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bananasplit133 · 4 months ago

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I LOVE YOUR WORKS OMG

Can I ask if you can write some random headcanons for some of his variants??(like viltrumite mark, shiesty/cowboy mark, sinister mark, lensless mark, Omni mark, mohawk and full masked mark) 😔

THANK YOU, ANON.

Here's (Nicknames they'd call you + Random headcanons at the end) :D

Nicknames They’d Call You

Because each Mark has his own way of expressing (or suppressing) his feelings for you.

Alternate Invincible/Reader

ft: Viltrumite Mark, Sinister Mark, No Goggles Mark , Omnivincible, Mohawk Mark, Fully Masked Mark , Striped Mark, UNmasked Mark

----

Omnivincible - Pet, my mate, my little human

Omnivincible doesn’t see you as his equal, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t cherish you. He calls you pet with a sickening amount of affection, stroking your cheek like he’s admiring his favorite possession. When he calls you my mate, it’s always with this deep, territorial rumble, like he’s reminding himself that you belong to him. And little human? That one slips out when he’s being soft—when he’s tucking you into his side after a battle, or when he lets you trace the scars on his arms.

----

Mohawk Mark - Babe, punk, little menace

Mohawk Mark has a carefree and rebellious spirit that shines through in everything he does. He calls you babe casually, showing his affection without overthinking it. When he calls you punk, it’s a playful nickname that reflects his appreciation for your boldness and attitude. And little menace is a cheeky way of acknowledging the trouble you get into together, with a hint of admiration for your adventurous nature. He loves the energy you bring into his life, making every moment feel electrifying and full of excitement.

----

Sinister Mark - Annoyance, pest, my toy

He swears he doesn’t care about you. You’re just an annoyance, always poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. A pest who lingers in the back of his mind when he should be focusing on more important things. But when he lets his guard down? When it’s just the two of you in the dead of night, and he’s watching you with something unreadable in his eyes? That’s when he calls you my toy. His voice is low, almost dangerous, and he’s daring you to prove him wrong—to show him you mean more to him than that.

----

Target/Striped Mark - Lowlife, my dear, little thing

To Target Mark, you’re a weak little human, and he reminds you of that constantly. “Stay out of my way, lowlife,” he sneers, but there’s something almost possessive in the way he says it. When he’s in a rare good mood, he might call you my dear, drawing it out with that infuriating smirk. And when you surprise him—when you fight back, when you show him you’re not as breakable as he thought—that’s when he calls you little thing. His voice goes soft, almost fond. You’re not his equal, but you intrigue him.

----

No Goggles Mark - You, idiot, my weakness

He’s so angry at himself for caring about you. You’re an idiot for staying by his side, and he’s an idiot for letting you. When he calls you you, it’s always laced with frustration—“You. Get out of here.” But you never do. And that makes you his weakness. He won’t admit it, but the way his hands linger on you, the way his voice breaks when he thinks you’re hurt—it’s undeniable.

----

Viltrumite Mark - Beloved, my reason, treasure

Viltrumite Mark has no need for petty human emotions, or so he tells himself. But when he holds you, when he looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, he calls you beloved. His reason. His treasure. He says them with quiet reverence, his forehead pressed to yours, like he’s trying to commit you to memory in case he loses you.

----

Unmasked Mark - Hope, light, angel

You’re the only thing good left in his world. Hope is what he calls you when he looks at you like he wants to believe in something again. Light is whispered under his breath when you smile at him, when you pull him back from the edge. And angel? That one’s different. That one’s said in a cracked voice, in a moment of pure vulnerability, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he says it out loud.

----

Fully Masked Mark - My love, precious, mine

He’s obsessed with you. He doesn’t just love you—he needs you. My love is murmured like a prayer, over and over again, as he pulls you closer. Precious is spoken with an almost painful tenderness, as if he’s terrified of breaking you. But mine? Mine is the one he says with raw desperation, with a steel grip around your wrist, with a look in his eyes that says he’ll never let you go.

----

RANDOM HEADCANONS

Omnivincible-

- He views you as a treasured possession, and any threat to your safety sparks his ruthless side. He'll eliminate anyone he perceives as a danger to you without hesitation.

-His affection often comes with an unsettling undertone, as he sees you as a part of his empire. He may stroke your cheek affectionately, but it’s always with an intensity that says you’re his and his alone.

- He struggles with guilt over his conquests and often tries to ease that burden by keeping you close. He wants to ensure you never feel the weight of his actions, even if it means manipulating your perceptions of the world around you

----

Mohawk Mark

-He drags you into chaotic escapades, often without a second thought. The thrill of danger exhilarates him, and he finds joy in testing boundaries—even if it leads to reckless decisions.

-He loves to tease you, calling you babe and punk with a playful smirk, but there’s an edge to his playfulness. He enjoys watching you squirm and will push your buttons just to see how far he can go.

-Beneath his carefree facade lies a cunning strategist. He revels in the chaos he creates, and while he enjoys your company, he’ll never hesitate to put his own desires first, even if it puts you at risk.

----

Sinister Mark

-He views you as a possession, often declaring you my toy in a way that sends chills down your spine. His fixation grows darker, making you both intrigued and terrified by his affection.

-He often displays affection in morbid ways, like collecting small tokens of your presence—things you’ve touched or worn. He might kiss your lips a little too hard, deliberately biting them to draw a bit of blood, relishing the taste as a reminder of his connection to you.

-He revels in the fear he instills, often letting you see the darker sides of his nature. When he whispers twisted fantasies to you, he may lean in close and trace the cut on your lip with his tongue, ensuring you know that your pain and pleasure are intricately linked in his mind.

----

Target/Striped Mark

-He revels in his superiority and constantly reminds you of your place beneath him. Calling you lowlife is a power play, a way to assert his dominance while simultaneously being drawn to you.

- In rare moments of vulnerability, he might let his guard down, but it’s often laced with condescension. When he calls you my dear, there’s a mix of arrogance and genuine fondness, a battle within himself.

- He enjoys keeping you close, but it’s always with an agenda. He’ll use you as a pawn in his plans, making it clear that your existence serves his interests above all else.

----

No Goggles Mark

- Mark thrives on chaos and enjoys provoking reactions from you. His wild grin and giddy laughter reveal how much he relishes the destruction around him, and he finds joy in scaring you just as much as he enjoys the thrill of battle. He might playfully challenge you to hit him, genuinely excited about the pain, seeing it as a game to push your limits.

-He has a twisted sense of affection, mixing playful teasing with darker impulses. When he holds you close, it’s with an intensity that’s both possessive and thrilling. He’ll laugh off injuries, encouraging you to hit him or even react violently, finding a strange delight in the way you both navigate fear and excitement together.

-Despite his unpredictable and dangerous nature, Mark possesses an unsettling charm. He can switch from terrifying to oddly sweet in an instant, making it hard to decipher his true intentions. He might grip your shoulders tightly, leaning in close with a mischievous glint in his eye, leaving you both intrigued and unsettled by his unpredictable behavior.

---

Viltrumite Mark

- He tries to suppress his feelings for you, believing that emotions are a weakness. But beneath that facade lies a man who’s torn between duty to the empire and his desire for you.

-He views his love as a weakness, and though he tries to push you away, he often pulls you closer when it suits him. Your presence is comforting, but he sees it as a distraction from his greater goals.

- When he admits feelings for you, it’s in a way that reflects his indoctrination. He may see you as a potential ally in his conquest, complicating your relationship with his ulterior motives.

----

Unmasked Mark

- Your presence serves as a reminder of what he’s lost, and he often feels unworthy of your affection. He fights against his darker instincts, wanting to protect you but fearing he might hurt you instead.

- He admires you deeply, but his self-loathing often leads him to push you away. He’ll call you hope in moments of desperation, longing for the innocence you represent.

-While he cherishes you, he sees you as a light in his darkness—a burden he feels guilty about. He fears what he might become, yet he clings to you in hopes of redemption.

----

Fully Masked Mark

- He’s utterly obsessed with you and will go to extreme lengths to keep you by his side. His possessiveness often leads him to isolate you from others, believing he’s protecting you.

- He sees you as his salvation from the horrors of his world, and while he loves you fiercely, he often intertwines that love with his darker impulses.

-When he wraps his arms and legs around you, it’s a desperate attempt to feel whole. He often whispers sweet affirmations, but there’s a darkness lurking beneath his devotion—an ever-present fear of losing you to the world he’s created.

(this took me so long to write; im gonna explode)

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moody-alcoholic · 6 months ago

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Cross My Heart

Part 1 - Self Preservation

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: Mention/description of injuries, mention/description of weapons.

Part 2

Enjoy <3

A light flicks on waking you from your sleep.

Your eyes open looking round the room, it only takes a few seconds before your eyes land on a man holding a pistol at you. He’s sat on a chair, covered in what looks like military gear. There’s a bigger weapon slung over his back.

“Not a good idea to be sleepin’ when you’re alone.” He has an accent you can’t quite place. Not American though.

“I had lookouts.”

“Yeah, ‘bout that.” You swallow hard, your heart is pumping rapidly in your chest. They’re most likely dead. Innocent people dead.

“What do you want?” You ask, your eyes flick over to the pistol on your night stand. The man seems to see that, a change in your attitude.

You have to act now.

You reach out for the weapon. The man is on his feet in an instant, the pistol in his hand comes down hard on your wrist.

You yelp out in pain, your weapon falling to the floor. The door to the room fly's open, there’s another man now. He makes you jump, training an AR at your head.

There’s no point in fighting.

The man next to you picks the weapon up off the floor, unloading it and throwing it to the side. You swing your legs out the bed, throwing the covers back.

“Don’t fuckin’ move!” He shouts. You hear the safety click off his gun, your breath catches in your throat. You hold your hands up, you’re unarmed, there’s nothing you can do.

“What are you doing in a ULF safehouse?” The man in the doorway asks, you keep your eyes trained on the person holding the pistol to your head. British? You get a better look at the man in front of you, his badges. SAS, Union Jack, fuck.

“You’re injured?” There’s blood on his vest, it’s a long shot but better then nothing. “I’m a medic. I can help.” It’s a lie but all you can think about is getting out here alive.

The man looks to the doorway, you keep still. Even if you could tackle him to the ground his friend would finish you off.

“We’ve got one injured, think you could help?” The man in the doorways asks.

“What happened?” You ask, trying to hide your nerves. Your mum was a nurse, your dad a doctor before. Before the war.

“GSW.” That’s all you’re given, that could mean anything.

“You work with the ULF?” The man in front of you asks. You shake your head.

“Al Qatala?” You shake your head again.

“Who?” The man in the doorway asks again. This time you turn to him. The mask on his face is splattered with blood. He’s bigger, taller and wider than the guy in front of you. He has the same patches though, Union Jack, SAS.

“You said you had injured? You’re not going to find a hospital around here. It’s all Al Qatala controlled territory.” You say. Self preservation at its finest.

“Can you help then?” The man in front of you asks. You turn to look at him, your hands still in the air.

“The longer we wait the less chance I have. Gunshot wounds can be unpredictable.” You say swallowing the nerves. Confidence is key, that's what you learnt once. The man in front of you puts down his weapon grabbing your wrist and pulling you to your feet.

“Try anything and we fuckin’ kill ya.” He says through gritted teeth.

…

When you make it down to the ground floor as their hostage you can smell the blood in the air. The man with the mohawk is walking down first, the man with the mask is behind you, the barrel of his AR digging into your shoulder blades.

You can see two other people, they’re dressed in similar gear. At least one of them is, the other is laid out on the couch. The man standing turns, he brings a pistol up pointing it at you.

“Eazy Gaz. She’s a medic.”

“Doesn’t look like one.” The man-Gaz-says lowering his gun looking around at the people escorting you. You make it over to the person on the sofa. He doesn’t look good.

You don’t know what you’re doing, you didn’t think you could make it this far. They’ve taken his vest, belt and boots off. It’s just his shirt and trousers, his shirt is soaked through, pulled up to his chest. They’ve been trying to stop the bleeding. You’ve seen wounds like this before, you’ve seen people die from wounds like this.

