A Human?

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Masterlist

Started on: 21/12/2024

Last updated 21/12/2024

Fandoms:

Avengers:

Loki:

To love like a human masterlist...

To love like a human rewrite masterlist

Bucky:

The Winters Echo masterlist

Valorant:

Harbor:

Caught in the tide one-shot

Protective cookie one-shot

Gekko:

A little secret one-shot

Chamber:

Beyond the screen one-shot

Cypher:

Lens of survival Masterlist

ISO:

Bad timing one-shot

Protect the bows one-shot

Sova:

Echos of home masterlist

Sleeping Hunter one-shot

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Lens of survival part 5 small steps forward

The morning kitchen had become your domain. There was something peaceful about being up before dawn, watching the sun rise through the facility's windows while the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods filled the air. Today's breakfast spread was becoming your signature: fluffy pancakes (Jett's weakness), crispy bacon (Phoenix wouldn't shut up without it), fresh fruit (Sage and Viper's preference), breakfast burritos (Reyna insisted everyone needed proper protein), strong Turkish coffee (Fade wouldn't function without it), and a variety of other dishes that catered to everyone's morning cravings.

"Something smells amazing," Killjoy announced, bouncing into the kitchen first as usual. Her hair was still messy from sleep, robot parts clutched in one hand. "Oh! You made Brötchen!" You smiled, sliding the basket of fresh German rolls toward her. "With extra seeds, just how you like them." The others began filtering in, drawn by the aromas and chatter. Reyna immediately began fussing over portions, insisting everyone take more than they initially served themselves. Harbor praised your masala dosa while Gekko inhaled his breakfast tacos. Even Omen lurked in his corner, occasionally reaching for more food when he thought no one was looking.

"So," Raze said through a mouthful of pancakes, "we're thinking of having a girls' day out this weekend." You froze, spatula hovering over the griddle. "Shopping, lunch, maybe some spa time," Killjoy added excitedly. "You should come!" Your hands started trembling slightly. The outside world. Public spaces. Crowds. The last time you'd gone shopping in your world, he'd had cameras following your every move, drones disguised as security bots tracking each step... A gentle hand touched your shoulder. Sage.

"We noticed you haven't left the facility since arriving," she said softly. "I... I can't," you whispered. "He always found me when I went out. Always." "Not here," Reyna said firmly, purple eyes fierce with protection. "No one touches what's ours." "And we'll be with you the whole time," Jett added, zipping over to steal another pancake. "All of us girls together!" "Plus some invisible backup," came Cypher's quiet voice from the doorway. He'd been watching the exchange, reading your fear. "If you wish to go, several of us can maintain a discrete perimeter. Not to control," he added quickly, seeing your expression, "but to support." "Yeah!" Gekko chimed in. "Like your personal security team! Super stealth mode!"

"I believe the term is 'guardian angels,'" Chamber added smoothly, adjusting his collar. "Though perhaps with more firepower." You looked around at their faces - the women's excitement, the men's quiet determination to help you reclaim this piece of normalcy. This wasn't the suffocating protection of your world. This was family looking out for their own. "Okay," you said softly, then stronger: "Okay. Yes. I'd like that." Raze whooped, nearly knocking over her orange juice. "Shopping spree!" "First stop, proper clothes," Killjoy declared, eyeing your facility-issued basics. "You need something that says 'you.'" "Then lunch at this amazing Vietnamese place I know," Jett added. "And perhaps," Fade suggested with a knowing smile, "a stop at that Moroccan spice market downtown? For... culinary purposes, of course."

You caught Cypher shifting slightly at that, and had to hide your own smile. His sweet tooth was becoming an open secret. "We'll set up a rotation," Sova said, already in tactical mode. "Different vantage points, regular check-ins..." "Without being obvious about it," Yoru cut in gruffly. "We're not trying to scare her more." The planning continued over breakfast, agents talking over each other with suggestions and ideas. You moved around the kitchen, refilling plates and coffee cups, letting their voices wash over you. The fear was still there, but it was different now - manageable, shared.

"Hey," Brimstone called out as the meal wound down. "Whatever happens Saturday, just remember - you've got an army behind you now. Literally." "And in front of you, and beside you," Astra added with a wink. "The stars align in your favor, little light." You looked at the chaos of breakfast dishes, the mix of languages and laughter filling the room, the way even the most hardened agents had softened around the edges over shared meals. "Thank you," you said, not just for the upcoming trip, but for everything. For giving you space to heal. For letting you feed them. For showing you what safety really meant. Cypher caught your eye from across the room and gave a slight nod. You knew he'd be watching Saturday, not through cameras and drones, but in person, ready to step in if needed. Not because he owned you, but because he - all of them - cared.

"Now," Reyna declared, breaking the moment, "who wants seconds? You're all too skinny!" And just like that, the normal breakfast chaos resumed. But something had shifted. A door had opened - not just to the outside world, but to healing. To trust. To freedom. You started gathering ingredients for tomorrow's breakfast, already planning something special. One meal at a time, one step at a time, you were finding your way home.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Lens of survival part 4 Trust in small steps

"This is our primary monitoring hub," Cypher explained, gesturing to a wall of screens that made your stomach clench. He must have noticed your reaction because he quickly added, "These only show the facility's entry points and perimeter. No personal quarters, no private spaces."

You forced yourself to step closer, studying the setup. It was sophisticated but transparent - each camera's location clearly marked, its purpose obvious. Nothing hidden, nothing secret.

"The feeds are accessible to all agents," he continued, pulling up a simple interface. "Even you, once you learn the system. No single person controls the information here."

That was different. Your Cypher had kept his surveillance network close, using it like a web with him as the spider at its center. This was more like... a shared shield.

"Show me," you said softly, and his head turned sharply toward you, surprised by your willingness.

For the next few hours, he walked you through everything - the motion sensors, the perimeter alerts, even the simple AI that helped monitor patterns. His teaching style was patient, methodical, so unlike the manipulative half-truths you were used to.

"And this," he said, pulling up a final screen, "is the panic button system. Every room has one, including yours. One press, and help comes running."

You touched the small interface. "Even if... even if it's a false alarm?"

"Especially then," he said firmly. "Better a hundred false alarms than one missed call for help."

A comfortable silence fell between you, broken only by the soft hum of equipment. It felt... safe. Not the suffocating safety of constant surveillance, but the security of understanding and control.

"Thank you," you said finally. "For showing me all this. For making it... different."

He nodded, and you caught a glimpse of his eyes through his mask - warm and concerned, not calculating.

After Cypher finished showing you the security systems, you spent days planning in secret. The facility's kitchen became your sanctuary during off-hours, a place where memories of control couldn't reach you. With Killjoy's help to access supplies, you prepared a feast that would bring everyone together.

You spent hours cooking dishes from around the world:

For Raze: Spicy Brazilian feijoada with extra malagueta peppers and warm pão de queijo

For Sova: Hearty pelmeni in dill-heavy sour cream sauce

For Sage: Delicate dim sum - har gow, siu mai, and lotus leaf sticky rice

For Killjoy: Traditional German rouladen with spätzle

For Phoenix: Jerk chicken with rice and peas, spiced like his mum's

For Viper: A precisely composed salad with grilled chicken and complex vinaigrette

For Brimstone: Classic meatloaf with bourbon glaze

For Omen: Dark chocolate tart with espresso cream

For Jett: Steaming kimchi jjigae with extra tofu

For Breach: Swedish meatballs with lingonberry sauce

For Chamber: Coq au vin with perfectly roasted potatoes

For Astra: Jollof rice with spiced chicken

For Skye: Vegetable pie with herbs from her garden

For KAY/O: A note expressing appreciation

For Yoru: Japanese curry with tonkatsu and umeboshi onigiri

For Cypher: Moroccan pastries and lamb tagine

For Reyna: Authentic Mexican mole poblano with fresh tortillas and Mexican rice (your world's Reyna had once told you it reminded her of family dinners in Mexico, before she lost everything)

For Gekko: Spicy Mexican street tacos with all the fixings (your world's Gekko had sworn by street food)

For Harbor: Butter chicken and fresh naan (his favorite comfort food)

For Iso: Chinese army stew with extra spam (a guilty pleasure he'd admitted to once)

For Fade: Traditional Turkish menemen and börek (foods that reminded her of Istanbul)

You asked Killjoy to help send a facility-wide message: "Dinner in the main hall at 7. Everyone. Please."

