#Toga clocks it

[firey-passion]

Deal Making (Part/Chapter 2)

Shigaraki was going over his corkboard worth of information, he was more specifically going over all the information he currently had on Endeavor. Until suddenly the world goes black and white. Shigaraki looked around quickly, trying to find out what exactly was happening. Did a hero find them and do this? The cause of this quickly revealed himself. 

“Well, it's been a week. When am I actually going to be able to possess your body?” Bill questioned, seeming to be annoyed at how things are going. 

“Oh, hey Bill. Sheesh, warn a guy next time, okay? I was about ready to throw a right hook.” Shigaraki said, leaning against the wall and taking a breath. “Now, when it comes to possessing my body…well, how about right now? I'm honestly just doing busy work; it can put it on hold.” He offered, which seemed to immediately please the demonic triangle. 

“Fantastic!” Bill exclaimed, extending his hand for a handshake. Shigaraki raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m still not really a fan of handshakes.” Shigaraki said teasingly, offering his pinkie in a “pinkie-promise”. Bill didn't complain and accepted the “promise”, pulling Shigaraki out of his body and moving into it. 

Shigaraki looked at himself in this new form. He couldn't help but notice a shade of blue encompassing him, along with the lack of consistent pain. It was actually kinda nice, freeing. Bill, on the other hand, seemed to not be doing well with his side of this agreement. He quickly fell to the ground, gritting his teeth as a way to cope with the immediate all-encompassing pain. 

“What…the hell is this?!?!” Bill asked angrily, Shigaraki noticed that his voice hadn't changed much despite possessing his body (though it did sound as though his throat was a bit sorer). 

“What-” Shigaraki started before stopping, noticing how his voice was suddenly much lower and clear, apparently his body was the cause of his kinda crummy voice, he shook his head and continued on, “What do you mean?”

“Why the HELL can't I use your body properly?!” Bill elaborated, even more pissed that he has to even explain what he meant. 

“Uhm, I don't really know? Might be the chronic pain…” Shigaraki started, somewhat thinking aloud. 

“You have chronic pain?! Why the hell didn't you tell me!?” Bill snapped angrily. 

“I didn't think it would be an issue! I figured that since my body would be used to it by now that you'd be fine.” Shigaraki answered defensively, putting his hands up in a “I surrender” way. 

“Yeah, well, that's clearly not the case now isn't it!!!” Bill continued to snap, causing Shigaraki to roll his eyes. 

“Oh please, it's not that bad. This is just how I feel daily.” Shigaraki said indignantly. 

“Yeah, speaking of, how?!?! This sucks, how the hell could you even get out of bed like this?!” Bill integrated, finally trying to stand up…he wasn't really succeeding. 

“I don't know, I just have been. The pain has kinda faded into the background, for the most part anyway. Some days are worse than others of course but-” Shigaraki started to explain, before being interrupted. 

“THIS COULD BE WORSE!?!?!?!?” Bill practically screeched, causing Shigaraki to cover his ears. 

“Yeah, it could? I haven't even had any recent injuries, not even a stab from Toga.” Shigaraki explained a bit, confused by the reaction. 

“How, the hell, are you alive? How do you even function like this?” Bill asked, finally toning his voice down. 

“I don't know, I just have? I wasn't exactly given many options.” Shigaraki answered bitterly, he always hated those types of questions. He didn't like thinking about how his mind or body worked, all things considered. 

There was a knock on the “door” that got both of their attention. 

“Uh, boss, you okay? Never heard you scream like that before.” Spinner asked on the other side of the door. 

“Uh, y-yeah. I'm fine.” Bill lied, getting an eyebrow raise from Shigaraki. 

“You can't even walk, why would you lie about being okay?” He questioned, a little confused about this decision. 

“Shut. Up.” Bill muttered angrily. 

“I…don't believe you. You don't typically scream unless you have a damn good reason for it. I'm coming in.” Spinner replied, moving the sheet that was acting as a door out of the way. Coming in to see Shigaraki's body on the floor. 

“Uh…why are you on the floor?” Spinner reasonably questioned, very confused. 

“No reason, no reason at all.” Bill muttered bitterly. 

“Is this…is this what's going to happen when Bi- you possess boss's body?” Spinner asked, instantly catching on. 

“What? No, what makes you think I'm possessed?” Bill asked, trying to play it off. Shigaraki got even more confused by this. 

“They, they already know about this part of the agreement. Why are you lying about this?” He questioned. 

“Well for starters,” Spinner started, squatting down to Bill's level, “even on boss’s worst days, he doesn't typically writhe on the floor. He also doesn't have some odd voice echoing effect. And finally, he doesn't have yellow eyes with cat eye slits.” He continued, stating each fact as though it was immovable as the sky itself. Shigaraki couldn't help but laugh at how well Spinner was able to read the situation and how he instantly cornered Bill with all the information. 

“...Okay yeah, it's me. It's Bill.” He conceded, clearly finding that lying would get him absolutely nowhere. 

“Would you like me to pick you up, so you can get to the living area and converse with the other league members?” Spinner offered empathetically. 

“...Yeah, yeah that would be best.” Bill mumbled, really bitter about the situation he's finding himself in. 

Spinner scooped him up into his arms, with Bill instinctively gripping onto his shoulder with the sudden action. 

“Woah, okay! That's something.” Bill said, clearly flummoxed with the situation. 

“Careful!” Shigaraki panicked, focusing on his quirk and what could happen. He was so happy that he was wearing gloves that day. 

“Uh, you good to be moved?” Spinner asked, wanting to make sure that he wouldn't start squirming when he got walking. 

“Yes, I'm fine! Just, not used to being held.” Bill answered, taking a few breaths. 

Spinner went into the living area, with Shigaraki following behind, and set Bill in Shigaraki's body (Billaraki) onto the couch, with Toga having to move to allow this to happen. She went ahead and sat on the table instead, seeming a bit concerned. 

“Is he alright? What happened?” Toga questioned quickly, worried about the situation at hand. 

“He's fine, it's just…well, Bill's possessing his body right now and apparently the chronic pain is really getting to him.” Spinner explained, seeming concerned himself. 

“The pain is enough to get him to collapse like that?” Mr. Compress questioned, seeming confused about how the pain could be this bad. He was currently on the plush chair. 

“Yup, literally collapsed when I possessed this body.” Bill explained, seeming to be rather happy to no longer be on the floor. 

“That's…concerning, to say the least.” Mr. Compress said, “Uhm, on a scale from 1-10 how would you rate your pain?”

“Uh, 7 I guess.” Bill answered, getting an eye roll from Shigaraki. As far as he was concerned it was like, a 3 on most days. “Don't roll your damn eyes at me, your body's shit.” He hissed out, clearly pissed. 

“Can you still see Shigaraki when he, presumably, out of his body?” Kurogiri asked, causing Bill to jump a bit. He wasn't used to Kurogiri's odd ability to just, appear wherever he felt needed. 

“Uh, yeah, I can. He's currently in the mindscape right now, just the realm between the waking and the resting. He's basically a ghost, besides the whole being dead thing.” Bill answered, Shigaraki couldn't help but feel like he was making a few references to things that didn't fully click for him. 

“Honestly, I don't get what your issue is with being in this place. This is great!” Shigaraki said quite happily, floating about as though he didn't have a care in the world. 

“Easy for you to say when your body is absolute trash.” Bill snapped, not appreciating his motives being questioned. 

“Maybe we should start making it a note to try and steal some ibuprofen for the pain?” Mr. Compress suggested, clearly worried about how bad the pain seemed to really be. 

“Wait, hang on, no! Pharmacies have decent security, there's no way we wouldn't be caught quickly!” Shigaraki panicked, not wanting to take unnecessary risks. 

“Yeah, not that great being in the mindscape now is it!” Bill laughed, giving a grin to finally cause some stress here. 

“Let me guess, boss is objecting to us getting him pain meds?” Spinner asked, getting a nod from Bill, “Yeah, that sounds about right for him. He's always so damn stubborn about being fine even when he clearly isn't.”

“Shiggs, listen, if you get pain meds, you'll be able to function better because your body isn't screaming at you.” Toga explained, hoping that Shigaraki would listen to reason. He just mumbled angrily, knowing that Toga was right but still not wanting to take such a massive risk for something that was “unneeded”. 

“Plus, I am one of the best thieves! It'll be fine, we'll get enough to last us long enough that we won't need to return in months.” Mr. Compress reassured. Shigaraki sighed and conceded defeat about this, not like he could communicate his objections right now anyway. 

“In the meantime I'll go ahead and make some tea, in the past it seemed to help. I am unaware if this will work here, but it's worth a try.” Kurogiri stated, heading towards the area that they designated as a “kitchen” (it had a few pots, pans, kettles, and some ingredients for cooking, it had a little device that uses gas to make a controlled fire). 

“Soooooooooo…what's it like possessing someone else's body?” Toga asked, clearly excited. 

“It's…interesting. I tend to get all the downsides of their body and their mind, if that isn't clear with my current condition. Most of the time it is negligible but…well, as you can see, not this damn time.” Bill explained, not going for his typical inflection. Apparently being in pain can suck a lot of energy out of you, who would've thought? 

“Well that's rather neat! Gives us a better idea of how illnesses and disabilities that tie into the mind really works. What's your body count? In possession of cour- well…you can share kill count as well if you want!” Toga asked, keeping the conversation going. 

“Hm, well, that's a rather large count. First there was the shaman, he got antsy when seeing how my pals like to party. Exact order gets fuzzy but there was a pharaoh, someone attached to the Aztecs, the easter island statue people, there was a dark warlock, he actually succeeded in fulfilling his end of the deal, but he did it to trap me in some orb! Sooooo, I possessed his phoenix and burned the castle to the ground for the betrayal! Spent some time around Europe and trying to make deals with Vikings and royals. Wasn't able to succeed often though. I possessed some goats to convince those accused of witchcraft to really have that fun! After all, if they were going to suffer either way, might as well have some fun and really do the thing!” At this, Bill let out a manic laugh, with Toga nodding along. 

“Makes sense. Similar boat really. If everyone was going to see me as a monster, I might as well be one!” She cracked, let out a laugh of her own. 

“Any-who, I went on to make deals with the founding fathers of America. They didn't really like my first draft of their silly constitution. I possessed a corpse for a while and started a cult with that one! Then I moved on to animators, musicians, computer scientists, and a mini sculpture. None of those worked out how I planned, an unfortunate reality with working with humans. There was…Sixer…” Bill became quiet for a bit, staring off before coming back to reality and continued on, “He was quite the subject, really! He was absolutely fascinated with me, and why wouldn't he be? I am incredible!” He said with a confident laugh, while Toga tilted her head to examine that statement mentally. 

“There was Pine Tree, he was desperate to get some information and I offered him a deal! He didn't seem too pleased with how things turned out, I told him I wanted a puppet, it's not my fault he didn't ask which until the deal was made! And finally there's Shigaraki, and here we are. So, while not exactly a count, I don't think I can legitimately count the amount of people I've possessed and bargained with! I can't even list everything going on with my kills, there are just far too many!” Bill finished, seeming rather pleased with this. Spinner looked at him with an eyebrow raise. 

“How long have you been at this whole…murder, thing.” He asked, wishing to know just the amount of experience this demon had. 

“Eh, a thousand years give or take.” Bill said with a hand wave, Shigaraki let out an impressed whistle at that. It was always good to have someone so experienced on your side, until they get too arrogant and you have to kill them. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're old and powerful, great job.” Toga said dismissively, causing Bill to sputter a little bit, “Tell me more about this ‘Sixer’ character.” She said while leaning in, clearly invested in what this meant. 

Shigaraki quickly clocked what Toga was thinking and started wondering about it himself. With everyone else he was content to give a descriptor or an insult and move on to the next person. Whoever Sixer was important enough to Bill to pause and think, he was also the only one that he gave even the slightest hint of a compliment in all this. Just who was this guy and how was he important? 

“Well, what is there to say really? We had a great thing going with our deal! I'd be his muse, his star, his everything, and in return he'd build the portal needed to get me and my henchmaniacs out of the nightmare realm! He was both a genius and an idiot, with only a genius being able to figure out how to get the portal right and only an idiot would fall for all my flattery hook-line-and sinker! He sadly got cold feet when his science buddy saw something he shouldn't have and started trying to get out of fulfilling his end of things. Shame, it could've been great if he wasn't chicken shit.” Bill elaborated, Toga nodding along with a grin on his face. Mr. Compress seemed to catch onto the same thing Toga did halfway through the explanation, with Spinner and Shigaraki being the only ones out of the loop. 