“You said you could help him. What do you need?” The voice snaps you out of your head, you look over at him. The mohawk guy, he’s put his pistol away.

You have no idea what to do.

“Clean water, and bandages. Sterile if possible.” You say, you can’t tell if that sounds professional or not but they exchange glanses and the mohawk man leaves the room. You take another step over to the sofa. You need to know if the bullet has gone through or not.

“Not another step.” Gaz says. You hold your hands up again, holding your ground.

“I can’t help him if you don’t let me check him.” You say.

“Stand down Gaz.” You hear the voice behind you say. You don’t turn but you assume it’s the man with the mask. Gaz shifts gripping the weapon in his hands tighter.

“You won’t hurt him?” He asks, gritting his teeth.

“Cross my heart.” You say lowering your gaze, you keep your hands up until he moves out the way to join the man behind you. You look down at the man on the sofa. He’s unconscious, moans leaving his lips as shuffles on the sofa, his skin is clammy you can see the beads of sweat dripping down his face.

You lower your hands bending down by him. Your hand brushes over the bandages.

“I got water. Ghost, Gaz. Check your medkits for sterile bandages.” It’s the man with the accent.

Ghost. He must be the man with the mask. Gaz and Ghost.

A bowl of water is put down next to you. You look up at the mohawk man and nod at him. You’re still not sure what to do.

Clean the wound, asses the damage and get then fuck out of here.

…

There’s no exit wound. You’re not sure if that’s good or bad.

You replaced the bandages with gauze, homeostatic gaze, the good stuff you've only seen once or twice. The bleeding seems to be under control but that doesn’t help you if you don’t know how much he’s lost. His blood type is O+ that doesn’t help you either.

You try to remember things you’ve picked up from your parents. He’s breathing, responding to pain even though he's barely conscious. His pulse is as rapid as his breathing, again you don’t know if that's good or bad. You know it can’t be good but you’re not sure what to do.

You dip your hand back into the bowl of water and wring out the cloth before placing it on the man's forehead.

If he dies they’ll kill you. There is always someone behind you, you can hear them shuffle, move their weapon from hand to hand. If you tried to make a run for it they would kill you. Your best chance is to save this man. Save the enemy.

If he’s breathing, you’re safe.

You continue to make yourself look busy. Patting his forehead, keeping pressure on his wounds. He doesn’t seem to have any other injuries, just a gunshot to the abdomen.

“When were you going to tell us huh!?” The voice is loud and angry. You turn to see the man from earlier-Gaz storming towards you with a weapon in his hand. He only stops when the barrel is pressed to your head.

“What’s going on?” Ghost asks, his weapon is still trained on you from a distance.

“She’s Konni.” The man with the mohawk says. You look up at the man with the gun pressed to your head. You didn't even get a chance to get to your feet.

This is it. This is how you die.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months ago

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book 7 part 12 part 1 thoughts!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 12 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 227 to part 244, focusing on Cater and Deuce.

We will get the other 3 Heartslabyul boys in 2 future updates. The second part is Ace, then Trey. Riddle is last!

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

We land in what seems to be a hallway at NRC. Unfortunately for me (who seeks vengeance against a certain lion for emotional damages), Leona provides no funny reaction to the bumpy travel while dream hopping. He even makes fun of those who had a hard time, calling them weak if something like that gets to them 💀 YOU'RE ALREADY ON FUCKING THIN ICE, KINGSCHOLAR

Grim gets distracted by the smell of lunchtime so he scampers off to the cafeteria to eat! But... um!??!?! Scarabia mobs in mohawks get aggressive with us.

Before they wail on us, who should appear but the owner of the dream, Deuce!! Our guy has blonde hair (it's a Japanese trope that delinquents bleach their hair). He intimidates the mobs away with some backup from dream!Trey and dream!Cater, who still appear to maintain their vice dorm leader and "#3 in Heartslabyul" positions, respectively. Sounds like Riddle is still the dorm leader as well.

Deuce, Trey, and Cater spot Leona and kind of start picking a fight with him???? They say that if Ramshackle has been taken over/absorbed by Savanaclaw, then there will be problems (or something to that effect). (SORRY, THE DIALOGUE IS SO WEIRD AND FULL OF TERMS I DON'T UNDERSTAND CUZ EVERYONE'S SOUNDING LIKE A DELINQUENTTO SOME CAPACITY)

Cute detail: it's stated that Yuu is typically seen with Ace and Deuce! So even in the world of Deuce's dream... he still thinks about their friendship!!

Leona (and Ortho), actually Being Smart, backs off and lets Deuce take Yuu + Grim over to the Heartslabyul table to eat (even though Sebek gets mad about it). Leona tells the others it's better to observe the enemy first, then demands that Idia find a way for him to listen into the conversation Yuu + Grim are having with Heartslabyul. Luckily, Idia is able to hook them up aaaaand...

We get sort of a reinactment of that part in book 1 where Trey explains the 7 dorms at NRC to us, except this time Deuce is dropping the lore in a really bombastic way.

ALRIGHT, SO. In Deuce's dream, the 7 dorms are still the same as they are irl but each dorm sort of functions like its own... gang????? And there are daily gang wars to use the facilities at school. Certain dorms rule over certain territories, and if you want to go there or do something specific then you have to beat a member of the respective dorm in a battle. Rach dorm has a suuuuper over-embellished title... THIS FEELS LIKE SOMETHING STRAIGHT OUT OF A DELINQUENT MANGA (I also want to add that the devs chose the most unhinged expressions in each character's repertoire for the following visuals:)

Heartslabyul is centered in the library; you need to pass them to borrow books.

Savanaclaw owns the botanical garden (LOL BECAUSE LEONA'S ALWAYS FUCKING NAPPING THERE *flashbacks to the time he almost kicked our shit in for stepping on his tail*). If you want any herbs or other items from the greenhouse, you need to go through Savanaclaw.

Octavinelle is in charge of the area bordering Ramshackle, around where the Mystery Shop is. Sam has apparently signed a deal with them to have his store there. You can avoid a fight with them if you pay a "toll".

Scarabia is considered moderate compared to the other dorms, but they're serious about food, as they reign over the cafeteria, as well as places on campus that produce food/ingredients, like the windmill and chicken coops. It'll be hard for you to take the Master Chef course if you aren't comfortable with constantly pummeling Scarabia kids.

Pomefiore handles the courtyard and the potionology/alchemy labs. If you have to do a makeup lesson in that department, be prepared to contend with them.

Ignihyde students usually don't come out of their territory, which is the auditorium and infirmary. hbfbyoadfadfpfas DEUCE SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS THAT ORTHO IS A NEW MEMBER AND THAT HE'S LIKE A FIERCE GUARD DOG 😭😭😭

Finally, Diasomnia has hold of the coliseum and stables. They are considered the toughest dorm and command respect, otherwise lightning will fly.

Ramshackle is basically Switzerland (ie neutral territory); the ownership is not determined by fighting but rather is determined by the headmaster. (We got no cool visual, lol)

Leona and co. try to think about ways to wake Deuce up... Since fighting seems like an everyday thing in this dream, maybe we have no choice but to go with a physical blow...? But if fighting is so normalized, maybe that wouldn't work... Plus, there are so many faces that the darkness has taken on, so it would be hard to overpower them all. They also discuss their own impressions of Deuce (ie how he looks/tries to present as an honors student versus his efforts and suspected "bad" background). In this dream, Deuce is apparently considered a top performer based on his contributions to the uh student gang wars 💀

A Heartslabyul mob rushes in and reports to Riddle that Octavinelle students are invading the library. Riddle sends Adeuce to clean up and they have this really shounen manga-esque battle where the Octa mobs call Ace and Deuce by long nicknames and Deuce even lets out an ORAORAORAORAOROARAOROAROA!!

A bunch of books are chucked around in the ensuing battle, which causes Sebek to literally FALL TO HIS KNEES and check on them. He laments that they've been damaged and is very upset by this. However, Sebek becomes truly ENRAGED when he actually opens a book and notices its contents are faulty. Like the spelling is screwed up, the pages are blank, or the writing that's there is hard to read. Sebek concludes that the contents of the books are fucked because the dreamer, Deuce, has not read these materials himself to understand them. AND DEUCE DARES TO CALL HIMSELF AN ASPIRING HONORS STUDENT???! SEBEK WON'T STAND FOR IT!!

... This fucking green haired fool shouts at Deuce and provokes a fight by shaming him 🤡 LMAO, Sebek calls the books just papers bound by a cover, IT CANNOT BE CALLED A BOOK!! He tells Adeuce to READ the damn books and then hit each other with the knowledge they gain from reading... OKAY NERD

They open up a book that should list the rules of the Queen of Hearts, but because so much of the book is blank, only like a handful of rules are written down. Deuce says that's not correct, there are WAY more rules--in fact, 810 of them! This starts to wake him up, but dream!Ace becomes darkness and tries to convince Deuce that, at NRC, only strength matters so he doesn't need to study to get to be an "honors student".

HJBAHJBAFSBHDSAHBAS HLAFHL DEUCE STARTS HAVING FLASHBACKS TO ALL THE TIMES ACE FUCKING BULLIED HIM AND DEUCE LEGITIMATELY GETS SO MAD HE FULLY WAKES UP

Wait, this is so sweet 😭😭😭 The image that Deuce has in his mind right before he wakes is his and Ace's reunion with Yuu and Grim at the end of book 6...

Deuce joins us to beat back dream!Ace. Of course Ace isn't this one, the real Ace is way more insensitive and annoying!!

Deuce starts to sort of talk down to himself. He says if his dream turned out like this, then there must have always been a part of him that "wants" to solve everything with his fists. Ortho comforts Deuce by saying that though Malleus's dream is created based on a person's desires, the output can be highly variable depending on the individual.

Sebek starts scolding Deuce again for not reading books in their entirety, and they discover one book that seems to have more information than the others. "The Story of the Trump Soldier" is a famous children's book in the Queendom of Roses, containing short stories about the Trump Card soldiers that serve the Queen of Hearts. Deuce says that he has always admired those soldiers and how cool they are, especially when they chase lawbreakers through the rose maze!

AWWWWW Deuce would beg his mom to read this book to him when he was little.. and when he finally learned how to read himself, he'd read and reread the book from front to cover. WDBHLYOIDFFIADIADF WAIT WHY IS THIS ACTUALLY SO CUTE... OTL

Deuce wants to continue reading where he left off and Sebek says the ideal way to read is in quiet so you can focus on the words. ASBHBLSAIHIDBASSD THEY CRACK A JOKE ABOUT HOW SEBEK ONLY EVER SHUTS UP WHEN HE'S READING...

Sebek seems to demonstrate genuine interest in what Deuce reads. I half anticipated him to follow up with an insult, but Sebek is actually very mindful about different reading levels. He even makes a comment that a simple children's book such as this is able to be the start of someone's love for literature, that it can still have the power to move someone as it does Deuce. That's honestly really powerful.

They then get into a conversation about picking books for each other; Sebek suggests that Deuce pick out an easy book for Yuu and Grim to read sometime. We also learn that Sebek would do this for Silver, but that Silver would get sleepy and never fully finish Sebek's recommendations. Deuce has this nice line where he goes "Even if these books are empty now, someday they will be filled", expressing his desire to become that honors student ideal for real and not just superficially.

Guys, I'm glad you like reading (I like reading too) but now is REALLY not the time for it... 🤡 The moment's cute and all (and it definitely feeds into Sebek's character arc about opening up to non-fae), yet it still feels weirdly placed to have so much casual banter when everyone knows what's at stake.

aiuaidbadab Sebek says that he will check out "The Story of the Trump Soldier" when he's out of the dream world... which is so sweet, right up until he transitions into mocking people who don't understand the emotional value of books. Silver apologizes to Deuce for Sebek's attitude and they prepare to hop into the next dream.

But wait! Where's Leona...?