Your hands trembled slightly as you arranged everything on the long table. Each dish was labeled, steam rising from the hot foods, everything perfectly timed. You'd even set up different beverage stations - Turkish coffee, Japanese tea, fresh lemonade.

At 7 sharp, they started arriving. You stood nervously by the entrance, watching their faces.

"Holy shit," Gekko breathed, Wingman bobbing excitedly beside him. "Are those real street tacos?"

"Damn," Harbor's eyes widened at the spread. "This is... this is incredible."

Fade approached the Turkish dishes, her expression softening. "This smells like home."

"Everyone," you called out softly, and the room quieted. "I... I wanted to thank you all. For giving me a chance. For showing me what a real family could be." You gestured to the table. "In my world, I knew all of your counterparts. Some better than others. They taught me these recipes, shared their favorites... before everything changed. I hope... I hope you'll share this meal with me."

The reactions came in waves:

Raze whooped at the sight of the feijoada: "THIS SMELLS LIKE MY GRANDMOTHER'S KITCHEN!"

Iso picked up his army stew, eyebrows raised. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," you smiled, remembering how your world's Iso would sneak extra portions during late nights.

Gekko was already stuffing his face with tacos: "These are better than the ones in Mexico City!"

The room filled with chatter and movement as everyone found their dishes. Chamber appreciated the wine pairing you'd selected. Fade closed her eyes at the first bite of börek. Harbor couldn't stop praising the butter chicken's authenticity.

Even the more reserved agents showed their appreciation. Viper nodded approvingly at her salad's composition. Omen found a quiet corner but cleaned his plate completely.

Reyna's reaction was particularly striking. She stood over her plate, purple eyes gleaming with an unusual softness. "Mole poblano... mi madre's recipe?" she asked, her usually fierce demeanor gentling as she took in the complex aroma.

"As close as I could get it," you admitted. "The other you... she spent an entire night teaching me how to make it right. Said some recipes carry the souls of those we've lost."

Reyna's hand briefly touched the heart locket she always wore. "Hermana would have loved this," she whispered, so quietly you almost missed it. Then, louder, with her usual confident smile: "Your soul is strong, pequeña. You honor our traditions well."

Yoru tried to maintain his gruff exterior, but you caught him getting seconds of the curry. And thirds of the onigiri.

Cypher... Cypher sat nearby, occasionally glancing your way as he savored each pastry. You pretended not to notice how he'd specifically chosen a seat that let him watch over both you and the room.

You watched as Reyna and Gekko good-naturedly argued over whose Mexican dish was more authentic, while she simultaneously kept refilling everyone's plates with mole, insisting they needed to "put meat on their bones." It was a side of her you'd rarely seen in your world - nurturing, almost maternal.

The evening evolved into something magical. Barriers broke down as agents shared bites of their dishes with others. Stories flowed as freely as the drinks. Even KAY/O joined in, sharing his observations about human bonding rituals over food.

"In my world," you found yourself saying during a lull, "we lost moments like this. The war took away our ability to just... be together. To share meals and stories."

"Well," Skye said firmly, squeezing your shoulder, "you're not losing these moments here."

"Never," agreed Harbor, raising his glass. "To family - across all dimensions."

"To family," they echoed, and you felt tears prick your eyes as every agent - even the most stoic ones - joined the toast.

Later, as people were helping clean up (despite your protests), Cypher approached with an empty pastry plate.

"You made them with pistachios," he noted quietly.

"Your favorite," you replied, then caught yourself. "I mean, his favorite. Sorry, I shouldn't assume-"

"No," he interrupted gently. "They're my favorite too. Some things, it seems, are constant across dimensions."

You looked around at the warm scene - Raze and Gekko arguing playfully over the last taco, Harbor teaching Phoenix the proper way to eat naan, Fade and Omen sharing the last of the Turkish coffee, Yoru pretending he wasn't wrapping up extra onigiri for later.

"Maybe the best things are," you whispered.

For the first time since arriving in this world, you felt truly at home.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Protect the bows

(I’m trying out a from you point of view tell me if you like this or prefer the third person point of view) 

ISO x kawaii style female reader 

Trigger warning slight sa

Li Zhao was in the middle of reviewing mission protocols when his phone lit up with your number. His face softened – you usually texted rather than called, so this was a surprise. "Hello?" "Li..." Your voice was shaky. "I... I need your help. I'm at the downtown police station. They have me in handcuffs." The last part came out as a whisper. His blood ran cold. "Don't say anything else. I'm coming right now." 

Twenty minutes later, Li burst through the station doors, his usual composed demeanor cracking at what he saw. You were sitting on a hard plastic chair, hands cuffed behind your back, your pastel pink and white dress rumpled and your eyes red from crying. Your cute bear backpack sat confiscated on a desk nearby, and your platform shoes were scuffed from being roughly handled. But what made his jaw clench was the man sitting comfortably across the room, casually sipping coffee and smirking. A red handprint marked his face, but he was completely unrestrained, chatting with an officer like they were old friends.

"Y/N!" Li rushed to your side, immediately noticing the red mark on your cheek. His expression darkened. "Why is she in handcuffs?" An officer approached, looking between his notepad and you with obvious judgment. "Sir, are you here for Ms. L/N? She's been charged with assault." "After she attacked me unprovoked!" the man called out from his comfortable perch, taking another sip of his coffee. "Look at my face!" 

"That's not true!" you cried, trying to stand but struggling with the handcuffs. Your platform shoes and frilly dress might have made you look like a living doll, but your voice was steel. "He followed me down Third Street, making disgusting comments. When I ignored him, he—" your voice cracked, "he slapped my bottom and said with an outfit like this, I was 'asking for attention.'"

The man had the audacity to laugh. "Come on, dressed like that? She's practically advertising." The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Li stepped forward, his presence suddenly filling the space. "Remove her handcuffs. Now." His voice was deadly quiet. The first officer sighed, glancing at your outfit – the sweet Lolita dress with its layers of petticoats, the thigh-high socks with tiny bows, the pastel pink hair clips. "Sir, when someone dresses like that—" Li pulled out his Valorant badge, letting it catch the fluorescent light.

"I said, remove her handcuffs. Or shall we discuss why you've restrained an assault victim while letting her attacker enjoy coffee?" The man's coffee cup froze halfway to his mouth. The officer's attitude shifted instantly at the sight of the badge. "Agent Li, we didn't realize—" "Check your security cameras," Li cut him off, his voice arctic. "Third Street has full coverage. I want that footage pulled. Now. And get these handcuffs off her before I call your supervisor." 

The next hour was a blur of activity. The footage clearly showed everything – the man following you, the harassment, the assault, and your justified response. You rubbed your wrists where the handcuffs had been too tight as the man was finally led away in handcuffs himself, his unfinished coffee left to grow cold. "I'm sorry," you whispered, finally able to lean against Li's chest. "I didn't know who else to call. They wouldn't listen to me." "Never apologize for calling me," he said firmly, wrapping his arms around you. "I will always come for you. And I'm filing a formal complaint about how they handled this." 

Later that night, you were curled up in Li's bed, wearing one of his oversized t-shirts. Your bear backpack sat safely on his dresser, next to where he'd carefully hung up your dress. Li had insisted you stay the night, and honestly, you hadn't wanted to be alone anyway. "Your wrists still hurt?" he asked softly, gently running his fingers over the slight marks left by the handcuffs. You shook your head, snuggling closer. "Not really. I just... I love the way I dress. It makes me happy. I shouldn't have to change because some people are terrible. And I shouldn't have been treated like a criminal for defending myself." 

"You're right on both counts," Li said firmly, pulling you closer. "You shouldn't. And you won't. What happened today was wrong on every level." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'm making sure those officers face consequences for how they treated you." You smiled against his chest, feeling safe and protected. "My hero," you murmured sleepily. Li smiled in the darkness, running his fingers through your hair until your breathing evened out. Only then did he allow himself to drift off, keeping you safe in his arms, your kawaii aesthetic clashing wonderfully with his tactical gear hanging in the corner. You were perfect exactly as you were, and he'd make sure no one ever made you feel otherwise again.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Echos of home epilogue full circle

The Valorant compound wasn't built for first birthday parties. It was designed for tactical missions, for protecting the world from threats beyond comprehension. But today, it had been transformed into a celebration of life, of hope, of everything they'd fought to protect.

