yours as you sat together, and neither of you could move. The warmth that radiated from him was so close, as though to reach out and touch him might just take you from the battlefield and to some perfect reality where everything was simpler.

“You ever think about what comes after?” he asked suddenly, and your brain took a moment to catch up.

“After the war?” you asked, watching his eyes closely as the smugness softened. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke again.

“I think about it when I look at you,” he said quietly, words gentle as though speaking them too loud would break something.

Your breath caught in your throat and there was simply nothing you could say.

It wasn’t a confession. Not quite. But it was close, dangerously so.

“James-” you whisper, your pulse quickening as you watched the flutter of his eyelashes as his gaze dropped briefly to your lips. Quickly, they flicked back up to meet your eyes again, as if embarrassed by his own thoughts that you could read so easily.

The moment stretched, gentle but sharp and dangerous.

If you leaned in... just a little-

But the truth sat heavy in your chest. In the darkness behind your eyelids you could see every lie, every deception, and your imaginings conjured the look of betrayal on his face when he inevitably found the truth.

There was no reality in which love was so simple.

So you pulled back slowly, just enough for him to notice the new space between you.

His expression faltered, but he too withdrew. He didn’t push, he simply let the moment pass - that moment you so desperately wanted to burn into your heart and never let go.

“Sorry,” he murmured softly, “long day... we should get some sleep.”

He stood and walked away, leaving the longing by the dying fire, letting you sit and wish you were someone else. Someone he deserved, someone who could love him.

One evening, after the boys were back from some mission - another HYDRA base, you could only assume - a sudden hush fell over the makeshift camp. There was an odd coolness lingering in the air that day, but now it only felt worse.

The static of the radio was loud in your ears before you shut off the device, hearing heavy boots on the snow outside your tent.

Steve burst in, oddly cautious. Behind him, Bucky followed and stopped frozen as he met your gaze.

You opened your mouth to speak but shut it again quickly once you saw the look on their faces. Then you frowned.

“What’s going on?” you tried, feigning confusion. Acting as though you didn’t know what was about to happen, praying to whatever god would listen that you were wrong.

Steve looked at you - analysed you - with such a guarded stance you almost winced.

“HYDRA have had a spy amongst us, we’ve suspected it for months. Data disruption, covert reporting... It’s you, isn’t it?” Steve said slowly, almost hesitantly.

“Tell me he’s wrong,” Bucky pleaded, taking a step forward.

You’d been trained for everything. To fight, to act, to take off and never be seen again. But nothing in the world could have prepared you for the pure, unfiltered panic in his voice.

But what could you do? Fight them? Lie more? Run? Your pulse rang loud in your ear and keeping yourself looking as though your world wasn’t falling apart around you was becoming harder by the second. 

“Say something!” Bucky yelled, he was practically trembling.

But what was there to say?

You risked looking to him, to the fear and betrayal that you dreaded seeing on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice breaking as you try to speak, but Bucky’s eyes flared with anger.

“No!” He yelled, fear and anger and pain all swirling in his mind. 

“I’m sorry-”

Bucky pulled the pistol from his holster, his knuckles white as he held the grip. His aim fixed on you.

“Buck...” Steve whispered as he quickly moved to hold Bucky’s shoulder, but he eased when he noticed Bucky’s finger didn’t dare go near the trigger.

“It’s okay,” you told Steve, offering him a weak smile of reassurance - but that meant very little now.

You simply sat there, pain burning the back of your throat, eyes stinging with tears you wouldn’t let gather.

“If you’re going to shoot me, just do it,” you said, forcing your breaths to remain even, pushing the emotion from your mind,  “HYDRA will kill me for failing them. The SSR will kill me for betraying them.”

It was the truth and he knew it. The gun wavered in his grip as he held it tighter still, but his finger only stayed on the trigger guard.

“You lied to me,” he whispered, like the words physically hurt.

“I know.” you whispered, body tense.

“You used me.” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t-”

“You betrayed me- God, how could you?” he asked, eyes pleading.

It was too personal. Not ‘the team’. Not ‘you betrayed us’. ‘You betrayed me’.

You watched every his every feature carefully, his stance, his body wound tight like his mind. This little world - this lie you let yourself believe in - was no more.

“I didn’t know I’d fall in love with you,” you murmured, letting the truth fall from your lips, with no reason left to lie.

Carefully, you stood and took a step forward, but the pistol was trained on you. Despite the trembling of his hands, he was still a well-trained soldier after all. Steve stood just behind his best friend, shield at the ready and eyes following every single movement either of you made.

“James…” you whispered softly. You only called him that when things got too real, when you wanted to avoid saying something, he knew that much. And your voice only made the betrayal dig that much deeper.

“Don’t. Move.” he bit, tears welling in his eyes that he daren’t blink, “I should pull the trigger for what you did. For what you are.”

The pure fear in his eyes, in his stance. Not fear of you... Fear for you.

“If it makes it easier, I won’t run.” you offer quietly, still standing as though there was no gun between the two of you.

“That doesn’t make it easier!” he yelled, the gun a heavy weight in his iron grip.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Damn it, why can’t I want to hurt you?” he asked, the war raging in his mind, betrayal painted across his expression.

“Because you love me.” the words were thick like a vile-tasting syrup stuck in your throat - words that should have been so sweet, that should have filled your heart with joy. That he loved you.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Silent tears slid down his cheeks and he winced as though the salt was burning his skin. The gun slipped lower, as though it weighed more than even his strength could bear.

“I can’t…” he choked out, “I can’t hurt you.”

Your voice was barely a whisper.

“I know.”

Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s arm, lowering the gun further. 

“Who are you, really?” Bucky asked, eyes begging as he looked to you.

“A coward.” you said, fighting the deeply ingrained desire to run, to cry, to scream. You wanted to console him, to tell him that you were never loyal to HYDRA, but that would simply be lies upon lies. “Someone taught to steal and lie and trade truth for survival.” 

“Someone who fell in love at the worst possible time,” you whispered, admitting nothing but the truth. And he could hear it, the honesty in your words

“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked quietly.

“Because I couldn’t bear to see you look at me the way you’re looking now,” you said, tears finally welling in your eyes as you looked to him, but you didn’t dare let a single one fall.

“Be honest, just tell me,” he asked, taking a steadying breath. “Was any of it true? Any of it at all?” he all but begged, his voice raw.

“Yes.” you answered quickly, “Always, every moment we were together”

“I care about you far more than I should, but I can’t stop myself.” you whispered.

You slowly stepped closer, stepping past the gun in Bucky’s trembling hand until you were only inches away from him. Steve tensed but didn’t interfere.

You looked up at Bucky with a softness that you didn’t think possible to feel for someone. “You want to know who I am?”

He swallowed, eyes following you in confusion, “What?”

“My name, my real name-” you said as you leaned close to him. You whispered your name - your true name - against his ear, letting the soft breath drift over his skin as though you hadn’t just put your very identity in his hands.

It was the only piece of yourself you had left to give.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek as you pulled back. Barely there, just a touch of your lips against skin turned pale from shock.

You stood still as you watched the war raging in his mind, still standing close as his grip adjusted on the pistol.

“Go.” he said suddenly, “Before they find you.”

He looked at you as though memorising every single feature, watching as your eyes widened slightly - in disbelief or reluctance, you didn’t know and it didn’t matter.

“Bucky-” you say quietly, wanting this moment to stretch into eternity. Because you knew you will never see him again.

“GO!” he yelled, tears still falling down his cheeks as you turned and ran from the tent, away from the camp, through the snow, never looking back.

[confusedblakex]

A burning heart (Pt3)

Pairing: Takashi 'Shiro' Shirogane X (Male) Reader

Summary: It had been months, but now your feelings towards Shiro might just get both of you killed.

Wordcount: 1603

Warnings: Imprisonment, Blood, Injury, Angsty

Requested by: Me

Notes: Galra commander reader; Christmas was very busy

Last edited: 13th December 2024

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

You wondered if perhaps all humans were like Shiro. Such fight in them, such spirit.

Your interactions with Shiro were limited due to your status and the lie you had to live to keep the two of you safe. ‘Ownership’ of him.

It felt much more like torture, having to watch him fight weekly.