... BRO WAS NAPPING ON SOME LIBRARY CHAIRS WHILE EVERYONE ELSE WAS TALKING ABOUT THE JOYS OF LITERATURE 🤡 ASJVUFEOVEOQIVib;WBIEQTOIPfwpib He finally wakes up with a stupid hot yawn and asks if they're done with their errands.

Okay, NOW we're ready for the next dream. Off we go!

We land in front of Heartslabyul dorm.

OH LORD Grim's gonna be fried up and eaten, I swear... Leona gets mad at him for clinging to his necklace while they fall out of the sky. Grim claims he didn't notice it was Leona because his hair was all over the place (Grim just grabbed what was close to him), and that leads to Leona filing a complaint to the manager (Idia). "Oi, daikon radish sprout! Make travel more convenient for me." Idia refuses, claiming he's too busy and that since travel only takes a moment, Leona can suck it up. He also has the BALLS to say Leona shouldn't pull a selfish second prince move ,adbilbiodsbiasdi AND THEN LEONA GOES HE HAS SOME CHOICE WORDS FOR HIM NEXT TIME THEY MEET FACE TO FACE, YANNO?????? Omg guys... the girlies are FIGHTING...

On the other hand, Deuce LOVED dream hopping. The wind in his face is even better than what he experiences when he rides a magical wheel. Even if he can't control where he's going while falling, he really liked the rush.

Up comes dream!Ace. He asks if Leona's over for tea or something, which makes me laugh a little because even though Leona knows how to act all proper, he LOATHES actually doing it. Anyway, Ace says that there was a Magicam notif about an urgent matter, so they're going to hold a trial. Deuce is confused that such an important announcement would be made via social media, then tells Ace off for not being in dorm uniform for the trial. Deuce also says that students from other dorms are NOT allowed to be present for trials since they're one of Heartslabyul's most sacred traditions. Riddle would behead you so fast! ... Which confuses Ace. SO YEAH FELLAS, I THINK DORM LEADER!CATER IS CONFIRMED...

Ace leaves for the trial, with Deuce chasing after him. The rest of us decide to go after them, since all the Heartslabyul students would be gathered at the trial and it will be easier to determine who the dreamer is.

But up comes... Deuce?! This must be the dream! or NPC Deuce. So we decide to deal with him early and get him out of the picture. He doesn't revert to darkness at any point, so we speculate that this is because we haven't run into the dreamer yet, or maybe because the darkness has yet to register us as a threat to the dream's stability. In any case, we tie up dream!Deuce so he doesn't interfere!

To the courtroom we go! I think it's the first time we've seen this asset...?

It's very lively inside, some students aren't in dorm uniform though.

OH MY GOOOOOD dream!Riddle is a regular ol' student now. Interestingly, he's got a little red heart as his card suit. It's a similar color and placement to Cater's diamond mark, but he shares the same suit as Ace. sdhlbabiyfaio AND HE'S NOT WARING HIS DORM UNIFORM, HE'S BREAKING A DARN RULE HIMSELF

(Trey is still vice dorm leader!)

The courtroom doors open and someone zooms in on a skateboard! It's Cater, the Heartslabyul dorm leader and our resident dreamer.

He is surprised to see students from other dorms present, especially Leona. ADBKHLADBILADBSI LEOAN LIES HIS ASS OFF ANS CLAIMS DEUCE INVITED HIM TO TEA AND CATER BELIEVES HIM

Cater takes a selfie with Leona and posts it on Magicam. Dream!Riddle interrupts to let him know the trial is starting 15 minutes late, so Cater apologizes and says they should begin for reals.

Leona and Idia have a brief exchange about dorm leadership. Most students probably want to be dorm leader more than not being dorm leader. They each express their own opinions about their title; Idia doesn't want to live under someone who is incompetent (he thinks highly of his own skills) and Leona just hates the idea of following someone else's lead. Spoken like the duo who don't have vice dorm leaders, eh...

Uuuuh so it looks like the trial is for a mob student that was too afraid of Cater to invite him to a croquet game. Cater decides to skip to the part where he gets mad and commands Riddle to behead the mob. Sebek complains about the lack of actual deliberation, but Cater dismisses it. All that he needs to render a judgment is his anger, right?

Mmm, that's interesting. Cater's being just as strict as Riddle is irl and continues to use Riddle's power as a means to punish others. His reputation is also just as scary as Riddle's is in book 1, and Cater mainly seems to be using his emotions to judge others. So in one way, yeah, Cater is laxer with the rules (he allows other students to join trials, lets people wear the wrong uniforms for important ceremonies, makes announcements via Magicam, etc.) but is still a force to be reckoned with.

Dream!Trey suggests hearing some witness testimony since there are special guests in the audience today. They have Deuce bring up witnesses, so Deuce picks Yuu and Grim. On the stand, we claim we don't know anything and the jury records our statement using their smartphones.

abhldbilasiyasoyfe THSI IS SO DUMB THAT LEONA GAVE UP TRIYNG TO UDNERSTAND THE SITUATION AND PROCEEDS TO NAP 💀

Deuce drags the still sleeping Leona up to testify. Despite being handled so roughly, he doesn't wake up one bit!! Leona mumbles something in his sleep, it's an order to Ruggie about how he wants a deluxe menchi katsu sandwich at noon. Cater announces that this is SUPER important testimony so the mobs hurry to write it down.

Last up is Silver! He's the only one that takes being questioned seriously and answers with sincerity. He is asked where he was and what he was doing at the time the grave offense was committed. Silver says probably enjoying tea in the dorm. Dream!Riddle asks why, is it his unbirthday? To which Silver says his birthday (May 15) is a little further away.

This makes dream!Trey realize it's an unbirthday, so Cater announces they MUST have a party! And... BOOM, the background goes dark with tons of neon light fixtures! Cater demands food (which I guess is the context for his new SSR's initial artwork) and has dream!Riddle DJ FOR HIM??????!?!??!?!???????? 😭OKAY, I did NOT want to side with Kingscholar but I'm afraid I have to this time... This has got to be the most nonsensical dream so far, which I guess is fitting seeing the source material www

Deuce wonders if Cater is dissatisfied with Heartslabyul irl, because the Heartslabyul in the dream seems so different. Leona drops it on us that this is actually the Heartslabyul of the PAST, when the previous dorm leader was in power. Deuce would not know about it because he's a first-year student.

BEFORE ANYONE SAYS "Omg, Cater former dorm leader theory real!!!", the game does NOT confirm this. Leona speaks about the previous dorm leader as if it was another student. He never once names Cater. (Oh, and we learn that Leona challenged his dorm leader for the seat when he was a second-year student.)

Deuce reflects and realizes he never really knew anything about the third years because he never bothered reaching out to them. YES, HERE'S A POWER OF FRIENDSHIP AFTER SCHOOL SPECIAL LESSON OTL He also thinks back to book 1 and how not enough strictness (like what they are seeing now) is its own vice, like how too much strictness can also be trouble.

asfuiadofadaefi WHAT THE FUCK

Leona proposes the idea that Trey and Cater are both "using" Riddle. He compares the scenario to how people will bring up a young leader, Riddle, as a pawn in order to overthrow the previous regime (ie the lawless Heartslabyul). Then Trey and Cater become advisors to the new ruler, manipulating him in order to create the kind of country THEY want. It's a tale as old as time. anfbiyoaafiyodgovyqefoiy I HATE HOW MUCH OF A BIG BRAIN MOVE THAT IS...AND OF COURSE FUCKIGN L*ONA OF ALL PEOPLE SAYS IT

The dream!Heartslabyul boys encourage us to eat and drink. Most of us are force fed or pressured into taking a bite/sip, but Leona won’t fall for it. Cater tries to get him to drink mysterious juice from a bottle (does Leona wanna be beheaded?), but bro’s not having it.

Ortho (the one guy who cannot eat) interrupts and reminds everyone that the darkness is trying to lull them back to sleep. We then get the reveal that Trey, Riddle, AND Cater are the darkness, meaning that this Cater is a clone and the real Cater is elsewhere.

Battle time~

Aaaah so Ortho couldn’t identify Cater as a clone because apparently it takes a really strong imagination to make convincing copies??? That, and he comments that Cater sees himself an objective way?? Something, something, because this is a dream, it is hard for Ortho to determine what the true composition of something is.

LOL???? The real Cater barges in, he saw the other Cater’s Magicam post about Leona coming over for tea and got excited about it??? He sees the black sludge everywhere and is sooo confused… It’s literally the meme of the guy walking in with pizza boxes only to find the room on fire 😭

Dream!Riddle is on a rampage and beheading everyone, and THAT triggers Cater to wake up. His own dream fucked up THAT hard.

Deuce is about to be collared but Cater uses Split Card to make a bunch of clones that catch the strays of Riddle’s UM and protect Deuce. This must be the context for his new SSR's groovy!

He and some new clones join us to beat up the darkness! As they’re melting away, dream!Trey and Riddle call out to Cater AND CATER SAYS THEY’RE DISGUSTING, THE REAL TREY AnD rIDDLE QoULD NEEEEVERRR… “Could you please disappear? Bye bye ⭐️”

OH MY GOD 😭 Cater Diamond is not beating the bi allegations… First it was him excitedly running into the courtroom when he saw that LEONA was there, now he’s all like “It’s thrilling to be woken up by the prince”. I THINK WE ALL KNOW WHO THE REAL LIONKISSER IS HERE FOLKS.

zbsnsbiska Cater compliments Idia’s video an says it’s sooo cute 😂 but Idia is not thrilled with that comment.

Cater says that he’s not unhappy with Heartslabyul irl (Deuce’s misunderstanding, ig??). He actually likes the dorm the way it currently is. So I guess Leona's theory about Cater trying to revolutionize Heartslabyul wasn't true after all?? ADFHJAFBUASDUO CATER ROASTS LEONA BY SAYING HE'S NOT THE TYPE TO BE SAYING THAT BECAUSE WASN'T LEONA TRYING TO DO THIS SHIT IN BOOK 2.

ADBILABIYOAOYOIB CATER MOM MODE?????? He scolds Leona and says the Heartslabyul underclassmen are cute because they're stupid and easy to deceive, he doesn't want them to become twisted and gross because of Leona's' poor guidance. THEN CATER CLAIMS HE HIMSELF IS A KIND RELIABLE AND COOL UPPERCLASSMAN THAT WOULD NEVER EVER TAKE ADVANTAGE OF DEUCE... Is this the same guy who fucking tricked us into painting the roses red for him??? THAT Cater??? *stares at him* Leona says no way will Deuce buy that bullshit BUT DEUCE DOES INDEED BUY CATER'S BULLSHIT OTL YOU POOR SWEET SUMMER CHILD...

ADFBHUFSYUOFSOYFEO CATER CALLS SEBEK "SEBEK-CHAN"... This throws him off, because "Sebek-chan" is something his older sister calls him, but when Cater says it, it sends a shiver down his spine!

The group agrees to head to Ace's dream next. Before they depart, Cater seizes this opportunity to take a group selfie~! aberiylaiyladasd Cater wanted to take a pic of his dorm leader outfit as a souvenir, but then he says he also wants to take tons of pics of Leona-kun! (Leona says this feels like harassment adshasd) adshuvoayafeyovifpbiVIYFWPF CATER DIAMOND YOU WON'T FOOL KME, I KNIOW A LIONKISSER EHWN I SEE ONE.

Aaaand we set off to the next leg of our journey! That's it for this update.