Aria's party looked more like a military operation than a typical toddler celebration. Killjoy had engineered a play area with soft, strategically placed padding. Chamber had commissioned a cake that was more architectural marvel than dessert. Raze demonstrated party tricks that made Sage roll her eyes, while Wingman, Thrash, Dizzy, and Mosh turned gift-opening into an elaborate performance. Their daughter - their miracle - sat in the center of it all, wearing a tiny dress that Chamber had custom-tailored, complete with a miniature matching suit jacket. "Just in case," he'd winked, "she decides to join the team early." Sova watched his daughter with a smile that spoke of everything they'd survived.

Y/N caught his eye, a silent communication that made Phoenix raise an eyebrow. "Something's different," Jett muttered to Gekko. "They're up to something." Wingman chirped softly, tugging at the reader's sleeve. The little creature seemed more excited than usual, bouncing between them and the other agents. Thrash positioned himself carefully, while Dizzy and Mosh exchanged what could only be described as conspiratorial looks. "Wingman," the y/n said softly, "do you want to tell everyone something?" The creature chirped excitedly, producing a small envelope from seemingly nowhere.

As y/n opened the envelope, a collective intake of breath filled the room. Inside lay two sonogram images - perfectly clear, perfectly beautiful. "Twins," they announced simply. The compound went silent.

Phoenix dropped his slice of cake. Killjoy's tablet clattered to the floor. Jett's wind actually stopped mid-swirl. "TWINS!" Raze screamed, breaking the silence. Chaos erupted. Agents crowded around, agents cried, agents started immediate debates about godparents and training and which of them would be the "cool" aunt or uncle. Aria, oblivious to the excitement, continued playing with her new toys.

Later, after the initial excitement had died down, Sova and y/n pulled Cypher and Sage aside. The medical bay was quiet, a stark contrast to the earlier celebration. "We want you to be godparents," they said simply. Sage's professional composure cracked first. Tears filled her eyes - the woman who had guided their healing, who had seen them at their most broken, now witnessing their most profound moment of hope. Cypher was silent for a long moment. Then, his masked face turned toward Sova. "You know I'll protect them," he said quietly. Not a question. A promise. Sova nodded.

An understanding passed between them - two men who had seen darkness, who knew the cost of protection. "With everything we are," Cypher continued. Y/n’s hand found Sova's. Another circle completed. Another victory. As night fell, with Aria sleeping and the compound quiet, they found a moment of peace. "Celebrate?" The invitation was soft, laden with promise. Their room became a sanctuary. A place of healing. Of love reborn. And in that moment, surrounded by the life they'd built, they were home.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Echos of home part 10 new arrival

It started during a briefing. "Sasha?" Their voice cut through Brimstone's tactical plan. "I think... I think it's time." The chaos that ensued would have been comical if not for the urgency. Phoenix actually tripped over his own feet. Chamber somehow materialized three different emergency bags. Gekko's creatures started running in circles. "Everyone calm down!" Sage commanded, the only one maintaining composure. "Sova, get them to medical. Everyone else-" But the room had already emptied, agents scrambling to follow.

"If you tell me to breathe one more time," they growled through a contraction, gripping Sova's hand, "I will let Raze use your bow for target practice." His face was pale but determined. "Just squeeze my hand, myshka." "I think they're breaking it," Phoenix whispered to Killjoy, both wincing at the sound of crunching bones. Outside the medical bay, the male agents were having... various reactions to the sounds of labor. Gekko had already passed out once at a particularly loud scream. Chamber was stress-organizing medical supplies. Phoenix kept accidentally setting things on fire when the reader cried out. "Is it supposed to take this long?" Harbor asked anxiously. "Babies come in their own time," Sage called from inside, somehow maintaining her serene tone.

Another scream made Brimstone actually flinch. "That's it," they heard the reader sob, "no more babies. Ever. I mean it, Sasha!" "Whatever you want, my love," Sova's accent was thick with emotion and maybe a little fear. "Don't make promises during labor," Cypher advised sagely. "My wife threatened to kill me six different ways, then asked for another baby the moment ours was born." After what felt like eternity, a new cry filled the air. The agents pressed against the door collectively held their breath.

"It's a girl," Sage announced, joy in her voice. The cheer that went up probably scared half the compound. "She's perfect," Sova whispered, cradling their daughter with trembling hands. "Like her mother." The reader, exhausted but radiant, smiled as they watched father and daughter meet. "She has your eyes." "And your nose," he pressed a kiss to their forehead. "Thank you. For everything." "Ready for visitors?" Sage asked softly.

"They're about to break down the door." The great godparent debate was settled the moment little Aria opened her eyes and grabbed Killjoy's finger with surprising strength. "Ha!" The sentinel's triumphant grin was somewhat undermined by her tears of joy. "She clearly has excellent taste," Chamber sniffed, though he was already planning matching outfits.

The first few months were a blur of midnight feedings, lullabies in multiple languages, and agents appearing at all hours just to watch her sleep. Wingman appointed himself official baby monitor, chirping alerts for every cry. Thrash became a living shield, positioning herself wherever Aria was. Dizzy and Mosh performed endless entertainment duty. "She smiled at me first," Phoenix insisted. "That was gas," Cypher corrected. "Her first word will definitely be 'Jett'," the duelist declared confidently. "It's going to be 'boom'," Raze argued.

"I've been practicing with her." "If either of those are her first words, you're both banned from babysitting," the reader warned. Aria's nursery became command central. Elite agents reduced to cooing messes. Hardened warriors singing soft lullabies. They found Fade humming Turkish lullabies during night shifts. Caught Breach designing increasingly elaborate mobiles. Discovered Harbor telling epic bedtime stories. Even Viper was seen baby-talking about chemical compounds. "She's doing it again," Sova chuckled one evening, watching their daughter charm yet another agent into submission.

Currently, she had Brimstone wrapped around her tiny finger, the commander making ridiculous faces just to hear her laugh. "She's going to be the most spoiled baby in existence," the reader smiled, leaning into Sova's embrace. "The most protected," he corrected, pressing a kiss to their temple. The first time she rolled over, you'd think she'd discovered anti-radianite technology. Her first laugh set off a week-long competition to recreate it. The first time she slept through the night, the entire team celebrated like they'd won a major mission.

"Remember when we thought we couldn't handle this?" the reader asked one night, watching Sova dance with their sleeping daughter. "Which part? The pregnancy? The birth? Or having an entire tactical team as extended family?" "All of it," they smiled. "But look at us now." He looked - at their daughter, at their home, at the family they'd built. At how far they'd come from those darkest days. "We were always stronger together," he said softly, laying Aria in her crib. "Now we're just... more." More love. More joy. More family.

More than they'd ever dreamed possible, back when shadows wore familiar faces and trust seemed impossible to rebuild. Now their daughter slept safely, guarded by the world's most elite babysitters. Their home was full of laughter and light. Their love had grown into something bigger than just them. "Think we can handle another one someday?" they teased. Sova's smile was bright enough to light the darkness. "With this family? We can handle anything." In her crib, Aria slept peacefully, surrounded by more love and protection than any child could dream of.

Because that's what they'd built here - not just a recovery, not just a relationship, but a future. A future bright with promise, rich with love, and protected by the fiercest family any child could ask for. Even if they couldn't agree on what her first word should be.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

ISO x kawaii reader?

I have some drafts for a iso x kawaii style reader should I post them

yes absolutely

no way

Voting ended onMar 20, 2025

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Echos of home part 9 growing pains

"If one more person touches my stomach without asking," the reader grumbled, watching Phoenix and Raze argue over who got to feel the baby kick, "I'm going to let Sova shoot them." At five months along, their bump had become the compound's favorite new attraction. Even Chamber, usually so composed, had been caught talking to it in French when he thought no one was looking.

Sova's protective instincts had reached new levels. Just yesterday, he'd nearly put an arrow through Breach for startling them with an unexpected belly pat. "Personal space," he'd growled, while the reader tried not to laugh at his bristling. "I should be godparent," Phoenix declared during breakfast.

"I'm clearly the most fun." "You set things on fire," Killjoy countered. "I'm building them educational toys. And a state-of-the-art monitoring system. And-" "Please stop turning our child into a surveillance project," the reader sighed, one hand on their bump while the other reached for toast. Sova immediately moved to get it for them, but Thrash was faster, carefully bringing the plate over. "See? Even Gekko's creatures are better candidates," Jett teased. "Wingman has been practicing his babysitting skills," Gekko added proudly, as the little creature demonstrated his perfected swaddling technique on Mosh.