Shiro always won his fights, enough to garner him the name ‘Champion’. Emperor Zarkon would come to watch him regularly, whenever there was a beast he thought might just end the human’s winning streak.

Your biggest issue became the priestess. Haggar wanted Shiro, and that was something you couldn’t let happen. If she and her druids looked through Shiro’s mind, she would know you were not loyal to the empire. You would be compromised, and consequently, the Blade, Voltron, and Shiro’s safety would be too.

But that wasn’t your current issue.

Shiro’s last fight had been rough. He had won, and his title remained true, but this one had been difficult to watch. The monster Zarkon had wanted the human to face was something wild, enough to where a shield had been put between the arena and the audience.

It was a large winged reptile creature, a dragon-like beast with an armor-plated exoskeleton that was as sharp as the blade Shiro had been given to fight with. A small human fighting something five times his size. And yet he won.

The cost of winning was the cuts in Shiro’s skin, the red bruising across his body, and the deep gash through the back of his right hand.

Throughout the fight, you remained indifferent, allowing yourself to look mildly proud when he won -Galra pride. Inside, you were worried sick. You stood up from your seat as the chatter in the hall grew louder, and you left to collect your Champion. This was routine.

You approached the two sentries on either side of Shiro and dismissed them with a wave. Shiro was in a daze, looking down to his own blood dripping to the floor.

“Champion,” you spoke, attempting to draw him from the state he had fallen into. But he didn’t move, he didn’t even blink.

“Shiro?” you said, much quieter.

His head shot up to look at you, eyes wide with fleeting panic, but was quickly replaced with a mournful look.

“You must accompany me back to my quarters,” you said, quickly turning on your heel to leave. You didn’t want to be in that arena a moment longer, and you knew Shiro wouldn’t want to stay either.

He limped behind you slowly, and you turned, noting his pace and slowing your own to match. He trailed behind you as the two of you passed rows of holding cells and other Galra soldiers who saluted you as you passed by. Not one of them questioned your dynamic with Shiro.

You were thought to be ‘eccentric’ for wanting to keep a gladiator as a pet, and a human at that. But some admired you for wanting to keep a creature so deadly in the arena close to you. It gave you the excuse you needed to have Shiro’s cell in your room and to take him around with you as you pleased.

Shiro stumbled slightly, and you quickly turned to catch him from falling.

“Sorry-” he said instinctually.

“Are you alright?” you whispered quickly. That far away look in his eyes bothered you.

Shiro didn’t respond, instead swallowing what little saliva was in his mouth and attempting to continue walking. You let him take two steps before he once again fell under his own weight. You looked around quickly.

After deciding the two of you were alone, you pulled him up off the floor and heaved him up under his legs. Shiro made some odd sounds of displeasure but was a little too dazed to fully protest as you carried him the rest of the way to your quarters.

---

The human lay silently on your bed, breathing rhythmically, sound asleep. The mattress dipped slightly as you sat down next to him, and you prepared the food you held on a tray.

His skin was still so soft despite all of the scars, dried skin and calluses. His hair - that you did your best to keep in shape - was beginning to turn grey at the front of his hairline.

Shiro stirred and slowly woke, immediately trying to sit himself up on your bed. You watched the pain shoot through his hand as he attempted to move his fingers, and you pushed him to lie back down. You felt an odd sting in your heart, but pushed it away to focus on what you needed to do.

“Don’t move too quickly,” you advised as Shiro’s eyes focused, and he looked over his now heavily bandaged body. You slowly helped him rise and pushed a pillow behind him as he sat up against the headboard. He adjusted to the new position and you held a spoonful of a pale, mushy paste in front of him. He looked up at you hesitantly but nonetheless took a small bite.

“Shi- What the hell is that?” the human complains loudly, sticking his tongue out. You couldn’t help but laugh a little, and Shiro paused at the sound. He smiled a little and you quickly realised what you had done, taking the smile from your face but not quite putting your mask back up.

“I’m not sure. It’s something from a planet with beings similar to humans,” you explained, inspecting the food in the bowl, “it is high in nutrients and should help you recover.”

“It looks like porridge, but it tastes like soggy zucchini,” he remarked.

You licked a little of the end of the spoon and frowned at the taste. While you had no idea what the words Shiro said meant, you agreed that the taste of the food was rather unmatched with its texture.

You put the tray to the side for the time being and handed the human a glass of water. He held it carefully with one hand, and attempted to raise the other but grunted and put his hand back down to the bed.

His hand that you had wrapped so tight, you hoped it would reduce his movement and help with his pain. His hand that had been sliced through completely, damaging his muscles and tendons. And you hated to see him in pain like this.

He took a moment to close his eyes before taking a sip of the water. Once he had enough, he leaned over you, reaching to place the glass back on the table before dramatically slumping over, leaning his head on your shoulder. He let out a groan and attempted to sit back up again, but you held his shoulder in place, and he gave up quickly, resting on your shoulder once more.

The physical contact was comforting, and for some reason you could feel your mask slipping again.

“I care for you,” you found yourself saying suddenly. Your voice was oddly gentle.

“And that makes me… afraid,” you confessed. Shiro looked at you with his brows furrowed.

“I have never cared for someone the way I care for you,” you said solemnly, “but I cannot always help you.”

Shiro looked at you, and you motioned to his hand. He could barely move it without being in pain, and he couldn’t fight in this state. You lifted yourself from the bed partially and assisted him in lying down over the bedsheets.

“Haggar and her druids will be able to fix you,” you mentioned, “but once you are with them, you are out of my care, and I cannot intervene.”

“What do you mean?” Shiro asked, looking into your eyes and seeing nothing but worry behind your transparent wall of indifference.

“She’s… a witch. I don’t know what she’ll do to you, and I can’t stop her,” you said slowly.

“But she can heal you,” you told the human, lying down next to him on your bed, “it’s been a struggle keeping you away from her for this long.” Both of you lay across from each other, staring into each other’s eyes, attempting to decode the other’s thoughts.

He was part of something bigger than you. You were so small and insignificant in his life, but you wanted so desperately to be selfish - to spend forever like this with him.

“If she looks in your mind, she’ll see this,” you said to Shiro quietly, “we will be compromised, and you’ll be in even more danger than you already are,”

“What do you suggest? We can’t hide memories,” he asked, choosing his world carefully.

You couldn’t find it within you to answer. You had spent the past few months with this man, trying to endure as little damage came to him as possible. Looking out for both his physical health and his mind. Yet you had somehow gotten too attached.

“(y/n)?” Shiro asked, sounding slightly concerned as he reached out with his good hand to caress your shoulder.

“No… we can’t.” you said softly. Not a complete lie.

You brushed the side of his face with your hand, moving his hair slightly out of his face.

“Shiro, I love you,” you confessed in a whisper. ‘Love’ was not a word you’d ever use lightly, but there was no other way for you to put it. Though you attempted to avoid expressing such emotion, and therefore were not very well versed, you knew how you felt.

But love was complex. And - for Shiro’s own safety - he would remember none of this.

[confusedblakex]

Aliferous: No Time (Pt2)

BEING REWRITTEN

Pairing: Tadashi Hamada X Reader (GN)

Summary: It's been years since you spoke with anyone from SFIT, but out of the blue you get a mysterious call

Wordcount: 2011

Warnings: Wreckless driving, fighting

Series taglist: @newttheglue250 - if you wish to be added to or removed from the taglist please just ask

Notes: Technically where this story begins

Last edited: 27th November 2024

Series Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

### 2nd POV ###

Hisses of pain escaped your lips as you tugged wires out from your shoulder. You slumped into your chair and gave one more tug, and with a click the wires disconnected from your arm. You removed the prosthetic from its place and gently laid it on the table in front of you.

It would need replacing soon... you sighed and ran your hand through your hair, trying to reach for a cloth from the table with your other hand before realising that arm was not connected to your body. You rolled your eyes at yourself and took your hand from your hair to grab the cloth, wiping the prosthetic arm down and cleaning dirt out of all the grooves.

Wasting as little time as possible, you began to break it down, replacing wires, and testing joints. You could feel the metal in your shoulder trying to reach out and rebuild what was missing, but you did your best to ignore it and instead sped up your fixes.