“So, you'd say that you and this ‘Sixer’ had a…special bond with each other?” Mr. Compress asked, leaning in as well. 

“I mean, any bond with me would be special! But yes, I suppose you could call it that.” Bill answered, he seemed to be adjusting to the pain. At least well enough to sit up now and not take up the whole coach. 

Kurogiri came back with the tea and set it down on the table near the Bill possessed body, going to stand by the couch to keep an eye on him. 

“Please do be careful, it is hot.” He said in the polite manner he takes up with everyone, or at least everyone who isn't an enemy. 

Bill took the cup of tea up to the mouth of the body, while normally he'd play the ‘not knowing how the human body worked’ bit but considering the parameters of their deal he figured potentially causing a bunch of panic in these flesh bags for a laugh would not be a wise decision. He found that, surprisingly, the tea actually did make him feel better. How the heck does tea do that? Whatever, it's not important. Dabi entered the room, pulling tinfoil out of his hair and the smell of hair dye filling the room.

“Yo, what's up?” He asked, leaning against the back of the coach. 

“Oh hey Dabi! Bill's currently possessing Shiggy's body and we're talking about his ex!” Toga answered with a giggle, causing Bill to choke on his tea. 

“Careful, rather not have my body expire out of something as silly as surprise.” Shigaraki chuckled, getting the stink eye from Bill. 

“I'm sorry, what?! Sixer is not my ex!” Bill snapped angrily, turning a bit red. It was unclear if it was from lack of breath, embarrassment, or rage. 

“Ohohoh Bill…don't try lying to me.” Toga said, starting off with a chuckle before switching to intimidatingly serious. Bill was rather reasonably stunned by this, it's not every day that someone can even slightly see through him after all. 

“Yeah…Toga's pretty good at reading people, it's kinda useful if not a little creepy.” Shigaraki explained with a shrug. Billaraki set his head in his hands and let out a breath of frustration, rather annoyed at being confronted with the…complicated, nature of his relationship with Sixer. 

“I suppose one could call him my ex.” He conceded, not really wanting to give the situation too much thought. This was enough to cause Toga to grin again, going back to being rather joyful. 

“There we go! Hopefully you won't try to lie to me again about these types of things, I'm very good at telling!” She said in an extremely chipper tone. 

“So, how often do you think you'll be doing all this?” Dabi asked. 

Bill hadn't really thought about that, he also figured that Shigaraki didn't either since they didn't talk about it. Guess they had to figure this out now. 

“Eh, once a week should be good. Every other week if we're dealing with busy work.” Shigaraki offered, acting as though he didn't need to put much thought into it. 

“Okay then, once a week apparently.” Bill echoed, since he was the only one who could hear Shigaraki at the moment. 

“That should be fine. Nothing should come up that could cause that to be an issue.” Kurogiri stated. 

“Though if every time you do possess his body, you're going to be screeching like that, I think I'd rather you not possess him at all.” Dabi laughed. 

“Hahahahaha, shut up.” Bill snapped bitterly, finishing his tea and setting the cup on the table. 

“Yeah, yeah. Heard that one before.” Dabi laughed again, rustling Billaraki's hair and then walking off to do his own thing. Bill had to heavily suppress the urge to uppercut. 

“Don't mind him, he's like that with everyone.” Spinner offered, though he doubted that it gave any comfort. 

“Well, except with me.” Mr. Compress bragged, coming off a bit smug but he was primarily just happy. 

“Yeah, yeah. We know, you're the exception.” Toga said with an eye roll. 

Bill sighed and laid back down, finding himself being tired for the first time in a rather long time. Considering the sudden burst of pain, dealing with social interaction, and being read easily for once made everything seem so damn exhausting. Shigaraki looked over at him. 

“Yeah, the league can be exhausting sometimes. That's not even mentioning the sudden spike of pain that you're dealing with now. Maybe we should use the mindscape thingy you have access to give you some practice rounds while interacting with them. I know them well enough to create a project of them in my mind, probably.” Shigaraki offered, hoping to have things go better next time. 

Billaraki just nodded to give his blessing, too tired to deal with much else today. This certainly seems like it was going to be much more difficult than he originally thought.

(Author's Note: Hello again! Finished this fic yesterday but needed some rest before posting it so here it is! I do hope that y'all enjoyed the fic! If you did, go ahead and check out my AO3 account to see more of my writing.)

(Part 1)

[chiquilines]

They will find each other again and again and again, and in one life, they will be happy

[gece-misin-nesin]

honestly? himiko and ochako's climax and ending (aside from himiko dying obvs) was written great. like genuinely that fight is amazing. i DO think their dynamic wasn't set up anywhere near well enough though. the lines are good and all, but they don't have any buildup, they just come out of nowhere. i don't think their dynamic was established very well at first at all, so even though the later parts of it are brilliant, it has a very weak beginning.

for example, ochako saying "im jealous of your smile"? great. why though. where is the buildup. show me HOW this happened.

[heich0e]

nobody asked but i have a very elaborate au in my mind of LOV working at a best buy-esque store and it's very important to me

[oswednesday]

i still have to catch up to the war arc but one thing i dislike about where bnha is at rn is its treating hero and villain as like a state of being? like the person of the past and the person of the present can be separated and if you do x y z you can get that untainted hero person when like everything before this was like heroes are cops acab they create much more violence and suffering than they solve because of capital and imperial desires of like nato like entities and states there are some people whose hearts are in the right place but it never justifies their actions of violence and people who wear hero on their chest murder people they think are lesser without a second thought yet two-four of the most prominent villains are treated with this sort of fantasy d,i,d like utter nonsense!!

[cult-of-husbandos]

yandere!dabi - until he met you

💙🔥 ━ Dabi is no stranger to bringing “strays” over to the league hideout or at some abandoned warehouse to… “play” for the lack of a better word.

💙🔥 ━ The rest of the league don’t really care about Dabi’s sexcapades since the strays he picks up don’t even have the chance to stay long enough to get in the way of anything.

💙🔥 ━ They were used and tossed like a discarded fleshlight after a single use. No repeats.

💙🔥 ━ At maximum, the “playing” would only last 30 minutes. And 29.5 of those minutes are spent on the most hardcore screaming, filthiest, wall-banging sex that even God turns away at what he created the human body for.

💙🔥 ━ Toga calls him a gross fuckboy.

💙🔥 ━ Twice thinks of him as an unhinged sex god that he worships and often sickens him.

💙🔥 ━ Shigaraki doesn’t really give a fuck since he bought noise-cancelling headphones.

💙🔥 ━ As long Dabi isn’t fucking in the common room or where they eat, Dabi could be turning his “playmates” into fried tempura for all he cared.

💙🔥 ━ Now, what happens to these strays before and after the fun depends on Dabi. The strays he takes in either scream in horror once he strips off his disguise and coverings, and when they try to flee, they are quickly dealt with.

💙🔥 ━ And the ones that stay get their brains fucked out and tossed aside with the scars to tell the story.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi’s boredom for new strays is faster than his “love” for them.

💙🔥 ━ Love.

💙🔥 ━ Love was never meant for a Todoroki.

💙🔥 ━ Even the word meant nothing to him. He refuses to become weak and pitiful like his mother or worse–

💙🔥 ━ An abusive bastard like his father.

💙🔥 ━ Love was never meant for Dabi.

💙🔥 ━ Until he caught you.

💙🔥 ━ The moment Dabi met you, you were just like any other stray. All alone. Standing on the corner of a convenient store in clothes that didn’t fit the weather around you. Staring off into the street, completely obviously to your surroundings. Another perfect stray to capture.

💙🔥 ━ What he thought would be another wall-denting, bed-breaking fuck to give him that sprinkle dopamine and oxytocin that distracts him from that feeling that he isn’t a fucked-up person turned into an extreme obsession he couldn’t explain.

💙🔥 ━ At first, he thought he was just the sex.

💙🔥 ━ You were definitely not a selfish lover.

💙🔥 ━ The strays he fucked were prime pillow princesses.

💙🔥 ━ You had this man's knees buckling, toes clenching, back arched so far sweat was dripping onto the bed sheets it turned his bed into a pool.

💙🔥 ━ You were giving this man the sloppiest of toppy.

💙🔥 ━ Each orgasm racked his body and he swore he saw the blinding face of God. He felt like he should be paying you for your service.

💙🔥 ━ He came more with you than with any other stray.

💙🔥 ━ You popped a few of this man’s staples, that’s how amazing you were.

💙🔥 ━ Sex with you was like a drug. So addicting. Just one more hit and he would get bored and move on.

💙🔥 ━ At least… that’s what he thought.

💙🔥 ━ After another night of the most glorious fuck he ever had, he woke up to himself all alone on the cold concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse that you two made into a secret love hotel. That was the silent agreement. You always knew when the fun was over and left without any parting words or hesitation, even at the hideout. None of the members of the league had ever seen you, just heard you. You were like a succubus that disappeared the moment the sun peeked out. That also made you completely different from the others.

💙🔥 ━ As he peeled himself off the cold floor, he noticed a white bag that wasn’t there yesterday. An inviting smell wafted into his nose and he immediately clocked it.

💙🔥 ━ Food. Breakfast. Did you buy this for him?

💙🔥 ━ He saw a post-it note on the container of food and read it: 'Your stomach rumbled when you were asleep. It was so cute! Eat well♡'

💙🔥 ━ This simple act did more to him than any amount of therapy could ever do.

💙🔥 ━ Ever since then, his thoughts revolved around you.

💙🔥 ━ He needed to find you again.

💙🔥 ━ And when he did… he’d cage you up and keep you like the last animal facing extinction.

💙🔥 ━ You were now his and his only.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi had never done this before. He doesn’t know how to reach out to a stray. Once you left, he’d often find you roaming the city out of pure coincidence and hook up then and there. He had no way of reaching out to you. He never asked for contact info or where you lived or what you did throughout the day. He didn’t even know your last name. He didn’t care. Now, he was driving himself crazy waiting for you at the places he often found you. But, you never showed up.

💙🔥 ━ The other members started noticing the sporadic changes he made. He started pacing. Picking at his burned bottom lip until it bled. Talking to himself and asking weird questions about random spots throughout the city. Losing his temper and scorching walls and other objects in the hideout. They had no idea the hold you had on this man. Shigaraki still didn’t care.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi exhausted himself trying to find you.

💙🔥 ━ He found you while on his search. You were sleeping on a park bench in a barely-lit section of the park. Wearing the same clothes you always wore. Clothes that didn’t fit the weather. No blanket. Nothing to protect yourself. Painfully obvious to your surroundings.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi felt like his heart was going to burst.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi approached you like a predator hunting for his food. The park is completely empty. No one around to witness. He nudged you awake, taking mental pictures as you stirred and blinked tiredly.

💙🔥 ━ You thought it was just another cop telling you you can’t sleep here. But, it wasn’t a cop. It was Dabi.

💙🔥 ━ In his black hoodie and mask pulled down to his chin. Crouched down to your level. He had an unbridled wide smile. You’d never seen it before.

💙🔥 ━ Not this wide.

💙🔥 ━ “Found you, baby~”

💙🔥 ━ “Hm? …Oh, hey Dabi…” you greeted, wiping the sleepiness from your eyes. “What’re you doing here? Are you okay?”

💙🔥 ━ Dabi couldn’t stop the waterfall of words and accusations coming from his mouth. He couldn’t stop himself. Everything from how you couldn’t run away from him to why you were avoiding him to who were fucking besides him. You are his. No one else's. Dabi didn’t mean any of the words he was saying, but he couldn’t stop it. It was like a dam that broke that was within the city limits. Nothing could stop it. It got to the point where he wasn’t making any sense. Like every thought was getting into a car wreck build-up and debris is just flying.

💙🔥 ━ “You hate me, don’t you?! I’m just a fuck to you, huh?! Running away from me! I’ll break you! I’ll kill you! You’re nothing! No one would notice! It would be so easy… Ashes… Is that why you're here? To fuck someone else?! Did they leave you like a cum dumpster? Who was it? Why aren’t you saying anything? ‘Cuz I’m right, aren’t I?! No one can fuck you like me! Is that all you are?! A fuck?! Fuck you! You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!You’re mine!”