"They're kicking again," the reader whispered one night, guiding Sova's hand to the spot. His face lit up with wonder, as it did every time. He pressed a kiss to their stomach, murmuring something in Russian. "What are you telling them?" "How lucky they are," he smiled. "To have so many people who already love them."

The cravings drove everyone crazy. "Who wants pierogies with chocolate sauce at 3 AM?" Phoenix complained, but he still helped make them. "Better than last week's pickles and ice cream phase," Harbor chuckled. "I still say the curry-dipped watermelon was worse," Fade added. "You try growing a tiny human," the reader shot back, happily dipping their chocolate-covered pierogi in hot sauce.

The betting pool for godparent was getting out of hand. "I've known them longest," Killjoy argued. "I'm teaching the baby parkour," Jett declared. "Absolutely not," Sova and the reader said in unison. "I'm the most responsible," Cypher stated. "You literally spy on people for fun," Raze pointed out. "I'm writing them a tactical training program," Brimstone offered. "They're not even born yet!" Sage exclaimed, exasperated.

The nursery became a group project, much to Chamber's horror. "The aesthetic is all wrong," he complained, watching Raze paint cartoon bunnies on the wall. "Babies don't care about aesthetic," Phoenix argued, hanging up the mobile Killjoy had engineered to play lullabies and display constellations. Sova just smiled, watching their family transform the room with pieces of themselves. Breach's carefully crafted wooden crib. Harbor's hand-painted ocean mural. Fade's dreamcatcher. Cypher's (heavily monitored) baby monitors. "Does it bother you?" they asked Sova one evening, watching him glare at yet another unauthorized belly touch. "All the attention?" He softened immediately.

"No, myshka. Well... maybe a little. But seeing how much they already love our child..." He placed his hand protectively over their bump. "It makes me happy. Even if they are all terrible at personal space." "Speaking of space," they grinned, "your child is currently doing acrobatics on my bladder. Again." "Now they're my child?" he laughed, helping them up. "When they're making me pee every five minutes? Absolutely."

The arguments over names were endless. "Something traditional," Sova suggested. "Something unique," Phoenix countered. "Something that strikes fear into the hearts of enemies," Reyna offered. "It's a baby, not a weapon," Sage sighed. But the sweetest moments were the quiet ones. Sova singing Russian lullabies when he thought everyone was asleep. Wingman curled protectively around the bump during naps. The way the whole team would drop everything if the reader so much as winced.

The sight of hardened agents cooing at ultrasound pictures. "Our child is going to be so spoiled," they mused one night, watching Sova arrange the stuffed animals everyone kept bringing. "Our child is going to be so loved," he corrected softly. Because that's what they had built here - not just a nursery, but a home. Not just a team, but a family. A family that might not understand personal space, or normal boundaries, or appropriate baby gifts (Chamber had already ordered a tiny bespoke suit), but who loved fiercely, protected absolutely, and would move heaven and earth for the tiny life growing in their midst. Even if they wouldn't stop touching the bump without permission.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Lens of survival part 3 First steps

The next few days passed in a blur of medical checks and debriefings. You learned to distinguish the soft footsteps of each agent - Sage's gentle glide, Killjoy's energetic bounce, Cypher's measured stride that still made you tense despite your best efforts. It was during one of these quiet moments, a week after your arrival, that Alpha Yoru appeared in your doorway with a covered dish. "This proves nothing," he said gruffly, setting the dish on your bedside table.

The familiar scent of perfectly seasoned rice and pickled plum made your throat tight. "I just had extra." You stared at the onigiri, perfectly triangular just like your Yoru used to make. "Thank you," you whispered. He hovered awkwardly, clearly wrestling with something. Finally, he spoke. "The other me... was he really like a brother to you?" "He saved my life," you said softly, picking up one of the rice balls.

"Not just at the end. Long before that. He..." you swallowed hard, "he used to make me laugh when I forgot how." Yoru's jaw clenched. "Tell me." And so you did. You told him about the time Omega Yoru had found you crying in the break room after a particularly bad "argument" with Cypher. How he'd dragged you to the training room and taught you to throw punches, not to fight back - you both knew that would only make things worse - but to feel strong again. How he'd started leaving onigiri in your locker, a silent reminder that someone saw you, someone cared.

"He wasn't always angry like you," you added, seeing Alpha Yoru's perpetual scowl. "He was... lighter. Before the war changed everything. Before he had to watch his friends become monsters." "I'm not him," Yoru said sharply, but his voice lacked its usual bite. "No," you agreed. "You're not. But you made his recipe exactly right." He left without another word, but the next day, there was fresh onigiri waiting when you woke up. Your physical recovery progressed faster than your emotional one. Sage cleared you to leave the medical bay, though you were still confined to the residential wing of the facility.

They gave you a small room - sparse but clean, with a window overlooking the city. More importantly, it had a lock you controlled. It was during your first night there that the nightmare hit. You were back in his surveillance room, screens everywhere showing your face, your movements, your failed attempts to run. His voice whispering, "I do this because I love you. Because you need protection. Because you're mine." You woke up screaming, tangled in sheets damp with sweat. Your door burst open, and you scrambled back against the headboard before recognizing Alpha Cypher in the doorway, his mask slightly askew as if he'd put it on in a hurry.

"You're safe," he said, staying in the doorway, hands where you could see them. "No one here will hurt you." Behind him, you could see other agents - Sage looking concerned, Killjoy in pajamas covered in tiny robots, Yoru pretending he hadn't rushed over. "I'm sorry," you managed, embarrassed at causing such a commotion. "I didn't mean to-" "Don't apologize," Cypher cut you off, his voice firm but gentle. "May I come in? Just to check the room? I'll leave the door open." You nodded, watching as he methodically inspected every corner, every shadow. You knew what he was doing - showing you there were no cameras, no surveillance devices, nothing hidden in the darkness.

It was such a stark contrast to how his counterpart would have reacted that you felt tears forming. "All clear," he reported, maintaining his distance. "Would you like someone to stay? Sage or Killjoy perhaps?" You shook your head. "I'm okay. I just... I need to remember where I am." "Where you are," he said carefully, "is under my protection. The right kind, this time." He touched his mask, a gesture you'd come to recognize as discomfort. "I've been... struggling with what my counterpart did. I want you to know that I would never-" "I know," you interrupted, surprising yourself with how much you meant it. "You're nothing like him. Not where it counts."

Something shifted in his posture - relief, maybe, or resolution. "Try to rest. Tomorrow, if you're willing, I'd like to start teaching you about our security systems. Not to control you," he added quickly, "but so you can understand how we keep everyone safe. Together." After he left, you lay awake for a long time, thinking about trust and second chances. Outside your door, you could hear quiet movements - someone standing guard. From the rhythm of the footsteps, it was Yoru.

You smiled slightly, remembering another Yoru who used to do the same thing. Different world, different man, same protective heart. Maybe that was the key to all of this - finding the echoes of goodness in these familiar strangers, while accepting that they were their own people. Not replacements for what you'd lost, but something new. Something, potentially, better. You fell asleep to the sound of those pacing footsteps, and this time, no nightmares came.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Protective cookie

Harbor x female reader one-shot

"Special delivery!" Your voice echoes through the Valorant compound's common area as you navigate the security checkpoint . The guards barely glance at your credentials anymore – you're as much a fixture here as the training dummies.

"Please tell me those are my muffins," Jett materializes beside you, practically vibrating with excitement.

You laugh, carefully setting down your loaded delivery cart. "Yes, your hotteok-inspired muffins are here. And before anyone else shows up—" you start pulling out labeled boxes "—Raze's pão de queijo, Sova's black bread, and... where did I put Cypher's baklava?"

"Looking for this?" Varun's deep voice makes you turn. He's holding up the box in question, a knowing smile on his face. "I intercepted it at the front gate. Had to make sure it was... secure."

"The only thing that needs securing is your sweet tooth," you tease, noting the telltale crumbs on his vest. "That was meant for Cypher."

"I'll make it up to him." Varun moves closer, ostensibly to help unload your cart, but his hand lingers on yours longer than necessary. "Though I'm still waiting for my cardamom cookies."