You looked down only to see metal slowly coiling around itself to form the very beginnings of a new arm. You quickly discarded your tools and gathered together the pieces of your arm, carefully putting them back together before reattaching your arm to your body with an uncomfortable ache. The wires put themselves back into place and you felt electricity flow through your arm again. You moved it slowly and it seemed to be a little better than before, but not much.

As you stood up, a text message covered your vision and distracted you. Someone had sent you their location - their live location. The sender had their ID hidden, but they weren’t exactly far.

You debated with yourself for a moment, trying to think logically. The likelihood of this being dangerous was low since not many people at all had access to your number, but was it really worth the risk?

Regardless, you found yourself opening the message and grabbing your helmet off the table.

### Honey Lemon's POV ###

The car slowed to a stop, and caught in the headlights were Hiro and... Baymax? Wasabi turned off the vehicle and we all got out at once.

“No, no, no!” Hiro said, clearly panicking, “Get out of here! Go!”

“Dude, what are you doing out here?” Wasabi asked him. We were all slowly walking toward him despite him wanting us to leave.

“Nothing! Just out for a walk. Helps my pubescent mood swings…” though it was very obvious he was lying and I was so worried for the boy.

“Is that Baymax?” Wasabi asked, and Gogo walked over to the robot, observing him closely.

“Why is he wearing carbon fibre underpants?” She asked, pointing at the robot in question.

“I also know karate,” Baymax added, not understanding our confusion.

Gogo threw a concerned look at Hiro, but we all looked behind the car once we heard a loud noise approaching. Someone on a motorcycle pulled up next to the car, and the second they removed their helmet, I felt my heart stop for a moment. I’m sure Gogo’s did too.

It was (y/n). They looked at us all through their prosthetic eyes with a raised eyebrow, until their eyes landed on Hiro who stood with a confused expression. They stared at Hiro for a second longer and then sighed, waiting for someone to say something.

“You need to go, all of you need to go,” Hiro tried again, pleading with us, but I didn’t want to see him do this to himself.

“No, don't push us away, Hiro, we're here for you.” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “That's why Baymax contacted us.”

“Oh great, I got messaged by a robot…” I heard (y/n) mumble as they ran a gloved hand through their hair.

“Those who suffer a loss require support from friends and loved ones.” Baymax stated, moving so we all stood in a semi-circle with (y/n) off to the side a little. 

“Who would like to share their feelings first?” Hiro’s protests were ignored, he needed this.

“Ooh. I'll go!” Fred practically lept into the middle of the semi-circle and cleared his throat, “Okay, my name is Fred, and it has been 30 days since my last- Holy mother of Megazon!”

We all looked up to see a man dressed in black holding a shipping container above us, looking very menacing. I slowly raised my phone and took a picture, the camera flash startling the masked man.

As the container fell down, Hero. Gogo, Fred and I all tried to run from underneath it, but Wasabi froze. And screamed like a little girl…

Baymax was holding the container up though, and was pushing it back so it didn’t crush us. Hiro instructed us to get in the car, and we all did without question, with Gogo running back to get Hiro when he didn’t follow us.

At this point I had lost track of (y/n), but I spotted them again once I was in the car. There was a red glow emanating from their chest and arm - underneath their clothes - and their black gloves started to burn away at the fingertips.

I didn’t have time to process much else as they threw red lightning from their hands. It didn’t hit the man in the mask directly, but it hit the bots he was controlling. It seemed to stop them all for a moment. But there was no time for questions.

“Okay, now move!” (y/n) yelled, starting up their motorcycle and turning themself around. Wasabi started up the car at (y/n)’s command, despite Hiro’s protesting. Baymax flew through the air and landed on the roof of the car, leaving a Baymax-shaped dent in the roof. The masked man had got his bots back, and I was vaguely aware of (y/n)’s yelling from outside the car.

Wasabi started driving in reverse as quickly as he could, and Gogo was interrogating Hiro about the situation. (y/n) was ahead of us - technically behind - and bots came flooding towards us. Hiro yelled for Baymax to do something, and once he did the car spun uncontrollably, almost hitting (y/n).

Once Wasabi had control of the car again, a chase ensued.

“Hard left!” Gogo yelled, and Wasabi reacted as quickly as he could, yelling as he turned. In the back of the car, we were being thrown around as we had neglected to strap in from the panic of escaping. (y/n) was now behind us, keeping up with the car surprisingly well.

Fred stared out the back window next to me, watching the masked man as he chased us.

“That mask, the black suit…” Fred spoke out loud, “We're under attack from a supervillain, people!” I shook my head vigorously, hoping this all wasn't real.

Then Wasabi broke. Hard. My head nearly whacked against the back of the seat in front and I think (y/n) nearly drove into the back of the car.

“Why are we stopped?” Gogo asked.

“The light's red!”

“There are no red lights in a car chase!” I could tell Gogo was getting increasingly annoyed at Wasabi’s high-speed, high-pressure driving skills.

A phone rang somewhere and then stopped after two rings, I picked up my own phone even though it wasn’t my ringtone. Before I could even look at my screen, something was put in front of my face.

“Honey, hold this,” Gogo instructed as she handed me her own phone. There was a call on loudspeaker - it was (y/n).

“What the hell, guys?” they yelled. I looked out the window and saw them to the side of the car, keeping somewhat close to us but far enough away so that we couldn’t hit them.

“Why is he trying to kill us?” Wasabi asked, he then stuck his head out of the windows and yelled the same question but now directed at the masked man, “Why are you trying to kill us?”

“It's classic villain, we've seen too much!” Fred immediately said.

“Let's not jump to conclusions. We don't know he's trying to kill us.” I spoke up, trying to keep things positive.

Fred then shouted something and I saw a car had been thrown at us. (y/n) swerved out of the way in one direction and we severed in the other.

“He's trying to kill us!” I yelled before thinking.

“Honey, calm down!” (y/n) shouted back through the call, I looked out of the back window and saw they were behind us again.

“Did you just put your blinker on?” Gogo asked in response to the green flashing light in the front.

“Wasabi, oh my God!” (y/n) said through the call.

“You have to indicate your turn! It's the law!” Wasabi replied to the two in defence.

“That's. It.” Gogo took her gum out of her mouth and stuck it to the dash. She pulled Wasabi’s seat back and sat practically on him.

“(y/n),” she yelled so the phone would pick her up, “stick with me,”

“Gotcha.” and that was the calmest I’d ever heard them speak.

Gogo then put the car into four-wheel drive and sped up - a lot.

(y/n) veered around corners, either behind us or next to us, it was as though they knew exactly what direction Gogo would turn next. We fled down roads and alleyways, the weight of the situation only just keeping up with the car. I didn’t think we were even going anywhere, just trying to shake this evil guy off our tail.

As we turned another corner, the man in the mask appeared in front of us and Gogo sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. There was a lip on the side of the road and a bridge behind where the villain waited for us.

“Gogo Tomago, don’t you dare-” (y/n) shouted through the call,  Gogo either didn’t hear them or ignored them as she turned the car sideways and it flew through the air, narrowly missing all the microbots. I caught Max jumping off his motorcycle midair from the corner of my eye, and I screamed as the car jolted and we landed back on road. Then there was a thud from the roof.

“Open a window in the back!” (y/n) asked from the call, and I wound my window all the way down. The call ended after that and I worried I had broken Gogo’s phone for a second, but (y/n) crawled in through the window from the roof like some weird contortionist.

“Stop the car! Baymax and I can take this guy-” Hiro climbed into the front of the car and leaned on the door, only for the door to be ripped off by microbots that were most likely aiming for (y/n). Baymax caught Hiro before he could fall, returning him to his seat and strapping him in.

“Gogo, my bike…” (y/n) mumbled as they slumped down into the seat next to me.

“I’ll get you a new one,” Gogo replied, too focused on driving.

She sped up even more as we approached a level crossing, and she made it through with expert skill - narrowly missing the oncoming train - and a lot of scared yelling from the passengers. There was now a train between the masked man and us.

“Did we lose him?” I asked, hopeful that this might be over.

“Look out!” Wasabi yelled before I could get any answer, a tunnel of microbots forming around us. Gogo sped up to the car’s absolute limit and kept driving, but the microbots formed around us at an equal speed.

