Oooo I got an interesting one! A Deimos x Reader where the Reader went missing for a while, and Deimos found them as a Zed. Angst and/or Fluff, the choice is yours!
Oooo~ I love me some angst! Leave it to me anon! ~Mod Deimos
(h/l) - hair length
(h/c) - hair color
(e/c) - eye color
Love is Beyond Death - Deimos x Zed! Reader
"I promise Dei, I'll be fine."
"You know I get worried about ya' toots..Nexus City is dangerous and...I don't wanna have to see you come back as a corpse.."
"I've been scouring Nexus City for years..that's how I found you and the others didn't I?"
"You worry too much. I'll be back before you know it!"
It's been 4 weeks since y/n had left, no sign of her returning. Deimos' anxiety kept getting worse, barely eating and shut off in his room.
Sanford was concerned, he wasn't just gonna let his best friend suffer by himself. He knocked on his bedroom door.
"Bud? You in there?"
Silence...the door opened a crack, letting Sanford see Deimos' tired, tear-streaked eyes.
"Can I...come in? I just want to talk.."
Deimos stepped aside, letting Sanford into his room.
"What do you want San..?"
"It's y/n...isn't it?"
Deimos fell silent, it was y/n...he kept himself in his room hoping for a sign that y/n would come back.
"It's been 4 weeks...I miss her so much.."
He held a small snowglobe in his hands, she made it for his birthday. It held so much meaning to him that he couldn't let go of it.
"...We're going to Nexus City..we're going to find her."
"If she's still out there, we have to help her"
Deimos, with a newfound burst of energy, stood up immediately and packed a bag full of numerous things, grabbed his guns and headed toward the front door of the base.
"Woah, wait up bud!"
Sanford ran after him with his hook in hand but Deimos was already too far away, he stopped himself and went back inside the base.
Deimos couldn't stop running, going in through a hidden tunnel into the city he began to search for her.
"y/n?! Where are you?!"
A soft groan echoed through the area, he followed the repeating sound eventually coming to an alleyway. He shone his flashlight down to reveal a familiar shape. The (h/l) (h/c) hair...that outfit that he helped pick out for her...
"y/n? Is that you?"
Upon the sudden noise, the figure turned to face Deimos. He froze up, all the hope he had shattered...the torn-up, green skin and cold faded (e/c) eyes...she was a Zed now..those zombie bastards got to her first..
She got up from her meal, the viciously eaten corpse flopping onto the ground. Slowly limping towards Deimos with a violent growl.
"y/n! Stop! It's me, Deimos!"
She slowed to a halt. Staring at him with a somewhat curious expression, a soft moan sounded from her as she gazed at his distressed expression.
"Toots...it's me....do you remember me..?"
It took a minute or two, but she remembered him, stepping away from him with a shriek.
"y/n...it's okay..don't be afraid.."
She snapped at him hoping to deter him away from her but he kept coming toward her.
"No...I'm not leaving you..not this time. We'll get you back to the base and get ya to Doc, he'll help ya"
He slowly pulled her into a gentle hug, not wanting to let go after having her missing for so long, just wanting to comfort her through this dark time.
"I was worried y/n...those 4 weeks spent without you were the worst...that and Sanford got my energy and hope up to come find you.."
She was silent for a bit, trying to remember bits and pieces of her memory.
"Yeah...they're fine..base felt...empty..even Doc was quite sluggish without you there.."
"Oh honeycakes...I thought you'd never ask..~"
Carefully helping her up, they slowly traveled back to the Anti-AAHW base, Sanford greeted them at the door.
"It's really you y/n...come on, we'll get you to Doc.."
As they walked through to get to Doc's office, y/n's raspy breathing caught Hank's attention, immediately thinking a Zed threat was in the base, he sprinted toward the noise with his Dragonblade in hand and promptly sliced y/n's entire right arm off. With a screech, her Zed instinct kicked in as she pounced on him, looking to take a sizable chunk out of Hank.
She halted, looking towards Deimos seeing both his and Sanford's frightened expression at how aggressive she suddenly became. She shook her head and regained cognitive thought, stepping off of Hank and grabbing her severed arm.