💙🔥 ━ You could barely hang on to his words. They just kept coming and it didn’t help that you just woke up.

💙🔥 ━ Dabi was gripping onto you so tightly, almost like you were going to disappear from his sight like a ghost. Your arms started to ache where he was gripping. You looked down and saw his hands.

💙🔥 ━ They were shaking.

💙🔥 ━ Then, you looked up and took a good look at his face.

💙🔥 ━ Sadness. Anger.

💙🔥 ━ Fear.

💙🔥 ━ Taking a good look now, his whole body was shaking as he just repeated himself over and over and over again.

💙🔥 ━ You gently grabbed his face and he immediately stopped.

💙🔥 ━ He stared at you with unknown certainty. Your face had a sullen expression. His stomach dropped to his ass as his rambling finally caught up with him. For once, his words were caught in his throat. He wanted to apologize. Beg for forgiveness. But, he couldn’t.

💙🔥 ━ Would you leave him? Scream and run away like everyone else in his life? Would you see him as a monster? Would he look like his father in your eyes?

💙🔥 ━ Would you look like his father in his?

💙🔥 ━ But, you didn’t.

💙🔥 ━ You rested your temple on his.

💙🔥 ━ “I’m sorry for leaving you alone. You must’ve been scared.”

💙🔥 ━ Boom. Just like that, you flipped his switch.

💙🔥 ━ If Dabi was capable of crying, he’d be a sobbing mess. However, just because he couldn’t cry doesn’t mean his body doesn’t follow suit. Choked sobs left his throat as he held you close, loosening his grip on your arms a tiny bit, but still holding you close.

💙🔥 ━ “Y-You… I-”

💙🔥 ━ “Yes yes. I’m yours. I won’t go anywhere until you tell me to.”

💙🔥 ━ He didn’t want to let you go.

💙🔥 ━ He refused to let you go.

💙🔥 ━ “You ever run away from me, I’ll burn this fucking place to the ground.”

💙🔥 ━ “I don’t like running. It makes me sweat.”

💙🔥 ━ When the other members of the league start seeing you around for the first time, it was surprising.

💙🔥 ━ Like stated before, Dabi’s strays didn’t stay long at the LOV hideout. Yet here you were. Glued to Dabi’s side.

💙🔥 ━ “She’s going to be staying here. Don’t like it, you can suck my dick.”

💙🔥 ━ “Hi.”

💙🔥 ━ “Don’t talk to shit, Y/N. It's gross.”

💙🔥 ━ Dabi also wasn’t shy about showing others his graphic PDA.

💙🔥 ━ Making out, groping, rubbing, bite marks, hickeys, etc.. Anything to mark you as his property.

💙🔥 ━ Before the others knew it, you’ve been there for nearly a month!

💙🔥 ━ The rest of the league couldn’t believe it. They didn’t know a damn thing about you! Anytime you were in the vicinity with any of the others, Dabi would shield you away and rush you off back to his room. Like some doll, you weren’t allowed to even say a single word to anyone else or do anything. They wanted to talk to you!

💙🔥 ━ Luckily for Shigaraki and Twice, the opportunity couldn’t have come at a better time.

💙🔥 ━ The two of them walked into the cooking area one morning after a delicious aroma spread throughout the hideout. That’s where they saw you without Dabi by your side. Making something over the stove. They both gave a quick survey to their surroundings and cautiously approached you.

💙🔥 ━ “Um… hello?” Twice is the first to talk to you.

💙🔥 ━ “Hi.” You barely glanced up at them to greet them, too focused on what you were making.

💙🔥 ━ “Sooo… whatcha makin’?”

💙🔥 ━ “Jumbo Super Fluffy Pancakes.”

💙🔥 ━ Welp. That was it.

💙🔥 ━ You sure don’t talk much.

💙🔥 ━ Whether that was due to Dabi’s influence or social ineptitude, you didn’t leave much of an impression outside Dabi’s bedroom.

💙🔥 ━ Shigaraki and Twice watched as you stirred batter in a bowl and flip pancakes simultaneously with little to no emotion or speak. You’re already in Shigaraki's good graces in that regard, but he needed to know something.

💙🔥 ━ “What’s your deal?”

💙🔥 ━ “Woah Shiggs!”

💙🔥 ━ “No, seriously. Is it just the sex or are you, like, insane? Or maybe just severely mentally ill?”

💙🔥 ━ “…”

💙🔥 ━ “…”

💙🔥 ━ “… Okay, yeah, I wanna know too. I gotta bet goin’ on with Toga. Is he actually good or are you just a really confident person with amazing acting skills?”

💙🔥 ━ “…Does there need to be a reason other than sex?”

💙🔥 ━ “With Dabi? Yes.” Shigaraki answered.

💙🔥 ━ “Absolutely. 1000%.” Twice added.

💙🔥 ━ “Well, you’re wrong.” you answered nonchalantly, pouring new batter on the pan. “There’s more to Dabi than just his abs, gorgeous eyes, rough hair, and 9 inch dick.”

💙🔥 ━ “9 INCHES?!!”

💙🔥 ━ “So, what is it?”

💙🔥 ━ You stared at the pancake mix cooking in the pan for a moment and looked up.

💙🔥 ━ “He makes me happy.”

💙🔥 ━ You answered simply, leaving the two members stunlocked.

💙🔥 ━ “He… makes you… happy?”

💙🔥 ━ “Mhm.”

💙🔥 ━ “Dabi? Makes you happy? Dabi?”

💙🔥 ━ “Extremely.” You had a faint smile on your lips.

💙🔥 ━ The two of them stood shocked as they watched you flip pancakes in silence. How could that… that… burn-ward victim with beef jerky stapled on him make you happy?! If it wasn’t the sex or his… above average organ… then what was it?! His personality?! That’s impossible! The moment Dabi stepped foot into the hideout, Shigaraki couldn’t stand him! So, how could you?

💙🔥 ━ “HOW?!” Shigaraki exacerbated. He had to know.

💙🔥 ━ As you slid the final pancake onto the plate and grabbed the bag of powdered sugar, you faced the two men.

💙🔥 ━ “Did Dabi tell you about my quirk?”

💙🔥 ━ “Well, I like the way my skin feels and how my body doesn’t crumble to ash, so no. I get enough of that with my quirk.”

💙🔥 ━ “Yeah, and Dabi gets this crazed “I’ll-murder-you-and-use-the-ashes-as-coffee” twitch in his eye whenever we glance at you.”

💙🔥 ━ You moved over to the wooden counter space connected to the stove and hovered your hand over the counter. Slowly, a drop of liquid dangled from your finger. The liquid dropped onto the counter and Shigaraki and Twice watched as the liquid started to… bubble? The bubbling liquid spread and sizzled and they watched as it ate at the counter right in front of their eyes, leaving a bullet-sized hole in the counter.

💙🔥 ━ “Wooooahhh.” They gasped in amazement.

💙🔥 ━ “You have an acid quirk?”

💙🔥 ━ “Close. It’s a cyanide quirk.”

💙🔥 ━ “Cyanide?!”

💙🔥 ━ Shigaraki and Twice backed up a bit.

💙🔥 ━ “Relax. I can control it easily now. Growing up, not so much.” You dusted the pancakes with powdered sugar and gave two plates to the members. “I was actually homeless when I met Dabi. You can’t get a job with a volatile quirk. Did you know that if you have a life-threatening quirk and don’t put it on your resume, you get wrestled to the ground, gagged, and shoved into an iron-ledded holding cell?”

💙🔥 ━ “I… did not know that…” Twice answered.

💙🔥 ━ “Well, that’s what happens. Then, you get like some flag on your person so whenever someone does a background check on you, they can immediately turn you away. It doesn’t matter if you're fit for the job or need money to eat or pay rent or that you got kicked out your house at 13. You’re a monster. A freak. A lonely dog covered in fleas and mange that no one wants to look at.”

💙🔥 ━ “Join the club.” Shigaraki sighed. He knew that feeling all too well, living on the streets as a young child and having the same people who preached that they care to avoid his gaze and calls for help.

💙🔥 ━ “It’s why I take extra precautions with my quirk. I try not to sweat too much, I wear clothing that’s least likely to get damaged, and I stay away from people. Until Dabi.”

💙🔥 ━ Shigaraki and Twice shared a look as they saw the lovey-dovey hearts in your eyes. As they munched on your surprisingly amazing pancakes, they saw what the two of you shared. What made you want to stay despite his disgusting monopolization of you.

💙🔥 ━ It’s love.

💙🔥 ━ “You… really love him, huh?”

💙🔥 ━ “More than anything in the world.”

💙🔥 ━ “You what more than anything in the world?”

💙🔥 ━ Heads whipped towards the door and there stood Dabi, in his sweatpants and a pissed off look on his face.

💙🔥 ━ “Good morning, Dabi.”

💙🔥 ━ “I asked you a question.” he asked harshly, clenching his teeth. He stormed into the room and grabbed your arm. “You what more than anything in the world?”

💙🔥 ━ You remained unfazed, seemingly having been through this before.

💙🔥 ━ “W-We were just–” Twice was immediately cut off with Dabi slamming his fist on the kitchen counter, flames flickering from his fist.

💙🔥 ━ “NOBODY WAS FUCKING TALKING TO YOU, SCHIZO!”

💙🔥 ━ Twice quickly shut himself up by shoving the pancakes in his mouth. Which were actually delicious so he’s not too mad at Dabi’s freakout.

💙🔥 ━ “Chill out–” Shigaraki was too cut off.

💙🔥 ━ “If I wanted to hear words come out of that crusty, chapped, necro-fucking lips and stained, chipped teeth, I’d dig up your fucking father and tap dance on his fucking ribcage as background music for that useless whiney shit that falls out of your mouth everyday, Hand Job.”

💙🔥 ━ The room fell silent as Shigaraki and Twice shared glances at each other and at you. Bomb defusal is less tense than this. Hell, overthrowing the heroes would be better than sitting in this.

💙🔥 ━ “SO?! IS NO ONE GONNA ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTION?! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU TALKING ABOUT TO MY QUEEN?!”

💙🔥 ━ Queen?

💙🔥 ━ Queen??

💙🔥 ━ QUEEN?????????????

💙🔥 ━ Oh boy, he’s got it bad.

💙🔥 ━ If this wasn’t love, then Shigaraki couldn’t possibly think of another word. Maybe obsessive? Yeah, that sounds like a better word.

💙🔥 ━ “Dabi.”

💙🔥 ━ Dabi whipped his head towards you, nearly fully in flames. His eyes pierced right through you while you remained unfazed from his gaze. You held a slice of pancake covered in heavy powdered sugar raised up to his lips. His flames subsided a bit at the innocent look on your face.

💙🔥 ━ “Say ‘aahhh’.”

💙🔥 ━ In the moment of tense silence, Shigaraki and Twice waited on baited breath at Dabi’s reaction.

💙🔥 ━ To their surprise, Dabi’s flames disappeared and his face softened in a way that they’ve never seen before.

💙🔥 ━ Gentle. Soothing.

💙🔥 ━ Loving.

💙🔥 ━ A gasp nearly left their mouths when they saw Dabi’s mouth open and you gently placed the pancake in his mouth.

💙🔥 ━ “Mmm.” Dabi moaned as he chewed and swallowed. “It’s too sweet.”

💙🔥 ━ Without a moment's hesitation, Dabi threw you over his shoulder, grabbed the plate with the rest of the pancakes, and walked towards the door, but not before throwing the two stunned members a deadly glare.

💙🔥 ━ “This ain’t over.”

💙🔥 ━ And with that, you were dragged back to Dabi’s room for… who knows what.

💙🔥 ━ But, the two of them learned something that day.

💙🔥 ━ Don’t talk to Dabi’s lover if you want to keep your soul in your body and the skin of your muscles.

💙🔥 ━ And Dabi learned something too.

💙🔥 ━ Love is meant for a Todoroki.

💙🔥 ━ Love is meant for Dabi.

🖤🖤🖤

a/n: i wanted to make something longer for this 'until they met you' reaction and decided to play around with giving the reader a quirk. i think it turned out okay. i'm trying to pump out a few more dere boyfriend and anime boyfriend scenarios before the end of the year.