“Baymax, hold on!” Hiro instructed the robot on the roof.

“We’re not gonna make it!” Wasabi said, and I countered this with my own.

“We’re gonna make it!” It was more for me than everybody else, though I wasn’t sure how much I believed it.

Everyone in the car - other than Gogo and (y/n) - screamed as we broke through the end of the tunnel and onto… a pier.

Gogo slammed the breaks, but the car didn’t slow in time.

The water- Cold- Air-

[confusedblakex]

A burning quiet (Pt2)

Pairing: Takashi 'Shiro' Shirogane X (Male) Reader

Summary: This 'human'... a being so soft, so delicate, and yet his power was not drawn from hate. He is like you.

Wordcount: 1848

Warnings: Imprisonment, Mentions of war

Requested by: Me

Notes: Galra commander reader; My final goodbye to Voltron as it leaves Netflix

Last edited: 25th November 2024

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Shiro awoke with a start.

“Matt! Sam?” he called out, eyes darting across the room… no, cell. Where was he?

The room was bathed in a soft purple glow, a smooth marble floor and cold metal walls. A rectangle of thin fabric lay over him and he shook it off onto the floor.

One of the walls was an energy shield, the reason for the purple glow. Without a thought, Shiro jumped up to his feet and pounded at the shield, his hand stinging at the contact. It felt like thick glass.

It only took a moment before he gave up, opting instead to see what he could find outside his cell.

The room outside his was a bedroom. Stuffed animal heads decorated the wall, and a large bed  in the centre of the room - directly opposite his cell. Between him and the bed was a two-person table with two chairs on a small rug, and little else in the room. The door on the right side wall was shut.

Shiro was alone. Alone in a cell in a bedroom on a ship in space.

He vaguely remembered the recent events. His capture, Sam being sent off to the labour colony, the area. He remembered attacking Matt to take his place in the queue. He remembered managing to kill the gladiator that he had been sent to fight, and he remembered two Galra commanders fighting for him like property.

That’s right, the purple man with the axe won.

Shiro’s thoughts cut short when the room lit up in a yellow light. The door to the bedroom slid open and heavy footsteps sounded on the stone floor.

---

You walked into your room, a bowl carried carefully under your left arm. With a wave of your hand, the lights in the room turned on and the door locked behind you. The Earthling you had caged was standing by the energy shield, glaring at you.

“Where am I?” he demanded, “Let me go!”

You languidly made your way over to your bed, opening a hidden drawer under the mattress and throwing - what Shiro made out to be - a knife into it. You looked up to see the man’s glare and rolled your eyes.

“Well I would if you’d let me get to the door,” you said, as you walked over to the cell and pressed your hand to the control panel. The purple energy shield phased away quickly, and the Earthling stayed standing still. Uncomfortably lingering in his open cell - you were standing too close. He didn’t trust you.

You backed away from the cell, moving towards the table and pulling out a chair.

“Sit.” you commanded. You pulled out your own chair, and sat down, trying your best to look polite and relaxed. The Earthling warily sat down across from you, physically on edge and prepared to run at any moment.

You gently placed the bowl you had been carrying onto the table, carefully pushing it towards him. The Earthling looked down at the bowl, small magenta grape-like things filling it to its brim.

“Oxoco berries,” you clarified calmly, “they will help you regain your strength after your fight, help your body heal. They’re sweet and a little tart.”

The Earthling looked down at the berries again, picking one out of the bowl and rolling it between his fingers, seemingly evaluating it.

“Do you remember how you got here?” you asked to break the odd quiet that had overtaken the room.

“Not fully,” the Earthling admitted after a moment’s hesitation. You huffed air through your nose quietly, realising you weren’t going to get any more out of his as he sniffed the berry in his hand.

“You are on one of the Galra Empire’s flagships. You were found by one of the Empire’s commanders on one of the outer planets of your solar system and bought here, where you were deemed fit enough to fight and fought in a gladiator arena for Galra entertainment,” you told him, trying to keep it concise but accurate, “after you somehow defeated Myzax, I fought for ownership of you.”

“You cut off his arm,” the Earthling said, staring at you. He popped the oxoco berry between his fingers, the deep red juice splattering down his hand. He was odd, almost like he was constantly judging your every move, so on edge.

“Eat,” you reminded him, “if I was going to poison you I wouldn’t have fought for you,”

Your rationalisation seemed to work, as the Earthling looked at you a moment longer, then back to the berry juice on his hand. He tentatively licked at it, smudging a little on his lips.

“They taste like cranberries, a berry back on Earth,” he said quietly, picking another from the bowl.

“Oxoco berries were once grown on the planet Noxxal, they are now only grown on dedicated agriculture planets.” you shared, not quite letting your facade drop.

“Noxxal…” Shiro remembered that name being mentioned before, he remembered it from your fight with that other Galra commander.

“It is the planet I am from.” you explained carefully, “It was once very similar to other green planets such as your Earth, but after the Empire took over, all the natural resources were harvested and the planet became a toxic wasteland,”

Perhaps this Earthling was like you. Your tactics of nicety and caring were seen as deception and a threat. Letting one’s guard down was something so rare on this ship, and if this Earthling was like you in any sense, he would only give his trust to someone who equally trusted him. Perhaps that is why you were drawn to him.

“I am Noxxian and Galran, though that is not public knowledge,” you shared, momentarily being entirely transparent, “you are not to speak of my impure heritage to anyone else, understood?”

You were ashamed, deep down. And that truth was not one told lightly. His attitude seemed to shift a little as he nodded, he relaxed slightly.

“What is your name, Earthling?” you asked, wanting to refer to this man by his name than his species.

“...Shiro,” he said slowly, “-And we call ourselves ‘human’, not Earthling.”

Though you kept it well hidden, you were happy. He spoke a little more this time.

“Thank you, Shiro,” you said, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips, “I am Commander (y/n) (l/n), but when we’re alone you may call me (y/n).”

The human - Shiro - nodded again, taking another berry from the bowl. His eye contect still remained fierce, but it was no longer malicious.

“I’m sure you have questions?” you asked with a sigh, relaxing into your chair, fully prepared for anything he had to ask.

“Where’s Matt? The other human I was with?” he asked instantly.

“After you injured him, he was deemed unfit to fight and sent off to one of the labour colonies,” you explained, “very smart of you to do that,”

He paused at your compliment, processing the information.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Why does anyone do anything?” you asked. It wasn’t a simple question to answer.

“I may be a commander of this empire, but that does not mean I agree with what it is or what it does,” you began slowly. Shiro looked as though he was about to talk, but you stopped him.

“You’ll ask ‘Why are you here then if you don’t agree with it?’ but it really isn’t that simple,” you explained, “on your Earth you know very little outside of your own solar system, but out here, the Galra Empire has taken over a third of known space and is constantly expanding,”

“Your Earth is just beyond the edge of the empire in its current state, but that won’t last forever,” Shiro looked to you, concerned, but you continued, “it has taken my ancestors generations to get to this respectable of a position in the empire, but from within I see all of its flaws. When a ruler is so incredibly ruthless and a society from inception has been built on war and ego, normal good people become warped and support the wrongdoings of the powerful because they have never known any other life.”

“And I need you,” you confessed.

“There is a weapon - Voltron - it is the only thing powerful enough to even threaten Zarcon’s position on the throne and, by extension, the empire as a whole,” you made sure the human was keeping up with you as you spoke, “to stop Zarkon from ever getting his hands on it, it was split up and hidden. One of its pieces is hidden on your planet.” His brows furrowed. 

“When the time is right, we will send you back to Earth. I don’t know when and I don’t know how. All I need, is your trust.”

“Why me?” Shiro asked, not yet grasping his position in all of this.

“You’re strong, you can fight, but you’re kind,” you said softly, “this ship will wear you down, and you’ll still have to fight in the arena, but I believe that if you escape, you could save the universe.”

You felt deeply sorry for the man, to be pulled out of a human life and dragged into intergalactic warfare, to have no choice but to fight endlessly for cheap entertainment or to fight for the freedom of his home planet. 

You sighed and reached for an oxoco berry just as Shiro did, causing you to draw your hand back at the physical contact. He looked confused for a moment, before taking two berries from the bowl and holding one out towards you. You unfurled your fingers and he pressed the berry into your palm.