"Second delivery of the day, remember? These are just breakfast essentials."

"BREAKFAST!" Gekko bursts into the room, Phoenix hot on his heels. "Yo, did you bring those chocolate croissants? The ones from yesterday were insane!" You start distributing boxes, watching fondly as the agents gather around like eager kids. It's hard to believe these are the same people you see on the news, fighting world-threatening dangers. Right now, they're just people excited about fresh-baked goods.

"Sage, your green tea bread is in the blue box," you call out, spotting the healer trying to peek around Fade. "And yes, I remembered the extra sesame seeds."

"You spoil us," Sage says warmly, collecting her box.

"That's literally my job," you remind her, but you're smiling. Over the past year, these deliveries have become more than just business. Each recipe is carefully tailored to bring a taste of home to these agents who give up so much to protect others. Varun appears at your elbow again, helping you restack empty boxes. "You know," he says quietly, "you could just leave everything in the kitchen."

"And miss all this?" You gesture to where Gekko is dramatically declaring his love for your pastries while Fade rolls her eyes. "Besides, how else would I get to see you?"

His expression softens. "Dinner tonight? That little place by your bakery?"

"Can't. Got a massive wedding cake order to finish." You reach up to straighten his collar, a habit you've developed over months of stolen moments between deliveries. "But I might have some extra cardamom cookies that need taste-testing around nine."

"Nine it is."

The next morning starts like any other – up at 4 AM, ovens warming, dough rising. You're humming as you shape Brimstone's favorite sourdough when the first window breaks.

The smoke comes next.

"She's not answering." Varun's voice is tight as he stares at his phone. The pre-dawn sky is tinted orange with flames, reflecting off the water gathering unconsciously around his feet.

"Harbor," Brimstone warns, using his code name in the field. "We do this by the book."

But Varun's already moving, water surging around him as he pushes through the police line. He finds you outside your burning bakery, soot-stained and shaking, clutching a charred recipe book to your chest.

"Varun," you choke out, and he pulls you into his arms, not caring about the ash or the witnesses or protocol.

"I've got you," he murmurs into your hair. "I've got you."

"Brimstone, sir." Varun's voice is uncharacteristically formal as he stands in the commander's office. "A moment?" Brimstone looks up from his tactical display, noting the unusual tension in his controller's stance. "What's on your mind, Harbor?"

"It's about the baker – about her." Varun runs a hand through his hair, leaving it slightly disheveled. "She's lost everything. Her home was above the bakery, her business..."

"I'm aware of the situation."

"She needs somewhere safe. Somewhere protected." Varun straightens his shoulders. "I'm requesting permission to bring her into the compound." Brimstone's eyebrows rise. "That's not a small ask. This is a military facility, not a refugee center."

"She's already cleared for daily access. Has been for over a year." Varun steps forward, placing both hands on Brimstone's desk. "Sir, she's been targeted because of her connection to us. We owe her this."

"We owe a lot of people, Harbor."

"Then let me rephrase." Varun's voice drops lower, more serious than Brimstone has ever heard it. "I'm not leaving her vulnerable. If the compound isn't an option, I'll find somewhere else, but I'll be going with her." Brimstone studies him for a long moment, then sighs. "You're really ready to walk away from Valorant? For a baker?"

"For her? Yes."

Another long pause, then Brimstone's face cracks into a slight smile. "Well, damn, son. Why didn't you lead with that?" He taps something into his display. "I'll have quarters arranged. But Harbor?"

"Sir?"

"She's your responsibility. And if this compromises any missions..."

"It won't," Varun promises, relief flooding his features. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me yet. Wait until you see how the others react to having their favorite baker under the same roof."

Three weeks later, the Valorant compound's kitchen has become your new domain. It's different – sterile and industrial where your bakery was cozy and worn – but you're adapting. The agents help in their own ways: Killjoy upgraded all the ovens, Sage brings you herbs from her garden, and Varun... well, Varun barely leaves your side.

"That's the fourth time you've checked the security feeds," you note, catching him glancing at his tablet again. "Can't be too careful," he mutters. "We still don't know who targeted you."

You set down your rolling pin, wiping flour on your apron. "Varun." "The timing's too convenient. Right after you signed the expanded contract with Valorant—" "Varun." "—and there have been other incidents with our suppliers—"

"VARUN!"

He stops, finally looking at you properly. There's flour in your hair and worry in his eyes, and suddenly you can't stand the distance between you. You cross the kitchen to take his face in your hands. "I'm okay," you tell him firmly. "I'm here, I'm safe, and I'm not going anywhere."

"But your bakery—"

"Was just a building." Your thumb traces his cheekbone, leaving a faint white streak. "Everything that matters – my recipes, my skills, the people I care about – that's all still here. Including this very handsome, very overprotective man who's about to miss out on fresh cardamom cookies if he doesn't stop brooding."

That gets a small smile. "You're making them now?" "Was going to, but someone keeps distracting me with security concerns." "I do not brood," he protests, but his arms slide around your waist. "You absolutely do. Now, are you going to help me bake, or—"

"YO!" Gekko's voice echoes from the doorway. "Is that cardamom I smell? Hook me up!" Varun's grip tightens slightly. "We're closed." "But—" "Closed," Varun repeats, a hint of his controller authority creeping in.

You hide your smile in his chest as Gekko retreats, grumbling about favoritism. "You know they're just going to try stealing them later."

"Let them try." Water ripples briefly around his feet. "These ones are just for us." You reach up to kiss him softly, tasting traces of the cardamom cookie he definitely snuck earlier. "My possessive water bender."

"Your what now?"

"Never mind." You pat his chest, leaving a flour handprint. "Help me with these cookies, and I might make those masala chai scones you love."

Varun knows something is wrong the moment he enters the common area. There's a suspicious lack of agents, for one thing. And there's a familiar sweet-spicy scent in the air that should definitely not be there, because those treats were supposed to be in his quarters, specially made just for him.

He rounds the corner to find Phoenix and Gekko sprawled on the couch, crumbs everywhere, and a very familiar box between them. On the floor lies a discarded note with a cute angry face drawn on it and the words "VARUN'S ONLY" in your handwriting.

"Those," he says, his voice dangerously calm as water begins to pool around his feet, "were mine."

Phoenix freezes mid-bite. "Uh... mate... we can explain..."

"Yoru dared us!" Gekko blurts out, already backing away.

"Wrong answer." The water rises.

Phoenix grabs Gekko's arm. "Run!" Varun's shout echoes through the compound: "GET BACK HERE WITH MY MASALA TREATS!"

You're in the middle of kneading dough when a soaking wet Phoenix and Gekko burst into the kitchen, followed by a very smug-looking Varun.

"Really?" you ask, trying not to laugh at their drenched appearance. "They stole my special box," Varun says, attempting to look dignified despite the satisfaction radiating from him.

"So you turned the common room into a swimming pool?" "They deserved it." He walks over to kiss your flour-dusted cheek. "Those were my treats. You even put a note."

"I'll make you more," you promise, patting his chest. "Though maybe next time I'll label them 'Property of Harbor' with a skull and crossbones."

"That won't stop us!" Gekko declares, then immediately ducks behind Phoenix when Varun turns to glare at him. "Out," Varun commands, pointing to the door. "Both of you. And if I catch you near my treats again..."

They scramble away, leaving puddles in their wake. You turn to face Varun, trying to maintain a stern expression. "You're going to have to mop that up, you know."

He pulls you close, not caring about the flour that transfers to his clothes. "Worth it. Though I am still short one box of special treats."

"Poor baby," you tease, reaching up to smooth his furrowed brow. "How about I make you a fresh batch? With extra cardamom this time?"

His face lights up, then immediately tries to school itself into something more dignified. "If you insist."

You laugh, stretching up to kiss him. "Just try not to flood the compound when Yoru inevitably puts them up to stealing these ones too."

"No promises," he murmurs against your lips, and you can feel his smile. "A man has to defend his territory."

"Your territory being... baked goods?"

"My territory being anything you make specially for me." His arms tighten around you. "I don't share well."

"I've noticed." You pull back just enough to look at him properly. "Now, are you going to help me clean up this flour, or are you too busy plotting revenge against treat thieves?"

"Can't I do both?"