[gluion]

safe haven (how much longer do we have?) ➵ leehan

leehan x reader, slight sungho x reader

you can only hope for more tomorrows with leehan.

genre/warnings ➵ strangers to lovers, heavy angst with a happy ending, touch of fluff, gender-neutral reader, reader is shorter than leehan and sungho, lowercase intended, apocalypse au, hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), depictions of grief, descriptions of gore/blood, use of guns, allusions and discussions of suicide, minor character deaths, sungho is your ex, myungjae and taesan appearance :’), elements of the last of us (don’t support neil druckmann!), mostly written in past tense (because u’re remembering!)

word count ➵ 6.2k words

inspired by ➵ “anaheim” by niki, “are you happy?” by wavesmp3, “love wins all” by iu, episode three of hbo’s the last of us, and “you’re gonna carry that weight” quote from cowboy bebop

a/n ➵ i really love this piece with everything in me so i thought i'd release it to bonedoblr as well!! you can check out the jacob & taerae versions as well. if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

time was the one thing that occupied everyone’s minds. it held value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and people revolved their lives around it.

questions flew around with every tick and tock—what day is it today? when’s your next doctor’s appointment? how long has it been since you’ve last seen your friends from high school? until when does this meeting last? 

as the hands of the clock continue to rotate, the calendar pages would flip along. birthdays were celebrated with every revolution as candles on cakes were lit up, awaiting the puff of celebrants as they wished for their desires. holidays were ones to look forward to; people dressed up to celebrate periods of the year that mattered to them while others slept in until noon. and days were spent counting down until graduations, where caps with tassels would fly to the expanse of blue and orange as cheers and sobs sound throughout.

but now, no one keeps track of time. clocks stopped moving and calendars weren’t produced annually. once the surge of the infected took over, grabbing on humans—taking them away from the lives they’ve lived—everyone ran like they were running out of time. with every second that passes, people are ridden with possibilities of how they might bid farewell to life itself—would it be through the hands of the infected or their own?

now, only one question echoes within their minds: how long do we have?

yet, the clock continues—tick, tock, tick, tock. it keeps going, and going, and going, like how everyone expects it. while everyone seemed to let time go, you still kept track of it all: birthdays, holidays, a graduation you never had.

the outbreak hit two years ago on the day of sungho’s graduation. cheers turned into screams. white togas and diplomas were splattered with red. the lively became lifeless.

you remember sungho’s hand in yours, fingers gripping you as if you were his life, as you charged out of the gymnasium, legs keeping up with the speed of his. you darted off to nowhere as images of the infected tearing people apart took up every block, all the way from skin to bone.

and while it was a rush of tragedies, sungho was the only hope you had.

“keep your eyes on me,” he glanced at you, “don’t look at them. only look at me.”

it was impossible to ignore the wails that filled your ears, but you would repeat his words—his soft-spoken voice—to drown them out.

by nightfall, you and sungho found yourselves in a motel room, skin cleaned from blood splatters and dressed in clothes that engulfed your figures, and in each other’s arms on a twin-sized bed. the duvet that wrapped around you two is thin, not at all keeping you warm for the night, but the warmth of sungho was enough to provide you a sense of security—stability amidst the ever-changing world.

he whispered into the crown of your head, words meant to dispel your fears, all while you sobbed into his shirt. there was nothing that he could do but stay strong for you.

and for a few days, that room acted as your safe haven. the time spent within those four walls is the life you imagined your future with sungho. it would’ve been in a two-story house with a garden where a singular orange tree stands, lounging on the couch as you played movies to fall asleep to, but all you had was an old room with a carpeted floor with unrecognizable stains and a bathroom unable to fit two.

yet, you would choose this over anything. even if it meant eating instant noodles for every meal or sleeping on a mattress that ruins your backs, you would choose this if it meant sungho would be with you.

still, time continues to move. sungho knew that you both couldn’t stay in that room or else the infected may reach you. so when you both went to bed on that last night, you outlined his features from the space between his eyebrows all the way to his lips, and you spent that time memorizing his warmth to carry with you for the rest of your life. you could only hope that he stays with you until the end.

after a month passed, you and sungho met jaehyun, an injured boy who only wanted to live. at first, sungho was hesitant to take the stranger in, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to live with the idea of abandoning someone in need. in a world where the infected have taken over, it only seemed right to help out others; save them from a fate they’re not ready to meet.

what started off as a pair turned into a trio. you’ve learned more about what it takes to survive in this life. long gone is the need for money to buy necessities; you need to scavenge for supplies if you want to live in an infected-ridden world. thanks to jaehyun, you and sungho got to learn about how to find them in every building that you pass on the journey.

but it’s not enough to know where to find food and bullets. sungho decided that it was only right to teach you how to use a gun. with every morning that came, you two spent hours learning how to hold, reload, and fire.

“don’t worry,” he told you as his chin hovered over your shoulder. you both stared at the tin can situated on a stack of boxes only a few meters away. “you won’t have to worry about fighting alone. i’ll be here with you.” as you exhaled, your eyes zeroed in on the target. “now, shoot.”

six months have passed, and you were happy that you were still a trio. jaehyun became your best friend over that time. his laughs were enough to shine glimmers of hope onto you. you were glad that you decided to help him off the ground and tend to his bullet wound that day.

until you found yourselves retreating from the horde of infected.

time moves at a constant speed but it can become swift if it decides to. when you and jaehyun reached the doors leading to safety, you remember seeing sungho fighting off those who were once like you, bullets firing at their heads. you remember your screams, telling him to run to you—go to where it’s safe—so that you can keep having tomorrows with him.

yet, sungho glanced at jaehyun, nodding at him before his eyes met yours. you watched how his mouth moved, a soundless three-word phrase leaving him before the doors shut before you. you would’ve pried them open but jaehyun kept his arms around you, holding you back. from letting the infected reach you. from letting sungho come back to you.

the wails that left you were enough to attract the infected. if only they were to burst through the doors, grab onto you and bring you to sungho, then maybe you would stop crying. yet, jaehyun dragged you away. you never saw him as your best friend after that.

a month passed, and you still refused to talk to him. the boy tried to strike up a conversation with you, trying to earn your laugh like he used to, but he was only met with a cold shoulder. with every brick he put, you smashed your sledgehammer against it, dispelling any hope he had in rekindling his friendship with you.

the two of you learned to live in silence, fighting for survival while dealing with the loss of the one who would always bring you both to safety.

until you came across another boy who pointed his gun toward you. his defensive demeanor reminded you of sungho, and you wondered if this was his doing—his reincarnation. but before he could pull the trigger, jaehyun saved you from meeting your fate.

somehow, the duo had turned into a trio once more. you still refused to talk to jaehyun but would eavesdrop on the conversations he shared with the stranger. you learned that the new addition is named leehan.

but even the stranger wasn’t enough to fill the void that sungho left. with every nightfall, when the soft snores of the two boys filled your ears, tears streamed down your face as sobs threatened to spill out. the palm of your hand wasn’t enough to muffle your weeps. behind your eyelids, sungho’s last words to you play on repeat. the ones he failed to say. the ones you’ll never hear again.

maybe if you didn’t leave that motel room then he would’ve still been with you, arms finding their place around your waist as he trails kisses all over you. if the outbreak didn’t happen, then maybe you would be living in that two-story house with him. maybe you would wake up to a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice by the bedside table and the warmth of his lips on your forehead. and maybe you could finally tell him yes before he slips the silver band on your finger—you could’ve grown with him until your hair turns grey.

the weight you carry never got lighter with time. the void continued to consume you whole with the goal of ripping you apart. as another month passed, another life was lost—not to the infected but to the raiders.

“myungjae, you have to stay with me.” those were the first words you told him since sungho’s death. crimson continued to spill out of his abdomen through the gaps between your fingertips in the same way tears flow out. “leehan! find gauze, betadine, anything!” you never glanced at the stranger, keeping your gaze on your best friend whose eyes continued to droop.

still, jaehyun caressed your face, thumb wiping teardrops. as he slowly entered territories that you both knew he would never escape, he grinned at you one last time. “i missed hearing you. i’m glad you’ll be the last thing i hear.”

but you tried to tell him that you couldn’t be the last voice he heard. it should’ve been with someone he can imagine his future with, maybe in a two-story house or a cramped flat in an apartment complex. he deserves more tomorrows in the same way sungho did.

but time continues to move. it took him away from you in a matter of minutes, slithering away without a second thought and no regard for the value of life, and all you were left with was his temple—still. lifeless. as you sobbed into his shirt, still holding the wound, the warmth of leehan’s hand stayed on your back, moving along with your wails. 

now, you carry the loss of two. it never got easier with time.

leehan still sticks with you. it only seemed right. stay strong in numbers as you wander off to nowhere, grasping at the loose ends of survival.

two weeks have passed. you and leehan got used to the new dynamic; while he went hunting and you were tasked with scavenging, you both played your roles in combat, ready for any raid or horde. when night comes, you both took shifts, keeping watch while the other got some shut-eye.

until that one evening.

you recall the sounds of wood crackling from the fire. it stood strong against the breeze—burning, shining—surrounded by greens that latch on browns. hues of amber cascaded over your skin, painting you with warmth—it’ll never compare to the one you craved. your eyes drifted to leehan who sat across from you, his eyes trained on the fire as he rubbed his palms together. perhaps he craved the same type of warmth you longed for.

“we used to be three.” his eyes snapped towards yours. “before you came, we used to be three—jaehyun, me, and—” it rose in you like bile, wanting to escape but never leaving. “we were three then.”

you glanced at the wood that continued to burn. “we met jaehyun a month after the outbreak, spent six months together until—” the claws of the void struck against your throat, holding you back from sharing with the stranger what your life was before he came. while you never found the right words to say, leehan never pushed, letting you say what you wanted to share while filling in the blanks on his own. 

“i resented jaehyun after what happened.” you moved your gaze to leehan whose eyes never left you. “refused to talk to him. refused to forgive.” and you remember how you hesitated, taking a deep breath in before sputtering out the next sentence. “refused to accept.”

nine months ago, the outbreak didn’t happen. nine months ago, you were attending sungho’s graduation. nine months ago, you two were imagining your tomorrows together—for eternity.

and those nine months fractured all hopes and dreams; the glass is now littered with cracks, ready to burst into shards.

“but i think about the last time we saw jaehyun,” the image of him sitting in front of you all frail, treading the line between life and death, flashed in front of you; it’s quick but strong to remind you of what’s lost. “and i wish i could’ve learned how to forgive during those two months.”

but it was an impossible request. how could you ever forgive a boy you’ve known for only six months for taking your future away? how could you forgive a world that took him away? how could you forgive and live?

and still, you did.

you left it at that. they were enough. so when you told leehan that you’ll take over tonight’s shift, he never asked to hear more. instead, he laid near the campfire as you kept an eye out.

and once enough hours have passed, you allowed yourself to sob like other nights. the breeze that passed through branches reminded you of jaehyun; rustling leaves imitated the giggles of the boy you’ve only known during the apocalypse.

the wind that grazed against your skin should’ve been a nuisance, but the warmth of the fire wrapped you up like the duvet in that motel room. and you don’t complain—it’s the only part of sungho you have left.

the heat was enough to last you the night, but the chill of reality sent you back to the void.

that night, leehan listened to your sobs. not one of you got enough rest for the journey.

another two weeks went by. you two got into a better groove of the routine; instead of hunting and scavenging in silence, you and leehan found yourselves talking more about your lives before the outbreak. you learned that he’s only a year younger than sungho, and he shared that he had plans to pursue music.

“if the world finds a cure to this mess, you have to promise me that you’ll get me front-row tickets to your first show.” it was a joke. in what world could there be a cure for the infected? but the wishful thinking of what could be—what could’ve been—is all you had left.

still, leehan promised you that.

that night, you two stayed in the living room of an abandoned house. instead of lighting the fireplace, candles were placed on the coffee table. they shined in the middle of you two, you who stayed on the couch and leehan who sat on the mattress lying on the floor.

