hush.

[ a/n: coming right up anon, this was super fun to write cause i lovee angst to fluff.. thanks so much for requesting!! enjoy! ]

• of course he doesn't like you liking other boys who can teleport, especially ones that happen to be blue or filthy rich, or scratch that - just in general. he wishes he could have those warm nights with full, starry skies like you have with omen, or the glamorous sunsets when you have tea with chamber. but he can't, cause he's not omen or chamber. that pisses him off.

• both omen and chamber know this, and see it coming from a mile away. they aren't dense, after all, the only difference is omen actually cares about what yoru feels and keeps his boundaries.

• after an incredible clutch, chamber is applauding and yoru doesn't care about anything but how close he was and your smile that was too bright to ignore. chamber isn't shy to this, of course. he steps a little closer, and you laugh because to you, its just a joke between friends, but to yoru, it's another move on his y/n.

• chamber looks yoru in the eyes, and he smiles, like the bastard he is, and suddenly, yoru is shoving himself between you two. if looks could kill, chamber would long be in the afterlife. chamber however only smirks in response, shows his palms, and backs away, being sure to brush off his suit. "au revoir then, y/n. train your dog better, hm?" he muses, leaving a thoroughly confused y/n and fuming yoru.

• the next day, yoru offers to hang out, insecurity sinking its claws into his head. "i have plans with chamber today," you say, giving the best little guilty smile you could. those words hit him like 50 pounds of bricks. the way his eyes turn cold wipes that smile straight off your face, and you almost stumble back when he advances towards you.

• "fuck chamber," he snarls, "you're staying right here." and then you finally realize - he was jealous. its all clear to you. he pulls himself around your waist, pressing closer until you let out a small squeak, eyes still fluttering from the whiplash of it all. you can't see his face because he's curled around your shoulder, but how him melting into you is contagious and it feels like home.

• "i love you more than anyone. you know that, right?" you whisper against him, giving into his embrace. he kisses your temple as a response and another tiny gasp of surprise escapes you, wondering how long it'd been since you two had a moment like this. his hands are even tighter around you and from how flustered you are, way too long was the answer. "guess i'll have to cancel," you offer a nervous laugh into his shoulder, unsure you could escape even if you wanted to.

Omen and reader on a mission and he gets hit, it wasn't anything major but reader straight up just goes batshit and deletes everything,,, fluff afterwards when reader tends to his wounds ^^

-アノン

[ a/n: thank you anon!! as you can see, i generously took up on your offer :'D, but i hope you enjoy regardless! thanks for requesting <3 ]

• omen is capable as he is deadly, but more so with you. you two are a force of nature on missions, your love only acting as a tighter bond during combat. it becomes a sixth sense to be together, and even brimstone acknowledges what you two could do. omen doesn't make mistakes, always a step ahead, the fear and horror he wanted to be and was made to be.

• ... of course, though, his only weakness is you. when he gets hit, a clean shot to the shoulder, it's because he's looking at you, making sure you're unwounded. his grunt of pain is so, so loud in your ears, even over gunfire, and you turn to see his silhouette almost keeling over.

• when he opens his eyes, nothing breathes anymore. nothing but you, and him, and the long blades of grass struggling to peek through the weight of corpses. he sounds husky, rasp as he always is, but suddenly you're rushing towards him and he doesn't understand what has you so panicked. he tries to catch you, take you in his hands and ask what was wrong, but he sees the blue blood falling through his hands and realizes.

• "no," he growls, immediately clutching his wound and hiding it from your view. "it is nothing to be concerned about." it wasn't safe here, even during silence. he always longed for your touch and never stopped, but he couldn't endanger you, nor others, here with his own weakness. he bled, yes, but he didn't need immediate care. he's lived through worse, killed at worse. it would be best to simply continue.

• then you're clutching his wrists and staring at the wound embedded in his shoulder, face twisted with something he couldn't define, and he can't find his voice to object again when you emerge with medical supplies.

• he isn't the one who's supposed to be protected. he was a monster. he was to be feared, in every manner of the definition. he struggles to find tangible words, claws fidgeting and clicking against each other. "omen, stop moving," you say tersely, impatiently, stress thick in your voice. he scowls, but obeys under the impression this would finish faster, feeling the long white strips of gauze bind his wounds.