His skin was… warm and squishy, it felt so fragile. How did this man kill a Galra with nothing but a blade? With your cold, hard skin, tough and smooth, yet this odd fleshy creature had the strength to kill, but a warm and gentle touch.

You shook yourself from that headspace. You took the berry and bit into it, savouring the tart flavour before standing up frm your seat.

“When we are alone, you will be free to roam my room, you may speak to me however you wish, and I will do my best to make you comfortable. But you must stay here.” you instructed Shiro, “If other Galra find out that I am treating you well and that you are not just my ‘pet’ the consequences would be dire for the both of us.”

You garnered no verbal response, but a curt nod was all you needed.

“As I’m sure you realise, none of this is to be spoken of outside of this room,”

“I understand,” he said, eyes never leaving you. He was trying to figure you out, the weird purple alien man who was kind in comparison to his warmongering species.

“I will do my best to keep you safe… though I fear my best may not be good enough.” you spoke quietly, half hoping the Earthling couldn’t hear you.

[confusedblakex]

'Aliferous' Series Masterlist

Tadashi Hamada X (GN) Reader

Synopsis: Six months left. In desperation for just a little more time, you modified yourself, successfully extending your life, but breaking every rule you were held to. Perhaps you shouldn't have meddled with fate, because the price of living was far greater than you could have imagined. You lost your education, you lost your friends, and - worst of all - you lost Tadashi.

Notes: Enemies to friends, Unrequited, Angst, Bittersweet, Slow burn, Plot fix

Will also be available on Quotev

BEING REWRITTEN

┄

Prologue

Part 1: Gone

Part 2: No time

Part 3: ??

Part 4: ??

┄

Taglist: @newttheglue250

[confusedblakex]

Aliferous: Gone (Pt1)

BEING REWRITTEN

Pairing: Tadashi Hamada X Reader (GN)

Summary: There was so much that had gone undone, so much left unsaid

Wordcount: 551

Warnings: Grief, Death, Fire

Series taglist: - if you wish to be added to or removed from the taglist please just ask

Notes: Shorter than intended, but I need to ensure the story flows smoothly

Last edited: 20th November 2024

Series Masterlist - Prologue - Part 1 - Part 2

--- 2nd POV ---

You picked up your phone from your desk, the ringtone starting to annoy you even from a different room. You opened the touchscreen flip phone and put it to your ear, an old habit you couldn’t be bothered to unlearn.

“Hello?” it was a woman’s voice on the other end of the line, and you pulled the phone away from your ear to look at the screen. You didn’t recognise the number.

“Who’s this and what do you want?” you asked, sounding a little more annoyed than you anticipated.

“This is SFIT, we-”

“Ohhh I see, called to beg for me to come back or something?” you jumped to the assumption, “Well that’s not gonna happen.” You threw the phone back down on the desk with the call still going, and it automatically transferred to your earpiece. That place pissed you off.

“No, of course not, I-” the woman sounded a little rattled at your outburst and it was clear as day. She sighed before she started talking again, with a professional tone back in her voice.

“Despite no longer attending SFIT, you are still Tadashi Hamada’s student emergency contact,”

You felt a pang of guilt in your chest, but you forced irritation into your voice.

“What’s he done now?”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, and you caught a slight crack in her voice, “there was a fire in the Exhibition Hall, and Tadashi didn’t make it out…”

She kept talking after that but you heard nothing. Regrets and guilt and pain all filled your head.

Tadashi…

You ended the call without saying anything and threw a jacket on. You raced out the door, not bothering to put a helmet on before starting your motorcycle and racing to SFIT as fast as you could.

---

You quite literally jumped off the moving vehicle before it had fully slowed to a stop, letting it slide across the ground with a harsh scraping of metal. You strode towards a crowd of people all standing outside the SFIT main building and didn’t slow as you pushed through the people around you.

And then you saw it.

Tadashi. His picture. Candles.

He really was gone, and there was so much you hadn’t done, so much you hadn’t said.

“Hey!” A voice behind you yelled - a child’s voice.

You turned and looked the boy dead in the eye. The first thing you saw was Tadashi, you almost thought you were hallucinating. But he was young, his eyes red from crying and his cheeks flushed. You knew him somewhere in the back of your mind.

You looked at him through synthetic eyes and scanned his face, searching through all your recorded memories. You found a match. This was Hiro Hamada, Tadashi’s brother. They were so similar… you almost felt dumb for not remembering him.

You turned after that and left, the still atmosphere was starting to close in on you and you didn’t want to stay near Tadashi. You didn’t want to have to admit to yourself everything that had happened. What had happened while you weren’t there.

Your uncrying eyes stung and a headache began to burn in your head. You didn’t look back. You didn’t want to. Your motorcycle had scratches across its side, but you ignored it.

You just needed to get away.

[confusedblakex]

Aliferous (Prologue)

Pairing: Tadashi Hamada X Reader (GN)

Summary: Tadashi... his brother. Dead. Those red eyes... who were they?

Wordcount: 463

Warnings: Grief, Death, Fire

Series taglist: - if you wish to be added to or removed from the taglist please just ask

Notes: Playing around with writing from different characters' perspectives

Last edited: 17th November 2024

Series Masterlist - Prologue - Part 1

--- Hiro's POV ---

“Tadashi!”

Everything after the explosion all felt like a blur to Hero. Only the ringing in his ears and Tadashi’s voice in his head remained constant throughout the chaos. 

The fire was put out and he was put through medical checks but none of it mattered. Tadashi’s friends stood with him through it all and yet he paid no attention to any of it, instead keeping silent. People asked if he was okay but he refused to remove his eyes from where he saw his brother run to, as though he might run back out from the building again. But that never happened.

Tadashi was gone.

The framed picture of him surrounded by candles on the stairs to the now burnt SFIT building only confirmed it.

He wasn’t coming back.

Hero knelt in front of Tadashi’s picture. He didn’t even blink as the tears fell down his face. Only shallow breaths and uncontrollable shivering.

Time became merely a concept as he zoned out, separate from the world. Alone. All of his senses switched off, he couldn’t feel the tears on his cheeks, he couldn’t hear the sobbing of other people, he couldn’t smell the burning of the candles.

Though he was staring at his brother’s picture, he couldn’t see through the blurriness of the tears in his eyes. Not even the light raindrops that started to fall from the sky caught his attention. 

He didn’t register that the sobbing around him stopped nor did he register that the air had somehow become even heavier.

He couldn’t feel the person walking up behind him.

Not until that person pushed him to the side to stand directly in front of Tadadhi’s picture.

“Hey!”

Anger was not a great first emotion to feel after being numb for so long. But it was a powerful one at least, as though a thousand tiny fireworks were being set off in his mind.

How dare they push him out of the way of his own brother’s picture! He went to grab the arm of the person but before he could even touch the material of their jacket, they turned around and looked him in the eye with a deadly stare.

They were wearing all black. Black jeans, black shirt, black jacket - even black gloves. They had (h/c) hair, cut in a way that it was slightly longer on one side than the other. But the most startling thing was their eyes. 

The skin around both their eyes looked heavily scarred, burn scars Hiro guessed. The eyes themselves were pure black with deep red pupils, not like human eyes; these were prosthetics. They stood staring at Hiro for about a minute before turning around and leaving the same way they came, not even glancing back behind them as they walked.

[confusedblakex]

A burning hatred (Pt1)

Pairing: Takashi 'Shiro' Shirogane X (Male) Reader

Summary: Where most Galra find entertainment, you find nothing but disgust. Shiro arrived at Zarkon's arena one fateful day, perhaps he was just what you were looking for.

Wordcount: 1722

Warnings: TW - Very descriptive violence, Imprisonment, Death, Blood, Asphyxiation, Sacrifice

Requested by: I refuse to let this fandom die

Notes: Star Trek and Voltron feel quite similar now that I think about it; No romance yet; Galra commander reader

Last edited: 16th November 2024

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

There had been a new intake of prisoners.

As was expected of you, you took your seat with the rest of the Galra commanders. The sea of cheering people was overwhelming. Myzax was in the ring again.