“where were you?” his eyes met yours. “on the day of the outbreak, i mean.”

he leaned back, hands resting on the mattress before he looked once more at the wax that continued to melt. “i was there for my upperclassmen’s graduation.” it hit you like sudden downpour on a sunny day. “i knew people in the music program and we were going to celebrate after. until the infected came.”

and when you said the name of the university, his gaze met yours as his shoulders stiffened. “m—my sungho.” it’s the first time you spoke of his name, and the sight of leehan’s eyes widening over it was enough to speak for himself.

“i—i didn’t know,” he whispered, but his words were loud enough to shatter glass. “i only spoke to him a few times. he talked about you with so much love.”

your heart skipped beats; it should’ve been enough to send you off into the same territories where sungho and jaehyun now stay. your mouth turned dry as leehan’s voice morphed into radio silence.

before you knew it, the two of you left the information to hang in the air as you tried to drift into slumber.

the clock continues to tick. minutes turned into hours; time moves like it usually does once more.

yet, you were stuck in the same gymnasium, fixing sungho’s toga as you scolded him about how wrinkled it’s become—hey! you’ll go up on stage soon. we can’t take pictures of you like this. despite your words, he smiled at you before grazing his lips on your temple—his silent way of telling you the three-word phrase.

in a split second, you were off the couch. you barged out of the house, clutching your chest as the knot constricted your throat, and your feet dragged you off to nowhere. every sound has turned into a buzz—only the voice of sungho being the one clear thing amidst the hysteria.

before you knew it, you stood before a horizon of green. it takes only one step into the woods, alone with no protection, for you to meet your demise. you would’ve charged into it in the same way you would’ve charged out to save sungho that day.

all it takes is one step, and—

“what are you doing?!” a pair of hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you around until you were face-to-face with the last form of life that you know of. his breaths were short as his fingers dug into your arms. “you can’t just rush out in the middle of the night! i woke up worried sick.” his eyebrows knitted in frustration. confusion. distress. the voice was caught in your throat.

how does one begin to unpack the baggage they’ve learned to carry? when the items they bring are revolting, rotten, repugnant, how does someone not feel shame about showing all the tattered-up objects?

how do you learn to open up to someone you’ve only known for three months?

your hands trembled; you’ve carried the weight of it all for too long.

in that split second, your nose met the juncture between his chin and shoulder. the material of his shirt against your cheek allowed you to bathe in what you miss—the hand of jaehyun that once caressed your face. the lips of sungho that lingered with every kiss. all the moments that you hoped time would freeze just for you lives in the boy you stick with for survival.

all it took were leehan’s hands to rest on the lower side of your back for the tears to begin their stream. the sobs spill out. for once, they weren’t muffled like those other nights. they sounded throughout the space that surrounded you two. you allowed yourself to drop the baggage only for a few minutes.

leehan took you back to the house that night, allowing you to sob about all that you’ve kept under the wraps.

when sunrise came, you found your legs mixed with his as his arms remained wrapped around you and your ear pressed against his chest. the sound of his breathing is the one reminder of what a safe haven is. 

half a year went by. leehan still stays by your side. the baggage got lighter.

it should’ve been the same routine; leehan goes off to hunt while you scavenge, and you’ll take turns on the night shifts. but that night shifted something between you two. stolen glances. quiet giggles. linked fingers.

two months have gone by. the moon shined through the trees, their shadows cascading on an abandoned cabin that you and leehan decided to stay in for that night.

it should’ve been the same set-up as other nights spent in abandoned houses; you’ll sleep on the couch while he sleeps on a dragged-out mattress. instead, he sat with you, your back resting on his chest along with his hand staying on your arm. 

a lit candle rested on the table; its amber tones painted leehan’s skin—close to the fruit tree that stands in your lost future.

“what would you do if there is a cure to this?” you watched how his fingers danced across your skin, calloused from plucking guitar strings or wielding a gun. 

leehan’s chest rumbled against your back as he hummed. “what would you do?”

a giggle left as you looked at the boy. “i was the one who asked you first!”

he shot you a grin as his hand slipped into yours. the candle continued to burn; it did a poor job of giving you light and warmth that night. but he did it all—one smile. one exhale. one indication to show that he lives.

“travel, maybe? or i’ll go back to writing music.” you nodded at his plans before looking back at the light source. “what about you?”

“i don’t know.”

there was no point in going back to university after such a catastrophe. if anything, the year spent surrounded by the infected, fighting for survival, has shown you that there’s more to life than the perpetual cycle of working a nine-to-five.

so…

“i would settle down if i could.” the wax continued to melt. “i think i’ve seen enough of the world. for once, i just want to stay home. indulge in my hobbies. live the life that i want.”

his breath grazed the top of your head. “with someone?” and suddenly, you became aware of it all—the heat that emitted from his palm. the movement of his chest against your back. the gravity of his question.

the words get caught in your throat. your heartbeat rang in your ears. for the first time since sungho’s death, you considered it. 

“with someone.”

before you knew it, his hand caressed your cheek. you were forced to meet his eyes which glistened with devotion. he leaned forward, his breath grazing your skin while you held in yours. you didn’t miss how his gaze flickered to your lips before he met your eyes once more.

then, he held back. it’s a choice, one only you can make. but when your eyes shut, it’s a quiet plea—a silent yes.

his lips met yours. 

the warmth that blossomed in your chest wasn’t like the one in that motel room. not like the embrace of the one you’ve lost. it was one of all seasons—changing with the weather, bringing comfort throughout the everchanging times.

it’s a perpetual cycle of fighting for survival.

you’ll endure through it all.

a month passed by, and you came across another boy on the journey. he’s named taesan, and he told you of a safe haven located in the town that you and leehan grew up in.

for a moment, it was an internal debate—should you go back to where the downfall started? can you go to where the memory of sungho still lives?

but one glance at leehan was enough to settle it. the three of you embarked on your journey.

you remember that day. it was a walk with the goal of finding a car to make the journey back an easy one. the heat of the sun prickled against your skin but you still kept your arms crossed.

“are you two together?” taesan asked, causing you to whip your head towards him. your eyes met leehan’s for a split second—confusion. dejection—before they landed back at the stranger who kept his eyes on the path you took.

“no, we aren’t.”

for the rest of the journey, it was quiet.

sundown came, and you found yourselves in a convenience store for that night’s shelter. leehan was in charge of taking the night shift, allowing you and taesan to rest up. when the stranger went off to sleep on the makeshift bed, you were left alone with leehan.

you watched how he cleaned his gun with a rag stained with dark splotches. the moon gleamed through the window—it can’t compare to how leehan shines.

you needed to get some sleep, is what you tell yourself. with one spin, you were about to make your way to where you’d sleep for that night.

“are we really not?” you halted in your tracks. “did it mean nothing?”

not a single answer left your mouth. your eyes remained straightforward as you refused to meet his gaze.

the warmth vanished with a lack of an answer. instead, it was replaced once more with the cold—the void—that attempted to consume you whole.

and when a scornful chuckle left leehan, you knew that you’d burnt the bridge. you walked away, leaving him to do his job, bidding farewell to the closest form of a safe haven.

two weeks went by and another goodbye had to be done. taesan stood in front of you two, a grin on his lips while tears streamed down his face. his arm was out, revealing a bite mark. the veins near the wound had already turned black. he would’ve turned in a few hours.

“go out.” those were leehan’s first words to you since that night in the convenience store.

you remember the last thing you told taesan before you left the room—you’ll get to your safe haven. the sobs that spilled out of him are ones you’ll never forget. and when you shut the door behind you, it took 20 seconds until you heard a gunshot. 

the weight got heavier once more.

another two weeks went by, and you and leehan found yourselves standing in front of the remains of a safe haven. the fences were torn down. streaks of dark red littered over pavements. not a single sight of a soul lived.

still, you two trudged your way through the town, all the way until you reached leehan’s house. like others, his was abandoned. the cream walls were littered with red strokes and vines. when you both entered, you didn’t miss how leehan’s eyes lingered on a photo hung on the wall—a picture of him and his parents.

you gave him all the time he needed to explore, to sit with the mess, while you stayed in the living room. as you sat on the couch that had gathered dust, you caught sight of a bowl of plastic produce that rested on the coffee table. it held a variety of fruits whose paint had chipped: watermelon, chestnut, and fig.

but amidst the crowd of old, torn-down, plastic fruits, a pear and an orange leaned against each other as grime collected on them. once your hands reached out to the fruits, you pulled them apart—a mess of green and orange stained the two.

he came back to you in 30 minutes, eyes glistening with tears. yet, he only gave you a nod, and you two went to another house. 

you then stood in front of your old house with leehan by your side. weeds grew in the front yard, and the wooden exterior has turned a few shades darker. silence settled between you two. 

to be back in a place you grew up in, where all your memories live, is a process—a grieving one. being face-to-face with the damage brought by the infected can only remind you of what you had and could’ve had.

and once you made your way to your childhood room, you were reminded of all your hopes and dreams before the outbreak. dust rested on top of books. the laptop on your desk had no charge. potted plants have withered.

when you approached the picture frames found on your table, your hand darted out to a photograph of you and sungho. there was no occasion when that picture was taken—the fact that you two were together was enough for it to be remembered. memorialized.

as you made your way back down the stairs, you saw leehan crouched in front of the console table with eyes trained on photographs. “was this your high school graduation?” you approached him and saw the picture he was referring to, you who stood beside sungho with a big grin as his lips were on your temple.

“yeah,” you said as you crouched beside leehan. “we knew each other back when i was a freshman.” your fingers trailed on the wooden frame, gathering the dust before flicking it away. despite your efforts, it was still covered in grime, but you didn’t mind. 

“and you stayed together since?” all you did was hum. “did you find anything up there?”

for the first time since you entered your old house, you looked at leehan and he met your gaze. your eyes trailed his features. the eyes that speak of a thousand words. the lips that once kissed yours.

and it hit you like the gunshot that filled your ears, the breeze that rustled the leaves that one night, the doors that shut close. it was 20 months since the outbreak happened, 13 months since you lost sungho, and 11 months since jaehyun told you his last words.

but it was also 13 months spent with leehan, choosing to survive with him. 

“yeah.”

you found a lot of things within those four walls. there were books you once read growing up, stuffed toys you slept with, and the one picture of you and sungho; they’re the remaining pieces you have left of a life that was good.

you would’ve kept it all, rebuilt the life that was ripped away by the hands of the infected—

“but nothing to hold on to.”

they’re memories, ones you’ll carry with you, but ones worth moving on from. 

“oh,” he said as his eyes still held your gaze. “okay.”

and with one exhale, you said, “let’s rebuild it, just a place for us two.”

it was a whirlwind of emotions in leehan’s eyes, ones you can’t identify. for a moment, you thought he’d say no. maybe he decided that 13 months was enough. one more day with you would be too much, and—

“okay.” when his hand reached out for yours, linking fingers with you like all other times, you gave him a small smile.

when you and leehan stood up, you made your way out of the house, off to find a place just for you two—a safe haven to last you many tomorrows with him.

a month passed. the safe haven was rebuilt; the fences stood strong with electrical wires and barbed wires, and the town was cleaned of all remnants of grime and blood. the two of you took up different tasks ranging from cleaning, cooking, building, and maintaining the haven.

but while you were okay with a knife, accidents did happen. “fuck!”

“what happened?” you remember how leehan came rushing in, only to see you pressing on the skin around the cut on your finger.

before you knew it, you were sitting down with him as he wrapped gauze around the wound. “leehan, it’s just a cut. i’ll be fine.”

“still, i don’t want you getting hurt.” you watched how his eyes were focused on treating your finger. “i’ll be in charge of cooking now.”

you shook your head. “no, i like to cook. i want to cook for us.” his gaze then met yours, his filled with worry while yours filled with determination. they flickered back to your finger and his hands busied themselves with covering it up.

once he was done, his hand continued to hold yours. you remember the heat of his thumb as it drew patterns on your hand. he’s etched himself onto you.

his eyes met yours once more, and he said, “okay, just let me help out.” all you gave him was a nod.

another month went by, and you woke up to the sound of gunshots. you remember how hazy your vision was that night, fresh from sleep but panic coursing through your veins. and when you looked beside you to only see an empty spot, you didn’t think twice about rushing out of bed.

when you exited the house, you saw leehan holding his gun, firing at the people who attempted to tear down the haven’s fences. “leehan!” he looked back at you and you caught sight of the crimson that poured out of his abdomen.

another gunshot was fired, grazing leehan’s leg, and he fell to his knees. you ran to him, reaching out to rest your hand on the wound as you began to sob. “fuck! you have to stay with me.” with his arm resting around your shoulders, you dragged him back to the house.

you set him on the table and moved his hand to hold where he was shot. “hold it.” you rushed to where the medical supplies were stored and gathered whatever you could hold. when you got back, you saw how blood continued to spill out.

you got to work, focused on trying to patch him up, making sure he stays. “you can’t go. i won’t let it happen.” and while your hands busied themselves with treating the injury, you remember how leehan’s hand caressed your cheek, thumb wiping away the spilled tears. 