Man. I did NOT expect a Deuce and Cater-centric update to be THIS bulky but here we are, I guess 💀

The highlight of Deuce's dream was definitely the part at the end where he shares his favorite book with Sebek. Now, I still got HUGE gripes with the pacing and how the characters continue to waste valuable time chit chatting and hanging around but that aside, I really liked what this moment did for both Deuce and Sebek's characters. We get confirmation that Deuce truly does want to work and study hard to be an honors student--and as for Sebek, we get to see him actually opening up and sharing something he genuinely loves with others. You can tell just how much he values reading; he doesn't dismiss Deuce for reading an "easy" book and sees actual value in it being a jumping point for others to get into other books. He is constantly sharing books he loves with his friend Silver and encourages Deuce to do the same for Yuu and Grim. AND THIS IS FURTHER PROOF THAT SEBEK IS THE BEST B--*is bricked into silence*

Anyway, I'm glad they didn't stop Sebek's character development in Lilia's dream. I'm definitely now getting the sense that Lilia's dream was just the initial "rude awakening" for him when he's confronted with a dose of his own racism thrown back at him. He's not used to his loving grandfather being so vitriolic to him on the basis of his race. And now in more recent updates Sebek is being exposed to the good side of students from other dorms (such as Jack), as well as connecting with them via shared interests (like he is now with Deuce). It's so adorable how Sebek promises he will check out the book Deuce loves so much once he returns to the real world, AHAHHHHHHH H HHHH H H H H H HH H H H H H H H OTL SEBEK-CHAN LEMME SQUISH YOUR CHEEKS MYR PRECIOUS BABY BOI

Something else I appreciated about Deuce's dream is how his friendship with Ace, Yuu, and Grim is made relevant. When he first runs into Yuu and co., he worries that Ramshackle has been absorbed by Savanaclaw and doesn't want to fight his friends. Then when things are cleared up, Deuce still invites Yuu and Grim to come eat with Heartslabyul. He and Ace fight together very well in his own dream--so well, in fact, that it reminds me a lot of how Silver and Sebek are perfectly coordinated with one another when they fought the flowers in GloMasq. It's Deuce's own (loving) anger towards the real Ace that ultimately wakes him up. And you can tell that Deuce places value in his relationship with Ace, Yuu, and Grim by how he acts. AND THEN WHEN HE WAKES UP HE'S THINKING OF THAT TIME WHEN ALL OF US REUNITED... HOW IS THAT NOT SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME TEAR UP A LITTLE...

I thought I wouldn't enjoy Cater's dream, but I actually found it to be very fun! I loved how silly and nonsensical it was; it really tickled my Alice in Wonderland-loving bone. asdvhdvsoidsa I'M SHOCKED AT HOW MUCH WEIRDLY PLACED L*ONA CONTENT THERE WAS IN ACATER'S DREAM OTL I expected him falling asleep to be a gag at some point, and I was right (it happens in both Deuce and Cater's), BUT I WAS NOT EXPECTING CATER TO BE SUCH A LION SIMP, NOR WAS I EXPECTING L*ONA TO MAKE THAT REALLY SMART ANALOGY ABOUT A POTENTIAL HEARTSLABYUL REVOLUTION... **slams an angry fist on the ground** LITERALLY SHAKING SOBBING THROWING UP OVER HERE 🤡

The twist with the real Cater being somewhere else was really interesting, but it's a shame we never got to go deeper with this idea or get exposure to the "real" personality of his. I think there was another missed opportunity (although this would still prolong the pacing problems, lol) with dream!Deuce being taken out so early. I thought for sure that dream!Deuce would escape his binds and interrupt the trial, and then that would lead into a whole Ace Attorney style segment where they try to deduce which Deuce is "real". It would parallel how Cater's UM allows him to make clones, as well as how Cater keeps putting on an act and not showing his true self to others. At the climax of the trial, the OG Cater could make his grand appearance and the rest of his dream could still proceed like the version we really got. I DON'T KNOW, I THINK IT WOULD HAVE BEEN COOL TO SEE... (<- totally biased Ace Attorney fan)

That being said, Cater's dream felt... more geared toward comedy than being serious? And it's not like we haven't had dreams like that before, but it feels especially hollow because we've been waiting SO LONG for him to get more depth, be if exploring his dark side or explaining more of his general inner thoughts. It sucks we didn't get any of that.

Cater's not a character I care for a ton, but I think I saw a side of him today that's pretty funny! He was delivering banger roast after banger roast, especially when he called out Leona for trying to overthrow another regime while accusing him of doing the same. dbiabsiofobiapb Also love that we get a reminder of how underhanded Cater is (something I felt we didn't see outside of book 1 when he tricked Adeuce into doing his chores for him). He fr abuses his status as a "trustworthy" senior and accuses LEONA of corrupting the kids to gain Deuce's support 💀 That scene was so funny, it had me in stitches!

With every new dream, I think I become more and more confused about how these things even work. It feels like they offer a completely contradictory explanation or a new detail to overcomplicate the situation every update, and now I have like NO understanding of anything. What confuses me the most about this update is how BOTH Deuce and Cater claim what we saw in their dreams does not reflect what they actually want. Like... Isn't Deuce ASHAMED of his delinquent era? Doesn't he NOT want to go back to that? Isn't he trying hard to study and to be an honors student irl? That's the opposite of what the dream shows. Yeah, it would be more convenient for Deuce to understand and succeed if everything were decided with strength instead of smarts, but this is still actively NOT what he would want, especially given all the time and effort he sunk into reforming himself. Cater also very explicitly states the has ZERO interest in being dorm leader, so why is it that his dream manifested this way??? I suppose you could say he's lying (because he very much is a liar) and is hiding his true desires?? BUT EVEN THEN THIS DOESN'T MAKE TOTAL SENSE BECAUSE HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN DEUCE OVER THERE??????

So how are these supposed to be their "happiest" dreams????? THIS MAKES NO SENSE and all I'm getting from this (until the writing clarifies) is that the devs didn't actually make the dreams "happy", it's partly this way because they just wanted a convenient excuse to write scenarios that would be interesting for the players to see, such as Leona being king or delinquent Deuce or Savanaclaw Rook or whatever OTL I'm hoping this gets properly explained by the end instead of continuing to flounder and leaving the fans to come up with all the answers for themselves... (I also pray for us to stop wasting time doing nothing while the world is about to end, but given that this is an Important Part of the Pattern, I'm guessing there is no chance this is happening. A BIRD CAN ONLY DREAM.)

Alright, that's all from me. See you next main story update for Ace and Trey's dreams...!

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 month ago

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Hear me out! Invincible variants and HomelanderReader seeing each other!!

Mark Grayson and variants x omega Homelander!reader

a part 2 of this post.

With Homelander!reader being present, the whole invasion would happen a bit differently. Mainly because there's actually a hero able to keep up with them, who's just as murderous as the Variants. The GDA and government would have tried their hardest to hide Homelander!readers true personality, but if it hasn't come out yet, it will here.

It's obvious you don't care whatsoever about the civilians, you are just pissed that these variants are pulling up trying to cause trouble on your turf. Even worse if you and Mark had been on a date or similar.

If its omegaverse, then some of the variants would underestimate Homelander!reader because he's an omega, until he shows them he's not someone to mess with. Some of them (def Mohawk, lmao) would even get a little too interested when Homelander!reader snarls and calls them and their scents disgusting.

Such a deadly and rude omega is just their type, okay? They are still Mark, and Mark is whipped for his big evil omega mate, who he doesn't have to be careful with when it comes to strength.

Homelander!reader is just insulted by these imposters trying to come at him, especially when he knows the real deal. Compared to his Mark, then these imposters aren't even worth looking at.

Mark would be flattered, I think, that his mate is so violently loyal and disgusted by other alphas, but it's also worrying because... you just don't hold back when fighting, so a lot of people can, and probably will, get hurt.

Sinister is the most smitten, I think. Like, you are just gonna place a big, dangerous and bloody omega right in front of him? And omega that isn't swayed by his scent or alpha voice? An omega who can shoot lasers and just broke both legs and both arms on another variant? How is he not gonna start drooling and frothing at the mouth?

Sinister, in a fight, would try to just tear into Homelander!readers scent gland, to forcefully bond with this perfect omega. Only for his teeth to just... not pierce the skin. It only results in Reader being even angrier, and Sinister being even more smitten.

I can't really think of a situation where Homelander!reader would accept these guys, he's just too egotistical, and possessive. Earth is his territory, he owns it, so these guys can get lost. Only Mark allowed is his mate, who treats him well and praises his pigeon nesting.

If it has to become anything, then it would somehow be Mark that works it out. Reader would be snarly and snappy for months, years if he ages slowly. Wouldnt allow the Variants into his heats, only some of them who are submissive enough (cough, maskless Mark, fullmask Mark). It takes a lot of groveling and stroking his ego.

Lord have mercy is Homelander!reader ends up having pups with OG Mark, or just any of them really. You ever seen those overprotective animals with their offspring? Hes even worse. But, it does give the variants a chance to weasel their way in. More mates is better to protect the pups, right?

At this point OG Mark is probably closer to the variants than you are, even romantically, so it does have some success. Only OG Mark gets to put his mating mark on Homelander!reader though, for a very long time, lmao.

#gator rambles #male reader #mark grayson #mark grayson variants #invincible #invincible variants #homelander!reader #omegaverse #mark grayson x male reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible x male reader #invincible x reader #i love homelander!reader hes really grown on me

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ravensvalley · 8 months ago

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#HalloweenSelfie

The perfect foggy morning, for another memorable day... Happy Halloween to everyone folks.

#Halloween #Fog #Halloween Selfie #Foggy Morning #Native Community #Sacred Land #Autumn #Spooky #Halloween Season #Fall #Mohawk Territory #Traditional Homeland #Mohawk Native Reserve #Red Power Movements #Mountainous Part of the Northern Hemisphere Canada #The RavenKeeper

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wordsofwhimsy · 3 months ago

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【Ｏｐｐｏｓｉｔｅｓ　

Ａｔｔｒａｃｔ】 - Part Seven

Pairing: Mohawk!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, slice of life, just a smidgen of angst

Word Count: 2,241

Chapter Synopsis: Mark meets your new friends, and comes back later that night just in time to hear you deliver some news he is NOT thrilled about.

Part Six

The afternoon had gone better than you ever could’ve imagined.

Mark showing up at your door had been a surprise, but a good one. A really good one. As soon as you’d seen him standing there—messy-haired, vaguely irritable, but very much alive—your brain kind of went haywire. Hugging him had been instinct, automatic. You hadn’t even thought about it. You’d just missed him. Plain and simple.

And now he was here.

You couldn’t stop smiling. It was like something had clicked back into place. Even though he didn’t say much, just having him nearby made you feel steadier somehow. Calmer. Even lighter.

You’d been so proud introducing him to your friends. It felt like… like balance. Like your past and your present finally fit in the same room. You didn’t have much experience being part of a group, but watching Mark sit beside you while Emily and the others chatted on—your friends—was like proof that maybe you weren’t as hopeless at this as you thought.

What you didn’t notice was the tension rolling off Mark in waves. You didn’t catch the way his jaw stayed tight, or the way his eyes never quite relaxed, constantly tracking every movement like he was waiting for something to pounce. It didn’t even register when he sat down beside you in the exact spot Kyle had just vacated, arm loosely draped behind you in a gesture that felt casual—but wasn’t.

All you knew was that Mark was here. And everything felt right again.

He stayed for maybe an hour—long enough to make polite small talk with Emily, long enough to completely stonewall Kyle (not that you noticed), and long enough to look like he definitely didn’t want to leave when his phone buzzed.

“Sorry,” he muttered, pulling it from his jacket. His expression soured before he even looked up. “I’ve gotta go. Something came up.”

You frowned. “Already?”

He didn’t answer right away, just pushed himself up, clearly irritated. You followed him to the door without thinking, and he hesitated before turning back.

“I’ll see you later,” he said. Not a question. More like a fact.

You nodded, still watching him with that soft but disappointed warmth in your eyes. “Yeah. Definitely.”

And then he was gone.

The door had barely clicked shut behind him when Emily spoke up from her bed.

“Okay,” she said slowly, “so are we just not gonna talk about the fact that your hot childhood friend definitely has unhinged energy?”

You blinked. “What?”

Emily raised a brow. “He was like... intense. Like serial killer eyes. Or ex-boyfriend-watching-you-date-someone-else-for-the-first-time energy. Very ‘If I can’t have you, no one can.’”

Ben snorted. “He looked like he wanted to snap Kyle in half.”

“Yeah,” Kyle added, rubbing his hand with a wince. “Honestly? I think he tried.”

You stared at all of them, stunned.

“Wait—what? He was fine. That’s just how Mark is.”