"Hey, don't worry about it...it's just an instinct from reacting to pain."
Deimos rubbed her back gently, leading her into Doc's office, said doctor quite stunned at y/n's condition.
"y/n? You...got infected?"
She looked away in shame, her head hanging low.
Doc looked her over, coming up with a long term treatment for her.
"Well...I'll have to keep her in my office so I can keep monitoring her..."
He started listing off a bunch of things to help with her treatment, y/n just sat in a nearby chair, still holding the arm she lost. Deimos noticing cleared his throat to get the doctor's attention.
"Uh...sorry to interrupt, but...Hank kinda..sliced her arm off.."
"Ah, no worries, I can put it back on. In the meantime Deimos, could you set up the treatment room for y/n? She's going to be staying there for a bit and I don't want anything else on her getting more infected that it should.."
"Gotcha, I'll be quick about it!"
Doc nodded, quickly getting to work on reattaching y/n's arm.
It's been a few months since y/n came back to the base, she was looking far better than she did before. Doc managed to replace most of the rotted organs with fresh ones, putting fresh blood into her system and jumpstart her new heart into functioning which in turn revived her. She still had green skin but it was slowly fading into her usual skin color and her eyes had regained their regular gloss and color.
She had finally gotten proper meals after weeks of getting her off eating stray agents from the streets.
Slowly returning to who she once was, Deimos had spent almost all of his time with her when he wasn't on missions. Sharing old memories with her and doing the things she'd love doing.
"Thank you...for being there for me babe..."
"Of course honeycakes...I couldn't just leave you in that alleyway, I knew I had to help you...and look where you are now! Healthy and happy as ever!
She smiled, relishing the moment with him. She gingerly kissed him, making up for a lot of missed cuddle sessions.
"I love you Dei..."
"And I love you..y/n..."
I decided happy ending! I hope you all enjoyed this! ~Mod Deimos
Hank J. Wimbleton SFW Headcanons!
- Around 6'11
- He's mute, And only talks in Nevadan sign language. He sometimes speaks small things though,
If it really is important or just- if he feels like it.
- Really loves cats!!
- His goggles glow in the dark, it always looks terrifying especially if someone catches him getting a midnight snack.
- The type of dude who would probably drink ketchup and confuse everyone.
- Demisexual Nonbinary, He/They
- His personality is strict yet caring at the same time. They would probably feel a ton of guilt if anything happened to anyone he cares about.
- How and why is this man nearly immortal?? He came to 2b, holding their decapitated head asking to be healed quite a few times.
- Favorite food is probably really spicy Doritos, this dude loves having snacks during gaming.
- He can play bass guitar very well.
- He purrs!!
- Clothes sharing 100%, He loves seeing you with things such as his coat on.
- Make fun of his s/o? You are good as dead.
- PDA is probably a no for them, He feels if he loves in public it will make others think of him as weak.
- As I said about how he can play bass guitar. They would love to duet with you if you know how to play anything, just doesn't know how to ask.
- Yandere? No, I would not say that but, if you do happen to get hurt he will become a load more protective.
“whistle on the waves”
synopsis: you were busy distracting yourself from the promise of the gallows when a familiar voice comes through the radio. the catch is, you only remember the voice from a few lifetimes ago.
word count: 892
characters: reality shifting! reader, unnamed guard
trigger warnings: guns, flashback to a plane crash, reader breaking the rules of reality just to be cute, drug mention in the notes
notes: wrote this to distract myself from nicotine withdrawals bc i’m visiting my friends in a state where the legal age for vaping is twenty-one :( but my friend’s cats are cute so who’s really winning here (spoiler alert: my nic addiction)
It’s almost embarrassing with the amount of deaths you’ve seen, experienced, and caused, but dying still scared you. You did everything you could to keep your mind off the imminent death the Auditor had promised you. You couldn’t sleep, so you made your bed, unmade your bed, analyzed all the cracks in the concrete walls, picked more cracks into the concrete walls, and laid on the floor and sang until your throat was raw. That wouldn’t stop you from talking, though.
The door opening and closing caught your attention. If you had to guess, the guards were on hour-long shifts, and this was your fifth of the night.
“New guard,” you groaned, rolling over on the ground to see them. “New guard!”
They finished locking the door behind them and turned to you, scrutinizing you through the plexiglass. Their rifle was slung across their back but they made no move to ready it, instead busying themselves with a handheld radio.
“I’ve got a new guard, I’ve got a new guard,” you chanted. “Hope they don’t mind I’m a bard, don’t mind I’m a bard, bard, bard-bard-bard-bard… I’m a… bard… yeah…”
You trailed off and stared at the ceiling, listening to the sharp whine of the radio. The piercing sound reminded you of lots of things, but it mostly reminded you of a shortwave radio you had relied on a few lifetimes before.
You didn’t remember much of the crash as the airplane descended into the Mid-Atlantic ocean. It was just burning limbs, burning lungs, burning eyes, burning skin. Fire settled on the surface of the water as oil spilled out of the tank.
The lighthouse was your saving grace. The tall, golden French doors were open, as if they were waiting for you. When you entered, you were met by a gigantic bust of a man you’d soon learn was named Andrew Ryan affixed to the ceiling, glaring down at those who entered. A red banner beneath him read: “NO GODS OR KINGS. ONLY MAN.” in gold lettering.
As if on instinct, you climbed down the stairs and into a bathysphere, a vehicle designed to be piloted underwater and to withstand the fathoms of pressure that came with the environment. It guided you into a city completely free of any parasitic government control: Rapture.
The shortwave radio inside the bathysphere picked up on a man with an Irish accent talking with another man before addressing you. “I don’t know how you survived that plane crash, but I’ve never been one to question Providence. I’m Atlas, and I aim to keep you alive.”
The guard yelped and nearly dropped the radio when Atlas’ voice came through. You shot up, grabbing the metal bars of the window. “Atlas?”
“That’s my name, boyo,” he said. “I thought we were headed to higher ground?”
“I can’t, Atlas.” you gripped the bars harder. “I’m jailed.”
“Popped off a few shots on the wrong ones, did you? Christ. Who do you think you are, Annie Oakley?” his sigh crackled through the radio. “I’m sending something through the pneumo tube. Should help you get out easy enough.”
Before you could tell him that there weren’t any pneumo tubes to send anything through, the guard killed the radio. “What the hell was that?”
“It’s Atlas,” you said. “He was – I was in the bathysphere – and the radio, and the Splicer that crawled on the ceiling – turn it on again! Turn the radio on!”
The guard looked around in disbelief. “I’m… this is above my pay grade. I’m gonna get my manager.”
They collected the radio and cast one suspicious, scowling look over their shoulder before leaving the room. You almost screamed in frustration.
Instead, you chose to pace around your cell, thinking up plans and growling at the ones that wouldn’t work. You desperately needed something, anything, to get you out.
The sound of something metal clattering within a tube shocked you out of your state of concentration. A hole opened at the bottom of one of the concrete walls, and a Webley Mk VI revolver with a few extra rounds shot out.
They both skidded to a stop before your feet. You pocketed the extra rounds and picked up the revolver with shaky hands. The gun was rusty and had ugly water stains, but the feeling of the chipped hammer underneath your thumb was comforting and familiar. You breathed out a sigh, smiled, and shot the plexiglass.
A shock of pleasant surprise ran through you when it cracked in a spiderweb-y fashion. Some of the glass nearest the impact point shattered and fell out. With the barest amount of caution, you kicked an entryway into existence with your shoe.
You crawled through, maneuvering your body over the broken glass, and stood on the other side. Looking back on your cell, you felt a twist in your chest. You had to rely on Atlas to get you out. You were eternally grateful, sure, but it seemed to be a running theme of relying on others in every lifetime you experienced.
You didn’t want to feel that heavy weight of debt anymore.
With a quick squeeze of the trigger, you shot lock and doorknob off with one bullet. You rammed the door with your shoulder and tumbled out into the hallway. Looking back and forth, you chose a direction and ran.