“in the basement, there’s a piece of paper that has all the codes. if you ever—”

“no, you’ll be okay.”

still, he continued to talk. “if you ever forget the codes, you can always look at the paper. don’t forget that you need to always check the water system every two days, and—”

“leehan!” you croaked out his name in between sobs. “you’ll be okay. you have to, okay?” the more he went on about what to keep in mind, the baggage got heavier. “i can’t do this without you. i won’t allow it.”

because 15 months ago, you would’ve bid farewell to the mayhem. 13 months ago, you hoped for time to drag you away. 12 months ago, you would’ve walked into the forest. but it’s been 22 months, and you were still walking on this earth, choosing to live amidst the chaos—so long as leehan was with you. 

and when you leaned your forehead on his, eyes closed, you felt his breath graze against your lips. “i need you.”

all it took were three words from you. “okay.”

it’s been two months since that happened. the safe haven was rebuilt once more. you and leehan fortified the defense system, hoping they’ll be enough to keep any infected and raiders out. all that matters is that you two were protected—safe—from the chaos.

now, you sit on a couch as you flip through the pages of a book you didn’t have time to read before the outbreak. when all responsibilities vanished, you were able to find enough time to do things you couldn’t do then.

you were ready to get yourself sucked into the world of the novel, but leehan came into the living room with his hands behind his back and a small smile on his lips. “do you remember what you made me promise you before?”

you frown at him, confused, until he shows you an acoustic guitar. “oh my god, you found one?” you put the book on the coffee table.

he takes a seat beside you, body facing towards you as he rests the instrument on his lap. “here, front-row tickets to my first show.” you almost laughed because this is no stadium or club, but a home—one you built with him.

it takes only one smile from him for you to hold it back.

“any song requests?” he strums on the guitar strings, perfectly in tune. it’s almost as if he tuned it before coming to you.

a hum leaves you as you rest your head on your hand propped on the couch. “whatever you want to show me.”

it takes him a few seconds, fingers fiddling with the strings, until he figures out what to play. when he sings out the words—dearest, darling, my universe—you melt like the candles you lit up those nights. as he continues to play a song of a world in hysteria but a love that endures, that’s when you realize what you’ve had all this time.

time is the one thing that occupies your mind. it holds value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and you learned to revolve your life around it.

it takes you two years to figure out that life doesn’t end after the outbreak—and 17 months to realize that your safe haven is not a two-story house with an orange tree in the garden but the boy in front of you.

when you lean closer to him, his fingers falter, messing up the chords. your hand reaches out to caress his face as your eyes flicker to his lips. you don’t miss how leehan holds his breath, how he stops playing the guitar, how his eyes look back at yours—it’s a slurry of warmth. tenderness.

“i love you.”

all it took was a three-word phrase from you for him to close the distance.

the warmth that spreads within you is like the one you experience in the abandoned cabin. but now, you’re full of hope—a reason to stay—in an infected-ridden world.

now, only one question echoes within your mind: how much longer do we have?

an eternity is what you hope.

tag list: @onedoornet @kflixnet @loserlvrss @lionhanie @nicholasluvbot

@blumisiu @0310s @icyminghao @shegotthewoobies

[kainagant]

The fact that Himiko Toga was seen as a "normal, well adjusted, she's very friendly and nice" girl in middle school drives me nuts like- We have only ever seen her as her current self (having knowingly and purposefully tipped herself off the edge and is having an absolute blast) so the idea that before her graduation she was just another unremarkable girl you were classmates with in middle school is incredible to wrap my head around.

I feel like people don't give her enough credit. For multiple things really. I've said before that she's smarter than most of the fandom seems to portray her as being, but really when you consider her backstory and her quirk, of course she's good at pretending to be normal, and wearing a mask. She very intentionally is unapologetically herself whenever she's with the LOV, but outside of that? You could pass her on the street, maybe even exchange pleasantries at the bus stop, and probably never even clock that she's a serial murderer.

We act like her being unhinged means she's incapable "acting normal", but she says it better herself: unhinged is her normal, and just like it's fairly straightforward for most "normal" people to play charades and act out a part, its no different for Toga to pretend to be someone else as well. And I don't think that she needs to be using her quirk to put on an act, after all, she acted in a role completely at odds with her true self all throughout elementary and middle school, with no one the wiser.

[the-mandawhor1an]

Searching for the stars | Marcus Acacius x f!Reader

Summary: You're about to end your work day as an achaeologist, when a call comes in that will change your life forever. Who would've guessed that the stranger causing havoc on your excavation site in the middle of the night could end up being the very owner of the villa that has long been buried.

Words: 2.7k

Tags: Time travel; Marcus is a little drunk; Mentions of death; Yeah that's it this time around.

Speech in italics indicates that Latin is being spoken.

Notes: At long last, my entry for @burntheedges's Roll a trope challenge! My trope was time travel with Marcus. I know, I know. There's not much and this thing here ended up being soooooo cliffhangery. But I've decided I will revisit these at a later point, so consider this the pilot chapter for a mini-series. I have more plot points open but I want to give them the attention they deserve, and I couldn't do that while also working on my costume project.

Comments etc. are appreciated, thank you to @rivnedell for beta-ing this for me.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Have you ever looked up at the sky and wondered?

Wondered why the stars seem sad? 

They mourn the loss of their dear sisters

Who descended from the sky to sparkle in your eyes. 

I will make sure their departure was never in vain.

You are the light of my life. 

I love you.

It was dead of night, your head in your hands, leaning above an ancient tablet. The words carved into the semitransparent block of wax touched you in a way you never thought possible. A declaration of pure devotion and love, written by a man almost two millennia ago. This deep connection he felt for the woman he addressed these words to must have been unbreakable. A love like this must’ve been nice, you thought to yourself. To be practically worshiped by a man.

You leaned back into the backrest on your chair and rubbed your eyes. The clock over your desk, endlessly ticking, told you it was close to two in the morning, meaning you’d been up for 20 hours. Time to head to bed instead of yearning for men who had been dead for a long time. 

Just as you were about to switch off the light in your office, your cellphone buzzed in your pocket. “Philippe, what the fuck, it’s –” you started when you picked up the call from your coworker, turning silent when you heard the shouting in the background of the call. “Sorry, we need you at the site right now. We have an intruder.” There were several male voices in the background. How were you of any help there? “I don’t understand, can’t the police –” “Just come,” he urged. With a sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Fine, I’ll be down in a minute.” 

It had been a little longer than a minute until you approached the excavation site, hearing the shouting in the distance. The city was relatively quiet compared to the site, out in a field in the outskirts of Rome. Philippe waved you down, two security guards held a stranger, forced onto his knees, both arms in a death grip and his head forced to face the ground. He wore dirty, off-white robes, similar to the tunic a Roman would’ve worn underneath a toga. It didn’t look like a costume, either. “Drunkard, we found him stumbling along the ruins. He’s mumbling and we can’t tell if his accent is just super thick, or –” Just as he wanted to give you more insight, you heard the gravelly deep voice of the stranger. His words were slurred and you were tired, to it took a moment for your brain to register his words. 

“You’re on my land. LEAVE!” With a look of absolute bewilderment, you looked at the man, then to Philippe. “He speaks Latin?” “That or that’s the weirdest dialect I have ever heard. My Latin is rusty, I figured you’d still be up and might be able to help.” 

“This is your land?” You asked and knelt before him. His face was still turned to the ground, his breath was labored. “Yes it is, woman. Tell these men to get their hands off of me. What happened to my villa?” What a warm welcome. Something about his words made you wonder. You knew this villa belonged to a Roman general once. Said general had practically been an obsession of yours, so your heart started beating faster. With a nod you motioned the guard forcing his head down to take the hand away.    

“Woman?” Philippe asked. You turned to him for a second, still on your knees. “He claims to be the owner of this land. Asking us where his house has gone.” “What do you mean? The owner is a farmer.” “I think he’s trying to claim that he is … the general” Philippe roared with laughter, until he realized you meant it. “You actually think that is possible?” 

You turned back to the man. His breathing had calmed, but he was still mumbling to himself, about the gods, and something about the stars. Wait a second, the stars.

You hesitated for a moment, not sure if you should mention something that only the man he claimed to be would know. “Don’t you think the stars look sad tonight? I’ve been told they’re mourning.” His demeanor changed when he heard you refer to the poem you had been over for the past hours. His head turned upward slowly, almost like time was stopping, dark brown eyes finding yours. You recognized the strong facial features, although they were a lot dirtier right now. His gaze was still hostile, his forehead wrinkled, but a hint of confusion hid in his furrowed brows. You continued as you suddenly had his attention “They have lost sisters, haven’d they?” 

He swallowed, parting his lips to say something, but the words failed him. His eyes turned glassy. That might be the confirmation you had expected to see, although it pained you to see a man of his stature seem genuinely pained. He responded, “They mourn the ones that descended to sparkle in your eyes. How do you know that?” “You’ve told me… in a way. I found your scriptures, general,” you replied to him with a soft smile. It was cruel to quote what basically amounted to a declaration of love to his wife, but you figured this was something only he would have known. You looked at the two men still restraining him and asked them to let him go. He landed on his hands, not tearing his eyes from you. He was cautious, yet curious about the woman before him, speaking his language and knowing something only one woman should have known. 

“Where am I?” he asked. It was like the little interaction had sobered him up enough that he was coherent and beginning to understand his situation. If he could even understand, because you sure didn’t. “You’re in Rome. About 1800 years after your time. I’m sorry, this is probably not what you wanted to hear, General Acacius.” You straightened up, standing in front of him, offering a hand to help him up, which he declined. “You’re lying, this must be Elysium. Where is Astra?” He rose to his feet, unstably so, and stumbled into you. Your instincts kicked in and you put both hands on his chest, catching the falling body. “Astra is dead, Marcus,” you said, this time more empathetically and your eyes crossed paths again. He was so close that you could smell the wine in his breath and a hint of rosemary, possibly coming from his dark brown curls. “I know it sounds unbelievable, but please, allow me to prove it.” A strong heart was beating underneath your finger tips, his breathing was steady. Face turned downward, he watched your hands for a second until he locked eyes with you again and nodded. “Fine.” 

Accompanied by a very confused Philippe and security, you make it back to the temporary ‘head quarter’ which consisted of fully furnished, heated cargo containers. The stranger was, for the most part, cooperative but a little confused about his beloved city changing so much. Neither electricity nor any kind of wireless device was familiar to him, but he took the culture shock surprisingly calmly. Maybe he still thought he had passed, after all. 

As soon as the other men had left you after more than a couple of reassurances that you could handle the visitor, said lost soul regained his voice. “Show me the scripture,” he asked you, albeit in a rather demanding tone. “Right here,” you motioned over to your desk, where the tablet sat. He walked over and carefully swiped his fingers over the wooden frame that had saved the tablet from erosion over the years. “Please, be careful,” you urged, panic audible in your voice. Said relic was invaluable and probably one of your favorite discoveries of all. His hand removed from the delicate piece and he sighed deeply. The pain in his voice was palpable. “I wrote that as part of my marriage proposal for Astra. I am surprised it survived if this really is 1800 years old.” “I’m sorry you lost her. And I didn’t want to be so harsh out there, but that was the only way I thought I could verify your claim to be Marcus.” 

Marcus huffed and turned to face you, but something else piqued his interest. Right behind your back, there was a replica of one of the busts that depicted him. One of the first traces to his existence you had found in your career. The replica was made in ceramic, made to look like marble, but a lot less expensive and less delicate. 