Emily smirked. “Sure, babe. If you say so.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Because maybe he was a little intense. Maybe he had been weirdly stiff and broody and territorial. But that was just Mark. And you adored that about him. Always had.

The rest of the afternoon passed in that hazy, golden kind of warmth that only came when you were surrounded by people you didn’t feel the need to impress. Everyone had settled back into the groove of things, and even though Mark was gone, the atmosphere didn’t drop. If anything, it mellowed in a way that let everyone relax a little more.

Ben left first, muttering something about a paper he needed to finish before midnight and promising to come back later with gummy worms and energy drinks for a group study session. Emily gave him a dramatic salute on the way out. Then it was just you, Kyle, and Emily, who had sprawled out across her bed like she planned to become one with the comforter.

The conversation ebbed and flowed, wandering from stupid internet videos to your growing class workload, to the weird meat substitute they’d started serving in the dining hall. You were mid-rant about the suspiciously rubbery chicken when Kyle stood up, brushing invisible lint off his jeans.

“I should head out too,” he said, reaching into his back pocket. “But—hey—before I go…”

You blinked up at him, pausing mid-sentence.

He stepped closer, flashing a pair of tickets between his fingers, the paper edges fanned out like a magician’s trick.

“You ever been to a baseball game?”

Your brows shot up. “Um. No?”

Kyle grinned. “Wanna go to one?”

Your mouth opened, then closed. For a second, you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not—until he wiggled the tickets.

“They’re for this Saturday,” he said, casually, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I figured, I dunno, it might be fun? You seem like someone who’d appreciate stadium nachos.”

You let out a short laugh, wide-eyed. “I mean—I’ve never even been to a sports game period, let alone baseball. So… um, yeah?! That sounds awesome!”

Kyle’s smile widened. “Cool. I’ll text you about it, okay?”

He gave a little wave to you and Emily, then ducked out the door. The second he was gone, Emily sat up from her bed like someone had just yanked her upright with a string.

“You’ve never been to a baseball game?” she asked, scandalized. “Girl, your social resume is tragic.”

“I’ve been busy!” you defended, smiling wearily. “Besides, it’s not like anyone’s ever asked before.”

“Well, Kyle just did. Which means I get to dress you. You’re not showing up in one of your oversized book convention hoodies.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed a pillow at her head.

It was later that night, the sky outside dipped in blue-black velvet and dotted with stars. Emily had gone out to some late-night tutoring session for one of her nightmare lab classes, and you were pulled up to your desk with your laptop, scribbling notes with one hand and stroking Pesto with the other, his warm body curled in your lap like a loaf of bread.

The knock at your window was soft, barely more than a tap.

But your head snapped up instantly.

You didn’t even hesitate—just launched yourself out of your seat and pulled the window open in one smooth motion.

Mark hovered just outside, arms crossed and looking irritated at the world in general. But his scowl lessened when he saw you, and something behind his eyes—some heaviness—lifted, even if only a little.

“You’re lucky Emily’s not here,” you teased. “She’d lecture you on proper entrances.” And also freak about the fact that he was literally flying at their second story window, but whatever.

“She can take it up with the RA,” Mark said, stepping through. “I’m not knocking on the front door like a chump.”

You smiled and moved aside, letting him into the cozy chaos of your side of the dorm. Books were stacked like Jenga towers. Pesto blinked slowly at Mark from his spot and let out a little chirp before curling back up.

Mark watched him with faint suspicion. “Still don’t get what that thing is. Looks like a mistake.”

You gasped, full offense written all over your face. “He is not a mistake.”

Mark blinked, immediately rigid from your reaction to his choice of words. “I didn’t mean—okay, I mean, look at him,” he gestured weakly toward where Pesto was flopped over sideways on top of your notes, tongue poking out. “That can’t be a real species.”

You scooped the little creature protectively into your arms, as if shielding him from the slander. “He’s perfect.”

Mark opened his mouth, then closed it again. He’d fought space dragons with less ferocity than what you were aiming at him right now. “...Okay. Sorry. Pesto is perfect.”

You narrowed your eyes.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Perfect. Angelic. Stunning. I take it back.”

Pesto sneezed on your sleeve.

“See?” you said proudly, cradling him like a baby. “Flawless.”

Mark couldn’t help it—his mouth twitched. “Sure. Flawless little goblin.”

You rolled your eyes, but the grin on your face said everything. A few seconds of silence passed, and Mark’s expression turned tense again. “I was on a mission,” he said seemingly abrupt, voice lower now. “That’s why I haven’t been around. I didn’t mean to just… disappear.”

“Oh.” You tilted your head, eyebrows raising just a bit. “Are you okay? You look… not okay.”

He gave a half-smile, dry and sharp. “I’m alive. Barely.”

You nudged his arm gently. “I figured it was something like that. I was just glad to see you today.”

Mark stared at you, searching your face for something he couldn’t name. You weren’t mad. You weren’t even disappointed. You were just happy to see him. He didn’t know what to do with that.

“That’s it?” he said, voice softer. “You’re not mad?”

You shrugged. “Why would I be? You’ve got stuff going on. I get that.”

That hurt more than he thought it would. “I thought you’d be pissed,” he admitted.

“Mark,” you said, looking up at him. “I missed you.” And that was somehow worse. He cleared his throat, gaze dropping.

“Right. Yeah.”

The silence stretched just a little too long before you suddenly lit up, like a switch flipping.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you—Kyle asked me to go to a baseball game with him.”

Mark blinked. “...What?”

You turned to grab your planner off the desk, flipping it open. “This Saturday! He had these tickets and said he thought it’d be fun.”

You were glowing with excitement, voice quick and bright in that way it always got when you were looking forward to something. “I’ve never been to a game before! I mean, I’ve seen clips and stuff online, but never in person. Emily says it’s, like, a whole experience.”

Mark didn’t say anything. Not right away. And when you glanced back at him, he was still standing there, expression unreadable, shoulders drawn tight like a wire pulled too far.

You blinked at him, waiting for some kind of response.

“You sure you’ll be able to go?” He asked gruffly. “Looks like there’s a mistake on the ticket. The print’s kinda weird. Maybe they spelled your name wrong.”

You stared at him. “There’s no name on the ticket.”

“Right,” Mark muttered. “That’s what I meant.”

There was a pause. Pesto chewed on a thumbtack. You tilted your head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, totally. Great. Just… tired. Jetlag.”

“You flew here,” you said slowly.

He gestured vaguely. “Exactly.” If he looked any less cool, he’d be on fire.

You shrugged it off, sliding the ticket back into your desk drawer. “I’m just excited. I’ve never been to a game before. It’ll be fun.”

Mark moved to be sitting on your bed, leaned back onto his forearms as his eyes narrowing slightly. “So you’re going with… Kyle…” He didn’t intended for it to come out that way, but his name was strangled between his teeth.

You nodded, oblivious to the way his jaw had tightened as you hummed a noise of agreement, “Yeah! I figured why not, right? I’m trying to say yes to more things.”

“Right,” he said again, his voice dangerously close to a growl. “More things.”

You missed the sharpness entirely, plopping back onto your chair with a satisfied sigh. “It’s so weird. A few months ago I never would’ve agreed to something like this. Now I’ve got a roommate who doesn’t hate me, my perfect little companion—” you tossed a look at Pesto, who hissed from atop your bookshelf, “—and people actually invite me to stuff! Feels like a glitch in the matrix.”

Mark didn’t respond immediately. He was busy imagining what it’d look like if Kyle got accidentally nailed by a foul ball.

You glanced at him again. “You sure you’re okay?”

He forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. Just picturing Kyle trying to explain baseball to you for three hours.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Mark lied, sitting up straighter. “He just doesn’t seem like your type.”

You squinted at him. “My type?”

“Like—” Mark floundered for a second. “—the kind of person who… gets you.”

There was a beat. And then you laughed. Not at him, just… lightly. Like he’d said something funny without realizing it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you said, smile still there. “You’re just weird sometimes.”

Mark sighed, running a hand through his strip of hair. “Yeah. I’ve been told.”

You watched him for a second longer before turning back to your textbook, absolutely unaware that your childhood best friend—half-alien, covered in scars, strong enough to crack the moon in half—was one wrong word away from launching Kyle into the sun.

Mark, meanwhile, leaned back on his elbows again, glaring holes into your desk drawer like it had personally offended him. The baseball ticket was in there. Kyle’s ticket. To your first game. And you were excited about it.

He wondered, very briefly, if he could ask Cecil for a mission that just happened to take place at the same stadium.

Strictly coincidence. Totally not unhinged behavior.

For the moment though, all he did was watch you study, legs tucked beneath you, tongue poking out slightly when you concentrated. You didn’t notice the way he looked at you. You never did.

Maybe that’s what was driving him the most insane of all.

———————

Part Eight

———————

#invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson fanfic #mohawk mark x reader #variant!mark x reader

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cumikering · 6 months ago

Text

Gym bro Soap x reader

4k | fluff After a month away, Soap came back to a pleasant surprise (part 2)

Your new building was a little far from everything. Sure, the walk to the bus stop was longer, but it meant fewer speeding cars or drunk people yelling in the wee hours of the night.

But it wasn’t what sold you on the studio flat. When the polite landlord took you there for a viewing, you passed the gym, tucked away at the end of the building. It wasn’t fancy – probably why it wasn’t advertised it in the first place, but it had all the necessities. You couldn’t ask for anything better for the price.

You weren’t into body building, but it was high time you made exercising a habit, especially now that you had no excuse to skip working out anymore.

In comfy shirts and leggings, you started going. Some days were easier, but you managed to visit the gym at least twice a week. You were proud of yourself for sticking to your commitment despite the circumstances.

See, you didn’t expect much, but the other gymgoers didn’t return your smile even when they would chat and giggle amongst each other. Needless to say, it wasn’t the most welcoming feeling. It didn’t take long for you to learn to keep your head down and stay out of everyone’s way. You started going in at odd hours for a little peace and quiet, so you didn’t feel judged and silly for even trying.

So one early Sunday when you pushed the door of the empty gym open, a relieved smile bloomed on your lips only to drop when grunts and heavy breathing greeted you. You paused in the doorway, spotting a man in a hoodie on the reclining bench.

Maybe another day.

You began your session: warming up on the elliptical before heading to the dumbbell rack. But oh, the only other man there, the same grunting one was there reracking his massive weights. Your steps slowed.

He was huge. He’d taken his hoodie off; his black undershirt didn’t leave much to the imagination. His shorts couldn’t hide his muscled thighs either. He had an interesting hairstyle - a mohawk, as if he didn’t command enough attention without it.

You spun on your heels; you could do something else meanwhile. You made your way to the pulldown machine only to realise the rope attachment was missing. You scanned the room, discovering that it was on the ground next to the cable machine… Which the man was now using.

Well, you certainly didn’t want to disturb. What if he was using it? You contemplated before he let out another strained grunt. That was a territorial display, wasn’t it? A stern warning for you to not bother him. You decided to use the bar already attached.

You’d never used this attachment - always in popular demand, but at least you’d seen people using it. You did your best; a set of 8 was a good start. As you shook off the strain in your arms between sets, you noticed the man walking over in your direction in the mirror.

Was he still using the machine? Or was your technique atrocious? It was a little heavy for you, but you controlled the negative, not letting the weights fall back and slam. Oh dear, you must have done something, judging by the frown on his face.

“How many sets left have you got on this?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to jump in,” you squeaked, jumping off the seat.

“No, no. If you’ve got sets left we could work in together.” He gestured for you to sit back down.

You didn’t know where to look. He had such clear blue eyes, trimmed dark stubble lining his shapely jaw. He was far more muscular up close; his wide shoulders only emphasised his tapered waist.

His hips canted as he casually shifted his weight. “And whilst I’m here, I can spot you too if ye’d like.”

With his frown gone, coupled with his Scottish accent, he appeared far more sociable.

“Oh…” You slid back into the seat.

He pulled the bar down for you. “I like a wider grip,” he said, pointing further down the curved bar. “But ye should see which grip is most comfortable. Lean back a bit. Keep yer chest up, and pull.”