The arena was not entertaining to you. There was no fight here, this was a public execution. The gladiators were Salixan wolves playing with their prey before going in for the kill. Disgusting.

Prisoners deemed fit enough to fight were bought here. Luckily, most of the new intake had arrived injured and were declared unfit to fight. You thanked the universe for even the smallest of mercies.

Behind the gates, there were a dozen different creatures of varying species. An Earthling stood at the front of the line, quivering and dressed in an oversized prisoner’s tunic. He was short, scrawny and - by the fear in his eyes - didn’t have the strength to fight.

Perhaps, you thought, by some miracle, this boy would somehow manage to scrape by with only a severe injury. Perhaps you could leave, tell your fellow commanders that the prisoners are too weak for a proper fight and it bores you. That way, you might not have to watch.

A sentry walked down to the gate, rifle pointed squarely at the Earthling boy. In a flash, another Earthling appeared, pulling the rifle from the sentry’s grip and pushing the droid into the wall. It sparked and slumped over, showing the Earthling’s strength.

You watched intently as the audience roared.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered and muscular enough to put up a fight. His back was turned to you, but his body language showed no hint of fear. With the bayonet he held, the man turned to his fellow prisoners and took a slash at the weak one.

Over the cheering and yelling of the area’s audience, you couldn’t hear a word of what he yelled, but another sentry arrived and forcefully took the Earthling by his arm. You averted your eyes momentarily as the gates opened.

There was clearly some relation between the Earthlings, and in a bid to save the boy who couldn’t fight, this man had put himself first in line to face Myzax. It was smart, you had to admit, but watching someone sacrifice themself somehow made it worse than just watching them die.

Myzax roared and the spectators cheered as the Earthling was handed a Galran sword. And the fight began at once.

The large gladiator let the energy orb on the end of his bat charge for a moment before hurling the orb at the Earthling. Barely dodging, the man tripped himself over to get away. Unrelenting, Myzax threw the orb again. In a desperate attempt to dodge, the man rolled over and jumped at the Galra, landing a shallow cut on his arm before retreating from the orb once more.

And the game of Salixan wolf and rodent began.

For a while, the Earthling only dodged, ducking behind the pillars of the arena, seemingly formulating something. The energy orb was thrown again, this time the man used his sword's flat edge as a shield. He was knocked back significantly, but didn’t fall. Once again, Myzax threw the orb. The man knelt down, raising his sword to cover himself as the impact pushed him into the dusty floor.

Myzax raised his bat, the orb flying back to recharge. As the mechanical wiring hummed deep under the loud yelling of the Galran audience, the Earthling lunged to take a swing at the gladiator. A large gash cut across the gladiator’s shoulder, slicing through his neck.

The Galra wobbled on his feet, purple-red blood spilling down his chest. Weakly, Myzax lifted the orb on its plinth and hurled it at where the Earthling had drawn back to.

Panicked upon seeing the energy orb once more, the man rolled away from the incoming projectile. One hit on the ground. The gladiator swung his arm around as much as his injury would allow, the orb flying back over to the Earthling. Narrowly dodged again, he was taking advantage of Myzax’s weakened state. Twice now, and the orb drew back for the final attack. The man raised his sword again.

A third hit. The metal sword shattered, and the orb flew back to Myzax. Before the hum of the recharge could even start, the Earthling jumped and plunged the blunted half of the snapped sword through the gladiator’s chest. With a loud roar, Myzax fell to his knees. The undefeated, killed by an Earthling - of all species.

The spectators cheered more, louder still, and the man standing in the centre of the arena let out a scream of victory. He played to the crowd well.

Without thinking for a moment more, you slammed your fist into the arm of your chair and rose.

“Who’s is he?” your voice sounded over everyone, quiet falling throughout the room.

You stood in silence for a moment, looking across the Galra commanders.

“The Earthling would be mine,” a commander a few rows down announced as he stood.

“I want him. Name your price,” you stated, voice loud and confident. If you could get a hold of this Earthling, you might just be able to do a little good in this universe.

“4000 GAC,” the commander you didn’t know requested.

“Done.” you said, definitively.

“I offer 5000!” A voice called a few chairs to your right. Commander Sendak.

“This is no auction,” you chastised.

“I will not stand down!” he called, turning towards to owner of the Earthling.

“Sendak! You and I both know that I can outbid you.” you reminded him, keeping yout voice level and confident. As a decorated warrior from a long line of commanders, you had the power of currency on your side.

Sandak huffed and stopped for a moment before turning to look up at the Emperor.

“Permission to exercise my Galra rights, my Emperor?” he asked, bowing slightly.

You lowered your head in respect and looked back up to see Zarkon nod.

“I challenge you to a Sar duel for ownership of the Earthling fighter!” Sendak called, as soon as he received Zarkon’s permission.

“Come now, we are in an arena, and the people want a fight,” he taunted as he saw the torn expression on your face.

“I accept.” you said, determined. You may not want to fight, but you couldn’t risk leaving the Earthling with anyone else.

“What are your terms?” the unknown commander asked.

“If I win, I get the Earthling and Commander Sendak shall be sent off to the Javeeno Star System with no crew, for reconnaissance and surveillance.” you called, the crowd surrounding you applauded your decision, “And you?”

“If I win, I take the prisoner. And you, Commander (l/n), will be stripped of rank and sent to Noxxal to die a dishonourable death!” Sendak shouted.

The room went quiet with murmurs. Noxxal… you would die from starvation, if the cold didn’t get to you first. A dishonourable death, to not be killed in battle.

“And the loser pays 5000 GAC for the victor?” you clarified, looking to the Earthling’s finder.

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.”

“The terms are set. Let us begin,” you announced. Both Sendak and you descended to the arena floor.

“Hold the Earthling!” Sendak commanded, and two sentries stood at either side of the man, leading him back out through the arena gate.

Sendak took gauntlets, his weapon of choice. They were great meatal things that pulsed with Galran energy. This was the only advantage he had over you.

You chose to take a battleaxe. Versatile and deadly, you knew them well.

“Vrepit sa.”

“Vrepit sa…”

You immediately took first swing at Sendak, purposefully overshooting and missing him. The swing went past his ear, and took him off guard, leading him to turn in an attempt to throw a punch at your gut. In his moment of pivot, you took the haft of your axe directly to his face.

He stumbled backwards, nose dripping with blood. You swung again, leaving him no time for recovery, a jab at his chest that he narrowly avoided. And again, quickly, but he had recovered in time and grabbed your axe’s blade with his gauntlets.

He threw your axe to his side, and you barely kept your grip. This was how the fight continued. You would hit a blow, he would recover, and Sendak would send you backwards.

A slash to his knee, a hit to your stomach, a jab that very nearly took his ear off, a punch square to your nose - revenge for that first hit you got on him. Finally, after 10 minutes of equally balanced fighting, you decided to play dirty. This Earthling was worth the life of the idiot known as Sendak.

You backed up slowly, reaching a pillar, then swung and lodged your axe at an angle in the stone. You threw yourself at Sendak, going for the gauntlets. You sent a jab at his neck, causing him to lose his breath enough for you to kick with all your might at his left gauntlet. With a crackle of power, the purple glow dissipated and the glove stopped responding.

Sendak growled at you and shook the gauntlet off his hand, immediately lunging at you. You dodged, but not enough, as he grabbed you by the arm, spun you, and hooked his arm around your neck. Gauntlet to your throat, he held you there, spluttering for a breath that wouldn’t come. Your body burned with adrenaline and you stomped at his feet under you, kicking back at his shins.

Sendak walked backwards slowly to avoid your kicks until his back was pressed up against a pillar. Perfect.

With the last of your oxygenated strength, you reached out for the axe that was lodged in the stone. In one quick pull, the axe swung at Sendak’s arm and your face. At the last moment, you shifted your head to the side, lodging the axe entirely through Sendak’s arm.

His grip fell limp, and you took a great inhale of air.

The crowd roared in cheer, and Sendak made a barely audible noise - like a whimper - that only you could hear.

“Consider that payment for challenging me.” You spoke lowly in his ear, before turning to leave.

Where was that Earthling?