The sound of your laughter mixing with his deep chuckle echoes through the kitchen, and you think that maybe, just maybe, losing your bakery led you exactly where you were meant to be – even if you do have to deal with treat-stealing agents and an overprotective water-wielding boyfriend who turns the compound into a splash park at the slightest provocation.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Lens of survival part 2 strangers with familiar faces

You woke to the steady beep of a heart monitor and the smell of antiseptic. For one terrifying moment, you thought you were back in the medical wing of Omega Valorant's headquarters, where he'd kept you "safe" after your third escape attempt. But no - the lighting was different here. Softer. And the restraints you'd grown used to were absent.

"She's awake," a gentle voice said - Sage, but not quite the hardened warrior from your world. This one moved with the same grace but carried less visible weight on her shoulders. You tried to sit up, but your body protested. A firm hand pressed against your shoulder. "Easy there," came a heavily accented voice that made your heart skip a beat. It was him- no, not him. Alpha Cypher. The differences were subtle but crucial. His touch was clinical, professional, nothing like the possessive grip you'd grown to fear. "You have three bruised ribs and severe exhaustion. Best to stay still."

You managed to turn your head, taking in the medical bay. It was larger than you expected, pristine and well-equipped. Through the window, you could see the sun setting over a city skyline that wasn't scarred by war. "Where..." your voice cracked. "Valorant headquarters," Sage answered, offering you water through a straw. "You've been unconscious for sixteen hours. We had to treat several injuries, some recent, others..." she paused, her expression darkening, "older." The door burst open, making you flinch violently. Alpha Yoru stormed in, his face twisted in a scowl that was painfully familiar - you'd seen it on your Yoru's face countless times when he'd patched you up after... "So this is the dimensional refugee," he spat, keeping his distance but radiating hostility.

"How do we know she's not a spy? Another Kingdom trick?" "Yoru," Sage warned, but you were already speaking. "You taught me how to make onigiri," you blurted out, looking at him desperately. "Not you-you, but my world's you. You said your mother's recipe was the only thing that could make any day better. You put umeboshi in the center, even though most people prefer salmon, because that's how she made it." The room fell silent. Alpha Yoru's eyes widened slightly before narrowing again. "A lucky guess," he muttered, but some of the hostility had faded.

"Perhaps," Cypher said, and you forced yourself not to shrink away from his voice, "but her injuries are very real. As is her fear." His tone was analytical, observant. "You flinch every time I move too quickly. You won't look me in the eye. And your heart rate spikes when I speak." He gestured to the monitor. "Why is that?" You closed your eyes, tears threatening to fall. "Because you look like him. Sound like him. The other you. The one I ran from." "The one who hurt you," Sage added softly, understanding dawning in her eyes.

You nodded, and the dam broke. Through tears, you told them everything. About how you'd met Omega Cypher when he'd saved you from a Kingdom raid. How charming he'd been at first, how safe you'd felt. How gradually things had changed. The surveillance. The control. The "accidents" when you disobeyed. How Omega Yoru had discovered the truth and spent months helping you plan this escape. When you finished, the room was deadly quiet. Alpha Cypher had gone completely still, his hands clenched at his sides. Sage's face showed a mixture of horror and compassion. And Yoru... Yoru looked like he wanted to tear through dimensions himself. "I know how it sounds," you whispered. "I know you have no reason to trust me. But I swear, I'm not a spy. I'm just... tired of running."

"We'll need to verify your story," another voice said from the doorway. Brimstone - this world's version of the commander - stood there, his expression grave. "But for now, you'll stay here. Under supervision." "Under protection," Sage corrected firmly. "She's a victim, not a prisoner." "Both," Cypher said quietly, and something in his tone made you look up.

His expression was hidden behind his mask, but his voice held a conviction that made your breath catch. "She'll be both protected and watched. Not because we don't trust her, but because if what she says is true, her Cypher won't stop looking. And I know exactly how resourceful I can be." A shiver ran down your spine, but for the first time in ages, it wasn't from fear. In this Cypher's voice, you heard something you'd almost forgotten could exist - a desire to protect that didn't come with chains.

"Rest," Sage instructed, adjusting your IV. "We'll talk more when you're stronger." As your eyes grew heavy again, you saw Alpha Yoru lingering by the door, his expression troubled. Just before sleep took you, you heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like "onigiri with umeboshi" under his breath. Maybe, just maybe, you could find a new family here. One that wouldn't break you.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

echos home part 8 unexpected blessings

It started with Wingman being oddly picky.

The little creature, usually friendly with everyone, had started acting strange around Sova. He'd chirp excitedly, sniffing at him before allowing him anywhere near the reader.

"What, do I smell bad?" Sova joked one morning, as Wingman thoroughly inspected him before letting him sit next to them. "Maybe you need more showers after training," they teased, but it kept happening. Thrash was just as peculiar, giving Sova thorough once-overs before approving his presence. Even Dizzy and Mosh seemed to be evaluating him differently.

"Your buddies think I'm suspicious," Sova told Gekko, who just shrugged with an oddly knowing smile. Then other things started adding up. The coffee they usually shared with Sova in the mornings suddenly made them queasy. Their favorite training sessions with Sage left them unusually exhausted. And during movie night, they fell asleep on Sova's shoulder barely twenty minutes in.

It was Viper who finally pushed them toward realisation. "Those samples you helped me with yesterday," she said casually. "The ones you said made you nauseous? They've never bothered you before."

Come to think of it, a lot of things had been making them nauseous lately. And tired. And...

"Oh," they whispered, counting days in their head. "Oh no."

"Well?" they asked, watching Sage's healing orb pulse gently over their abdomen. The healer's smile was radiant. "Congratulations."

They sat heavily on the medical bed, hands trembling as they touched their still-flat stomach. "I'm... we're..." "About eight weeks," Sage confirmed gently. "Would you like me to get Sova?"

"No! I mean... I need to process first. Need to figure out how to tell him." Their laugh was shaky. "How do you tell your boyfriend you're having a baby when you live in a secret agent compound?" Sage's laugh was warm. "With love. And perhaps away from any breakable objects."

They found Sova in the training range, because of course they did. His practice stopped the moment they entered, reading the tension in their posture.

"Myshka? What's wrong?" "Nothing's wrong," they said quickly. "Just... remember how you said I smelled different?"He nodded slowly, setting his bow aside.b"And how Gekko's creatures have been extra protective?"

Another nod, closer now. "And how I cried yesterday because Phoenix ate the last cookie?" "To be fair, they were your favorite-" he stopped, eyes widening. "Are you..."

They took his hand, placing it gently on their stomach. "We're going to have a baby." The bow clattered to the floor. "A... we're..." His accent thickened with emotion. "You're certain?"

They nodded, tears spilling over. "Sage confirmed it. Eight weeks." "Eight..." his voice cracked. "A baby. Our baby."

His hands trembled as they cupped their face, and then he was kissing them, lifting them, spinning them in circles as they laughed and cried together. "I love you," he breathed between kisses. "Both of you. So much."

Outside the training room, pressed against the door like children, the agents tried to contain their excitement. "Called it," Gekko whispered. "My buddies knew first."

"Shut up," Jett hissed. "I can't hear-" "Did he just drop his bow?" Phoenix snickered. "The man never drops his bow-"

"Shh!" Killjoy swatted at them. "This is important intel gathering!" "You mean eavesdropping," Cypher corrected, but he was pressed just as close to the door.

"A baby," Raze whispered dreamily. "A little Sova..." "Or a little y/n," Fade added softly.

"Either way, they'll be the most protected child in existence," Chamber declared. Inside, they could hear Sova's voice, thick with joy: "We're going to be parents."

"We're going to be aunts and uncles!" Gekko whispered excitedly. The door suddenly opened, sending them all tumbling forward in a heap of supposedly elite agents.

Sova and the reader stood there, tear-streaked and beaming, hands clasped over their stomach. "So," the reader laughed, "I guess we don't need to figure out how to tell everyone?"

The room erupted in cheers and congratulations. Wingman danced excitedly around their feet while Thrash puffed up proudly.

"I get to be the cool uncle, right?" Phoenix called.

"You'll have competition," Harbor chuckled.

"The baby will need security systems," Killjoy was already planning. "And educational toys-" “And proper fashion sense," Chamber added. "And combat training-" Raze started, before Sage cut her off. "Perhaps let them be born first?"

Sova pulled the reader close, pressing a kiss to their temple as their family excitedly planned their child's future. His hand never left their stomach, protective and loving.