You did as instructed.

“Nice an’ slow on the way back. There you go.”

You grinned. “Oh, that’s a lot easier now!”

“Let’s do a set of ten. That’s three… Four…”

After your last rep, he helped you with the bar again as you got off the seat. “Thanks so much!”

“Am Johnny by the way.” He full stacked the machine before grabbing the bar and taking the seat. “If you need help, feel free to ask.”

You would have loved to return the favour, but with the way he made his set of twelve look like nothing, he probably didn’t need the help.

You did two more sets after each other before you headed to the cable machine. He showed you his favourite exercises there, adjusting the height and weight for you. He didn’t make you feel small about making mistakes, instead encouraging you and helping you.

After your session, you thanked him again for his help.

“Don’t mention it. It was my pleasure,” he answered with a smile before taking a swig from his water bottle.

“See you around, Johnny!” You waved at him.

When you walked back to your flat, it dawned on you that it was the first time your workout didn’t feel like a chore. It was then you realised why people preferred having a workout buddy.

It was silly, but Johnny’s little crush on you made him feel like he was in primary school all over again. Because… Well, he wasn’t sure you were even aware of his existence before that Sunday morning.

He saw you first last month after he got back from a mission. It wasn’t often that he saw a fresh face in the gym so you didn’t go unnoticed, especially not when you looked like that. You always had your head down, as if you were trying to be invisible. You might have been to others, but not to him. Sometimes between sets, you’d smile at your phone, maybe even let out a small laugh. The little he saw intrigued him.

It was irrational - he was a grown man. He could just talk to you, but he didn’t, content with simply admiring you from afar. He wasn’t your type anyway. A sweet, quiet lady like you wouldn’t like a brash man like him. And so over the weeks, if he was lucky enough to encounter you, he’d steal glances.

Johnny always preferred his workouts at an idle gym, so when he went on an early Sunday, he didn’t expect anyone to walk in on him and his ratty hoodie. He was supposed to have a run after and didn’t bother wearing anything nicer than the hoodie he went to bed in. But when he realised it was you, he ripped it off immediately. He’d never let you catch him looking like he was allergic to the shower.

He didn’t know what came over him – maybe because he was feeling ballsy with his deployment coming up later that month. But before he realised what he was doing, he was walking over to you, armed with the absurd question of how many sets you had left. It was just as well no one else was there so there would be no witnesses to the devastation, but it wasn’t one. Far from it, in fact.

When you smiled, his stomach flipped – his first time seeing it up close, and directed at him. And that smile remained for the most part until you excused yourself back to your flat.

He swore to never leave his flat looking less than immaculate. It was a good decision, because two days later, he saw you again. He made a beeline to you at the pulldown machine as you finished your set.

“Hi,” he said, helping you with the bar.

“Hi, Johnny.” You smiled up at him. “Thanks.”

Catching you wasn’t hard after that. You told him your schedule and he tried his best to match it even when you didn’t always show. This went on for another week before he finally mustered enough courage to make his move.

“Want to grab dinner after this? Am leaving fer a trip tomorrow so I’ve got nothing in the fridge anymore.”

That wasn’t a lie, but why did he make it sound like he usually cooked his own food? He hated cooking.

“Oh, sure. I was planning on getting something too. What were you thinking?”

He made you choose the place and insisted on paying, mumbling something about you picking up the bill next time. While you appeared to be timid, it was evident it was only because you needed the right company. Over the meal, he enjoyed listening to you talk about your interests. You shared a similar taste in films and recommended each other a few titles.

When he revealed his hobby of sketching, you lit up. Upon your request, he showed you some of the drawings he’d made on his phone.

“Oh, these are wonderful!” you cooed, admiring them. “I used to draw when I was younger, nowhere near as well as you though.”

“Maybe we can sketch together.”

“I must be really rusty by now.” You let out a small laugh, handing his phone back to him. “Unless you want to teach me?”

His eyes sparkled. “Of course.”

The conversation drifted to the best restaurants in the area before he told you he was SAS. He vaguely mentioned that he dealt with demolitions, and that he’d be gone for about two weeks. You seemed impressed by this, and he found it adorable how you kept rewording your questions, as if they were going to offend him. He reassured you you could ask anything and he’d tell you what he could.

At the end of the night, he walked you to your door, and you wished him all the best for his mission with the kindest smile. He promised himself he’d be back soon to see it again.

As Johnny drove to base the next morning, still buzzing from the night before, he kicked himself for forgetting to get your number amidst his excitement.

But maybe it was just as well he forgot.

Countless times he’d been described as a mutt by people on base – too eager and impatient. Gaz had told him he pushed women away with his unfiltered enthusiasm. It was a concept he’d never been able to completely grasp: why would you want people to not show you how much they liked you? He knew he preferred that over someone who played games.

But over the years, he’d been rejected and left hanging. Perhaps there was some truth to what Gaz said. Surely, he was willing to accommodate you as to not put you off. He could be patient and match your pace.

So the morning after he came back, he trimmed his stubble to a presentable length (unfortunately he couldn’t do his own hair so the mohawk was still overgrown). He told himself to not look like he missed you too much as he entered the gym. Alas, he couldn’t hide his excitement from the sheer occurrence of seeing you.

“You’re back!“ You grinned before your gaze dropped to his neck.

The tan lines from his throat mic must have looked apparent. It was a recurring problem.

“I am. Hi,” he said, searching your face. He’d missed you.

After a warm up, he picked up a pair of dumbbells.

Next to him, you smiled. “Looking big, Johnny!”

He paused. Was he, even in his oversized shirt? Oh, you were going to make him blush.

“Ye got plans today?” he asked between sets.

“Just need to do my weekly shopping.”

“My mates told me about this place. S’not too far, think you might like it. Also I can give ye a lift. I need to do some shopping myself.”

“Oh, that would be nice. Thanks so much!”

“I feel I should have got yer number so I didn’t hav to ambush you like this.” He shrugged, pulling out his phone.

You laughed, typing your number in. “Don’t worry about it. I got no plans,” you said as you handed it back.

After his shower, Johnny flexed in the mirror. While he was away, more often than not, he would lose weight. Perhaps you meant to say he had more muscle definition, but it didn’t matter. You noticed. You shouldn’t have given him that compliment because he’d spend days thinking about it with a toothy grin.

You emerged out of your flat wearing a shirt, leggings and canvas shoes while he wore a sweater with jeans and boots. Okay, maybe he was a touch overdressed for a quick lunch and a shopping trip, but you looked so sweet in your casual attire, he couldn’t help but smile.

“I watched some of the films you recommended. You have good taste,” you quipped over lunch.

He grinned. “I’ll be sure to recommend more.”

“And I drew again last week. A castle – a bit ambitious, I admit.” You chuckled.

“How did it turn out?”

“Could have been better, but I enjoyed the process. I think it’d be nice if we could draw something together, and maybe you can give me a few pointers.”

You didn’t have to ask twice. “I’m free this afternoon.”

After the trip to the supermarket, Johnny invited you to his place to sketch. Accompanied by tea and biscuits (something he never ran out of due to his chronic sweet-tooth), the event stretched into hours as you chatted and laughed. You were a good student - following diligently and learning fast, but if he was honest, you weren’t half as bad as you said you were in the first place.

As the sky darkened, you excused yourself back home for dinner. He could have offered to cook, but he decided otherwise as he didn’t want to come off too strong (mostly because he wasn’t ready yet to reveal that he lacked the skills to).

Johnny didn’t mean to, but ever since, he made sure to go to the gym the same time you’d be there. You kept each other accountable with your workouts, reminding each other of the agreed schedule. Not like he needed the prodding - getting to see you was all the motivation he needed, but anything for an excuse to talk to you, right? Besides, it was nice when you texted him, letting him know you were heading to the gym. If he let himself fantasise, it was as if you missed him.

You’d workout together two to three times a week. You’d tell him about your day and he’d listen with a grin because why did it feel so good just to be around you? You’d ask about his day in return, and he’d talk about his mates, mostly the silly stories so he could watch you light up with that melodious laughter.

On the days in between if he couldn’t physically wait to see you again, he’d borrow some milk or eggs. If you didn’t have any either- well, I think were due for our weekly run to the supermarket anyway. Don’t worry, he’d help you carry all your shopping like always. What use were his muscles if they weren’t to help you?

Sometimes when the mood struck, you’d sketch together on Saturday afternoon after shopping. It also became a ritual to take you to dinner before his deployments. He didn’t like to show it, but he still had nerves to be calmed even after many years in the job.

When he came back – he didn’t realise it at first, but he hung around at yours as long as you allowed him to stay. Before you, he preferred to lock himself in his flat when things were fresh. It was then he noticed that he’d been falling asleep thinking of you, especially when he was away – his much needed tranquillity in the chaos. He found himself doodling you in his down time.

However, as well as things were going, it didn’t seem like they were progressing. Working out, shopping and the occasional takeout from down the street in hoodies and sweatpants seemed to be the most he could get.

Of course Johnny adored any minute he had with you, even if it was doing mundane activities. There was something weirdly intimate in seeing the everyday you, that you didn’t need anything grand to enjoy each other’s company. It made him warm and fuzzy inside, but he wanted more. You were more than a gym buddy, or someone who lived in his building. He didn’t want to imagine things with you – he wanted them to be real.

Was he not good enough for you? Was he not your type? Did he annoy you with his excuses to see you? He just wanted to feel useful.

“I can drive ye t’yer friend’s later,” he said as he helped to rerack your weights.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“I don’t mind. Will be on my way out fer lunch anyway.”

Later when you answered your door in a pretty dress, he tried to not gape. He’d never seen you dressed up as you were usually in your oversized shirt and leggings when you worked out, or anything comfortable for the shopping trips and humble meals. Still, in any state, you couldn’t get any cuter in his eyes.

When he pulled up at your friend’s, he turned to you. “Let me know if you want me to pick you up, and maybe we can grab dinner after? There’s a place I’ve been meaning to try nearby.”

“I appreciate it, really. But I don’t want to bother you, Johnny. You’ve been way too nice!”

“Is no bother. Got nothing to do today.”

It was his go-to excuse. Innocent, open-ended, welcoming. It served him well - you were always so grateful for any help from him.

He grinned when you nodded. He needed to show you off, especially when you were so cute that day. Later, you thanked him again for picking you up and insisted you pay for dinner, which he agreed to.

While the restaurant had lovely décor and beautiful, warm lighting, it was crowded that Saturday night which meant the service was slow. It didn’t matter though if he could sit there and watch you smile. Oh, you were so sweet in your outfit, your glossy lips pink and soft. If he asked nicely, would you let him hold your hand?

A voice calling for you interrupted his daydreams. You looked up at the figure approaching before a grin broke out on your face.

“Bella! Hi,” you squealed and jumped out your seat to giver her a hug.

He knew Bella. You’ve mentioned her over the months, one of your cousins. You were going to catch a film with her next week.

“What a lovely dress.” She gave you a once over, rubbing your arms before turning to him with a friendly smile. “And who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Johnny, my friend.”

He tried to hide his eye twitch as he forced a smile.

“Ah, nice to meet you.“ She clasped her hands in front of her. “Right, just wanted to say hi. We’re still on next week, yeah?”

“Yes, of course. See you soon!”

She wrapped an arm around you for another squeeze before heading back to her group of friends a few tables over.

With a giggle, you said something about Bella living nearby, but Johnny barely heard it. The fleeting exchange sent a twinge of irritation to his chest.

Friend? If he was fair, he shouldn’t have expected anything other than the generic introduction. Things had been respectful and platonic so far, which he was fine with, so why would you describe him as anything other than a mere friend?

Okay, so you took things slow, perhaps you were even a little oblivious. It was fine - it really was! It was just he wasn’t used to any of this. Much like fireworks, the crushes he’d had were usually explosive with him charging on and ending as fast as they started.

Not you though. You lingered, hiding and burrowing in the nooks and crannies of his chest like an infection. Not like he wanted you to leave, he wished you never would. Whatever this was, he’d been enjoying it, even if it was just the simple act of doing chores with you every Saturday. In fact, it was the highlight of his week. You had grown to be more than a muse, a constant company in his lonesomeness.