[ a/n: couldn't agree more!! thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy! remember to always wear a helmet and take necessary safety precautions please yoru's just trying to look cool for his bf ]

• they accidently switch jackets. PLEASE. one morning the two are extra groggy, and dragging themselves out of bed, they put on opposite jackets. yoru barely even had his eyes open and phoenix just grabbed whatever he did on the way out. they're on a mission and jett's all "ooh! exciting night i see, no need to rub it in," and suddenly yoru's dreading his existence. it really didn't help that they were on seperate missions, so there was no going back. "shut up," he groans, rubbing his temples, and jett snickers. "no, no! share with the class!"

• phoenix, however, is totally flaunting yoru's jacket, the probably thousand dollar one he doesn't let anyone touch, and doesn't stop running his mouth about it 'till he's back at headquarters. there's something weirdly domestic about having yoru's jacket - a little part of his lover with him on the battleground. yoru doesn't agree, but phoenix's scent is comforting.

• once upon a time, they're stationed somewhere, a city, and it's more of a vacation than business. one of the especially boring nights, phoenix has just poured himself a bowl of cereal. "wanna get outta here?" yoru hums, glancing over at phoenix as he walks by, and takes the raised eyebrow as acceptance. "let's take a ride. just you and me." he steals phoenix's hand before the other even has time to react, and phoenix drops his frosted flakes on the table.

• yoru takes him out to his motorcycle, and with a quiet ooh, phoenix extended his grubby little hands, which yoru promptly smacks away.

• "you'll be six feet under 'till you can even touch those fuckin' handles." yoru aggressively jerks his head to the side, and phoenix shows his palms and laughs, backing away. yoru shoves past him and slips on effortlessly, roughly pushing back his hair and letting a few strands fall out of place. phoenix is easily smitten with a yoru glowing blue and pink from vibrant neon lights.

• "then how you expect me to stay on?" phoenix jokes, trying to get back his composure, pulling himself onto the leather seat behind his boyfriend.

• "just hold onto me," yoru raises his eyebrows like it's obvious. he pulls phoenix's hands around his waist without a hitch, like they belonged there, and phoenix blushed a shade of red he never thought he could. yoru, the smug bastard he is, leans closer until he clearly hears phoenix's one-thousand miles an hour heartbeat, and the slight gasp afterwards.

• "you don't have a helmet?" phoenix quipped, voice still more breathy than he wanted it to be, shifting to support yoru's weight. this was much more intimate than he was used to, but the affection made his face feel even hotter. yoru snorted in response, pulling his lip like the very idea was ridiculous.

• "no. scared, sweetheart?" yoru mocks, a taunting glow in his hooded eyes, and phoenix finds himself already grinning back. "hell no." the revving motorcycle engine responds this time.

[ a/n: always a pleasure anon, i'm glad you enjoy my stuff! here's your request (and, don't tell anyone but it was the first one i did when i came back..) i hope you have a wonderful day as well! ]

• nothing slips by cypher - his talent for observing is one he's had since childhood, and its only become better and better as he grew. not in a creepy way, but he knows many things about you - all your nervous ticks or the way you avert your eyes whenever things get awkward. and he respects them. no, no, he respects you - he loves you.

• so, of course when you're feeling down, he knows. quicker than you realize, he's tugging you into your shared bedroom with his wide cyan eyes. "y/n, what is the matter?" he would croon, voice husk but thick with concern. though you're still trying to process what just happened, the question makes you grimace.

• "nothing." the dead echo in your voice has his eyes fluttering with surprise, but he notices how your hands pull in your elbows, the unsteady rythm of your breathing. even with strangers, he knew simple words were rarely the truth, and such candid lies almost have him offended. "nothing?" he inquires, a lick of amusement in his tone. he moved to cradle your cheek, his touch so warm, even through his gloves. "what do you take me for, my love? you can tell me."