[confusedblakex]

‘Bakugo’s Match’ Quick Story and Headcannons

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo X (Male) Reader

Summary: Transferring to UA a little late into the year, you find that you are an exact mirror reflection of Katsuki Bakugo - a boy in class 1A who won’t shut up about it

Warnings: Cursing, sexual themes...? (Not really, but by my standards it counts)

Requested by: @iamthebest1100 (Back in 2023)

Notes: Hello again

Last edited: 14th February 2024

Class 1B was bad enough with just Monoma…

— “We have a new transfer student who will be joining this class,” Vlad King announced as a tall boy trudged into the room, “I expect you give him a warm welcome,”

“I’m (y/n),” the boy announced at the front of the room, “but don’t think that just because I got here late I’m weak, I’ll beat all your asses,”

The entirety of 1B deadpanned. You were just like Bakugo but with less yelling- —

The tension between you and Bakugo was intense

Like, you could ignore Monoma

But from the moment you two met it was instant

Bakugo thought of himself as better because he was in Class 1A

You thought of yourself as better because you were only in 1B due to transferring late

Fights between the two of you were matches of outlasting, you were both powerful and your quirks were similar

His was Explosions, nitroglycerine in his sweat

Yours was Kinetic Blast, the ability to collect kinetic energy and release it around you in bursts

His explosions would charge your quirk, but your quirk made him sweat more due to the heat it could generate

— “Getting tired yet?” you goaded as he lunged at you with an explosion but missed.

“Ha! As if-” Bakugo yelled back, but you used your quirk to throw him away from you. The force behind this only urged you on more.

He landed a solid hit on your chest in retaliation, but it only made your quirk stronger. You sent that same kinetic energy back at him, the temperature around you both rising.

“Fuck you!” —

The current standing was your 11 wins to Bakugo’s 9

He kept saying that it was because his quirk charges yours more than yours charges his

Really, it was just that you wasted less energy yelling profanities

Maybe he would finally shut up if his lips were on yous-

Wait what?

Even with exams the two of you would compete

But you were too well matched, often having the exact same scores

It didn’t take long of this routine before friendship attempted to weave through you, against both of your wishes

Once per fortnight the two of you would fight on a Friday, an unspoken agreement

When you won a match, you would lose the next

When he lost a match, he would win the next

Your fiery personalities often lead to tension

But you could never truly hate each other

Actually, you both found the other rather attractive…

— The two of you had been put in a team together. Whether this was the teachers’ plan or not, you found yourself glaring at both Eraserhead and Vlad King.

“Bakugo your left!” you yelled as an Ectoplasm clone lunged at him. Without a moments notice, he turned and used his quirk in the clone’s face.

“Fuck that! How many are you on?!” he asked, lunging at another clone. The two of you were competing over who could ‘kill’ the most of Ectoplasm's clones during training. Though it was not what the teachers wanted to instil in the two aggressive students, they couldn’t deny that it was a productive tactic.

“36-” you responded, but Bakugo quickly yelled back.

“Ha! 40! Take that you little shit-”

Right as Bakugo was about to hit one clone, another tripped him up from behind, causing him to stumble into you. You didn’t budge and held the boy’s weight, but he had fallen in a way that his body was partially draped across yours.

“What the fuck? Are you trying to seduce me or something?” You asked, using your quirk behind you to knock back any clones while Bakugo got to his feet.

“No?” Bakugo said, offended as he backed away from you quickly. Then he turned back and smirked, “Why, do you think I’m attractive-?”

“Shut the fuck up!” You cut him off, turning away to fight more, “Looking at your face for too long would make anyone lose brain cells,” —

The two of you were actually highly productive together and worked surprisingly well as a team

The flirting however? That came from nowhere

It started as a way to get a rise out of Bakugo, but he was better than you thought

He would twist your words with that sexy ass grin and flirt back

But there was something more that neither of you ever spoke about

— “You’re weak.” you said on a whim one night, the two of you alone in a training room.

“The fuck did you just call me?” Bakugo seethed.

“Weak.” you reiterated.

Bakugo tried again, but you cut him off, “I will kill you-!”

“You can have as strong of a quirk as you like, but you’re weak,”

The two of you stood in silence, rage in Bakugo’s eyes but he felt like he needed to listen to what you had to say. Your eyes held something he couldn’t quite place, but rage he could find was only directed at yourself.

“You ever wondered why you’re trying to prove yourself?” you asked, “Expectations, inferiority…”

Bakugo ran it all through his mind. He was always told he would be a great hero. He was always trying to earn respect that he felt he was owed. He was always competing with someone when he felt like he wasn’t good enough.

But then something clicked. You were also like him. You were so much like him that his classmates often joked that you were his clone.

“By that logic so are you!” he found himself yelling defensively. He saw that same defensiveness flash in you.

“Yes, I fucking am!” you yelled, “Why do you think we fight each other?”

Silence settled between the two of you again. You turned and massaged your temples in frustration, but turned back when you heard Bakugo say your name.

“(y/n),”

You came face to face with him, his breath on your lips and your noses practically touching. Before you could protest, his lips were on yours.

It was an angry kiss. Passionate and annoyed, but far more gentle than you expected. Despite your urge to pull back, you only pressed the kiss further. Backing down would be admitting defeat.

His tongue slid across your lip and in retaliation you softly bit at his. Neither of you had backed down yet, and in your muffled thoughts you wondered if the only way to lose would be to run out of breath...

As the kiss deepened further, Bakugo reached to hold you, his hand on your hip and gripping hard. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make you panic. This was actually real. In a split-second reaction, you used your quirk to push him back. He stumbled as he processed what had just happened, now a two-person distance between you.

You had lost. He had taken you off guard and you reacted.

“Fuck you!” you said darkly. 

“You better be fucking good at it then,” he said and walked off as if nothing at all had just happened. He said it like a threat but you froze when you realised what he had meant.

Bakugo smirked on his way out. Not because you of what he had said and not even because you were flustered, but because he had won. No homo. —

You never spoke about that day again, and neither of you were ever going to admit any feelings out loud

Not for a very long while at least

[confusedblakex]

'Two Dense Idiots' Quick Story and Headcannons

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki X (Male) Gepard-inspred Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Endevour

Requested by: @averagetoyakinnie

Notes: It's nice to have free time to write again; Reader has a crystal-type quirk

Last edited: 12th July 2023

Shoto had no idea what he was feeling 

Romance was the last thing on his mind, and yet it seemed to smack him in the face right when he least expected it

As the eldest child in a bloodline of high-ranking heroes, you and he were very similar in social status

Which meant you two knew each other from a young age

You found you cared a lot about him

And quickly took it upon yourself to care for him where his family had failed

You made it your life goal to protect him

You would become a hero for him

--- “Shoto?” You asked, interrupting the silence.

He hummed in response and turned to you.

“When we become pro heroes, I intend on staying by your side,” You said, since it was on your mind.

“Why? Surely that would only limit you?” He asked, his brows furrowing slightly.

“Heros are protectors of the people, and I cannot imagine I would be a good hero without you,” You explained, picking your words carefully but speaking with the same confidence. 

Shoto raised an eyebrow. 

“And I cannot risk losing you…” ---

You secretly get flustered around him

And while you didn’t show it outwardly, Shoto noticed something odd about how you were acting

He was worried he made you uncomfortable

But he too felt… some way about you

He didn’t know what way, but it made him happy

He smiled around you more, and loved being physically close

Even if he just stood slightly closer to you

But to everyone else, the two of you are a very serious duo

You often don’t even need to talk to communicate

And your telepathy confuses all the people around you

Especially in combat training

If you two were on the same team, needless to say it was swift and silent

If you were on opposite teams, keeping your plans from each other was difficult

--- “(y/n),” Iida said through the earpiece, “I’m close to the target but be careful, the villains should be just around the corner-”

You took the turn cautiously but found yourself stopping only centimetres away from Shoto’s face. Neither of you spoke, mostly too surprised to.

You raised an eyebrow at Shoto, and he tilted his head in response. 