Sergeant John Mactavish, a sniper and demolitions expert, had an abundance of patience - usually. He thought he could play along, but perhaps he wasn’t as patient as he thought he was.

When the bill came, he swiftly sent the waiter away with a wad of cash.

“Johnny, you said you’d let me pay!”

“We’re friends. It doesn’t matter who pays,” he said, shoving his wallet back in his pocket. It was immature, but the sarcasm couldn’t help but bleed through.

He didn’t miss the way your gaze dropped. He walked you to your door, but you didn’t say much the rest of the night.

Johnny’s infuriation hadn’t dissipated by Monday morning. If any, it had thickened and hardened and stuck to his teeth.

He couldn’t believe it. Did you earnestly not realise how foul the F word you used was?

He headed to the gym on base the first chance he got – his sanctuary. The frustration that crawled under his skin was the infamous forbidden pre-workout.

“Gaz,” Johnny called as he laid on the bench, in position for a bench press. “Can ye give me a spot, mate?”

Kyle made his way over with an amused smile, standing over him by the heavily loaded bar. “Going for a PR, eh?”

“Aye,” he grunted, gripping the bar, his thumbs tucked back.

“Oi, oi! The fuck you doing, mate!” He smacked his hand.

“Need to feel something,” he said as he repositioned his grip, before puffing his chest up for the set.

Kyle pushed the bar down, preventing his teammate from lifting it off. “Not from the bar crushing your fucking windpipe though, is it?”

Johnny’s arms flailed to his sides. He sighed as he stared blandly at the ceiling. “I think my heart is broken.”

He grimaced. “Did you get dumped? I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

“Ah don’t think… she even sees me as a man.”

“Friendzoned then, innit?”

Johnny had never been friendzoned, because no such thing existed. The term was for cowards who couldn’t take rejections, and he was no chicken. A no was a no, and he never took it to heart.

“Ye know I hate that word.”

“No, no! It’s a good thing. It means there’s still hope.”

His blue eyes sparkled, the first since the dinner. “Wait, really?”

He nodded. “You just need to be clear with your intentions. Be physical, flirt, give her compliments.”

“I thought I’d been doing all that! Also, wasn’t it you who told me I was always too eager?”

“Sometimes when you’re too polite, birds think you’re just being friendly.” He shrugged. “You might need to be a bit bolder to get the point across.”

Was this his green light? He’d waited forever to finally wear his heart on his sleeve.

“If that doesn’t work either, then what’s left is to just be honest. But if she’s not interested, you have to be ready to walk away.”

Poor Kyle – his words fell on deaf ears. With the silly grin on his face, the Scot had stopped listening as he fantasised about shamelessly flirting with you. Oh, he was going to have a mighty good time.

Masterlist Possessive best friend Soap

@tiredmetalenthusiast @sofasoap @astraluminaaa

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miss-vanta-likes-to-write · 7 months ago

Text

"Your mother dreamt of catching fish again." Your brother Autumn said as he walked with you towards the little café near your apartment for brunch. "She's saying that you're pregnant."

You scoffed and turned up your nose, giving him the meanest side eye. If your hangover wasn't so bad, you'd roll your eyes at your superstitious mom. "The ceiling of the veranda is haint blue and she poured a whole box of salt in front of your ex's door to trap her."

Autumn hummed and nodded along, "This is true, but she's hoping and praying you at least get married first."

"Well," you stop in front of the Café door and wait for him to open the door, "My birth control is doing it big, so I don't need to worry."

"So you did take that mohawk guy home last night?" He said as you both entered, "Did you at least take a plan B?"

"My beloved brother, I ate the plan B like a tictac. I am F.N.F, and I'm at the start of my hottest girl summer ever, England edition." You laugh, "I don't have time for babies right now."

Miss Vanta presents: He Canceled Hot Girl Summer.

mdni18+

13 months later...|

Johnny was almost certain that the last year of his life was a fucking nightmare. Him and his team had spent most of that year in safe houses, surviving off MREs, and just generally being somewhere in unhospitable climates and enemy territory. Now that he's been on home soil for a week and Kate has granted them extended leave to pull their lives back together, he couldn't be happier. After catching up on sleep for five days straight, he began his Saturday morning pestering Kyle, John, and Simon into hitting the bar to get as drunk as possible, and maybe just maybe convince a pretty bonnie lass to let him go home with her.

He ended up being successful, and that's how he ended up in a booth, watching a group of women laugh and talk. It was clear that they were pre-gaming, taking pictures and videos, drinking shot after shot of liquor. They were the type of women he went for, lively, sassy, fun, and flirty. It reminded him of the last time a year ago that he was in this bar before being shipped out for the year in hell. He remembers it clearly, a pretty brown girl, long wavy black hair, long pretty nails with glittering gem stones gripping his hair, begging for mercy.

She was a good lay. She sucked his dick like it was the last thing she'd ever get to do, made him keep eye contact with her, and those full lips of hers were soft. When he fucked her, she fucked him back. Some of the things out of her mouth were enough to make him blush, honestly.

"Fuck this pussy like you hate me Johnny." She begged him when he had her bent in half. "Spit in my mouth." And he did. It was a first for him, but when he watched her swallow, the imagery went straight to his dick and made him impossibly hard.

"Fuck" He had groaned as she rode him, his face was pressed into her neck and he bit down hard. "This pussy is mine, fu- fuck jus' 'ike tha," and when he couldn't take it any more he rolled her over and fucked into her with the purpose of making her cum, so he could feel her bear down on him and squeeze him tightly. The sounds she made stayed with him. Each groan, curse, the sound of her pussy the wet 'pap pap pap' of each thrust. She had come so many times that there was a creamy ring around the base of his dick. She scratched him on the back, bit his earlobe, and kissed him deeply. It was downright nasty, all tongue and the clash of teeth, the need to be fucked and to fuck. It was like the coming of two people driven solely on the base instincts to mark and claim each other.

So when she told him, "Make me a cream pie and eat it out of me." He did. He came hard with an animalistic growl. His balls pulsing hard, and his dick flushed red and overly sensitive. After he ate his cum from her swollen and slick pussy she kissed him slurping all of it out of his mouth and swallowing.

The next morning, before the sun was even up, he snuck out of her place. He felt bad, but he had to get back to base so he could leave. Part of him wished he left his number or even his snap chat, but he was out of time, and he didn't want Simon or Captain yelling at him for being late.

"Soap, you good?" Kyle asked, "You've been staring at that table of birds for the last five minutes."

Johnny blinked a few times. He was really lost in thought for a good minute. "Nae, 'm fine."

One of the girls at the table kept looking at him, and she would lean over and talk the other two girls at the table. It looked like they were talking about him and his team, probably going on about who was going to get who in bed. He could go for a fun night cap and sex, maybe even a fling since he was going to be on leave for a bit.

The table of girls erupts into a bunch of shouting and wild gestures. They aren't really speaking English, but it sorta sounds like English but jibberish, too. The girl who is dressed in powder blue with blonde hair stands up and turns to look at Johnny full-on. The girl dressed in black is trying to pull her back into her seat, but powder blue is already marching across the bar towards them.

"Oh boy," Kyle mumbles, "Soap she's looking right at you."

"She's certainly a spit fire." John says, pausing his conversation about updates on his own personal life. He had been saying that his own wife would be back home tomorrow from visiting the States.

Powder blue stopped in front of the table, her hands on her hips. "You're that guy from a year ago!" She shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You ruined my friend's hot girl summer and then just dipped! No number, no Instagram, not even a Facebook message or a whatsapp or a snap chat!"

Johnny squinted his eyes, "I'm sorry, wha?" This girl was crazy. He didn't even recognize her.

The girl in the black had rushed over, doing her best to pull powder blue away, "Aaliyah, what if this isn't even the right guy?"

"It is him! I remember the stupid mohawk she liked, and look at that hair color! It's the exact same as Omari!"

Kyle chokes on his laughter at the mohawk jab and tries to diffuse the situation, "Ladies, I'm sure there's no need to cause a scene."

Powder blue, who is now known as Aaliyah, huffed and shoved her phone into Johnny's face, "Do you remember this girl?"

He squinted his eyes, "I really don't remember much from a year ago as I was drunk around this time." He looked at the picture and was confronted by that pretty brown girl that turned him out.

It was an Instagram photo of him drinking a body shot off her. Kyle was in the picture, his face buried in the chest of the girl who he recognized as the one standing with Aaliyah. That part of the night was hazy at best, absolutely blackout at worst. Aaliyah then yanked the phone away from him and swiped furiously before finding what she was looking for. The next picture he saw was of his pretty brown girl, posted up in a hospital bed holding a bairn that had his hair and was a perfect mix between his own skin tone and his mother's.

Johnny felt like he was going to be sick to his stomach. "Wha 'm I lookin' at?"

Aaliyah crosses her arms, "Your son Omari Malachi Knights. A year ago, you ruined my best friend's hot girl summer."

The world felt like it was spinning, and Johnny suddenly didn't feel like drinking anymore. His stomach was queasy, and he could distantly hear Gaz, John and Simon trying to figure out what exactly was being said. He tasted bile in his mouth and leaned over and threw up on Aaliyah's open toed shoes.

Fuck

A/N: Special thanks to @evergreenlake cause we are writing secret child tropes together! Go check out hers called "And fate was on his side." it features Price x Reader. I'm gonna try doing comedy with this trope because it seems like it would fit with Johnny.

F.N.F means fuck n*gga free it's a song by Glorilla.

Reader comes from a superstitious southern family. She's living in England with her brother Autumn.

Series Master list

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stareiiez · 3 months ago

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Invincible Masterlist

𝕾inister Invincible Variant

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝘣𝗹𝗎𝙧𝘣𝙨

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ bloody eater

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ civilian au

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ begrudging threesome antics ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀( feat mohawk )

𝕳eadcap 𝕴nvincible Variant

You're Mine, Now and Forever

ch 1 ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ch2

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝘣𝗹𝗎𝙧𝘣𝙨

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ crybaby

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀pedal to the metal

𝕸ohawk 𝕴nvincible Variant

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝘣𝗹𝗎𝙧𝘣𝙨

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀civilian au

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀1.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀2. ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ 3.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ exhibitionist whore

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ cucking my variant

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ throne sex

𝕲oggleless Invincible Variant

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝘣𝗹𝗎𝙧𝘣𝙨

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ hit me harder

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀LOVE ME

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀virgin kink

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀good dog

𝕺mni- Invincible Variant

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝘣𝗹𝗎𝙧𝘣𝙨

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ just a toy

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀civilian au

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀virgin territory

𝕱ully-masked/ Dark invincible

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝘣𝗹𝗎𝙧𝘣𝙨

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ lover boy ⠀part 2

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ civilian au

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝕸ark Grayson

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝘣𝗹𝗎𝙧𝘣𝙨

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ catnip

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀cucked by my variant

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ dry humping losers ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ pt 2

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ coffee talk

Shiesty Invincible

fuck boy shenanigans

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ All Variants Scenarios

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᵃnon ʳequestˢ

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ nsfw alphabet

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀lapdances for the boys

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀No Nut November

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀father of the year ?

#ch: invincible #invincible masterlist

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r473n · 12 days ago

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BLEACH SMUTFEST 2025

DAY 1: AU

Mayuri x Kenpachi x reader (kinda)

Modern Gang AU

In a world of violence and territory wars, there's very little time for love.

But even at the darkest hour, beautiful connections can still blossom...

... or reader gets Zaraki and Mayuri to do it!

Link to Ao3 or click more!

+18 ONLY below the cut!!!

Tw: drugs, stabbing, blood, anal sex, rimming, voyeurism

You’re working behind the bar of the Kuchiki family restaurant, too engrossed in cleaning and tidying up to register much of the outer world.

It’s been a boring day and all you really want is to catch up with the guys, but you need to tend to your responsibilities first.

Two big and burly men enter and sit down on the stools.