"Are you happy?" they whispered. His smile was blindingly bright. "Happier than I knew was possible." Because this - this was more than recovery, more than healing. This was new life, new hope, new beginnings.

This was love winning over fear, joy drowning out old pain, family growing stronger with each passing day.

This was their future, wrapped safely in the warmth of now.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

echos of home part 7 shadows and light

"Be safe," they whispered, straightening Sova's jacket collar. Six months had taught them to handle the anxiety of his missions, but it never got easier. "Always, myshka." He pressed his forehead to theirs. "I'll be back before you can miss me." "Too late," they smiled, rising on tiptoes to kiss him. "Already missing you."

"Spike spotted, B site," Cypher's voice crackled through the comms. "Four hostiles, maybe five." Sova, Phoenix, Killjoy, and Breach moved through Haven's corridors with practiced precision. A routine spike defusal - until it wasn't. The arrow was familiar. Too familiar. "Down!" Sova shouted as the recon bolt arced overhead, its signature identical to his own. "Oh no," Killjoy breathed, recognition hitting them all at once. Through the smoke, a figure emerged. Same bow. Same gear. Same face. Omega Sova.

"Brother," the duplicate's cold smile was wrong on those familiar features. "Miss me?" Phoenix's flames erupted instinctively. "You sick bastard-" "How are they, by the way?" Omega Sova's voice was casual, cruel. "Do they still wake up screaming? Still flinch at his touch?" Sova's arrow was drawn before he finished speaking, rage making his hands shake. "Careful," Omega taunted. "Wouldn't want to make any... mistakes. Like leaving them alone that night-"

"Shut up!" Killjoy's turret deployed with violent speed. "Such protectiveness," Omega mused, dodging with familiar grace. "They must have truly charmed you all. Tell me, do they know what you really are yet? What you're capable of?" "We are nothing alike," Sova growled, another arrow nocked. "No?" Omega's laugh was cold. "We share the same face, same skills, same... tastes."

Breach's mechanical hands whirred dangerously. "Keep talking. Give me a reason." "Or what?" Omega's eyes glittered. "You'll kill me? Like you should have done that night? Before I-" The bullet caught him mid-sentence - from Phoenix, who had flanked during his monologue. "Less talking," Phoenix snarled, flames wreathing his hands, "more dying." The fight erupted in earnest. Two Sovas, identical in skill but worlds apart in intent, their arrows crossing like lightning. Phoenix and Breach coordinating with their Sova with practiced ease, while Killjoy's utility hemmed in the duplicate.

"You know," Omega called, ducking behind cover, "they begged so prettily. Called my name - your name - so sweetly-" The rage that tore through Sova was primal, but Phoenix caught his arm. "He's baiting you," Phoenix hissed. "Don't let him-" "They still wear my marks," Omega continued, his voice carrying. "In their mind, in their dreams. I'm still there, every time they look at you-"

"Enough!" The bullet that finally caught Omega came from Cypher, materializing from shadows. "Your intel is outdated," the sentinel said coldly. "They're stronger than you knew. They survived you. They're thriving."

"They sleep safely in his arms now," Killjoy added, her turret tracking Omega's movement. "They smile again, laugh again-" "They bake with us," Phoenix continued, flames intensifying. "Train with us. Live with us." "They're family," Breach finished. "Something you know nothing about." Omega's face twisted with rage, and in that moment, the difference between him and their Sova was stark. Where one face held love, this one held only cold calculation gone wrong. The fight ended not with an arrow, but with teamwork. Breach's fault line, Phoenix's wall of flames, Killjoy's nano swarms, and twin shock darts from both Cypher and Sova. As Omega fell, his form flickering, his cold eyes found Sova's. "This changes nothing," he spat. "Every time they see your face-" "They see love," Sova cut him off. "They see family. They see home." His final arrow found its mark. "They see everything you tried to destroy and failed."

As Omega's form dissipated, Sova's comm crackled to life. "Sova?" Their voice, warm and whole. "Sage said the mission's done. Are you... is everyone okay?" He closed his eyes, letting their voice wash away the echo of cruelty wearing his face. "Yes, myshka. We're coming home." Because that's what they were now - not just his home, but a home for all of them. A reminder of what they fought for, what they protected. What love could survive, and heal, and strengthen. "Tell them to have hot chocolate ready," Phoenix called into the comm, making them laugh. "Already on it," they replied. "Hurry back. All of you." Sova looked at his team - his family - and nodded. Together, they headed home, leaving shadows behind in favor of warmth, and light, and love that was stronger than any darkness wearing a familiar face.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Echos of home part 6 new foundations

Six months could change everything. The Valorant compound had become home, their small apartment with Sova a carefully crafted sanctuary. Photos lined the walls - not just of them and Sova, but of their growing found family. Raze teaching them to make brigadeiros in the communal kitchen. Gekko and his creatures pile-up during movie night. Harbor showing them how to properly brew masala chai.

Tonight, they stood at the kitchen counter, flour dusting their clothes as they kneaded dough. Sova's arms wrapped around them from behind, his chin resting on their shoulder as he watched. "You're doing it wrong," he teased softly, his accent warm against their ear. "Oh?" They leaned back against his chest, no tension in the movement. "Like you do any better with my mother's recipe?" His laugh vibrated through them, and they smiled, turning their head to catch his lips in a gentle kiss. In the doorway, Killjoy quickly gestured to Raze, who peeked around the corner.

Both women grinned at the domestic scene. "Remember when they couldn't even be in the same room?" Raze whispered. "Ja, and now look," Killjoy's eyes were suspiciously bright. "Our little family is healing." Later that evening, the common room was full of agents winding down after missions. The reader sat curled against Sova's side on the couch, his arm draped comfortably around them as they both laughed at Phoenix's dramatic mission retelling. "And then- I swear this is true- Chamber just goes 'This is a three-thousand credit suit' while dodging bullets!" "It was four thousand, actually," Chamber corrected primly, making everyone groan. The reader's laughter was interrupted by a yawn, and they nestled closer to Sova's warmth. His hand automatically came up to stroke their hair, the gesture natural and unthinking. Fade, watching from her corner, smiled softly at the absence of nightmares in their aura. The darkness that had clung to them for so long was finally fading, replaced by something warmer. "Tired, myshka?" Sova asked quietly. "Mhmm. Sage worked me hard in training today." This casual mention of training - of their choice to learn to defend themselves - made several agents exchange proud looks. They'd come so far from those first terrified days.

"They're sparring again," Jett announced, zipping into the briefing room where several agents were gathered. "You have to see this." They crowded around the training room window, watching as Sova guided the reader through proper stance for archery. His hands were gentle as they adjusted their posture, and the reader leaned into his touch with easy trust. "Remember," they heard him say, "breathe with the draw..." The arrow flew, hitting just outside the bullseye. The reader spun around with a delighted laugh, throwing their arms around Sova's neck. He caught them easily, spinning them once before setting them down for a kiss. "Get a room!" Gekko called through the window, making the couple break apart with matching blushes.

Night brought its own victories. The nightmares still came sometimes, but now they knew how to handle them. Like tonight, when they jerked awake with a gasp. Sova stirred immediately but didn't touch, waiting. "Sasha?" Their voice was small but certain - they knew who was beside them. "I'm here, myshka." They reached for him first - another victory - and he gathered them close, pressing soft kisses to their hair. "Want to go to the garden?" he offered quietly. They shook their head, burrowing closer. "No. Just... just hold me. You smell like home."

The changes showed in small ways. How they'd curl up in Cypher's surveillance room, letting him teach them to play chess. The way they'd join Viper in her lab, genuinely curious about her work. Their weekly cooking sessions with Phoenix and Raze, filling the compound with the scents of different homes. "They're good for him," Breach commented one day, watching Sova and the reader spar playfully in the training room. "Never seen him smile so much." "Good for all of us," Brimstone corrected. "Remind us what we're fighting for."

In their apartment that evening, Sova watched as they moved around their shared space, adding fresh flowers to the vase by the window - Sage's contribution to their home. "What are you thinking about?" they asked, catching his thoughtful look. "How far we've come," he said honestly. "How brave you are." They crossed to him, sliding their arms around his waist. "We're brave together." His kiss tasted like promise and pierogies, and they smiled against his lips.