• when you finally give in, your sobs are so quiet. they only exist in the quivers of your chest and the slow tears trickling down your face, and before he can fully realize the pain in your eyes, they squeeze shut. you fall into his embrace like you belonged there, and though he was never one for physical affection, he accepts it graciously. he knows no other way to help you. "it's only us, y/n." he whispers, pulling you deeper into his arms until you're trembling against him. the thought of you suffering alone shakes him to his core, eyebrows tense. "you mustn't hide from me."

• those quiet sobs dissolve into cries, ones that wracked your entire body, and cypher is sitting there with you. no matter how long it takes, he strokes your back and whispers his comforts, brushing your tears away with his thumb though more are sure to come. typically, the feeling of a dirtied trenchcoat would have him changing immediately, but he doesn't care - as long as you let everything out.

• he refuses to leave you alone for the rest of the day. he doesn't want you sobbing your heart out and him not being there to support you - so instead, he keeps himself attached to your hip, constantly asking if you need anything. "i'm fine," you laugh, sure to steel your voice enough to where he can't be picky about anything. he huffs in response, hand suave around your waist as he tuts. "why so eager to get rid of me? to think i'm in love with such a cruel mistress."

[ a/n: sure thing anon! enjoy and thanks for requesting! sorry it's shorter than usual, but i wanted to make it.. about the same length as the others? tried? ]

• he finds out... pretty quickly. when he's around, he notices you looking at him, and noticing how you panic whenever he meets your eye - it gets him curious, and he's much more pushy than phoenix or sova. so, when he gets you alone, much to your deepest darkest nightmares, of course he's trying something. and his idea is getting close enough till he can properly read what's going on.

• you see him walking towards you, and you jump, trying to stammer out if he needed anything. you back away, but he advances until you feel your back hit the cold, hard wall and your face is burning red with how close he is. he corners you with his hands, eyes twinkling curiously, and you damn yourself for thinking they were alluring. "so you like me. why didn't you say so?" his voice is sweet and silk when he presses his thumb across your lower lip, intimate touch that was way too much right now, and he can practically feel your blush through his gloves. like the bastard he is, he smiles, satisfied, and finally backs off. only when he leaves you can breathe properly.

• after that, seeing him is practically torture. he praises you with his sly words and you're melting into him, despite your (internal) defiance. one time, you almost speak up, ready to educate him that you were just as much of an agent as he was, but he lazily pulls himself closer and you feel dizzy. he loves seeing you turn bright red everytime he comes too close. and, frankly, it's adorable how obedient you are.

• "nice clutch y/n, i can always count on you," he purrs with a slight squeeze on your shoulder, and he smiles when you mumble out a thank-you that was half gibberish. you avert your eyes under your thick eyelashes, and he pushes your chin up so he can see you properly. he's pleased to see your pretty eyes, widening with panic and too meek to wriggle out from his grasp.

• "yoru!" brimstone barks, and yoru's pulling uo his lip, glaring over his shoulder. stupid old man. "stop bullying y/n and focus on the mission!" you flinch when he turns back to you, annoyance still tensing his features, but it turns into something else. something you think is love, cause your ears turn pink.

[ a/n: thanks so much anon! i love YOU. sorry i took a bit of a creative liberty with "soft spot" but i felt this was a little more in character with yoru, especially an enemy agent!

tw for brief guns and violence! all weirdly romantic i swear! ]

• you meet during a mission, when you two are the only ones standing. the first impression he has of you is your smile, and the gun pressed into his head.

• he's seen so many enemies before, but somehow, yours is the only one he remembers. everyone else is faceless, nothing that lingered in his mind other than the anger and weakness they gave him - they don't begin to compare to you. just for a fleeting second, he thinks you're beautiful. and he smiles back, because you're just so damn contagious.

• the next time you two meet on the battleground, yoru's all bared teeth and vicious, and you're happy to oblige. the entire mission, you two only have eyes for each other and none of you make it out scratchless. you make sure to leave a deep black mark on his pretty, perfect face and he smashes your nose in until the red streaks don't wash away. he's had the chance more than once to kill you, but he doesn't. he doesn't know why he can't bring himself to pull the trigger before the two of you are reduced to rabid street dogs again, it's not like him - but he disregards it as rivalry, not romance.