“Hiya!” You greet them with a tired smile. “I'm sorry, we’re five minutes to closing so I can only do a quick drink for you guys, no cocktails or food, I'm afraid.”

One of them engages you in small talk - how a quick drink is all they need tonight, what a lovely weather you’re recently having, how they used to come to this pub years ago... blah, blah, blah. There’s something about the other customer that bugs you, he’s quietly looking around, but you don’t want to seem rude so you follow the conversation and nod and laugh at the right times.

You turn your back to them to serve the drinks and immediately regret it. Both men jump the bar, one goes to the small office, the other immobilises you against his chest, his hand pressed against your mouth.

You try to squirm free and instinctively bite down on his fingers until he let’s go of you, yelping in pain.

“ZARAKI!!!” You scream at the top of your lungs, drowning him out. “ZARAK-“

Your breath hitches in your throat as a knife sinks into your flesh, as easily as if you were made of air. Once, twice, three times.

You look down in shock, a rapidly growing circle of blood staining your apron. And it’s only when you try to scream again that you feel the pain, a sharp pang that spreads from the wound to your spine and has you doubled down in agony.

Enter Zaraki Kenpachi, six-foot-seven tall giant made of raw muscle and masculinity. A long, nasty scar running down the side of his face, long black hair falling down his back. He wears his suit trousers tight, and his white shirt unbuttoned at the top.

Even those who don’t know of his bloody reputation scurry in fear when they see his menacing looks.

Then a thud and a growl and feet scrambling to find purchase on the tiled floor in their haste to run away. The thugs manage to escape, mostly unscathed, having failed in their mission to steal valuable information on the movements of the Kuchiki clan, one of the most influential gangs of the underworld.

Zaraki's calloused fingers lift your chin. “Are you ok- oh, shit!” he sees the blood and turns to grab a cloth. “Hold this against the wound, harder.” You comply and the next instant you’re being lifted bridal style and rushed through the back door, down four flights of stairs and into the basement, where you lose consciousness.

“Now, how many times do I have to tell you to STOP BOTHERING ME?!” Kurotsuchi's angry voice can be heard the moment Zaraki storms through the door. He’s somewhere there, beyond the thick plastic curtains, in amongst the multiple tanks, tubs of chemicals and machines.

“Where the fuck are you, Kurotsuchi!?” Zaraki’s anxiety is palpable. He takes you to the operating table. The one where he himself lies down often, to have bullets and shrapnel cut out from his body. “KUROTSUCHI!”

“I'm here... You don’t have to be that loud, barbarian, I'm not that deaf.” Mayuri approaches leisurely, his lab coat doing nothing to hide just how eccentric he is. Short and thin, wearing ripped skinny jeans and black doc martens, his blue nails and spiked up mohawk only add to the grunge vibe of all his piercings and body mods. “What do you want?” he asks, unaware still, eyes on his phone, thumbs flying over the keyboard.

“What the fuck do you think I want? Help me!”

That gets his attention, he looks up and all the colour drains from his face despite the goth make-up that normally conceals most of his expressions.

“You moron! Why didn’t you say anything!” he throws himself at you, his eyes scanning your body. “Help me take their clothes off!”

“Uh? What... uh... I don’t know about that.”

“How the hell am I supposed to fix them otherwise, you pea-brained troglodyte?” Mayuri scoffs, slicing your top open with a pair of scissors. “There’s nothing sexual about this, so stop covering your eyes and HELP ME.”

For over an hour, the two men work in semi-silence, Mayuri gives the orders and demands instruments be handed over; Zaraki swears and curses under his breath, but does what he’s told.

At the end, Mayuri has managed to stop the bleeding, suture your lacerations and has left an almost invisible scar across your abdomen.

“Huh... now what?” Zaraki asks in a whisper.

“Now we wait for the anaesthesia to wear off.”

“Will they be ok?”

Mayuri seems to hesitate before flashing him an angry scowl. “They would be grand if you had done your job in the first place!”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, aren’t you head of security? Isn’t it your duty to keep us all safe? What were you doing?”

“For your information I was through in the restaurant having a well-deserved drink after a fucking long day!”

“Well-deserved? How absurd! You don’t deserve anything for doing the bare minimum.”

“The bare min-? You’re one to talk! You hide here in your creepy lab making drugs and think you’re a big, tough man, when I'm the one risking my neck every day. It’s fucking rough out there! I don’t see you making sure our borders are respected, making sure no other gangs try to sell in our turf, or standing in front of Lord Kuchiki when some fucker tries to take him out!”

“Yuk! You don’t have to call him Lord when he can’t hear you. I know fair well you despise the man as much as I do.”

“Huh! Yeah, that may be. But, how do I know he’s not got the whole place bugged? I ain’t risking my job.”

“Trust me, there are no bugs in my lab. I’d know, I check daily.”

“Tsk, only you would be that paranoid.”

“Call it what you will, I like to be prepared.” You twitch in your sleep, mumbling something incoherent. Mayuri directs his attention to the multiparameter, to ensure everything is still under control. “You should go home, Zaraki, they might not wake for a few hours.”

“What about you? Aren’t you exhausted after all that?”

“I'm always exhausted.” Mayuri sighs, stretching his arms over his head, his spine cracking. “Perks of the job.”

“Here.” Zaraki stands behind him and starts to massage his sore shoulders.

“Wha- what are you doing?”

“Stop wriggling, I'm trying to help you relax.”

Kurotsuchi considers arguing further, not one to normally enjoy physical touch, but it feels so good. Zaraki squeezes and rubs his tight muscles with ease, making quick work of the knots on his upper back. “You have very good hands...” he praises reflexively.

“Imagine what else they can do...”

His eyes fly open. Is that man flirting with him? “Huh... I bet they’d feel good in other places, too.”

Zaraki barks a gruff laugh. “Wanna check for yourself?” he purrs seductively in his ear.

“You guys... get a room.” You mutter weakly. Your body feels heavy and tired, but Mayuri’s chemical expertise ensures you’re mostly pain free.

The two men rush to your side, worried faces that make you want to laugh with fondness.

“Are you ok?” Zaraki asks.

“You've lost some blood, so you will feel a little drowsy, but your wounds should heal in a few weeks.” Mayuri interjects before you can answer. “How’s the pain?”

“I don’t feel much, whatever you’ve given me is some gooood shit.”

The scientist smirks at you, gold crowns glistening in the dim light. “I only create the best shit.”

You smile and put your hand on his arm. “So... where were you guys? Please don’t stop on my account.”

“Uh? We weren’t anywhere.” Zaraki frowns, confused.

“Not true.” You retort. “You were just about to make out.”

Both men recoil, blushing intensely. Mayuri being the first to clear his throat to reply. “Nonsense, I wouldn’t touch this idiot with a 10-foot pole.”

“Oi! I'm a fucking catch, I'll have you know!” the hitman complains.

You titter softly, feeling your sutures strain a little. “Oh, come on... I almost died just then, do it for me?”

“What do you think I am? A for hire whore?” Mayuri shakes his head no in disbelief.

“No one would pay for that, Kurotsuchi.” Zaraki chuckles, “You want us to make out... to make you feel better?”

You nod your head. “Pretty please?”

The truth is, you’ve been trying to get the two men to lower their defences and finally give in to their feelings for each other for months now. But they are just so incredibly stubborn that, no matter what you try, they always end up bickering and ruining the moment.

They look at each other, wondering if they’ve lost their mind.

“I'm willing if you are.” Zaraki shrugs.

“Oh, please... hold back your enthusiasm.” the scientist rolls his eyes. Zaraki wrenches him by the lapel of his lab coat and crashes their lips together in a brutal kiss, all teeth and vexation.

You want to squeal with glee!

It only takes a few seconds for Mayuri to melt into it and stop struggling, his hands find the back of Zaraki’s neck and pull him down to deepen the kiss, tongues coming out to play.

A while later they separate, lips swollen red and cheeks flushed.

“Is that... uh... was that enough?” Mayuri stammers, averting his gaze and shuffling to conceal the bulge in his crotch.

“I'm afraid not.” You reply, grinning mischievously. “I feel like you guys didn’t really put your everything into it, you know?” You slide your hand beneath the hem of your trousers to rub circles over your clit.

“Oh, shit...” Zaraki’s hungry eyes follow every one of your movements. “Fuck, Kurotsuchi, what the hell have you given them?”

“Nothing!” Mayuri squeals defensively. “Only analgesia, this level of randiness has nothing to do with me!”

“I'm not the only one with a boner right now, look at yourselves, boys.” You say, nodding at their respective obvious erections.

“Huh... who would have thought you were such a freak...” Zaraki lets out an amused laugh. “You get off on watching, uh? And I always thought you were just a little innocent creature.”

“I am... until I'm not!” you answer with a giggle.

“This is ridiculous! We’re not going to have sex in front of you just to satisfy your voyeuristic kink!” Mayuri huffs, crossing his hands over his chest.

“Why not? It’s hot.” Zaraki’s sneaks a hand around his waist and pulls him flush with his chest. “Been wanting to do this for a while now, why waste the chance.”

Mayuri pretends to struggle, but he can’t fool you. The way he looks at Kenpachi when he thinks no one is watching... he’s been thirsting for that man and you can’t blame him.

One kiss turns into many, and both of them seem to forget about the world. A blur of hands groping and exploring, tugging at clothes until they are bare. Zaraki is devouring the smaller man’s neck, turning him into a panting, sighing mess. Mayuri lets himself be manhandled onto a nearby desk, his nails carving pink tracks on Zaraki’s muscular back.

“Be careful! Those beakers are expensive!” he gripes.

As a wordless answer, Zaraki swipes a large hand over the table, knocking everything off it and pushes him flat against the surface. “I don’t give a fuck. You got lube?”

“Why on earth would I carry lube with me?”

“Tsk, fine.”

Zaraki kneels down and buries his face between his legs, dragging his tongue all around his ass, licking and slurping until he’s covered in spit, stretching him with one, two, three fingers. When it looks like the scientist can’t take much more before cumming, Kenpachi stands back up, and hiking his ankles up to his shoulders, he breaches him in one slow thrust. In to the hilt he stops, allowing both of them a moment to adjust, before he sets up a lively rhythm that soon grows into a frantic smacking of his hips against Mayuri’s ass.

Their pants and moans go in crescendo as does their desire. You are absolutely drenched, fingering yourself in synchronicity with their thrusts, rubbing your clit with your thumb.

They hold onto each other for dear life as they approach their orgasm. Kurotsuchi goes first, after begging him to go harder, throwing his head back and releasing a dirty moan, his cock twitching and spurting thick ropes of cum all over his chest. Zaraki follows shortly after, hammering his hips faster and faster until he bursts inside him with a deep grunt.

The debauched show has your pussy contracting unsatisfactorily around your fingers, you wish you could orgasm with them, but your body is much too tired for it. You let out a resigned sigh and smile, watching them stare into each other’s eyes as they come down from their high.

“That was so cute.” You chirp, if only to watch them blush once again.

“Cute? Way to make a man feel small.” Zaraki chuckles, pulling out slowly.

“There was absolutely nothing cute about that. Your performance was adequate.” Mayuri’s attempt at regaining his composure, cum dribbling down his legs as he breathlessly searches for his underwear, is completely risible.

“Adequate? That’s even worse!” Zaraki whines, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“It was fine!” Kurotsuchi grumbles, pulling his top over his head. “Some minor details that we can refine over time, that’s all.”

“Over time?” You shout excitedly. “That mean there’s going to be more of this?”

“None of your business!” the shorter man retorts. “It’s not like you’re invited.”

Zaraki winks at you. “I mean, we kinda owe them.”

“Ugh! Whatever. But not until they’ve healed. You two aren’t messing with my sutures!” Kurotsuchi finally concedes.

“Can I participate too?” You don’t know where you get the cheek to even pose the question, but you can’t help but feel a little giddy when both men stare questioningly at each other and then hungrily at you.

“Maybe.” They say in unison.

#bleachsmutfest2025 #mayuri kurotsuchi #kenpachi zaraki #kenmayu #zaraki kenpachi #kurotsuchi mayuri

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