He stared at the bust in disbelief. It had his armor on, looked similar to him, but still, what you were telling him didn’t make sense to him. You watched him from the side and were actually impressed how well the sculptor had managed to capture his features. His prominent nose, the strong brows, the serious look on his face. Even the fullness of his hair they had somehow managed to simulate despite the unmoving medium it was carved into. His hair war unruly after the fight with security, but the curls were still there. It was hard to deny that he was handsome, even more so in the flesh. 

"What do they say about me?" he asked calmly. His fingertips brushed over the sculpture’s hair. He pulled back, remembering how protective you had been over the wax tablet, but you nodded in silent reassurance that it was fine to touch. 

"You were a fierce warrior, but deep down you were a broken man, yearning to be reunited with your lover. You fought like you never feared death, in fact you would have embraced it, but the gods didn’t grant your wish. You might have never seen yourself as a man of words, but the few I found made your love for her very obvious. I’m really sorry that you lost her." 

A frown crept up to his lips with the mention of his wife. As much as the characterization fit, he hated that he was known for the pain he endured and the pain he caused. You saw the muscles in his jaw flex. "How did I die?" He turned back to you.

You shook your head. "We… never found out. You disappeared one night. The last accounts of sightings said you got drunk one night, stumbled across your estate and begged for the gods to have mercy, to take your life so you could be reunited with her. And you vanished. Some speculate you killed yourself in a nearby creek, or maybe died accidentally." 

"That was just before I woke up here," he said in confusion. His arms crossed in front of his chest, a sigh rumbling through his lungs. You couldn’t help but scan over his arms, so on display without any fabric covering his sunkissed, muscly biceps. 

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, mimicking his expression, more on accident than consciously. “I’m not a very religious person, especially as very little people believe in the Roman Gods any more, but… it would explain why you’re here. Maybe you need to do something here and then you get to be with her.” You couldn’t believe what you were saying, but he was here after all, and you were actually convinced that this was Marcus Acacius. If this was a dream and you had fallen asleep on your desk, this sure felt real, realer than any dream you ever had. 

“Perhaps,” he mumbled and wiped over his face with his right hand, never breaking eye contact with the statue. His gaze wandered to the walls, all of them plastered in hints about him, everything you found out about the general in your years of study. “You know a lot about me.” You nodded in response. ”Yes, I’m … a scholar. I studied history and you more specifically,” you explained, motioning towards the walls of information with your hand. It was odd, to say the least, to have your subject more or less in front of you. There was so much you wanted to ask him. You had to stop yourself though, the shock probably needed some time to settle for him. For you it would also take some time to accommodate to the fact you had a Roman General in your office. ”You are surprisingly calm for someone that just woke up 1800 years in the future,” you added as an afterthought. 

His dark brown eyes met your again. Gone was the drunk attitude and all that remained was a broken man. ”I thought I must be dreaming at first. But I could never imagine a world like this. And then I thought this might be Elysium and you were my guide” His lips curled into a soft smile. It seemed genuine, and you were impressed how open minded he was, given where he came from. It must have been extraordinarily strange to wake up here. Strange clothes, strange languages, artificial light and electricity. 

”You might want to get some rest. Sleep the wine off and start arranging yourself with the new environment. I will see if I can get you something to wear in the morning. Unfortunately you can’t stay dressed like this,” you motioned to his tunic. It might have been quite normal back then, but now? They would think he was some weird larper. 

”Do you live here?” he asked. You shook your head, a little confused by the question. ”My house isn’t far from here, though. A few minutes walk.” “And you will sleep here?” ”I prefer my bed to be honest, but it’s for the best if someone stays with you.” He made a little grunt before he said ”I won’t be trouble, go sleep in your bed.” 

You shook your head. “I know you mean well but I can’t leave you alone. This … place isn’t safe for someone who’s not familiar with anything.” He scoffed again, but didn’t press the issue further. 

You left the office for a second to get a mattress and a blanket to make yourself a little bed in front of the couch. You motioned for him to flop down on the couch before laying down next to the sofa on the small mattress. ”We’ll get some clothes for you tomorrow. I’ll take you to my house so you can wash yourself,” you said with a yawn. Marcus turned to look at you, his gaze was intense like he was studying you. 

”What is it?” you asked him when his staring lingered for way longer than necessary. ”Are all women today strange like you? Why are you helping me?” was all he asked. Well. Why did you? ”You’re stuck here,” you started, looking at the ceiling. “I might be the only person that can maybe help you find whatever you’re supposed to find. It probably is a bit of my pride as well. I’ve studied you for so long and I would regret not spending time with you. You can teach us so much about Rome in your time. About the emperor. About the wars you were in. About the arena.” “You don’t want to hear about that,” he simply stated and turned his back towards you. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. Then we’ll just find out what your reason to be here is.” You also turned your back toward him, hearing the rustle of his pillow about half a minute after. It fell quiet in your office, only a few hours before the sun rose again. 

While you couldn’t remember any of your dream that night, Marcus must’ve encountered some divination during his rest. The voice of his late wife echoed in his mind, soft and warm like her lips whenever she kissed him. 

‘We will be reunited, my love. Find me where you laid me to rest.‘ 

He woke up a mere 5 hours later, his heart ardent with the knowledge of what he and his new found ally would have to do. Find Astra. 

Taglist: @jennaispunk @burntheedges @whocaresstillthelouvre @roughdaysandart

If you want to be added to the taglist click here

[haine-kleine]

dunno if I should call this a headcanon or a theory and I know Horikoshi just went with what looked cool but the more I think about Dabi's initial design when he came to the League in the context of what we learned about him and what we saw happen to him during the second war, the less sense it makes that his body was already in that state.

according to the anime, he was learning by watching Endeavor's videos online. before Sekoto, he wasn't learning from any source at all and went about his training intuitively, but after Sekoto I strongly doubt he would be actively practicing his quirk, for a multitude of reasons. his body was still healing from the skin transplantation, the trauma associated with accidentally burning himself to death, plainly not having a place to train a fire quirk, which tend to be flashy and to use your quirk in public, having a provisional license is required, otherwise he risks getting arrested. he did a very good job staying out of the public's eye for the 7 years since he escaped AFO, who was also implied to be unaware of Touya surviving for so long.

so as far as we know, all he did for those 7 years is lay low and be very online. which makes his remark to Spinner hilarious ngl, at least Spinner sprung up to action as soon as he saw something that had inspired him, while Dabi had spent 7 whole years sitting on his very personal trauma and not going to therapy.

when Giran brings him to Shigaraki, he doesn't share any information about Dabi save for him being very invested in Stain's ideology. no criminal records, maybe, but not even a word of his absurdly strong quirk? no mentions of arson at all? they did discuss Toga making it to the news, so Dabi being left out like that was a bit weird in the context of the conversation, like him seeking out Stain's contacts was enough reason to let him join the League. he won't be useful to you, Shigaraki, but he's got the spirit. please take him in, he has nowhere else to go?

if you really look at the way Dabi uses his quirk until MVA, it's noticeable how he seems to have no idea what he is doing. there's no technique, no finesse to his moves, just throwing out huge blasts of fire with his hands and hoping for the threat to leave him alone.

when Shigaraki attacked him (fully provoked) his reaction was too slow to summon any flames at all, and if it weren't for Kurogiri, that would have been it for Dabi.

When he is fighting Geten and starts going beyond his limit, he scares himself with the increased fire output. because, yup, overusing his quirk by accident was the source of his trauma.

the databook puts his technique as the weakest of his stats. his power is huge and eventually allowed him to become the strongest fire quirk user in the BNHA universe, but his technique was extremely lacking.

all of the above just doesn't paint the picture of someone who has been consistently mastering his quirk for 7 years. rather, it gives the picture of someone who had just started using his quirk for the first time in years, having background training from his childhood.

it's not even that Dabi isn't hardworking as hell or doesn't have the potential to be trained, because he's a complete opposite. continuously going beyond his limit, despite his own body getting in his way, mastering Enji and Shouto's complicated techniques they have worked for weeks/months/years on in a matter of minutes after just observing it. surely, he has been watching Enji and learning the way his father uses his quirk for years, but putting theory to practice? i doubt he even had the chance, before joining LOV.

he had to wait, because starting to actively use his quirk sets the clock into motion, counting down the time he has left. he is like a candle, destroying himself with his fire, until nothing is left at all. he had to make sure his plan of revenge will have a chance to succeed before fully committing to the 'Dabi' route, a slow and agonizing process of cremating himself by continuously using his quirk. because when he really starts using his quirk for long stretches of time? this is what happens to him.

to conclude this post, I know why the final design was chosen (because it's cool as fuck) but after analyzing the crucial points of Touya's story and his relationship with his quirk, I really think him joining the League with post-coma design would have made more sense. once he had started really using his quirk, his body would slowly degrade to the state Dabi's was in, because his fire literally melts his skin. but his body already having 40% surface third degree burns, when he didn't even use his quirk the entire time, perfectly holding up up until the first war arc and then quickly starting to burn down? idk, seems a bit inconsistent?..

anyway, i love the concept of Dabi's skin slowly and inevitably burning down after he had joined the League. him losing more and more skin until there's barely anything left, when he reveals himself to his father and is bitter at the lack of recognition, because burning himself to the point of being unrecognizable was one of the many sacrifices he had made to be finally seen by Endeavor.

also, more of this. because this was bittersweet as hell

[moodyvoid]

Another headcanon I enjoy is that, if you’re in the League of Villains, you cannot secretly have a crush on anyone because Toga could clock it from a mile away.

Then she’ll pester you to tell them how you feel.

[autumnmobile12]

The League of Morons vs A Summer Camp

All right, so I love the hell out of this nonsense and I want to talk about the Vanguard's plan and how ridiculous it was.

First, most of the crew showed up a night early and…well, then what?  That first night, Dabi says they’re still waiting on a few more people to arrive.  Okay, so what are you all doing here already?

Did Kurogiri warp them back to the bar after they’d gotten a look at the place?  Scouted the area a bit?  You needed seven people for that? Were they that bored waiting for Twice, Compress, and the Nomu to show up?  What were they doing in the 24 hours between this part and the actual attack?  Standing on that cliff and muttering,  “Heroes…”?

Was Toga all, "Guys, I'm tired. Can we go back to the bar already?"

Spinner: "No, as villain protocol dictates, we must stand here menacingly for a minimum of twelve hours."

Dabi: Fuck you, I'm going to bed.

Except for being a scare tactic, having Dabi start a fire was mostly unnecessary. Their goal was to further weaken society's faith in heroes by targeting UA students, so you'd think he'd be a little more proactive in...well, actually harming someone. As it happened, the fire really only to served to announce there was an attack happening.

But I’ll throw the Vanguard a bone here and say this was Spinner’s doing.  Like their original plan was to start a massive fire that would consume both classes and all the heroes in a singular tragedy, but then Spinner said,  “Hey, pump the breaks, people.  We’re here to uphold Stain’s ideals about toppling the corrupt Hero culture.  Do we really want mass child murder as part of our brand?” Sure, he wanted to go after Iida, but he was a specific target since he was on Stain's hit list.

The two copies Twice made of Dabi were virtually useless in a fight since Vlad and Aizawa both took him out so quickly it was embarrassing.  And yet he’s apparently a big enough threat that No. 1 and No 2. can’t handle him.  Go fig.

Endeavor/Hawks:  Oh, no, he’s too strong…

Aizawa/Vlad:  Listen here, you little shit!

...

Muscular goes and reveals their plan even though he didn’t have to.  They all saw the Sports Festival, they knew what Bakugo looked like, and yet here he is asking Deku where he he can find Bakugo as if he was going to answer him.  Yes, he didn’t think there was any harm in telling him since his plan was to kill Deku anyway, but alerting UA to the fact they were looking to kidnap someone is still just hubris.

Going after Bakugo in the first place was a dumb idea.  We can probably credit that one to Shigaraki because only he would look at the violently temperamental teenager raging on national television and think,  “Yes, he seems like a reasonable person to negotiate with.”

...

Gonna drop in some actual light criticism here: Given the inequality issues that arise in the series later, targeting the heteromorph students for recruitment purposes would have been a smarter move for the LoV.  They’re all part of a demographic that has a justified reason for being dissatisfied with society, so there would have been a believable chance of the LoV thinking they could sway some people to their side.

But hey, the League of Villains was on a learning curve. Give 'em a break.