On their bookshelf, a framed photo showed the whole team at last month's game night - the reader tucked safely between Sova and Gekko's creatures, surrounded by their found family, smiling without shadows in their eyes. Six months could change everything. But love, the real kind, the kind that survived wearing the face of nightmares - that stayed the same. Just stronger, deeper, more certain with every gentle touch and flour-dusted kiss. Recovery wasn't a straight line, but they were walking it together. And that made all the difference.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Echos of home part 5 recognition

The Valorant garden was neutral ground - open air, multiple exits, no confined spaces. Sage had suggested it for the first meeting, knowing they needed somewhere that didn't feel like a hospital, like containment. The reader sat on a stone bench, Wingman curled protectively in their lap while Thrash stood guard nearby. Three weeks of recovery had brought back some color to their face, some life to their eyes, but their hands still trembled as they waited.

"Remember," Sage said gently, "you control this. If it becomes too much-" "I know," they whispered, fingers absently stroking Wingman's head. "I just... I need to know. If I can..." "We're right here," Gekko assured from his spot nearby, Dizzy and Mosh hovering protectively. "Not going anywhere." The soft sound of footsteps made them tense. Wingman chirped softly, patting their hand.

Sova appeared at the garden entrance, and their breath caught. He looked... different. Thinner, darker circles under his eyes, his usual precise posture tight with tension. He'd forgone his usual gear - no bow, no devices, just simple civilian clothes. He stopped several meters away, hands visible at his sides, giving them space. The distance felt like an ocean. "Hello, myshka," he said softly, his accent thicker with emotion. They flinched at the endearment, and his face crumpled for a moment before he carefully schooled his expression.

"I'm sorry," he started to step back. "I shouldn't have-" "Wait." Their voice was barely a whisper, but he froze immediately. Wingman made an encouraging sound, nudging their hand. "Just... give me a moment." They made themselves look at him - really look. Past the face that had haunted their nightmares, past the voice that echoed in their worst memories. Looking for... there. The small scar above his eyebrow from a cooking accident last year. The way he held his left shoulder slightly higher than his right - an old injury he'd never fully explained. The gentle worry in his eyes - not the cold calculation they remembered from that night.

"You..." they swallowed hard. "You still have flour on your sleeve." Sova blinked, looking down at his shirt. A faint white smudge marked the cuff. "I was... stress baking," he admitted quietly. "Your mother’s recipe. I know I never get them quite right, but..." A sob caught in their throat. Because that - that was their Sova. The man who stress-baked comfort food, who could never quite match their mother's recipe but kept trying because he knew they loved it. The other one wouldn't have known that. Wouldn't have cared.

"Could..." they took a shaky breath, Wingman squeezing their hand encouragingly. "Could you come a little closer? Not... not all the way, just..." He moved forward slowly, telegraphing each step, stopping when they tensed. Still too far to touch, but close enough to see the flecks of grey in his blue eyes. The ones that crinkled at the corners when he really smiled, unlike the cold, perfect copy they'd seen that night. "I missed you," they whispered, and his breath hitched. "I know that doesn't... doesn't fix anything. Doesn't make it okay. But I..." "I missed you too," his voice cracked. "Every second. Every breath."

Thrash moved slightly, positioning herself so they could see both her and Sova clearly. A reminder that they were protected, safe. "I keep..." they struggled to find the words. "I keep trying to separate it in my head. You and... and him. But sometimes..." "I know," he said softly. "And I will spend every day helping you remember the difference. Even... even if you never want me close again. Even if this is as near as I can ever be. I just need you to know that I-" "You have flour on your sleeve," they repeated, this time with a ghost of a smile. "He wouldn't... he was too perfect. Too precise. But you..." "Am a mess?" The corner of his mouth twitched. "Are real," they corrected quietly. "Are... are my Sasha." The name hung between them like a bridge - fragile, tentative, but there.

Wingman looked between them, then carefully stood. To everyone's surprise, he waddled over to Sova, took his hand, and began leading him forward. They tensed, but didn't retreat. Thrash rumbled softly behind them, a reminder of safety, as Wingman guided Sova to sit on the far end of the bench. "Is this okay?" Sova asked quietly. They nodded, unable to speak. The space between them on the bench felt like both a chasm and a victory - they were sharing the same space, breathing the same air, and they weren't running.

Wingman settled in the middle of the bench between them, a tiny guardian of the distance they still needed. "I can't..." they started, voice shaking. "I can't promise I won't have bad days. Won't see him sometimes when I look at you." "I know," he said gently. "We have time. All the time you need." They sat in silence for a while, the garden peaceful around them. Then, barely a whisper: "Tell me about what your baking?" Sova's smile was watery but real as he began to talk about his latest attempt at their family recipe. They closed their eyes, letting his voice - soft, warm, imperfect - begin to overlay the colder one in their memories. It wasn't healing. Not yet. But it was a start.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Lens of survival Part 1 the other side

cypher x reader

Your hands trembled as you pressed them against the dimensional tear, feeling the familiar electric tingle of Yoru's power rippling through the air. Behind you, his voice was urgent but steady. "You have exactly forty seconds. Once you're through, run. Don't look back, don't try to contact anyone from this side. Just run."

Yoru - your Yoru, the only person who'd seen through the perfect life you pretended to have - held the rift open with visible strain. "But what about you? He'll know you helped me." Your voice cracked, fingers clutching the small bag containing everything you'd managed to grab in the three minutes Yoru had given you to pack. "I can handle myself." His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you saw the fury in his eyes - the same fury that had surfaced the day he'd discovered the bruises you'd tried so hard to hide. "Now go. Please." The sound of distant footsteps echoing through the abandoned mall made your heart stop. You knew those footsteps. Knew the rhythm of them, the deliberate pace that had haunted your nightmares for the past year. "He's here," you whispered, panic clawing at your throat. "GO!" Yoru shouted, and you didn't hesitate anymore.

You dove through the rift, the world twisting and distorting around you. For a terrifying moment, you were everywhere and nowhere, your body feeling like it was being pulled apart and compressed at the same time. Then, suddenly, you were falling forward onto cold, wet pavement. The rain on this side - Alpha Earth, as Yoru had called it - fell in gentle drops rather than the acid rain of your world. You lay there for a moment, letting it wash over you, trying to catch your breath as the rift sealed behind you with a sound like thunder. You were alone now. In a world that looked like yours but wasn't. A world where another version of him existed.

Your ribs ached as you pushed yourself to your feet, the bruises from three days ago making themselves known. The street you stood on was familiar but different - cleaner, brighter somehow. No signs of war, no propaganda posters plastered on the walls. This was what your world might have been, if things had gone differently. A car horn blared nearby, making you jump. Right. Run. You had to run.

You pulled your hood up, trying to hide your face and the fading bruise on your cheek. Your feet carried you forward automatically, muscle memory from all the times you'd tried to run before. But this time was different. This time, he couldn't use his cameras to find you. Couldn't tap into every security feed in the city. Couldn't send his drones to track you down. This time, you might actually get away. You made it six blocks before your legs gave out. The adrenaline was wearing off, and with it came the crushing weight of everything you'd left behind. Your job. Your friends. Yoru.

You slumped against a wall in an alley, sliding down until you sat on the ground. That's when you saw them - three figures walking down the street. Your heart nearly stopped when you recognized the familiar silhouette of a hat and trench coat. But no - this wasn't him. This was this world's version. The Alpha version. You tried to make yourself smaller, to fade into the shadows, but your movement caught their attention. The woman with them - Sage, you recognized her from the wanted posters in your world - turned her head slightly. "Someone's there," you heard her say softly. You should run. Every instinct screamed at you to run. But you were so tired of running. The beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness, illuminating your huddled form. You heard a sharp intake of breath - probably at the sight of your injuries. "Please," you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse. "I need help. I'm... I'm not from this Earth."

The last thing you saw before exhaustion claimed you was Alpha Cypher's face, so similar yet so different from the one that had haunted you for so long, and the genuine concern in his eyes that you'd never seen in his counterpart's. Then darkness took you, and for the first time in months, you welcomed it.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Lens of survival Masterlist

Alpha earth cypher x female omega earth reader

⚠️ Content Warnings: Trauma Recovery, Past Abuse, Violence, Psychological Manipulation

Part 1: The other side

Part 2: Strangers with familiar faces

Part 3: First steps

Part 4: Small Steps

Part 5: Small steps forward

Part 6:

Part 7:

Part 8:

Part 9:

Part 10:

Part 11:

Part 12:

Epilogue: