#Little Miss Laser

[meli-writes]

Little Miss Laser - Ch. 01

/// CW: attempted kidnapping within superhero kayfabe, kink and sexual references, mentions of transphobia and sanism. ///

Milly tried really hard to hold herself still. Her small-fry villain persona — Before you laugh, I'm still workshopping it, okay — calling for hand-me-down biker leathers that squeaked like hell, not helped by her then lacing it with ten different types of anti-super materials.

And there she was, slipping through Milly’s overly-obvious busted wall, right into her trap.

Oh— God. Is it okay to use that word? Because she’s— Oh fuck, her thighs have totally gotten bigger again.

Milly tried pushing her thoughts to the side, the ones about how the padded-rubber super-uniform hugged her heroic guest’s ass, about how she could probably justify petting those fluffy, brown curls later as an act of reassuring her soon-to-be hostage.

That wouldn’t be too much, right? Villainously-creepy but not actually-creepy.

She trod, unawares, onto a tiny fleck of electrical tape — that was far enough. Milly grabbed her helmet, flicked cropped-and-bleached hair over her head, and hastily clasped its front and back halves to her face, magnet-locking together with a click.

She pulled herself together, then around the corner, and then let Biker Hood step out.

“Love to see the punctuality, Little Miss Laser. You always are such a good girl for me.” Milly got the briefest glimpse of a blush before— Dvooom.

Searing, white light brushed over the helmet, and while she blinked instinctively, a few layers of UV-filtering had entirely dissipated the damage. Biker Hood held her posture while Milly was secretly screaming success in her head, it had worked.

It hadn’t been that hard to figure out — it was silly no one had seemed to try it before. It was nearly all of what Laser ever did, quietly dishing out photokeratitis — read: absolutely ruining your eyesight for weeks — from the rear while her teammates handled the real work.

That is if you even registered as bad enough to warrant multiple Little Misses, or just any other than Laser. Which was definitely never gonna be Biker Hood, but Milly was gonna change that all today.

Occasionally Laser would spit out enough energy to bust a lock or cut a teammate’s bonds, but that always exhausted her. Wiped her out, really. Her shoulders slouching down in this sweet little show of weakness. Fearful eyes checking if someone will spot it and catch you out Doll, fuck.

Step One of the Becoming-A-Major-League-Villain Plan just meant baiting out those blasts, wearing her down for Step Two. To that end, Biker Hood made a merry, mocking show of reeling her head back, “Ow, I think that almost hurt. Not in the mood today, Doll?”

She totally hated Doll — but wasn’t showing it. Just her cloying disapproval of Biker Hood’s as-of-yet undetermined nefariousness. “Where’s the factory workers, Hood. If you’ve done anything to them—”

Milly laughed. She really think I could be that dangerous? Wrong, but cool.

“Look around you, Little Miss. Dumb doll like you wasn’t even born when this place got shut down.” She tried to casually slip a hand into her jacket, fingers grasping for the matte plastic controller she��d stashed in there.

Dvooom. Left. Dvooom. Right. Dvooom. Left. Step One, in-progress.

The opening volley was predictable, Hood catching heat on her left shoulder. She could maybe have played into the ‘missing workers’ thing, if Laser really was that gullible, but it introduced a bunch of risks Milly hadn’t planned for. The goal was to annoy, not escalate.

The Little Miss was beginning to wear herself down. Getting a touch desperate for me, Doll? Biker Hood pulled her hand out, and flicked up the lid on an otherwise unassuming bit of kit. Laser’s eyes flashed, she knew what it was. And it was too late.

“Today it’s just you—” Click. “—and me.” Boom.

Laser dove forward — that’s right, get to the second mark, three seconds — bricks clattering behind her, blocking the only way out. Two seconds. Milly still made sure she’d be clear at the first mark, plan didn’t call for dropping building on her. One second. Just her Step Two.

Dvoom. Dvoom. Dvoom. Dvoom. Thonk.

Rainbows erupted out of Laser’s paws in a panic — fruitlessly trying to forestall the metallic crash of Biker Hood’s Doll-Suppressant Metal-Net Drop-Trap, pinning her to the ground. Even woven to a flexible mesh, it was damned heavy. But that wasn’t the point.

“What do you think, Doll? Took three weeks of stripping this building bare of old wires to make that. Copper, your totally-not-secret weakness.” The Little Miss’s gorgeous little wriggles gave out suddenly at that. Obviously because she knows it’s not worth trying.

Honestly, Milly had no idea how Laser even qualified for the Little Misses. The others were, as far as she was concerned, monsters. Inferno could melt through the depleted uranium of tank armour, Tremor had collapsed a villain’s lair on them before, Cyclone had literally cancelled out a tropical storm. Glacier — well actually, Glacier seemed chill.

Not a weakness between them — unless you counted Laser’s own or cruelly counted her as the weakness. They never cared about anyone like Biker Hood, who spent her time robbing betting parlours and dodging balls of mutant spit from guys in frog outfits.

She was so far beneath the pay-grade of a Little Miss she may as well be living in a pre-monetary society. Except Laser, putting herself in harm’s way, in Biker Hood’s way. Out to prove something by mopping up the city’s most loser villains. But, always failing on her.

Good, that was Milly’s in. No-one would be expecting it, someone like her capturing the cutest, sweetest, gentlest Little Miss. Putting her on camera in oversized copper chains, maybe break the innocent thing with a kiss. Just on the cheek, obviously, nothing more.

Just enough threat to force a massive sum be sent to Milly’s untraceable Panamanian bank account — The hedge-fund assholes all have one, or nine, why can’t I? — and to get her noticed as a proper, major-leagues villain.

Milly was in her own head about it, but Biker Hood had to crash the party for Step Three. Surrender. Laser had moved on from blasting wildly wherever her hands could wiggle to, and was now fumbling at her bracelet, squeaking out a cry for help.

Biker Hood moved to stand over her, chuckling to herself.

“Fern? Glass? It’s Laz. Please I—” It was sweet, scared birdsong.

She pressed her boot against it, giving Laser an earful of the sickening leather squish.

“I told you it was just us. Figured out the frequency a while ago, when you left one of your little bangles behind.” By left she meant desperately clawing on to Laser’s wrist when she tried to run, getting flashed, and being left there half-blind, communicator in hand.

Hood crouched down, tilting her head back for a maximally-dismissive downward glare. She lifted the net over Laser’s head, grasping her chin and pulling her close.

There was a new sort of fear in her eyes, a much more serious one. It worried Milly, Laser was finally getting that today would be different, but she had to make sure not to escalate.

“You’re going to listen to me very closely. That’s what gets you out of this safe, Doll.”

Laser’s eyes clicked with a sudden fury. Milly should have practised this step more.

DWAAAM.

---

She reeled back for real this time, bashing her head against a steel pillar and sending the helmet sprawling in pieces. And when her vision had stopped spinning she realised Laser had just melted through half the damn faceplate.

If she’d held on for just another moment my head would be—

Milly looked up, lingering plasticated fumes sending tears streaking through her eyeshadow. But there was a bigger problem than one near-miss. Laser had pulled herself up, glowing hands just sloughing the net off of her. Staring like a doll that didn’t want to be played with anymore. And Milly was now guessing that one blast wasn’t just a last-chancing trick.

Dvooom. Dvooom. Dvooom.

She rushed behind the pillar, grabbing the copper-plated baseball bat from Step Oh Fuck and tried to squeeze all her terror into it. Biker Hood wasn’t gonna cut it here.

She rounded back, bounded several paces, and— DVAM.

She was lucky she’d led with the bat. Unblinking her eyes, Milly quickly dropped the thing as it slagged off into two big pieces, dripping out a hundred smaller ones from melting metal wounds. Too close, again. But the same was true for Laser, who hadn’t been backing up.

Sorry, Doll. Thwack.

---

She decked the fuck out of her. Relieved the heat-proof bitch wasn’t also fist-proof, cringing though as she rapidly began to tumble and— Oh shit, she’s gonna fall on concrete.

Milly swerved her arms out, catching her but getting pulled down along with. Damn Doll, how much does your fucking ass weigh. But there wasn’t a moment to recalibrate to what the fuck Laser had just tried — straight to Step Four.

Pivoting her over she quickly shoved Laser’s hands into a linked pair of giant cylinders. Anti-Super Cuffs. It should shut her down regardless, but the internals were electroplated just to be sure. Which Milly maybe wasn’t quite so sure about anymore.

She flipped Laser back over, head lolling to and fro. Was this the cuffs? She hadn’t actually hit her that hard, right? Fuck, wake the hell up, please. Being unconscious — even for a few minutes — was bad news. Doll was supposed to be an affectation, not an aphorism.

“Hey— Laser?” Finally, a little squeak came out, Milly clutching the Little Miss into her arms.

Quickly she packed herself away, trying to front what was left of Hood. Whatever step she was on, it was time to seal the deal. “Ha! That net may have been impure, but you have no chance against my Pure Copper Super Bindings.”

“Oh god, Hood, I can’t—” She was squirming at the cuffs. God, please be working.

“There, safe in my grasp at last.” A little of Milly came out trying to emphasise that point, maybe some of the wrong part. “No hiding just how pathetic you really are.”

“I know, I know,” the Little Miss muttered. Milly had Laser’s gaze, other senses locking on as they flickered back to life, binding to her. “Worthless, useless without the team. Just trash they’re being forced to hold on to.”

Ugh, okay? Talk about turnaround, Doll. Maybe she was spoiling her too strongly — Milly wanted her to surrender, not have a breakdown.

“Woah, hey now. You are not worthless.”

“But— But you just said I was—” Pathetic. There were tears now, streaming from twinkling grey eyes, spilling over her mask. Breakdown it was, shit.

“I know, which you are. But that’s like— hot?” She tried looking away but Laser’s eyes were burrowing into her, hurting more than any blasts ever did. “You put on this face, and try to beat me, but never can and—”

Milly shoved Laser out of her arms and onto the floor.

“Fuck. No. Just go. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Wha— wha—” Laser trembled in surprise, twisting around to face her. “Do what anymore?”

“Well, the plan— plan was to capture you with the drop, tie you up, drag you somewhere safe for ransom. And then start breaking you mentally and stuff. But, like, slowly?”

Laser didn’t say a thing, just staring as Milly’s face buckled like a sinking ship. She was gonna make Milly finish — forcing her with those perfect, sobbing eyes.

“Okay, look. It’s a stupid idea, was a stupid idea. Fuck, what was I thinking.”

More agonised moments dragged by, like peeling sunburnt skin — compliments of the Little Miss — off her back. But, just as she was ready to dig deeper, Laser did it for her.

“You wanted to do it— slowly?” There were less tears now.

“Ugh, yeah.” Why the fuck are you following this line of questioning. “Like, pay attention to your needs and limits and stuff. I mean, obviously, kidnapping pushes some boundaries, but I’d make sure I wasn’t hurting you too bad. Threatening and—” Shut up. “—sexy, but like—” Oh my god, please shut up. “—not violating?” Milly you’re so dumb.

“Oh. Oh I—” Laser was blushing again. At the sweetness, right? Not the— Maybe she didn’t hate her.

“Look, Miss Laser—” Getting up to walk over to the wall.

“—it was a monstrous idea, okay. Realising that a lot in hindsight. But I’m way off it now.” Thumbing buttons on electrical gear hoisted there. “No more jammer, so like, call or go for help before your friends figure something's up and I gotta hold you hostage.”

“Yeah— Of course— Sorry.”

Why was she apologising for this—

DWAAM.

“Wait, WHAT. Could you—” The binders clattered to the floor, one of them sprawling down a loading ramp with an aching screech. Another thing cut through like it was nothing.

“Oh, kinda yeah? But like, you were in my head and stuff. So I forgot.” She said it like she’d forgotten to buy more sugar, not—

“Shouldn’t that have exhausted you by now. And your weakness!?”

Laser sighed, annoyed but sympathetic to her oafish, would-be kidnapper. “Copper? Come on, Hood, that’s super fake. What other Little Miss even has a weakness.”

Milly was searching for a comeback, and not finding one. “So, could you just do this the whole time? Not just today, but like—” she flailed her hands around wildly.

Guilty and puppied-up eyes answered her. “Yeah.”

“Was I ever actually in control there or— No, how come people don’t realise this?”

“They do.” It was utterly matter-of-fact, she’d answered this before. “Try searching ‘little miss laser truth’ or ‘little miss laser fake’.”

Milly pulled out her phone, rushing to key in the code before Laser could see the wallpaper. After a few more moments she had a video playing.

What’s up WHITE STATUE NATION. It’s your king AristotleOfAthens6572 here, a hard man out to save the West from—

“Skip, like, 60 seconds. It's always this kind of shit.” Laser knew exactly what was coming.

Today I’m uncovering for you the secret horror the woke media won’t tell you about Little Miss Laser, or should I say LITTLE DICK LASER. You see HE isn’t—

Milly paused. “Think I get it.”

“Yep. That er— preoccupation keeps them busy. Puts off anyone more serious.”

Laser grabbed one of Hood’s helmet fragments, effortlessly carving something in with the tip of her finger. “Hey um— sorry I got a little heated earlier. We could chat more about this another time? And like, if you still wanna break me outside of this then maybe—”

“Send me a message sometime?”

Okay, Milly got it now. Neither of them was in control. This girl was— Oh, she was out of her mind. She reached out to take the fragment, there was a phone number lasered into the surface, dimly visible black-on-black.

Summoning a foolish moment of confidence. “And here I thought my kidnapping idea was fun because you were Little Miss Innocent.” Laser looked a little brusqued up by that one.

“Still am— and will be.” Milly got the threat, Laser’s glowing hands were a useful clue, and she remembered her dangerous panicking earlier.

The glow faded.

“But like— outlets are good. I deal with— a lot of stress. That’s why I’ve always liked you.”

Hold on. She likes me?!

Before Milly could bluster an objection she was gone. A clean, round hole left in the steel shutters. There was evidence to clear up, and valuable gear to bug-out with, but first— Milly was saving that number, muttering to herself what the fuck is going on.

---

Milly sat down at the breakfast bar — vest strap fallen off her shoulder, stubby ponytail missing half her hair — and nursed her third increasingly-caffeinated attempt to re-energise after the last six hours.

Was that their sixth meet-up, or the seventh? It was bleeding into fights too, that wasn’t helping. Laser had asked within five minutes every single time, though at least waited for Milly to start messaging first. She really wasn’t sure it was a good idea to say no now.

So Laser had turned up, looking at Milly messily stuffing week-old vegan pizza down her gob, and utterly unfazed by the butched-up mess had slipped off her trench coat to reveal a sexy, halloween knock-off of her own uniform.

It gets logged when I take the real thing out, and then I’d have to, like, file a report. Giggling at her own mischief while Milly gawked in horror at the suggestion on how to use it.

Laser did not stay over. She napped, and Milly never dared wake her up, but always dodged before it got too late. It’d be a report to file. Good thing, because Bri would have killed her.

Bri who was sitting across from her right now, a thorough contrast in appearances. Two-piece suit with hedge-fund-asshole tailoring and locs painstakingly straightened into what every HR department would call ‘workplace appropriate’ while insisting they took DEI very seriously.

She was ready for today’s job, and Milly was not.

“Milicent, you’ve been delaying this job for weeks. If it doesn’t happen today, it doesn’t happen at all!” She’d avoided telling Bri the reason for a while, failing to notice how the insatiable Little Miss had devoured her runway. “You have to explain what’s up with you.”

“I’m uh- I’m kinda seeing this girl?” Understatement of the fucking millennium, Milly.

Bri was too sharp for this. “Okay, that’s nice, but that shouldn’t knock you out like this.”

She was not going to get it. She was going to kill her. Bri was a lightweight, admittedly one of the best criminals in the city, but as far as superheroes were concerned — superheroes like the Little Misses — she wasn’t their problem. She was boring, competent, white-collar about it. And she tolerated Biker Hood so long as it kept Milly focused and useful.

She did not get the supervillain thing. It was profoundly anti-thetical to her goal of make money and bug the fuck out to Australia or Austria or wherever’s nice and far away.

“So you know that Little Miss I encounter a lot — Laser?”

Milly cringed, she could audibly hear dots snapping into alignment in an instant, that and the thundering of Bri’s eyes rolling into the back of her skull and then out onto the floor.

“I may have been working on a plan to kidnap her, and it sort of turned into— an arrangement?”

---

The first time they met in an alley, Laser pretending to be lost while Milly was there to predate on her. Strappy dress showing off her shoulders, Laser pinching her fingers together, awkwardly trying to pull-in and hide the breadth of them. Mostly, it served to push her trembling tits together, made Milly want to eat them.

“Go on then— fucking do it you bitch.” That's right, give me that last bit of will, Doll.

Milly had grabbed her by the throat, pushed her against the wall. Laser being tougher than a baseline person gave her plenty of room to be mean.

“Oh— God— Okay— Wait!” Sputtering out panicked begs, none of them safewords. Phew.

“What is it, Doll? Can’t take it already?”

“Look, maybe we could— talk about this? Maybe I just open my mouth too much.”

That was bait. Milly could look in her eyes and see just how badly she wanted it. Milly just had to find the right reply, it’s not like she had a script. She would a few times later.

“You do, don’t you? Don’t worry — I know how to make very good use of that.”

Afterwards, Milly was definitely the one who felt used. Staring vacantly at a motel wall-clock for three hours with only Laser’s contented little sleep-squeaks breaking the silence.

At one point, her arm unconsciously slipped on to Milly’s face, and it took all Milly's will not to scream out in startled shock. Just quietly muttering to herself — What the fuck is going on. What is wrong with this girl. Oh god I have to keep her happy.

When Laser woke up she had cheerfully got herself dressed, thanked Milly for the time, barely noticing she was only capable of smiling brokenly and muttering “Yep, sure!”, left some money for the room, and then just fucking left like it was the end of a coffee date.

---

“What— Do— You— Mean— You— Tried— Kidnapping— A Little Miss— And now she’s fucking you?!”

Milly was about three feet deep now, matching the inch-length of heels Bri was more than metaphorically stabbing through her ribcage while she paced around, dodging Milly's phone lost on the floor, wildly gesticulating face and hands in increasing disbelief. “I thought you were a top too!”

“I am! And she is fucking me. Absolute freak, okay, Little Miss Psycho.” That one felt cruel, cruel in a real way, not in a scene way. But justifying a fuck-up to Bri took work, and she could silently apologise to Laser about it later.

“She’s a Little Miss — why would you ever not think that!”

Oh, I’ve been thinking about it plenty.

Tits pressing against me when she sleeps. Outfit downplays the fuck out of them. They were way bigger than I thought was possible. That’s not transphobic is it? I don’t wanna be—

"Because she was the quiet one! Demure, ran support or handled low-leagues like me, only did press when she wanted to shout-out no-kill shelters in need of kitten fosterers.”

Bri stopped and stared at her for that, clearly signalling that was an oddly-specific flavour of defensiveness and it was a bad look. “You never pick on the quiet ones.”

“Yeah. And it turns out she’s functionally the most powerful Little Miss with maybe no actual limit on her abilities, and her weakness is fake—”

“Milly, anyone could have told you that was fake. Did you try—” Bri clicked herself on to pause, nearly bringing her hands together as if to pray for rescue from this clown-show-slash-nightmare, trying to refocus on the actual, foundational way Milly had fucked herself.

“And now you know that Milly! And now I god damn know that.”

“I think her real name is even—”

“Stop.”

She’d not given Milly a burner but instead her actual, personal number. Meaning she was either too naive to know how dangerous that was, or she knew and didn’t care because it wasn’t dangerous to her. Bri was definitely mouthing both in her head right now.

“Look, I know. I fucked up okay.”

Bri came back to sit at the bar, visibly evaluating the cold leftovers as an analogy for Milly.

She wasn’t satisfied — not even slightly — but she was in her fixing mode. At least still caring enough to try get her out of this, if Milly bothered to listen. “Okay, what the hell are you planning then? You have to get away from her.”

“Ugh, I know. But she is cute.”

“Milly!” Oh my god, you’re not listening to me are you? Bri thought. She would advise, but after this she was getting a new partner. Supervillain technical expertise or no.

“And she’s so into being my kind of freak, you know. This girl is into everything. Peril was just the start. Since then she’s asked for hypno, somno, and like every kind of pet play.”

Of course Milly knows what all of these are called, Bri now peeking at the half-assembled, homemade shock collar that pooled their car keys with a different eye.

“And like, she cries during scenes and if I stop to check-in she just smiles at me and says Yep. All good. Please continue! Bri, it’s so hot.”

“Milly, she’s gonna kill you in like a month, tops. And me too if you tell me anything else.”

“Nooo— Alright, fine, I’ll stop seeing her. Need a new phone though. And hideout.”

“YOU BROUGHT HER HERE.”

---

Milly was squatting in another abandoned factory, secretly tapping into the utilities of the hedge-fund-occupied redevelopment next door. Bri and her had plastered up a corner like it were a live-audience TV set, perfect for the sitcom present-Milly was experiencing, setting up enough scavenged and flat-pack furniture that it felt cosy. And private.

“No. No. No. We cannot recreate my attempt to kidnap you.” She was trying to keep a playful tone, but this felt absurd even for this girl. Standing there, thighs fully bared, cleavage added to the costume thanks to incredible artistic license from the underpaid designer. Bulge.

Not-a-chaser. I-can-find-it-hot-normally. If I’m only into girls and into this then it’s cos it’s hot as a girl thing. Dont-fuck-this-up-Milly. She will laser you.

“The fight scenes were cool, but— Fuck. I’m trying to move on from that Laz, cos you know if I’d really done it it’d be unforgivable.” Laser could clearly see how it was still worrying her.

Looking back over the couch, curls flopping with her, she tried to reassure in a way that still wasn’t letting up at the idea. “I think it’s okay— Hood, I woulda been alright.”

“You’re only saying this because you’re secretly Little Miss Lusting-For-Biker-Mommy.”

Laser just giggled. Yep. All good. Please continue! She was a mathematically-absolute masochist and had completely refused to accept any of Milly’s self-condemnations about it.

Please just let me feel like an asshole about this. Crashing her head into the channel-back.

“Yeah, but also because the moment I didn’t like it I could have just bisected you like a lunchbox sandwich. Make sure it’s not too hot, so like, your guts spill all over the floor—”

Milly had peeled her head up slowly, staring at her from only a few inches away.

What the hell is even wrong with you.

“See, I’m tough.”

Laser’s little smiles could feel a lot more sinister now. Milly tried convincing herself it was just Laser trying to prove a point. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m not really that cute, I just pretend about this stuff so people take it easy on me.”

Her eyes darted away a little, needing the visual space to dump what came next.

“Cos then, for the most part, I don’t get all the comments about resting-bitch-face, video essays about using my powers wrong, or like the death-slash-rape threats that Trem and Cyk are always getting.” God, even Milly could sympathise with a Little Miss for that.

Laser was starting to pull away, but before she could Milly nipped a kiss on her forehead, eliciting a delicious squeak that kept her in her place.

“I still think you’re cute.” And what the hell is wrong with me.

Laser liked that, didn’t want to agree with it, but liked it. “I know, but— freak.”

Milly nodded her forehead against Laser’s — totally trapped now, peering up nervously as Milly tried to reassure her in turn. “You can be weird and still cute. I prefer it.”

“Yeah but like—”

Struggling to find the words. Or struggling to contain too many of them.

“I know it keeps me safe but— I think I just wish people saw me being sweet and innocent as part of my strength, not something that spites it.”

She peered back into Milly’s eyes, crying for rarely unhorny reasons. “There’s no right way to be when you’re me. And like, everything that means and stuff.”

Milly thought she got it, but didn’t want to say that in case she was wrong and fucked it up. No, instead, she vaulted herself over the couch, errant boot accidentally trampling one of Laser’s feet, an elbow sent sprawling into her face.

“Ow, ha ha. Stop!”

Big, lesbian biker oaf was a role Milly could play, unintentionally or not, to perfection. Laser liked it a lot. “You know Doll, I think the world is really lucky you haven’t heel-turned. You would make an unstoppable villain.”

“I know,” she said, dishing out an actually trademarked grin. “Maybe you should try corrupting me into one?”

Milly glanced at her phone, before tossing it loosely on to the carpet.

“Six hours till my co-worker’s here. Let’s see what progress I can make, beloved captive.”

(Masterpost) / (Next)

originally written on cohost 16/11/2023, in response to Making-Up-Magical-Girls' prompt:

Magical Girl Who Has The Villain Right Where She Wants Them

and Making-Up-A-Villain's add-on prompt:

Villain who is in danger… of having a very good bad time

[illmoraineakoi]

I would like you all to consider how angry Victim would be if Chosen had accidentally destroyed the windmill during his chase scene in "Wanted".

[babykotek]

[fairly-odd-takes]

If the unthinkable happens and A New Wish gets a damn infection AU...who'd survive...

.

[claiborneart]

see you space Bugnarok~

[keeps-ache]

The OCs you posted recently look really cool- could you talk a bit about them? Maybe the antagonists as well?

!! oh thank you :D

suuure yea :>> it's a smaller, newer thing of mine so not a lot n some of it may change!! but here's some profiles lol,

✧ Tide (the square head; they/them) is some sort of creature thing who lives in a remnant of an old world that decayed a long time ago after finding themself trapped there (that changes after they meet the goddess). they're head over heels for the goddess that still remains in the corridors there and they're not very normal about it hbfhvs - they can't be killed by any regular shmegular means and i have fun with that loll

✧ Vernor (ponytail gal; she/her) i don't have a lot for her, but she ended up in the same place Tide did and is very upset about it, understandably. she's good a martial arts and cries easily, and is pretty suspicious of most strangers :) she has a small knife-thing that works like a witch's broom (you have to hold the little handle for dear life though lmao) but i haven't gotten around to drawing it so !

✧ Dire (red circle; he/him) was created by the aforementioned goddess to dump emotions/thoughts she didn't want into, and then just sent him on his way lmfvhsh - because of that he is confused most of the time and still pretends to know everything but is figuring things out for real lol :3👍he hates to change his clothing and is snappy, and the snappiness may get worse on personal proximity hbfshv

^ these three have a Thing goin on. mostly qpp cuz i think it's fun :33

✧ Sleepy (the antagonist, he/him) the elusive guy. elusive bc i haven't drawn him lmfsh - another budy trapped in this old chunk of a dead world, he is also upset about it but to a much more desperate extent lol - his name isn't actually Sleepy but Tide nicknamed him that when they first met and now he can't seem to shake it hfsh, he Does hate it :) he is violent but he can play nicies so he does that most time loll

✧ the goddess (only thing holding this world together, She/her/it (capitalization is optional :3)) has been here for ages, ages, ages. her world's been long dead but she just keeps living for the monotony of it hfsh; plus, it's like her job never ended if she just keeps doing the same regular things she always did. bc of that it's actually preserved her chunk of annihilation, and sucks other creatures in w/o her knowing. the chunk is like a maze that keeps changing shape, so unless you can see it from a god's eyes the place is iiiiiinfinite! and terrible; the place changes to her moods and wishes, which can be interpreted p strangely lol :3 she's talked to and kept Tide around bc she needed somebody to deal with all these weird people coming into her dang house, and it's worked out fairly well (dubious)! :D

the world-chunk is inspired by vaporwave, abandoned malls, and the distinct smell of chlorine my mother has sometimes loll :)

[arundolyn]

lets fucking

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[meli-writes]

House Bound

Precious Soul Ruby smouldered. Not in any way singed with sweetness but in the way that was singeing a circle of black ash around the conversation pit where she was presently and rather deliberately languishing. It thudded sparks into the air, arousing a terrible amusement in her every time it had to hastily trample them back down.

She giggled, traced her fingers over her cheeks and ran them between her lips. Then using them to delicately pluck another grape to play with, following Ruby all the while. At some point she’d drop one in her cleavage again. It wasn’t going to ask if she was wearing anything under the robe because the grape thing was bait and she’d tried it four times now.

Instead it only dared, occasionally, with considerable premeditation, to give her a scorching glare. Desperate to remind her that she was supposed to be the one stuck here, not it.

It wasn’t helping.

“Just tell me what your bloody plan is, already, Saf.” it demanded, because it knew she had one, because stealing leftover takeout from its fridge and acting like she still lived here — lived here with Ruby — was not a plan.

"You."

Ruby stopped in its tracks and annealed its better senses. Saffiyah wouldn’t let Ruby leave her alone, refusing to shower because — while it was supposed to at least be in the bathroom — it insisted, with burning cheeks, on her privacy.

But you’ve seen me so many times before, Deer. What if I short circuit the ankle monitor and escape? Don’t you want to be a good little minder — for me?

Instead she’d taken to teasing about how much it must’ve missed her ‘girlsmell’ leaving Ruby bristling hotly. “What do you mean, me?”

Saffiyah laid back over the pit’s rim, splaying into Ruby’s path.

“I think my plan,” slipping a shoulder out of her silk robe, “is you.”

Ruby realigned and hot-footed it to the breakfast bar, crumbling carpet on-route. It was what Saf insisted on, where Ruby knew it should have been vinyl.

Why had it ever, ever let itself listen to her?

“No, no, no. I do not think that’s going to be your plan.” The little alarm clock reassured it only had a few more hours of this, and then Saffiyah would never be its problem again.

Would never see her ever, ever again.

“Why? All your friends still say you like me.” All our friends, Saf. Ours. “Would anyone even know? They’ll assume it happened anyway, so why not just—”

The cut-off was cauterising. “No— Because you’re a bad guy now.”

Saf looked out the patio window, frowning, and pondered a bitter response. “Wow. Misgendering, and from you of all creatures.”

Ruby fumbled the clock out of its hands, sending it to the floor. Chilly words freezing it like it had been caught in headlights, gaze fixed to Saf, still staring back — faux-broken heart thumping in her eyes — knowing and caring it preferred that over people.

“Hey! No I don’t mean— Look, you’re a— bad… girl?” it bleated, swallowing the moment it had because—

“Ooh, I like the sound of that. Say it again.”

“No! I know what you’re doing,” it pouted — propping one hand on-hip and proffering the other in a foolishly accusative point. “You are a criminal — you broke the law! So until the trial for criminals like you, you will sit around and do nothing without me telling you to.”

Saf tumbled another grape in her mouth, calculated, and squelched it between her teeth with a provocative snap. “And what would you tell me to do?”

Its finger curled like roasted paper, before clutching it close to its chest. “If you actually would listen to me — for once, ever — maybe not blow up a factory?” And then twisted its split-toed boots towards each other, knowing it was a mistake to have this fight again.

“God, still such a cop. You know what the factory was making, right?”

Easy, the Police Chief’s address, don’t say that part, said it was— “Protective gear, okay?”

“Riot gear. You know, protective gear specifically for cops, like you.”

Smoke started pouring from its nostrils. Saffiyah rushed backwards as Ruby stormed forwards, falling against the table and splashing a half-empty wine glass on herself.

“I am not a cop! I don’t— I don’t fight riots. You know that, you—” It knew it wasn’t worth fighting about who it was, it was complicated and couldn’t win that. “You were one of us, Sapphire.”

“Amaye, I know you don’t.”

Broken Soul — or whatever edgy nonsense it was — Sapphire tried pulling herself back together. The wine chilled and crackled off of her, the carpet snapping as she tugged her fearfully frozen grasp free.

“You just— you protect the people who do. Keep the system steaming along.” The gem, buried irretrievably deep in her chest, hummed a gentle blue.

But Ruby’s still blazed, gleaming and frothing like a bonfire, resting on a chain at the tip of its sternum. “You watch a single fucking video essay and now THIS!” Its hair burst into flames, raging uncontrollably, smoke pooling across the ceiling.

A dulled alarm droned, vents spurred, and sprinklers doused the pair of them. Amaye’s hair settling as embers, and collapsing across its face, hiding the tears trickling down.

“You broke up with me, so why are you even trying? Why do you even fucking care.”

Saffiyah pulled herself up, stilling the rain around her, and then around them both, as she approached. You don’t understand how bad it really is. You won’t believe me.

“For someone who burns so hot, you’ve never been the brightest light — have you, Deer?” Even being sweet she had to be mean. “Obviously I wanted you to chase me, pursue me—”

“Join you.” Saf slid hands around its hips, close enough to hear the tears falling. “Except that I actually respected your boundaries, even while you betrayed me.”

It looked up from the brilliant blue, casting an outline of her ribs, to her eyes. “So why even try? You had to know you'd get caught.”

“Of course I did, and knew I’d end up here with you. Who else to watch me, who else would keep me bothered to stay under arrest?” She brushed the squidgy strands of hair away from its face, drew out the water so it could flutter again like its heart. “It must’ve been so stressful as of late, without me, so who else to get you to loosen up a little?”

The sprinklers shut off, Saffiyah letting the still droplets splash around them. Ruby glanced at the clock, she didn’t know there was just a couple hours left to go. Maybe the shower wasn’t a bad idea, the irony of Sapphire, the watery Magical Girl, not bathing was fragrantly and unpleasantly apparent. She should smell better when she gets carted off.

“We’re not talking about this.” it muttered sternly, eyeballing the bathroom door.

Saf’s eyes followed first, then her legs.

“Oh, but we will. You'll realise soon enough — you’re the one who’s really stuck here.”

---

Amaye shook its head and looked around blearily. Every surface had been soaked or scorched or both, plaster and glass sundered. Fuck the vinyls, it needed a new condo.

And then it shook its hands, and realised they were still cuffed, dangling from the ceiling with the ankle monitor wrapped around one of them. Its legs too, calves bound to thighs so it rested loosely on its knees, rocking to and fro.

Finally able to focus, it could see it dangling in front on a piece of bloody twine — the Ruby gem. If only it could reach, the lightest touch would give Amaye the spark to melt itself free. Amaye groaned, and began to shuffle wearily against the bindings towards it.

But then the alarm — case bursting out in blackened twists, clock window turned milky, roiling and whining in its death throes — let Amaye know it was time for Saf’s pickup.

And now it twisted against chains and silky ropes in panic, lurching forward only to fall backwards like a damned pendulum. If Emmy or Tope saw it like this, oh it was never gonna recover. That was Saf’s fucking plan. Amaye would have no choice but to see her again.

At the least, so it could pop her fucking head like microwaving an apple—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hold on! Be— Right— There—” it called out.

It pressed forward— and back— and forward— getting closer every time. It only needed a few more moments, just a few. It was so close. And Saf at least was courteous enough to dress it back up, and hopefully had drowned the security tapes too.

“It’s— just trouble— with the lock!” it blistered.

It could make this look like a fight, the room was ruined enough, like Saf had made her move and escaped, it was so close, it just had to—

Click.

It pushed forward one last desperate time, feeling the barest little brush and sparkle at her fingertips.

Precious Soul Emerald’s voice beamed through the opening crack, Topaz and Diamond audibly shuffling behind. “No worries, sweetie, I found my spare, I—”

It was so close.

---

(Masterpost)

originally written 20/12/2023, in response to Making-up-Magical-Girls' prompt:

Magical Enby Who Is Legally Obligated To Be Here, And Morally Obligated To Be Anywhere Else

[kunikisss]

mourning my leg hair rn. im so dysphoric i might die

[machiot]

🧃"Oh aren't you adorable! Have you met my little sister Elise? I think the two of you might enjoy shopping together..."

With her hair hiding one of her eyes (a look Marni also sports, mind you) and a circlet reminiscent of horns, the woman approaching Marni with a juice box in hand reminds her of a certain someone. Regardless, Marni is glad she holds back on the instinctive "whaddya want" that would have tumbled out of her mouth, because the first words out of the Camilla's mouth are praise for her.

Well, if it's gonna be like that...

"I'm super cute, right?" Marni preens, puffing out her chest. "Feel free to tell me more about how adorable I am!"

But alas, much to Marni's chagrin there is juice to be drunk and more conversation to be had than just talking about how cute she is. Unfortunately.

She shakes the juice to redistribute the contents inside. Come to think of it, she had just yelled a lot out on the field. She'd been so caught up in the indignity of the half-finished match that she hadn't realized how thirsty she was until the juice box was right in front of her face.

"Elise? Never heard of her. She look like you?"

[peppermintbutch]

ARLGSDBGKSJ. another 1am gender crisis

[chaosoftheages]

Bro wtf do you mean I turned Wanted into a 3k word chapter for an AU-

[tbob-enthusiast]

why are they like this why are they like this

This was supposed to be a goofy one off 3 panel comic not. Something with effort.

Many mistakes are about to be made

he does not remember a THING.

Also bonus of Robbie with bed hair and the shirt he passed out in

The shirt is based on my dad's RAGGEDY ASS mountain dew shirt he's had since I was born. It's so old he can't wear it anymore

Also messy hair robbie. The curls are threatening to return/silly

@tbob-enthusiast @jayxel1102 ehehhehe

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny Is A Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

(not in a necessarily bad way and it's by Clockwork's design)

Bats, or Constantine, or the JL, or whoever you want to be close to Danny in this prompt, don't notice it right away. It takes them a while to figure out its not purely coincidence. And even after they do figure it out, they still have their doubts.

The thing is, it doesn't work all the time. It also doesn't seem to have a system or a schedule to it, nor is it any kind of a superpower, as far as they can understand. By God, does Danny have way too many superpowers, but most of them are consistent, and yet this one... is weird. Weirder than anything they've seen before, and they've seen a lot, okay.

It also only works if Danny does it without thinking.

"You know what'd be perfect right now? A cheese sandwich," Danny says over the comms, in the middle of the fight with Dr. Freeze, "A warm, grilled cheese sandwich just out of the toas- Owch, what?" There's a pause. And then, "Guys, you're not gonna believe it, a cheese sandwich just smacked me in the face! I think someone threw it out of the window or something!" Danny sounds bewildered, but excited, and there's a sound of chewing from his comm now. At least he is eating, so that's good.

"I fucking hate robots," he grumbles the other day, punching his way through the Brainiac invasion in Metropolis, with no comm and only for the Supes to overhear, "No, correction, I hate only evil robots. The ones that interrupt my astronomy class. The ones that shoot motherfucking lasers and walk like crabs, and ruin a perfect day, and- I wish- aw, fuck, no, that's bad wording. Don't wish for shit. But if all these robots would just suddenly, miraculously malfunction and stop attacking me and the whole city, that would be, like, real nice of them."

A few minutes later, something goes wrong with the Brainiac's control over the army of robots, and all of them just stop moving and fall down at once. It is deemed as a chance, a lucky shot, a coincidence. Supes keeps quiet over what he heard Danny say.

"Oh, you bitch-ass fruitloop, you know what I want?" Danny yells at Plasmius, as the ghost is laughing like a madman, "I want a fucking brick to fall down right on your head, like, right now! Maybe that can set your brains straight for at least five minutes!" And even before he is finished talking, there's something falling down from the sky and hitting Plasmius's head. It's not a brick, to be exact, it's Miss Martian's shoe, though. She has no idea how it even came undone and fell from her foot. But it did somehow knock Plasmius out cold, so there's that.

It doesn't happen all the time. Red Robin does the math - the improbable accidents only happen in about 26% of the situations, given that Danny says something. It's by no means a reliable power. It also doesn't happen only during the fights: there were numerous times when Danny just said something like 'I wonder if the cafeteria serves garlic bread today' and sure enough, there's garlic bread there. Even if it was not on the menu. Ever.

They try to question Danny himself, but he has no idea. He doesn't even notice the coincidences most of the times - which is not surprising, knowing that they only happen in one out of four situations and Danny is known to have a short attention span. So, after a few unsuccessful investigations and failed attempts at calculating how this even works, they all give up. It has never jinxed anything, as far as they know, so everyone just leaves it be.

Danny is just magically lucky like that.

Meanwhile, Clockwork is having a good laugh about it. Danny's suggestions amuse him, and it's funny to watch the other superheroes having a mental breakdown over it, so he rigs the timeline from time to time. Just a little.

[meli-writes]

Little Miss Laser - Ch. 02

(Previous)

/// CW: hostage scene w/ electroplay, explicit BDSM scene (light restraints, oral), transphobia/transmisogyny and discussions of it, mentions of racism & sexual assault. ///

Laser was the only thing that mattered, and Glass could only look; at how tired she was, at the uniform-standard makeup twirling down her cheeks, and the curls frizzing from the unceasing, infuriating clawing of Biker Hood, all while she waited again for— Tzzt.

The Little Miss wretched involuntary against her, filling Glass’ ears with a gently nauseous squeal before she was let collapse, the collar clicking with a sickly note of satisfaction.

“Aww— don’t wanna play today?” Hood cooed, prerecorded; should would only dare be so arrogant hiding behind the poorly-compressed ransom note. “Maybe she’ll learn to like it.”

“She’s gettin’ it every 30 seconds till you’ve paid up.”

How many times had she felt it? Thousands— Laser hadn’t picked up in days. Thousands more. Glass was gonna murder Biker Hood, maybe it would even be legal, turn her hands to ice and choke her on a cocktail chilled with her own fingers, snapped off one-by-one.

“Also— if you’re planning on the Lil’ Miss lasering her way out, on leaving her here—”

The words wound themselves around Glass’ neck, as though it were the electroplated chain in Hood’s grasp, who knew exactly what little to expect of a Little Miss. If she’d only fallen harder for the copper crap, Glass thought, as Laser was pulled off the raw concrete floor.

“—we’ve got a demonstration for you. Come on, Doll, I know you like showing off for me.”

Magenta-muddied eyes reflected on the glassy helm that covered Hood’s face. Trembling lips begged to ask for anything else. Tzzt. “Please, I-I can’t do this again,” she whined.

“Don’t I recall you saying you wanted to be a good girl, for me?” Hood said, squatting down and slipping a leathered finger under her chin. “We can do this, or we’ll just have to up that Doll-Resonant Auto-Shocker to every 15 seconds. How long till your friends even see this?”

It was bitter. Friends.

What did she tell you, Hood? Maybe she just knew Laser better than the rest of them, even Glass. Maybe that’s how she caught her. Why would you even care?

There was a single tear falling to Laser’s heart, where shimmers coiled around the gem buried in her sternum, rainbows flooding her palms before the collar clicked—

TZZZT.

Laser was left so breathless, she didn’t even scream. “I worked out the frequency of those little government space-rocks,” Hood said, punchably smug. “It’s why you’ve stopped being able to track her, and why the more she tries, the worse it hurts — no limits.”

The collar was scaling with her, Glass surmised, and it would only stop if it — Tzzt — or Laser broke. Hood could never know how strong Laser really was, she wouldn’t have had the limbs, or atoms, to make her ransom flick otherwise.

How many times had Laser felt that? Glass knew, she’d be terrified of the team seeing this, seeing her like this. It must’ve already punished her— over— and over— and over again.

Hood took her again, roughly, at the chin; Laser melted into its cruel comfort, barely able to hold herself up anymore. The lower segment of Hood’s helmet detached, revealing lips painted in lincoln green, that sowed a kiss on Laser’s own with sensuous possessivity.

She owned Laser in that moment, who Glass had almost thought was blushing, before she buckled, sobbing, and was turned like a mannequin — like she wouldn’t soon slice Hood’s head into messy subdivisions, with Glass pouring in a few icicles after for good measure.

“So — America’s Sweethearts — you’ve got three days. You transfer to the specified accounts and you’ll find out where she is after it’s untraceable,” Hood said.

“I spot anyone looking—” Tzzt. “—and maybe you’ll never see her again.”

---

Little Miss Inferno flicked it off, pivoting around the penthouse boardroom, an audible bristle in her aramid-woven bodysuit. “Six— Million— Dollars,” she breathed, huskily.

“Okay, so— don’t pay it? We don’t lose like a million bucks, and if Hood finishes them off it’s one less problem. Besides, they could totally laser out — if they wanted to,” Tremor said, her oversized, ironclad boots still pitiful compared to the pentagonal desk that stole the room.

“Babe, please— as if we need the bitch overcharging again. You remember we’re in the city; won’t be useless mountains this time, it’ll be us,” Cyclone said, stroking at her wind-proof blonde bun, before clattering the same tightly-trimmed nails on luxury wood. “We don’t even know what this Biker Hood — god, I can’t say it — will even do if we refuse. I say we make the video public, then the Department has to step in to clean up and—”

“This is not a negotiation.” At least Fern had some sense, the least-worst leader after Glass was ruled out as a supposed bad culture fit. “It’s more profitable if we suck it up, take the insurance, and stop Laser from damaging our image any more than they already have.”

Scheming bitch. If the ransom was in cash I’d shove every last rolled wad up your—

“And what am I supposed to do when this third-rate dipshit turns up with six-mill in that resonance tech; bury her in downtown?” Tremor spat, knowing full-well she could handle it.

Glass’ water had turned solid in her hand — and she shattered it, crystal decanter and all, into pieces. No one would give her notice if didn’t she stand out, leaned into it even, with the snow-white hair — but anything else, that which could be considered ‘culturally specific,’ had to be American, and she was thoroughly aware they would never consider her that.

“We’re paying the ransom— and getting her— out of there,” she howled, a blizzard beating at unbattened hatches. “The hell is wrong with you, all of you. We pay it for her sake, for how much it would hurt her if this got out. Should never let any of you attend Pride ever again.”

Cyclone immediately whipped up a double-down, grasping at Tremor’s hand, “Excuse me? We’re— They’re not one of us, remember? They’re only here because the gem is stuck—”

Tremor, for her sake, at least looked at Glass with some guilt — gold star for effort — a degree she was definitely annoyed for feeling, “It's just a joke, I wasn’t really suggesting—”

Fern dove a knuckled fist into the table, burning a fire-break into their squabbling.

“Trem, check storage. Laser’s duty uniform hasn’t been checked out in three weeks, so either Hood made a very convincing fake or someone’s bypassed our security— oh don’t give me that look, this is the easy job,” she said. “Cyk, I need you on the flight deck. If there’s an incident I need you to contain it before press gets there.”

Cyclone squinted at Glass through amber-tinted goggles. Tremor didn’t even look.

“Now go, both of you.”

Their hands began to unwillfully untwine, and once they’d pouted off in different directions Fern looked right at Glass, “I do what’s right for the team — not any one of us.”

“Yeah— cos what’s right for the team is keeping in-check the murderous little sunbeam you need for cover-up work, right?” Glass shot back.

Fern was an obedient, government girl; she knew when to hold her tongue, and Glass knew this was the actual reason. Laser wouldn't be so useful if every villain ran at the sight of her; if every civilian started getting in the way, hoping to film something bloody and mistaken.

“Glacier— Do whatever the hell you want. I don’t care. I’ll arrange the damn payment.”

Fern picked up the hotline receiver, the incumbent Secretary of Supers leering down from his gaudily-framed, overbearing portrait. She paused, inputting the code for someone low-down and easy-to-silence, before side-eyeing Glass.

“Why did she even send it to you?” Fern asked, waiting on either response.

“Because I was calling Laser to check-in on her, Fern. People do that, you know — make sure their friends are okay,” she said, before Fern turned, wincing into the receiver.

She had been as clear as spring water. You don’t have friends, Fern. Not here, not in me, not anymore. But Laser is my friend, and I’ll do everything it takes to get her back. Her prints turned to ice as she left, crunching deeper as she thought about how tired Laser must be.

Oh, habibti— how did you get yourself into this mess?

---

“AHHHhhh— Eek! Hood, p-please— I can’t take it anymore.”

Thwack.

“That’s Ms Hood to you— Little Miss,” Milly drawled.

She was distant lightning on her Doll’s thigh — its flash and its thunder, but gentle, with none of its sting. Laser trembled in her bindings; cold-steel police cuffs, borrowed, leashed to a bed-frame squeaking more than she did. The smallest bite to pair with her pleasure.

“Does that mean you’re ready to yield now, Doll?”

Her lips had loosened for only a moment and already Laser was canting an oil-slickened clit back into her, cat-lapping — needily so — at the blood-red furls of its underside, her tongue curling around its half-throbbed head before pulling her back in.

Oh— God, Babe, of course we can call it that! That’d never be too much to ask; your body, your clit.

“Ahh— Never!” she pleaded, in an overacted, pitched-up soprano, “I’ll never yield to your villainous scheme.” It was new, at least, to Milly — turned her into a puppy, squeak-toy in slobbering jaws, pressed with a primordial urge to tear the screeching bunny to shreds.

Milly was stripping off well-stained leather, pouring herself then into Laser’s generous folds, fingers slipping into the softened haunches at her ass, which the slutty, knock-off uniform had temptuously struggled to cover. She wrenched Laser — squirming in desperation as her faux-captor’s cheeks popped with spittle, and precum — back into the straddle, plush thighs sitting nervously at the sides of Milly’s upturned face, curt and bleached blonde hair pooling around her; never once letting go, with suckling mouth or strapping grasp.

“Aww— will you really?” Milly teased, “You’ve been holding on for hours now, and it’s still just you— and me.” She had seen Laser be properly hard once, before bursting into tears. So, instead, Milly made sure to torment her with a thorough and deliberate delicateness.

“Your so-called friends really take their time when it comes to rescuing you.”

The barb was accompanied with a tremulous semi-retreat, pulling back to Laser’s head and letting the little limpness slack in the air, before sucking even tighter, tongue against its tip.

“Oh— Fuck,” Laser said, stomach collapsing into itself, “Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuck— FUCK.”

“Shh— shhh—” Milly soothed, trying to guide Laser back to her own adorable script, keeping them on track for the finale, feeling the intoxicating shiver that rocked through Laser’s thighs into the sheets. I’m gonna need to use these for pillows, but, for now— “You’re gonna have to keep it down, Doll. Or, maybe, everyone will have to find you, just— like— this.”

“No, wait I— I didn’t tell anyone I’d be here, Ms Hood.”

There was the rose-pained truth, breaking her beautifully, the shadow of a dark-hearted desire she was forced to hide — if acted, perhaps, with more ham to it than her ass.

“No one is coming to rescue me — it is just you.”

Laser was stiffening out of her comfort-zone, and Milly loosened to let their short-of-breath, mutual arousal settle. Suddenly, Laser slipped; fallen to the side and strung-up awkwardly on the leash. Milly rushed to catch her, lithe-wire arms making Laser giggle out-of-character.

She pulled her into a cradle, up, from scrunched-up pillows, and reached for the wand that waited, eager and plugged-in, on the nightstand and drew it the perfect spot — the one the pair had once spent a meticulous evening making sure Milly could find the finicky thing.

“Please, Ms Hood— please,” Laser begged, quivering an ever-worse contortionist act on her face as Milly didn’t yet switch it on. “Just— be gentle. I’ll be such a good Little Miss for you.”

Milly ran a tongue over her lips, looking far into Laser’s eyes as she pulled the Doll’s mess into her mouth. “Then yield for me, Doll,” she asked, flicking it on at last. “Maybe I’ll let you feel like this — instead of something worse.”

Goodness, Babe, how you love to pretend I would ever hurt you — that I even could.

“Y-yes, Ms Hood.”

She let Laser fall into her — brown curls unfurling in her face, shoulder brushing at her chest — taking the spare hand to hold Laser’s clit and kiss it, firmly, against the wand.

“Come on then— aren’t you gonna?”

It was notched higher, and then higher again, tussling at Laser’s compos mentis, retching her with unrestrained delight. “Please— I am, I am, I am.”

“Don’t you wanna?”

“I do, I do, I promise, I—” When the words had finally formed she couldn’t stop saying them. “Fuck I— Ms Hood. I YIELD— I yield-I-yield-I-yield-I-yield-I—”

Milly withdrew it, gently, spotting the tell-tale sign, the emotional fever-pitch that Laser so thoroughly thrived over, as she whined one final, delirious request— “Just don’t hurt me.”

“Deal.”

She rolled forward, drove herself onto Laser’s clit, bobbing back-and-forth as she continued to stare into her, making sure Laser knew— This toy belongs to me. And with one last squeak— she came, bucking into Milly and knocking her back with a hushed choke.

So Milly braced on the velvet throw, shaking her head for morsels of dignity as spit-watered cum dripped down the corner of her mouth, catching herself as she rubbed it with an open palm and taking a teardrop on her pinkie-tip; she brought it, chin-tilted, to a concavely curved tongue and waited a pensive and heavily-breathed moment before she tasted it.

This is so bad, Doll. You’re lucky you make me wanna make it look delicious.

“Such a fool,” she mocked. “Enjoy this— it’s the only mercy you’ll know, now that you’re mine. Wonder what I should call you? Little Miss Laser is far too decent for a thing like you.”

“Oh— anything, Ms Hood. I’ll be anything you want; anything for your mercy.”

“Hmm. How about, Little Miss—” Keugh. Heugh. Milly had missed a bit in the back of her throat, and now her oesophagus was furiously rejecting its entry. “Ahh. Fuck. Laz?”

“Yeah, Hood?”

“Ouch.” Milly knocked at her chest— Thump. Thump. “What— was my line? I forgot,” she asked, twisting a neatly-split brow more than sheepishly.

“Oh— um. Little Miss— well. Ahhh.” Laser was blushing at her own naughtiness, pressing cheek into shoulder. Seeing her instinctive attempt to hide was making Milly blush all on her ownsome. “I’m getting out of it now, so I think saying it’s gonna feel so silly.”

There was no way for her to do it, arms pulled above well-squeezed, widely-set tits — those Milly had figured out she preferred push-ups to manage, when she wasn’t having to hide the ever-present purple glow that spilled out her sternum — and legs spread by Milly’s own muscled presence. It just brought even more attention to her self-mortifying predicament.

“Shit, sorry Babe,” Milly said.

“Nah— it’s okay, there’s always—”

---

Brrrrrrt. Brrrrrrt. Brrrrrrt.

Laser’s phone was ringing— again. Milly was surprised to see something so plain from her, still bracing for a poorly-ripped version of the theme from the Department-funded show, Lil’ Misses Save America. But maybe that risked getting her clocked, if it blasted off in public.

“Heya! AHh— Ahk,” she sputtered, voice broken into clattered splinters as she tried to answer, pitching herself back to a relaxed, private tone. “Oh-my-gosh. I’m so sorry, Glass.”

Milly had been presaged, though it was always pleasant, into baby-sitting her niece when she’d figured it out. Hey, Babe— why does your submissive voice sound like your cartoon?

“How you doin’ Chilly?”

That TV found itself immediately unplugged, with Milly left a muttering mess to the overly sharp, superheroine-obsessed 8-year-old — working overtime to keep her satisfied.

She was, at least, well-armed; an entire, accessory-packed doll set, that her niece knew was precious, smart enough to know it wasn’t released yet, hushed-up on Milly’s less-than-legal secrets, and to never believe it was a real Little Miss who’d procured it for her.

“Oh— yeah, I’m good. Just allergies — I’m at the shelter right now.”

It was an idealised version of herself, maybe that’s why Laser liked it so much. It was never going to slip — like she needed to; it was always going to fit in — like she didn’t. She was the one who cared about the contractually-obligated consulting; script feedback, coaching the actresses, hiding the truth. Five times the amount, in-fact, to cover for all the rest of them.

“What d’ya mean you’re not tracking it?” Laser pulled a worried brow at Milly, hastened her to spoof Laser’s signal for Glass to see. “Yeah, I promise. I’ll get it looked at soon.”

Maybe she needed the reminder, who Little Miss Laser could be — who she could be. That she was only able to pretend to be with Milly, who Laser made sure knew she was helping. It was sweet, but still weird. And somehow, hopefully, it was reconciled with all the rest of her.

“Hey, Glass— Can I call you later? I’m kinda, uhm— with a girl.”

Milly had cried when Laser unwrapped the boxed dolls, telling her seventeen times she didn’t have to. She wasn’t even her niece’s favourite Lil’ Miss. And it didn’t matter at all.

“Thanks Chilly. Love you— bye!” Laser sighed with relief. She did love that girl, but not when she was trying to have fun. “Where were we?”

Maybe it was the weirdness that made it so sweet.

---

Brrrrrrt. Brrrrrrt. Brrrrrrt.

Laser had twisted the leash around her, checking on the nightstand, giving the rumbling phone a painful wince before Milly could clamber up to liberate the exhausted captive.

“I think it’s Glass again.”

“You’re gonna have to answer at some point,” Milly said, folding the cuffs into a drawer, next to a dozen naughtier items. The signal jamming is worrying her Babe, more and more.

“Couldn’t she wait till morning?” Laser wrapped tightly around Milly, beginning to trail a finger — one of the ones she trimmed with particular, beloved ruthlessness — between her abs. “We saved the world like— three weeks ago,” she whined.

Milly hadn’t spoken and Laser cautiously tried to fill the space, “You know, cos we’re not due for another asshole like that for, like, at least another few—”

“Till morning?”

She felt Laser’s hands pulling at the trap she’d stepped into, at something she hadn’t been ready to ask in the increasing proportion of time she was spending in the hideout, especially in recent weeks. In another moment she’d retreated the rest of the way — a few filthied pillows put between them — and was squeezing her fingers as she did when really, properly, self-conscious. As though it were possible to press her own power back into herself.

Milly had to look Laser in the eyes. Didn’t.

“Hey— Milly?” asked Laser.

Milly wanted to give her space, she thought, sit there and take in her tits, respectfully, for the fortieth time today. Didn’t realise she’d turned away, groping tremors into the velvet.

Oh— Fuck. She knows my name. I never told her—

---

“So how come she’s still calling you Hood,” Bri asked. “That part of the game?” nodding to the hunch-backed bundle of blankets on Milly’s couch — she was always getting cold in the warehouse, unhelped by how little she wore — watching her own cartoon and taking notes.

“I haven’t uh— told her my name yet,” Milly said, keeping her voice low, “Besides, she must’ve heard it by now. Maybe it’s just part of her game — like you said.”

Bri looked at her with a consternation packed neatly into four, internationally-bound suitcases; the job had gone adequately and she was not interested in acclimatising to this while she waited for the heat to die down. Though, maybe she was still going to entertain it.

“Hey, Little Miss — what do I call you again?”

Milly spotted the smirk passing over Bri’s mouth, a vicious composure slipping just a little. Nothing she was up to could be good — but Laser was already bounding over, bright-eyed.

“Laser’s still totally good. You can say Laz! If you’d like to.” She was being very sweet to Bri, apparently having misidentified her as Milly’s equivalent to Glass, and trying to make a good impression on her behalf. “There is Alex — but it’s not what I would’ve picked.”

And now Milly was getting straight eyeballed, redder than sunburn. See— She knows how to be honest. Bri rolled her head around and prompted Laser further, “Didn’t you choose that?”

“Naw— it’s what Mom picked.”

“Cos see she wanted something neutral; she was that sorta hippie,” Laser elaborated, sitting up and munching eagerly on a clutch of grapes, “And when ol’ Uncle Sam finally found us, changing it was a rather affirmative No. Easier to scrub me with less trailing papers, so it’d be harder for people to figure out one of America’s Sweethearts is a tranny. You know, for whenever some queen like Manning leaks the Department’s dirty laundry.”

“Weird priorities, I know,” she grimaced. "At least they added ma'am when they said it."

Milly was wondering if she should interject, not to stop her — though maybe she was too honest, Bri would be thinking so — but to make sure Laser knew she was listening too, “Shit. I’m sorry Babe. Can I ask what you wanted to pick?”

“Francesca,” she squeaked, a little tender, “Which— Fran. I know it’s kinda dumpy.”

“It’s cute, and it suits you.” Milly paused, watching for how Laser would respond, if she’d ask what Milly hoped she would, “I could call you that, if you’d like?”

“Nah,” she said, “Nah, I like Laser. I like Laz.”

Her smile slid, bittersweet, to the side. “Maybe someday, when we’re— past this. But right now? It’s what you call me, and it’s what Glass calls me. And I like it for that.”

Bri pushed her noisy, overheating laptop aside and reached across to rub Laser’s cheek. “Thanks Laser, that will be all.” It was a feigned comfort, surely, but Laser didn’t need to know that, Bri would be gone soon anyway.

“Oke doke!” she beamed, in moments having bundled herself back on the couch, the familiar SFX imitation of her blasts emanating from the front-desk TV Milly had taken with her on the last job.

Bri thumbed through another stack of stolen post-it notes; reams of passwords, emails, and security question answers. She was looking for whatever let her into another one of the hedge-fund fuckboy’s offshore accounts, but was stuck with half as much material as hoped.

It coulda been so much more, Milly — if your head was in the game and not between her—

Biker Hood hadn’t enough tricks prepared to keep the reception-level distraction going long enough, and fewer marks to work with meant drawing more from each one. After she’d moved the first few million they’d noticed, and were able to cut her off sooner each time.

“See Milly— She knows how to trust you.”

You.

Bri was making some kind of punishment from this — not out of malice, just boredom. There was going to be a lesson too, there always was. Bri did want her to be okay when she was gone. The plan was already booked. Not friends, but still peers.

The lesson hurt worse than the punishment.

“And whether she knows it or not, your name — has it in some crime computer, if she’s found your paper-thin shell company — until you tell her yourself, she’s gonna know you don’t trust her back.”

“Hey— Milly. Can I—” She almost didn’t say it. “—Can I stay over tonight?”

---

        I want her to — but if I’m not able to tell her—

        “No?”

“Oh.”

        Oh?

“Sorry.”

        Fuck.

“I-I know it was, like, a big ask,” Laser muttered. “I’ll go get sorted.”

“Ahh,” Milly choked, “Wait!” She rushed a pair of gym-addicted forearms around Laser’s mid, pulling at sweat-soaked rolls till Laser fell back into her. “You can stay—”

“I want you to stay.”

The startled Lil’ Miss dropped to Milly’s side; she grasped at her loosened bearings and brought a hand to intertwine with the one pulled around her shoulder. “But you—”

“I was scared,” Milly said, her breath shattered into broken chain-links, nesting her head on Laser’s shoulder so she could press a blooming cheek into her thick, fluffed-up curls. “Just— a little. I sort of wanted to make sure that I could say it: No.”

“Oh. Yeah— Of course, I’m—”

“Please don’t say sorry,” Milly begged. Laser said it too much, and Milly wished she could dare to ask: is it because you mean it, or that you think you deserve less? “Please.”

Milly squeezed her harder, terrified the precious thing could vanish if she ever let go, and whimpered, “It’s all me; me and the dumb, intrusive thoughts I shouldn’t have said. Okay?”

She’s gonna know you don’t trust her back.

“I didn’t realise that you knew— well, me. Millicent. Milly. Mill,” she continued. “And I sort of freaked. I should have told you.”

Laser rolled into her and clutched at the accidentally shattered handhold when Milly dared not do it herself. “Why’re you scared, Milly? I know I’m— I know how to control myself. I wouldn’t even dare to think about hurting you.”

Milly forced herself to look at Laser, pulling the buckles of a spiritual armbinder several sizes too small till it pulled into place. “I’m not used to not being in control,” she admitted. There was an awful look in her eyes, in the girl who should never have to feel guilty for this.

She won’t trust me if I can’t tell her — maybe even if I do.

“Because— I could kill you?” Laser said. There was no emotion to infer out of her, the realisation of that causing Milly to wince. The girl who could never stop smiling, till Milly made her. “That I could level the building too, while I’m at it. Hell— the entire block.”

An entire— Fuck, Doll.

Milly needed to let her prosecco-and-orgasm-addled brain process it all, what Laser had just said, arid as the high noon on a gentle, long-forgotten, childhood summer’s day.

“And that’s what everyone else is thinking!” Milly exclaimed. “They’re treating you like this bomb that’s a loose or crossed wire from exploding and— Fuck, it hurts to realise I’ve thought of you like that too. I never used to.”

“No. I get it,” Laser said. It still worried Milly how easily she could accept things, fuzzing the line between easy-goer and people-pleaser. “I guess I’m just used to it now.”

“And you shouldn’t be! You shouldn’t have to be used to it at all!” Milly had almost yelled it, kneading Laser’s hands with a desperate, reassuring pressure, who’d let out a cosied whine in response. “I’m sorry— Laz. I really, really am.”

And she smiled. Just the smallest amount. Yep. “You’re all good.” Please continue. “It’d take a lot to burn the goodwill you got out of kidnapping me, or trying at least,” she said, bringing herself to a giggle. Milly could feel the ropes unknotting at her heart.

“Goodwill!? Babe, what is wrong with you?” She teased, not necessarily desiring the answer.

“Hmm, so many things. So— Many— Beautiful— Things,” Laser said, lolling forward so when she did she was looking up at Milly instead of at her. “It’s nice— when you treat me like there’s nothing I could do to stop you. I don’t worry about a thing.”

“Yeah, except for: the crop, the cuffs, the wand— what colours of rope do we have now?”

“Alright, stop! Hehehe— you’re so embarrassing.” Laser knocked into Milly’s chest, laughing before she leapt right back up. “Hey! You wanna know what the other Little Misses are into?”

Milly pinched at the fat on Laser’s neck, “Let me guess — Glacier’s super into iceplay?”

“Too obvious. Well— yes, but only if she’s domming,” Laser mused, an endearing literalist at times. Milly did not actually need to know even more compromising exposés on the most dangerous girls in the whole world. “Usually the preference is wax.”

Laser twitched suddenly, and her brow curled as she mulled how to admit whatever would come next. “We’ve never had anything, to be clear,” she said. “I used to think I’d actually end up with her. But that’s not Glass — she just wants to be like really good friends. It’s the same with everyone. Kink is more like a hobby she chats with me about. I keep my stuff—”

Our stuff. “—Private. Speaking of which—”

Brrrrrrt. Brrrrrrt. Brrrrrrt.

She scooped the phone and mashed Busy with a tizzied hush. I didn’t mean you. She sighed and swallowed, asking, “Milly— could you get the cuffs out?”

“There’s something I wanna tell you.”

---

Laser kicked at the messed-up duvet till it cradled her unpetite feet. Not askin’ how you got this haul, Hood — but every pretty shoe stops several sizes below me. She was chilling in the warehouse air, faded was the stuffiness begotten from sexed-up biker breath circling about her chest, laying a head on Milly and peering over her neat bust to find some other kind of warmth in her eyes. “Remember when the Lil’ Misses and I were fighting this dude a few weeks back, like— God, Scaremungus-What,” she asked.

“I mean, I’ve met the guy— once, at this mixer,” Milly replied. “He’s got that—”

“Jock. Strap. And it’s shaped like— Yeah, him,” Laser confirmed, the small, golden chain linking her cuffs twinkling as she fumbled at the well-stretched neckline of her costume.

“Hey!” she realised, “Weren’t you doin’ one of those saving-the-world sortsa missions a few weeks back?” You’re not telling me that— he’s even more laughable than me, Babe.

“Mill. Chill. I’m getting there,” snipped Laser, with a chuckle. “So— we’re in this abandoned mineshaft and we’re not supposed to, like, kill him because there’s this low-key nuclear device in the adjacent town with his name on it no one can get close to and, like, it’s putting Tremor out of commission cos there’s no cave-collapsing allowed. Sorry— anyway, I get cut off and he starts uh— coming on to me with, like, the exact pun you’re thinking of, and then he started, like, grabbing himself and—”

She paused, for a moment, Milly drawing in her knees to tip Laser closer as an aching breeze of frustration passed her lips. “I never realised how close he’d gotten and— he grabbed me, and he knew what I was and when he said that—” Laser stopped, head lurching into her chest with only a whimper escaping.

“Mill, you’re the first to ever— express interest in me; like, the real thing,“ she said, the words coming slow and practised. “I know what exists on the internet, the Rule 34 and worse, but— you wanted the actual Laser. Laz. Alex. Francesca. Whoever. Whenever I’ve spoken to people before it’s like they only want the Laser on TV. The doll that comes in plastic packaging—”

“—the one they can throw away, when it isn’t fun anymore.”

“Should I stop calling you Doll?” Milly asked in a quiet and guilt-ridden whisper.

“I don’t know?” Laser replied. “It’s me who puts myself up to it. I tried to be that for you, hid myself, before I realised I could—” She pivoted without a lost beat, “Well— you know that random earthquake in West Virginia? This Appalachian mountain that just fell into itself?"

A few weeks ago. West Virginia. An entire block. “Oh— God— Laz?”

“Yep. Lasered him — and something like half-a-kilometer past him.” Laser was looking past Milly, peering into the peerlessly black tunnel she’d carved again in her imagination. “Fuck, it was bad. It was so bad. And it could have been so much worse.”

“You stood up for yourself,” Milly said — firmer, like she was almost domming again.

“I’ve told you I’m stronger but— Milly, I could pair down the power of the sun till it gives you a tan. That’s what I do every time. Stopped his bomb by putting my finger in a vice — cut a fifty-micron hole into its microcontroller. But if someone just— ticks me off, in the wrong way, at the wrong time. I could hurt so many people.”

Babe. It’s not your fault. It’s because he—

“I’ve thought about it and— I think I could do it, laser to the core, if I managed to get upset enough.” Laser breathed, allowing the gem to pulse in time with her, letting it shimmer through to all her extremities; Milly had to think better of the flittering urge to pinch at her luminous, pink-tipped tits. “That’s the reason I’m a Little Miss. The real one. Not cos I’m secretly as good as them, but because I’m more. West-Coast girl goes rogue, heel-turns into a parody, and she’s under house arrest, but if something went wrong with me? Snipers and drone-strikes. It’d need all of them to take me down — and they’d have to get lucky.”

Milly wished she knew how she was supposed to comfort her. She couldn’t just listen, she thought, it wasn’t enough. Laser deserved better, she—

“I don’t deserve you,” she plead — regretting the words as she said them, seeing it cut deeper, uncauterised, into Milly with each one, and cried, “I— Milly I’m—”

“Don’t apologise,” Milly caught. “It isn’t a question of deserving it — you’re allowed to have me. I know I was— particular, in what I said, what I called you, but even from where we started I could never have wanted you if you weren’t always there. That courage that glimmers through you, in a world I knew would hate you for it, if they did too.”

She hoped it was right, that she understood — because she was scared she never would, no matter what book she read, what video Laser linked, how much she tried to listen.

“Don’t call me brave,” Laser told her, rubbing at her tears with bound-up hands.

“Laz. I’m not. I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t want to be,” Laser cried, her head buried then into Milly’s chest. “I want to be scared, and vulnerable. I don’t want to answer Glass’ calls. I can’t go back to HQ, it’s why I’ve been here more and more and more. I want to be safe and to know you’ll keep me so.”

        “Always. I promise.”

“But you’re—”

        “What, Babe, what is it?”

“No— I’m sorry, Mill I—”

        “Please, tell me.”

“You know, how you said, you don’t feel like you’re in control?” Milly nodded in quick, subtle dips — furrowing her forehead in muscle-ached sympathy. “You’re cis, Mill.”

“There’s part of me that thinks — no, knows — you’re better than me,” she continued. “You want me, my body, and it’s— intoxicating, the affirmation of it. It’s like I’m not pretending I’m worth more than I am, or that I have to make up for that — to give, and never take. I’m not telling you I’m sorry every time I’m not perfect, I’m not worried each mistake will be my last. Except— now— I’ve just fucking vindicated all their worst beliefs about me.”

“Everyone else has stood aside, when you needed them most.”

“Yeah,” Laser muttered, weighed down by the people she could never tell this to, should never have to, in the first place. “Glass— there’s Glass. It’s not the same, but when she doesn’t understand me she still trusts in me. You trust.”

No. I— Stop. You have to say it.

“Babe I— I shut up. I listen. I’m not sure I could ever understand it all, and it hurts. It never feels like it’s enough,” Milly said, her own tears falling into Laser’s hair.

“It is,” Laser replied, muffled as she clambered till her lips met Milly’s cheek, and kissed her in the softest way she ever had. “You are too. And you do understand now, right — why I’m a freak? Power didn’t give me control, it stole the little I even had. If someone could slap some device that nulled me, held me hostage while Fern gave third-degree burns to any villain-fixer she could get her hands on. Well— I don’t know—

Did you finish it — the collar?”

“I did — after the kidnapping attempt,” Milly said. It was a penance, really. Assembled and disassembled and assembled again. She was reminding herself what would’ve happened if she’d used it. “But you know it didn’t work like that — it was a shock collar.”

“I know. It’s a— sophistication of brute force,” Laser beamed. “I wonder who that reminds me of.” Milly laughed, squeezing her tight, and kissed back at her. When you say these things, Babe. “I just keep wondering, Hey! What if it did work! Don’t have to deal with the intrusive thoughts about being pissed off enough to cause the whole-ass end of civilization.”

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t know, it’s bullshit and— Laz, how come I didn’t piss you off?”

“I mean you kinda did— once,” Laser chuckled, while Milly heatedly recalled the plasticated air and the copper droplets running into concrete pores. “Otherwise? Hot and pathetic.”

“Ah! Hahaha! Me. Babe. Pathetic.” — “Really?”

“Come on— did you never wonder,” Laser asked, “why none of my girls have dragged you off to jail yet?” Milly was attempting to command even a twitch on her face, and could only blink in stupefied shock. “Cos I specifically told them how literally not-a-threat you are to me,” she continued. “That you’re like— exercise.”

“Damn. Okay.” Milly looked off the bedside, where the batons and laminate planks slipped into the distant, uncared-for warehouse floor. “Makin’ me feel bad with that one, hehe.”

“Yeah, well— can always put that energy back into spanking me Little-Miss-Inferno Red.”

“Really are a freak, aren’t you?” Milly said, tugging at Laser’s hand. “I love you, Laz.”

“Love you too, Mill,” Laser responded, slowly. There was a small part sensing the moulding tone, but she was still stuck in an attempt to diffuse it another way. “That’s an actual, licensed colour. Emulsion paint, which was a marketing choice. Didn’t let me pick mine—”

“It does hurt though, Laz,” Milly said, nervously watching Laser swallow her info-dump and turn into her own shoulder. She made herself finish, “You don’t— take me, Hood, serious?”

There was a chopped-up groan dragging itself out of Laser’s throat, which she held onto till she couldn’t anymore, till it spilled onto the sheets. “Sorry, I do,” she said, looking back. “It’s because — when I tell them that — like, I trust you. I think I always have, kinda? Because you’re, like, a real villain, Milly! Not some up-jumped crook in a costume who’s gonna fuck up his kayfabe and pull a gun on me because it didn’t go his way.”

She stuttered out a couple laughs, before sucking them in as they collapsed into sobs.

“I knew you’d never hurt me. Not really,” Laser continued. “I got scared because I’d never thought that'd happen — never prepared for it. Cos it was my outlet — my fantasy, even. And our time had become super important to me. And, again, I know — if the collar was working, and you put it on, it wouldn't be good, not if it worked.” She crept forward, till Milly could see herself in water-stained, silver eyes. “But that, like, didn’t happen, and even if it did—”

“—I know you woulda made it right.”

The worried grimace that tore at Milly’s face slowly knitted itself into a wry smile; her shoulders wrenched back, and she yawned into the deindustrialised void and watched Laser’s gaze dancing along her pumped-up ‘ceps with a pleasing glow, before knocking her head into Laser and rubbing at her softly, skin-to-skin.

“Thank you,” she said at last — proud.

“You know, I was thinking, if it was fixed again — the collar — we could always fake it.”

And then — wheezing like a bleached, wounded wolf — she could have sworn her eyes were going to fall out of their sockets, if she’d been able to stare any wider. Laser did not notice. “It would, maybe, you know, sort of reset their expectations of me,” she added. “Make them think I’m more pathetic again, I was thinking.”

And the villain whose idea this had been in the first place still hadn’t opened her mouth, lips inflating shut as she tried not to drink in the suggestion. Bri was right, you are going to kill me. It just won't be you specifically.

Laser began to realise the ground she was treading on. It had taken months to coax Milly into a scenario like today’s. “Just cos— Glass is gonna keep calling and—”

You can’t go back in, not now. And— God— how I’d love to ruin them for that.

“How about— yeah, how about we sleep on that one, ‘kay Babe?” she then asked, rooted in the rhetorical and knowing, with a smirk — it wasn’t going to work.

---

(Masterpost)

originally written on cohost 27/03/2024, in response to Making-Up-Magical-Girls' prompt:

Magical Girl Who Just Wants To Sleep In For Once

[moonstonejpg]

ours (k.bakugou x reader)

—“your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong in"

sum. bakugou is having a bad week, thankfully his girl is always there to make the bad days a little better cw: a little angst, fluffy ending

i hate hate hate paparazzi!! loosely based off of this and the song ours by taylor swift

It had been a rough week for Katsuki.

First, the hero rankings were announced, and he found himself at #15—not even in the top ten. And he swore it didn't bother him, that the rankings were just a stupid popularity contest. But you saw the way his shoulders slightly slumped in disappointment and the way his fists clenched so hard that the half-moon imprints of his nails in his skin stayed for hours after you had smoothed his fingers out.

It broke your heart to see him like that—and then yesterday he got into a silly fight with Izuku, one that was filmed and taken way out of context by thousands of people on the internet. Which in turn prompted the resurgence of people saying he didn't even deserve to be on the list at all, let alone at #15.

bakugou is mentally unstable lol

i worry about his gf tbh, those anger issues are a huuuge red flag

right?! i hope that poor girl gets out of that

she seems so sweet, he’s probably threatening her or something

It was just one hit after another for him.

And now, as he stares out the window at the crowd of paparazzi with a clenched jaw, the only thought in your mind is how this is strike three. All he wanted to do was take you out for a nice dinner to thank you for being so supportive this week, but he couldn't even do that without a swarm of media leeches waiting outside.

"Kats, we don't have to go. We can just stay here." You say quietly, worried eyes set on his tense shoulders.

"No," he growls, "I'm not letting them ruin this too." He positions himself in front of you before taking a few hesitant steps out the front door of your shared apartment building.

His warm hand envelopes your own, fingers threading through before tugging you behind him, half shielding you with his large body. The flash of the cameras and the noise of the crowd makes your vision blur, but Katsuki is moving fast, fingers tightly gripping your own while his gaze is laser focused on the awaiting black car parked on the other side of the street.

Everything is moving so fast, the shouts of the various reporters melting together around you. But you can't hear a word they say, the sound drowning out any specific words, until—

“Why him?”

And you nearly miss the step below as you freeze. The question has you rearing back as if you'd been hit, your eyes dancing towards the sound of the question. You see him right away, a male reporter who is nearly frothing at the mouth for a reaction. The reporter leans forward, eyeing you hungrily as he waits for an answer. And usually, you wouldn't give them any time of day, the daily harassment towards you and every other pro-hero and their significant other almost daily a good enough reason toignore any of their probing questions. But how could you ignore this?

“Why him?” you parrot back, white-hot anger burning through your body at a rapid rate. You don’t think twice before you’re ripping your wrist out of the blonde's hand and taking angry strides towards the reporter. You're nearly toe-to-toe with the man, and while he is a full head taller than you, he shrinks a bit from the look on your face.

Katsuki comes up beside you, gently tugging at your wrist.

“It’s not worth it.” He says lowly, looking down at you with something like sadness tinged in his eyes. And your heart cracks, picking up on the one thing he isn’t saying but you know he’s thinking.

That he’s not worth it.

And you can’t have that, you can't have Katsuki thinking that he isn’t worth any of this, because he is. He is worth everything, and despite being in each other’s lives for years now, the fact that he still doesn’t see that is devastating.  

Your body begins shaking from a mix of anger and adrenaline as you look at the crowd around you. A slow hush falls over the crowd, as if they are waiting with bated breath to see what you have to say.

“Because he is the kindest human I have ever had the pleasure of knowing; kinder than any of you will ever be. And what has he ever done to you to make you so obsessed with twisting every move he makes, every word he utters into something that makes him look like the bad guy? And for a quick buck? You all should be ashamed of yourselves.” After shooting a glare around the crowd, you keep your chin high as you grab a stunned Katsuki’s hand and drag him towards the car.

You gently push him in, keeping a hand smoothed over the back of your dress as you crawl in after him, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary.

The car ride to the restaurant is eerily quiet, and as the adrenaline begins to leak out of your body, your brain catches up to what you did. And yeah—they did need to be told off, but you start to wonder if this is something that will get him into trouble.

You weren’t a hero and you didn’t have a lick of media training, why did you think causing a scene would be a good idea? The thoughts spiral in, and you want to bury your face in your hands as dread slithers its way into your stomach.

When you get inside the building, you are ushered towards the back of the restaurant by the host, presumably to where your table is located. But before you round the corner, Katsuki is tugging you into a dimly lit closet, fingers making quick work of the lock. Even after the door is bolted shut, he stands and faces it, as you just watch the outline of the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders.

“Kats?” You say quietly, a hand hovering over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I just—”

He shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh pushing its way out of his mouth.  

“No, you—” He shakes his head again, then turns around to face you, his body crowding you up against the wall. His eyes are dark, twinkling with emotions you can’t place. Both of his hands come up to gently cradle your face, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?”

You blink up at him, confused.

“Not only was that the hottest thing I have ever seen, but—well, that was the first time anyone has stuck up for me before.”

“I would do it again—anything for you really. You’re worth it. And I know that’s hard for you to believe, but you are. They can say whatever they want, but I know in my heart that I do not deserve you, and that you ” You say quietly, eyes locked on his. He smiles, eyes shining, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” He whispers in the dark of the room, thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“I love you Kats.”

“I love you too. Now, how about we ditch this place?” He asks, leaning back to tug at his tie, before bending forward to loop it around your neck. “I think that new ice cream parlor is open. So, sundaes on me?”

You nod, a giggle escaping when he bends down and tugs the ends of the tie, your body falling into him. He lets out a gentle laugh, the sound like a gentle breeze on a hot day. It has your smile stretching across your face, your heart singing in response.

He reaches down to unlock the door, but when he flicks the lock back, nothing happens. Katsuki tries again, but again, nothing happens. It doesn’t budge, not the second time he tries or the fifth, or even the tenth time he tries. On the eleventh try his hand slips from the lock, his eyes colliding with yours.

It’s silent for a few seconds, and then a laugh bursts out of him, followed by another and another. The sound has the grin staying locked in place on your face, relief flowing through you at the change in his mood.

“We—we’re stuck.” He gasps out, hands falling on his knees as he hunches over, deep laughs spilling out of him. It isn’t long before you are on the floor next to him, trying to catch your breath around your own laughter.