• and since then, every mission begins with the same words. "that one's mine," before anyone can so much as look at you. everyone sees that certain glow in his eyes and there are no interruptions, but perhaps for a reason bigger than the mission.

• next few days, you're sent to gather intel on an operation in japan. stealth isn't your forte, but you can't object to all the luxuries you were promised. wandering the streets, fitting into your new persona, you think everything's going perfectly. and then you get yanked into an alleyway and slammed into a wall by a leather-clad hand that was far too familiar.

• you're struggling against him, a scream rising in your throat, but he covers your mouth and it leaves muffled. "now, now, no need to rush." you learn to hate how he sings his sweet little words, instinct demanding you ram your knee against him, punch him, do something, but his grasp is stealing the strength from your body. you looked into his hooded, amused eyes. "let's talk." he smirks, and the glow of victory looks far too good on him. you swallow down your anxiety, figuring you'll escape somehow- you'd overpowered him before, you could do it again.

• yoru loves an assertive, dominant person as much as he loves the kind that bows down to him. its like, his ideal type. no, i don't take questions or reccomendations, so when she snaps at him for calling her flower-girl, he can't help but call her that again and again until she's fuming. he loves messing with people as much as jett does, which is saying something.

• "didn't know you could be the same color as your hair, flower girl," he smirks, looking down his nose at her. he gets suplexed. he looks like a twig compared to her, so naturally this isn't difficult, and yoru is left in shambles on the floor. good riddance.

• she 100% gets him a bouquet of flowers and he doesn't know how to feel about it. "all fresh-picked, so you better enjoy 'em," she huffs as she strides away, not even sparing a second look to him when he flushes bright red. he damn near crushes the stems with his grip, but he shivers at the thought of what she'd do if she found her gift on the ground. so he begrudgingly takes it into his room, shoves the poor things into a vase and slams the door shut.

• he doesn't know how to take care of plants. are you crazy? he doesn't even know how much water these things need. and by some miracle, he keeps them alive, probably watching it for an entire day before he decides its okay to leave on its own. he doesn't know when he started caring so much about her opinion, but he does, and it's ticking him off. the flowers have nothing to do with it (they have everything to do with it), therefore don't deserve his wrath.

• (source: "skye that was... ehem. that was pretty good." skye thinks he's all talk. yoru doesn't humble himself, or so she knows him as, but those words are the most honest he could possibly muster.)

• "didn't know ya liked flowers," she teases him with his own words, punching his shoulder playfully and shoving a few hairs out of place, and the tips of his ears turn red. "how about i keep getting 'em for you?" she takes his flustered silence as a yes, and he swears to god she's doing this on purpose, but he looks at her grin that looks like the fucking sun and he can't tell anymore. "then, hows a rubber plant? good for beginners, keeps the air fresh, yeah?"

[ a/n: ahaha, ummm, uhh... i'm just gonna say i'm sorry for the wait anon, but i hope you enjoy this nonetheless! thanks for the request! i got so carried away writing this one i almost split it into two parts - say your prayers for all the text i cut out of here.. ]

• ok guys, it's about time for me to simp for omen again.... sigh....

• at first, things are rough. omen isn't exactly the most welcoming to people, especially strangers he's expected to share private space with. instead of closing the distance, he takes to what he does best and doesn't even look at you - he slips in and out in your shadow, and at first you'd think he doesn't even come back from missions. i like to think that you two didn't even have an introduction, you just opened the door to an empty space that looked more like solitary confinement than your new room. the silence was... unnerving.

• but on the bright side, you catch him eventually! he almost crushes your wrist when he feels the air move behind him, but your pained yelp has him letting go right away. he turns his body to look at you, like a machine, and you beam. he's blinking rapidly at the excited gesture, despite the less-than-favorable first impression. personally, i think it would be weirder if you weren't excited - i mean, this is your absolute cryptid of a roommate caught on camera.

• you take his hand, shake it with your smile that would've tasted like the sun, and introduce yourself. he was star-struck. someone that looked at him not as a monster, but another human. even in the softest, most gentle stares, he could see they knew he was different. their voices treated him like he was an animal and he'd come to accept they'd never change - before you, anyways. he finds himself being dragged along, like a cat by the scruff.