“They intended to split us up, I’m with (y/n), but Iida seems close to the weapon,”

“You weren’t supposed to know that…” You said, sighing before taking a battle stance. ---

But Shoto loves those interactions

Even if he despised his fire side, your encouragement is all he needed

He didn’t want to use his fire? That’s okay as long as he doesn’t hurt himself

He wanted to use his fire? Go for it! Just be careful using fire and ice in combination

Though it was something he spoke about rarely

In fact, you were just about the only person he goes to with personal matters

You know far more than anyone else and understand him more than anyone else

-That’s why he loves you-

Wait, no, he’s still in denial about that one

Or maybe he really is just that dense

--- “According to Mina, people who are ‘just friends’ don’t hold hands and hug,” Shoto said one day from the blue.

“So what does that make us?”

You thought about it for a moment. Friends hug, of course they do. And hold hands? Maybe less so, but it’s still a thing friends do.

“Of course friends can do those things,” You said, “I believe they are not limited to a specific type of relationship?”

“She said it was the way we did them” Shoto replied as he sat down next to you.

“Interesting…” You mumbled as you slipped your hand in his, “I’ll ask her about it tomorrow.” ---

-Mina wouldn't sut up about it the next day-

But expect Endeavour to have some plans

You’re strong, and your quirk is versatile

So even if he doesn’t like you, he’ll still support the relationship

Which Shoto doesn’t like at all

Not because he doesn’t want the support, but because of the reasons for doing so

Honestly, as soon as you can, the two of you are cutting that man off

For good

[confusedblakex]

Words

Pairing: Eijiro Kirishima X Deaf Reader (GN)

Summary: Kirishima always wondered why he had no words on his wrist, but when he meets you it all makes sense

AU: Soulmate AU - Soulmates have tattoos of the first words their soulmates say to them

Wordcount: ~1430

Warnings: Self consciousness (inferiority complex)

Requested by: Stressing about finals

Notes: As a hearing person, please let me know if I offend anyone with the way I've written the reader (or if you have any constructive criticism)

Last edited: 24th May 2023

Kirishima was self-conscious about many things. His looks, his personality, his quirk. And the fact that he had no soulmate.

The first words a person’s soulmate said to them would be written as a tattoo-like mark on the inside of their wrist. Everyone found their soulmate at some point in their life, whether intentionally or not, they would end up as friends or lovers or something in between.

Not everyone wanted to find their soulmate, but having no soulmate at all was even rarer than being quirkless. And on Kirishima’s wrist, there was nothing.

His love of sweatbands and nice watches wasn’t because of their usefulness and functionality, but because it meant he never had any questions about his soulmark. Though that didn’t mean he completely avoided the subject, and he always felt a sting in his heart whenever his friends brought it up.

But UA would be different - he told himself - at UA, he wouldn’t fear judgement because of it. And so for his first day of hero school, he didn’t cover his wrist, the empty space looking so abnormal to him.

Yet on the first day, quite a few people found their soulmates. He may have felt his heart ache, but reminded himself of the new person he was. He wouldn’t let this get him down. So when the topic of soulmates was brought up, he didn’t shy away - though he was nervous - and told his class about his lack of soulmark. No one made a fuss, and no one made him feel bad. Bakugo even called him lucky for not having destiny be the one to decide his partner.

So manly.

And though he still wished he had a soulmate, he didn’t let himself feel upset that he didn’t have a soulmark. Well, that was until he met you.

You were a transfer student who joined midyear, and apparently you knew Uraraka since she greeted you with a hug the moment she saw you. And then once Aizawa walked in,  you introduced yourself to the class.

Notebook in hand, you took a deep breath and stood in front of the class. Kirishima watched as you flipped open the first page of the notebook and gasps and whispers filled the room.

“Hello, my name is (y/n), and I’m deaf” 

And you flipped the page again.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all”

You were nervous, he could tell you were nervous, but you smiled through it regardless. You were shown to your seat by Aizawa, and the moment he tried to go back to sleep the class erupted into chatter. Uraraka ran over to you and started making quick hand movements to you, which Kirishima realised was sign language.

The rest of the class followed suit, all rushing over trying to talk to you and asking Uraraka to translate. You took out your notebook with some pre-written answers for common questions. Things like:

“I do have hearing aids, but that doesn’t mean I can hear fully”

“If you want to talk to me, please make sure I’m able to see your face so I can better understand what you’re saying”

Once the fuss all died down, Uraraka ended up convincing you and a bunch of others to start a club to teach people sign language so you could communicate with them more easily. Which was then followed by Bakugo, of all people, going up to you and challenging you (and probably also insulting your quirk) in fluent sign language.

But Kirishima never took his eyes off you. You were gorgeous. The way you interacted with the class as they asked you questions, and how cute you were when you were focusing on listening to someone. Your smile and the positive aura you had.

He had fallen hard.

---

He walked up to you one day with the intention of asking about joining the sign language club, but he couldn’t seem to think clearly. He had never spoken to you before, so once he had your attention his mind blanked.

Instead he said the first thing that popped into his brain.

“Hey, I uh… just wanted to say I think you’re really pretty…”

Your eyes went wide as your wrist started to tingle and then gently burn. It only lasted a moment, but you knew exactly what it meant. You pulled your sleeve down just enough to see the words glowing, and then turned to furiously sign to Uraraka, who was already understanding what was going on.

“Oh my gosh, (y/n)’s your soulmate!” She exclaimed, probably a little louder than she intended as you winced at the noise.

“What?” Kiri asked, not because he didn’t figure it out, but because it simply wasn’t possible. And yet it made so much sense.

The silence that followed rang loud, and yet your bright smile made everything alright. Kiri couldn’t help but pull you into a gentle hug, one that you quickly reciprocated.

From that moment on, Kirishima felt complete, felt as though his heart was whole. As though all those years spent feeling insecure about his lack of soulmark, and all those nights he spent wishing he’d have a soulmate were nothing.

And your friendship quickly became something more. Kiri didn’t want to feel like he was pushing you into a relationship, but it just felt so natural. His love for you was unlike anything he had ever felt, and it only grew greater each day.

Kirishima wanted to confess his feelings for you, but he wasn’t sure how. Not once had to two of you spoken about your feelings regarding the realtionship, and he wanted it to be special. 

He finally convinced Bakugo to teach him sign language - even though Bkakugo wouldn’t tell Kiri why he knew it - and planned the perfect way to tell you. On his birthday.

Unbeknownst to him, you wanted to do something special too. With the help of Uraraka, Momo and Jiro, you all came up with a plan. The three of them were the best friends you could ask for and were so supportive of your feelings for Kirishima. Together, they helped you learn over the months, and for Kiri’s birthday you were going to tell him you loved him. With words.

It wasn’t as though you couldn’t speak, you could, you were just so self-conscious about how you sounded - and of course it wasn’t easy. But it was something you were willing to do for Eijiro. He was so uplifting to be around, and encouraged you endlessly. For years you were worried that your soulmate wouldn’t be interested in you romantically because of your disability, but Kiri didn’t care. He loved you regardless, and you couldn’t be happier.

But when the day finally rolled around, you suddenly didn’t trust yourself. What if you sounded weird? What if he didn’t like your voice? You knew it was just your thoughts bringing you down, but they were so difficult to ignore.

A tap on your shoulder brought you back from your thoughts, and your turned to face Bakugo and Kirishima. You smiled at Kiri, but Bakugo had something to say.

“Stupid hair had something important to say, so you better pay attention” he signed, “I’ll kill you if you don’t treat him well”

His face softened, and he patted you on the back before leaving, which took you off guard. It leaft you and Kiri alone together, but you were still confused.

He looked nervous, but before you could ask any questions, he bagan signing.

“It’s my birthday today, and I wanted to do something special”

“And I really don’t want to come off as weird, but it’s not manly for me to keep my feelings hidden from you”

He signed to you fluently and confidently, making a few mistakes here and there, but you could tell he was really trying. And it was wonderful.

“I love you (y/n)”

This was not how you expected it to go, but it was perfect nonetheless. He confessed to you! It was practically the perefct setup.

“I love you to-o, Kiri-shima” You said, making sure you carefully sounded out the words so you didn’t say anything wrong.

Kiri didn’t even have time to process that you just spoke. You loved him too!

“Really?! Ow-” He felt his wrist burn, and he hadn’t even noticed until it hurt. He tugged his sleeve down to see what had happened, but paused when he saw there was no wound. Instead, his wrist was glowing with words appearing on his skin.

‘I love you too, Kirishima’