• eventually, he starts lurking around more, and you're delighted to actually see him in the room one day. "omen!" you cheer, running over to him, but cautious not to invade his space. "welcome home!" a light blue glow comes to his face, but you're not really sure what it means. you find yourself leaning on the edge of his bed next to him, and most would say talking to an omen is like talking to a wall, but you know he listens.

• you come home to headquarters one day, and you come to an empty room, a gray scarf nestled on your nightstand with a note between the cloth. a simple "thank you" is scrawled onto the paper, melting away into gibberish at the end like it was rushed, but you still melt at the sight. you cherish that scarf with your life, because that thing is the labor of your forlorn love and you accept it graciously. you wear it everyday, but don't tell where you got such high-quality clothing from. no words are exchanged, but you give omen cups of tea and new, hundred dollar yarn and the little chain of gifts continues.

[ a/n: same anon, but actually you're my king AND my queen. thanks for the request, hope you enjoy! also, sorry for the length but no keep-reading, i have no idea how to do that on mobile :') ]

skye with shapeshifting female!reader

• who doesn't trust a cat? skye. skye wonders why she can't feel a connection with this random dingy cat, like she can with every animal, and that's the very beginning of her suspicion. she watches you from afar because her bright, fire-red hair is the epitome of stealth, but y/n somehow notices her prowling around and she's convinced you're something else.

• she does everything to surprise you. uses her birds until you have them scorched into your retinas and her tasmanian tiger growls in some distorted, alien animal speech. everyone says, "holy fuck skye, lay off the cat!" and coddles you in their arms, but she knows better. she sees through your trickery, and she's giving it her all.

• every time she comes around, you purr smugly, and she pulls up her lip. "listen here you little shit, i know your secret, and so will everyone else," skye growls through her teeth, crossing her arms and getting in your face, and you gratefully accept the challenge with your chin up, like you're something higher than her.

• you just have a talent for pissing her off. with a shameless sneer, she lunges for you, causing you to sprawl across the table. you look into her eyes and realize, damn, she's serious this time - and all of a sudden, she's chasing you all around the lounge like an animal.

• eventually when she snags her arms around you, you let out a surprised squeak, not able to do much more than allow yourself to be whisked away - and before you know it, your fur turns into frazzled locks of hair and your eyes dilate into something much less feline. "there you are, girlie! i'm not crazy!" she exclaims victoriously, pumping her fist in the air, and you can't do anything but sputter breathlessly in response.

sova with shapeshifting female!reader

• not saying he's dense, but goddamn, he's dense. the first time he sees you in headquarters, he's not delighted - after all, felines and birds don't mix, but having some company never hurts for those gray, lonely early mornings. just like everyone else, he comes to adore you.

• every morning, you rub against his ankle and purr for his attention. "hello, little one," he hums back, voice still thick and groggy with sleep, but he sweeps you up anyways. he peppers little kisses to your head and carries you around the kitchen, stroking your fur while he prepares breakfast. you take every drop of affection you can get, and whenever you're really needy, you just push restlessly into his neck. everytime, he sighs fondly, and gives you all the attention you crave.

• he spoils you, but it isn't a bad thing he has a huge, bleeding heart. after those little domestic mornings, you come to be really fond of him inside and out, though he doesn't know about your own secrets. so after a long mission, you naturally crawl back to him lounging on the couch and he cuddles you all the same, wondering aloud where you'd gone. and, just for a moment, you let go, sleeping tight in his arms.

• ...and when you wake up, he's looking at you with wide, curious blue and brown eyes, and you mumble your good mornings, wondering what has him all bug-eyed. you tighten your hands around his body, pushing your face further into his warm chest, your hair annoying your nose- wait. nose? hands?

[ a/n: -takes the twenty and slides back a hundred- sure do, my good friend. thanks for requesting anon, i hope you enjoy! ]

• "rest now. i will keep watch" spews mom friend energy and that's just facts. you cant disagree because it's true. he just says it so... soft, like he really cares. and he does!

• whenever he attends the designated drinking night, omen is typically one of the only sober by the end of it. those nights, he's a therapist and the only one who can think straight - he's only brave enough to step over his boundaries when he knows no one will remember the day after. his responses to their laments are nothing but stoic, but he's listening, playing idly with the edges of the tab. jett cries about when times used to be simpler, and he nods along. raze is homesick, and he offers for her to paint his room - her artistic talent is none to doubt, even when drunk to high heavens. phoenix has regrets he won't share, but omen doesn't pry.

• contrary to appearances, omen really does care about everyone. he makes sure everyone is listened to and guides them back to their rooms when they can't walk straight, or stops them from killing their liver with dollar store vodka. most younger agents know this personally, though such memories are usually lost to a drunken haze.

• yoru pops open a pack of cigarettes, but omen snatches them and yoru is shocked and wide-eyed. "no," omen says, simply, tucking the pack away somewhere as he turns his heel and walks away. jett and phoenix are losing their goddamn minds while yoru struggles to comprehend what just happened, his hair standing on end from this kinda omen. the guy was typically just tucked into the corner of a room, summoning shadows of his own, sucking the color out of the area around him - and that guy just snatched his cigarettes. and looked him in the eye while doing it.

• after the shock dissipates, yoru is chasing after and barking for some money in exchange. "you can't just take my shit, omen!" he growls, hands balled into fists at his sides, but omen crosses his arms with disappointed eyes and he's suddenly off sulking in the distance. dude has yoru trained like a dog with none of the effort.

hey anon! it has been a while and god, i'm not gonna say i'm back because we all know how that goes :') this place has been collecting cobwebs, seriously..

as for me, i just went through the worst bad streak in my entire life, which yall can probably tell from the disproportionate hiatus. a lot of things happened but this is post-armageddon and things are better now! thank you for checking in anon, ur so sweet ;;

SO! Can I requestest headcanons of Yoru and/or Phoenix helping a male reader cope with a radianite exposure? Powers caused are to your choice :)

[a/n: AND WE'RE BACK!!!! unannounced hiatus once again, but i feel like if i try and make excuses for it for the umpteenth time, i will implode from shame. so sorry for radio silence, but i do hope you enjoy regardless.]

[ yoru helping a male reader cope with radianite exposure ]

• first of all, radiant powers! i'm assuming by radianite exposure, you mean them becoming a radiant, but if i'm wrong feel free to correct me. i'm thinking he would have something immensely catastrophic, difficult to control, almost like calling forth a natural disaster. i chose this because of the maximum chance for angst, and the massive consequences for not being able to control it. perfect for this scenario!

• the world seems to crack and crumble in your very hands, the sickening scent of blood all around you, the glassy eyes of corpses, the liquid that stains your hands red - disaster unfolds around you. something the world has never seen, unpredictable and deadly, unknown and dangerous, but you know exactly what is causing it. you. this is your fault, and yours alone, no matter how loudly you screamed for it to stop.

• like sand slipping through your hands, the ground around your feet is breaking - but not once did it ever hurt you. a bitter sense of safety surrounded you, one that was disgusting in a way you couldn't describe. a pleading, desperate look fills your eyes as you turn to the agents. your precious colleagues that had followed you through the years, carefully selected to accompany you, and -

• that look in their eyes. oh, how could you have forgotten? tears fall against the bloodied floor beneath you. that was what you were, and would always be from now on. a monster. nothing but a-

• "y/n." who was it? the sound around you had crumbled into white noise, but you could still see a smear of blue with tear-ridden eyes. your hands trembled so intensely, but gloves held you regardless of the crimson shades. "y/n. look at me." and just like that, his voice became pristine against the noise flooding your ears, a tender thumb brushing the tear from your eyes. had you ever seen him look like that before?

• "it's okay, y/n." you didn't know how desperately you needed to hear those words until now. his fearless embrace without a second of reluctance, his regretful brown eyes - it was all a fleeting moment of weakness, one that yoru had never shown. given to such a monstrous, undeserving being like you . . . you simply melted into his arms, everything hushing into silence, back to the way everything was supposed to be - save for the quiet, broken sobs.