He totally saw Aoyama here.  Or at least he heard him because he clocked that there was something weird about that bush and he was going to go check it out…and then Twice distracted him and Dabi has an total ADHD moment and forgets what he was doing.

And it's not because Aoyama was the spy. Nobody in the Vanguard knew.

1.) Shigaraki says he tried and couldn't figure out where the camp was, but AFO figured it out relatively quickly. So if even his successor doesn't know who the spy was or called on that resource, then why would AFO tell anyone else in the group?

2.) Moonfish, Muscular, and Mustard were all apprehended, but none of them ratted out Aoyama, as someone with nothing left to lose would. Neither did Kurogiri when he was later apprehended, but that one may have been a loyalty matter. So I think this was a case of AFO saying, "I have a source of info and you don't need to know who it is." Because at the end of the day, AFO is an arrogant narcissist who's definitely not placing all his eggs in one basket. Aoyama wouldn't be an easy spy to replace, so of course AFO would want to limit any chances of him being exposed.

So this was Dabi's screw up.

Speaking of forgetting things, Dabi also straight up forgot they had a Nomu because he thanked Twice for reminding him they had a Nomu.

Sir....how the hell do you forget you have a Nomu?

Toga was supposed to get blood from at least three people.  She failed.

Twice had a simple job. Create clones. He succeeded, but the only two he made were Dabi and I refer you to the previous point on how useless they were.

Spinner and Magne’s roles were a diversion. Distract the Wild, Wild Pussycats and give everyone else the opening to find and kidnap Bakugo.

They did pretty well. Up until the point they were almost caught and Kurogiri had to bail them out. Also Spinner lugged the giant, over-the-top blade contraption all the way there only for Deku to destroy it.

However, they do deserve some credit for making probably the best strategic decision of the group that night, and that was taking out Pixie Bob. We saw on the first day of the camp that she was able to hold back a class of twenty students with an army of earth creatures she was simultaneously controlling. That would have been a huge problem, so for the purposes of their team, good on them for removing that obstacle.

Underrated squad members right here.

Mustard was a legitimate threat for same reasons Dabi and his fire was a threat, plus he brought a firearm into the fight. (I want to know what the other villains thought when they saw that.)

But instead of putting him in the center of the fight where he could do some significant harm, they placed him on the outliers and all he did was knock some students unconscious and everybody made a full physical recovery, showcasing the gas he emitted wasn’t all that lethal and didn't cause any long-term complications. (Again, maybe this was Spinner's idea of Stain's ideology on not indiscriminately massacring children. "Guys, I'm telling you! That's fucked up!")

The Nomu (effectively brain dead without orders) did more damage than any of them, which makes the previous point that Dabi forgot they had it even funnier.

And finally, Mr. Compress was missing for half the night and then almost came in clutch by fulfilling their main objective plus extra credit, only to nearly blow it with his showboating. Seriously, they could have gotten away with both Bakugo and Tokoyami had they just booked it while the going was good.

But no, Compress had to make a dramatic production of it. When he first snatched the kids, he could have just left and Deku and company would have had no idea what happened. Had he just kept his mouth shut and left, they wouldn't have known he even existed. Then as the Vanguard members were leaving through the warp gates, he goes and does it again, giving Aoyama enough time to fire at them with his navel laser, something that also could have bee avoided had Dabi just checked the fucking bush!

The Vanguard Action Squad won by sheer dumb luck and their collective incompetence actually succeeding is the most hilarious thing about this arc. In the end, three members of their crew were arrested.  (Although I think everyone was secretly relieved they lost Moonfish.  Even if he was on my side, I’d be actively worried that guy would kill and eat me in my sleep.)

Yet this self-important twerp is smiling like they actually did something to be proud of here.  All Dabi really accomplished personally was grab a marble (coincidentally the correct marble) before Shouto could, which is borderline more standard older sibling behavior than actual villainy. He literally lost two separate fights in one night and called it a win.

This arc was a five episode Scooby-Doo trap going wrong and succeeding.

Seriously, I hope that after the warp gates closed, they all just looked at each other and immediately started calling each other out on everything. Like Dabi slapped Compress upside the head and asked him what he'd been thinking having 'one last bow' before they got away. Spinner yelling at Dabi about how the clones did nothing. And there's Bakugo all, "I can't believe I've been kidnapped by a gaggle of morons."

Fake it till you make it at its finest.

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 3

Anger Management/Hardcover ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

As Jason was engrossed in the collection of Infinite Realms lore, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in." Jason said absentmindedly finding a stopping point and placing his finger in between the pages to mark his spot. Jeeves let himself in.

"Yes sir, it is dinnertime, I have been sent to escort you to the dining room." He said as he patiently floated.

"Right yeah, let me just find a bookmark-"

"Here you are sir." Jeeves held out a silver feather shaped bookmark from apparently the aether.

"Awesome, thanks." He placed the bookmark in his spot and set it on the side table next to the bed. "Okay, lead the way please."

Once more Jason was led throughout the dark, yet glowing, halls of the High Queen's castle. They passed many different entities, all of which were obviously not human and Jason hadn't seen this diversity of different fashions since he was last at a costume party. There were actual knights with swords and lances, some yeti's with arms full of scrolls, and eight foot tall women with bright blue skin and Amazonian armor, some with multiple arms. There was what appeared to be a wolf-man talking with the knights, in some language that seemed to have some roots in Latin, though other words he could hear were from other areas. Eventually, they arrived at a set of carved wooden doors.

"Here you are sir, the royal family awaits you inside." Jeeves said prepared to open the door.

"Wait, the whole family? I thought it was just Jazz?" Jason was suddenly nervous, he thought he'd have more time before meeting the family.

"It's quite alright sir, tonight it is only the High Queen Regent and High Prince Danny in attendance. I believe she thought the entire family would be a bit much, but the High Prince has a habit of showing up anyway. He is quite protective of his sister." With that bit of advice, Jeeves opened the door.

The room was ornate, though not as large as he was expecting, clearly this was the smaller dining room. Sat at the head of the table in a seat that in some countries would be considered a throne, was Jazz, she still had her helm-crown, but now she was just in the teal toga with clasps shaped like a sun at both shoulders. She still had her arm bracers on, which he expected, if she was trained by an Amazon, then those would likely stay on always.

Sat to her right was a young man, perhaps around 19 years old, with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes. He had been talking animatedly with Jazz when he heard the door open and his eyes snapped to Jason. He was in clothing far more similar to the yeti Frostbite, though in different colors and with a white peasant shirt on. Where Frostbite had gold, Danny had silver, where the yeti had blue, Danny had black.

"So, you're the sacrifice huh?" Danny looked unimpressed at Jason's entire existence. "How'd you manage to get sacrificed? You look like you'd be hard to take down for cultists."

Jason took a moment to process what was said and then made his way to the seat to the left of Jazz. He cleared his throat. "They got me while I was distracted helping a little girl get her stuffie that was stuck on her rusty fire escape. When she was walking away with her mom, I got clocked on the back of the head. Now I'm here." He splayed out his hands as if to say 'what can you do?'

"Hmmm, okay that's fair. At least I know you're not a cretin. What are your opinions on the undead?" He slouched back into his chair with his arms crossed, a critical eye on Jason.

"Danny! I thought I told you no twenty-questions! He hasn't even been here a day, and since I was dealing with paperwork all afternoon, I haven't been able to talk with him yet either." She scolded before she turned to Jason. "I am so sorry about him, I had one bad boyfriend years ago and now he thinks any guy that comes near me has unsavory intentions." She turned back to Danny. "Jason didn't choose to be here, remember? I'm sure the whole sacrificing to an unknown being in an unknown dimension has got to be somewhat traumatic and I don't want to make him relive that if we can help it."

Jason snorted. "Honestly, not even in my top ten most traumatic experiences. This one ranks so far a solid 3/10."

"Really?" Danny quirked an eyebrow. He stared longer at Jason and his eyes flashed that Lazarus green. "Ancients dude, what the hell happened to you?"

Jason sighed heavily. "I mean, Jazz already knows some of it, but," he swallowed heavily, "I died." He took a deep breath. "And then I came back. It hasn't been great since then." He said with a tone of finality, indicating he was done with this line of questioning. Danny's look of judgement turned more understanding.

"Okay, let's say we start dinner then? I'm sure you have some questions for us too." Jazz clapped her hands and skeletons came in with carts full of food. They placed plates in front of each of them and refilled the glasses of water before exiting the room. Upon the plate was a cut of salmon, some roasted asparagus and mashed potatoes. Okay, so they at least have a similar diet to humans. He dug in, and was reminded of Alfred's cooking.

Alfred...

"Would it be possible to get a message to my family somehow? To let them know that I'm alright?" He asked a little desperately.

The siblings traded glances. "It might take a while to pin down the correct dimension, but we should have a record of your time here in the archives, and that should have your dimensional code. You mentioned heroes, maybe we can pin down which one it might be if we can figure out which ones have those heroes?"

"There are heroes in your universe?" Danny perked up at the mention of heroes. Seems like the kid is intrigued by them.

"Yeah, there's a bunch, I don't even know all of them. The big three started an organization called the Justice League. Superman, Wonder Woman and Batman founded it to help protect the Earth."

"What's their deal? What are their powers? Do you know any of them?"

"Danny! What did I say about the twenty questions?"

Jason narrowed his eyes momentarily, thinking. Do I tell them? I did show up in armor with a domino on. "It's alright Jazz, I'm used to being interrogated by younger siblings. It comes with having the Batman as a father and all his birds and bats as siblings." He looked a little smug, bragging about his family where they would never hear him.

Both siblings looked blankly at him. Right.

He blew out a breath. "I forgot you don't know who that is." He took a bite and thought how to describe his family. "So, B is the world's greatest detective, and every one of his kids ended up becoming heroes in their own right. All of us are human, one of us has meta abilities, but we mostly rely on our minds, bodies and tech. Superman is from the planet Krypton, but it was destroyed just after he was born and his parents shipped him off to Earth. He's got a laundry list of powers, but the big ones are super strength, flight, enhanced senses and laser and x-ray vision. Wonder Woman is an Amazon Warrior Princess from Themyscira, she was molded from clay by her mother Hippolyta and trained as the strongest warrior of her people. She's got flight, super strength and the Golden Lasso of Truth." Jazz grasped her bracers when it was mentioned that Wonder Woman was an Amazon. Jason looks directly at her. "I noticed you have similar bracers and armor to her, as well as some of the people I've seen around the castle. Were you trained by an Amazon?"

Jazz looked up with wide eyes, not expecting the connection. She quickly recovered and took a bite of food before responding. "Yes, I was trained by Lady Pandora here in the Realms. When I completed my training, I received these." Jason nodded.

"Wait, Pandora? Like the Box Pandora?"

"Yeah, she's nice, but strict. She's the Ancient of Peace, and trained me in quite a lot before I took the throne. I found I quite enjoy sword fighting."

"Maybe we can spar sometime? Lord knows I get enough practice from the Demon Brat demanding fights all the time." Jason and Jazz shared a smile with each other.

"Demon Brat? Do you have a demon sibling?" Danny asked, startling Jason and Jazz and causing them both to blush lightly. He smirked at breaking up the moment.

"No, I just call him that. He's the only one of us that's biologically B's, but he was kinda raised in a murder cult. When he first came to us, he tried to murder every one of us to gain his 'rightful place as blood son'. Obviously it didn't work, but it was not for lack of trying. Replacement got the worst of it honestly, and the Brat seems to mellow out around Dickwing."

"How many siblings do you have?" Danny asked shocked.

"Uh, that's a good question. Are we talking legal adoption or emotional adoption?"

"What's the difference?"

"Oh probably at lease six people."

"I think your dad has a problem."

"Trust me, you aren't the first to say that and you definitely aren't the last." They all dug into their dinner and there was several minutes of quiet. "So, I guess the biggest thing about my universe would be finding one that has the League and meta-humans. Then find whichever one is missing me that should have me in it."

"Yeah, that's probably a good start, I'll get some of my aides to scour the archives. One team to locate the file about the time you spent here when you were, you know," Jazz hesitated, "Yeah, and then I'll have a team looking for the files on which universes have those heroes you mentioned. If there's any other details you can think of to help us narrow it down, that'd be great." She looked at him earnestly.

He smiled softly at her. "Yeah, I'll let you know. I guess another big one is probably that in that universe, I am known as the Red Hood."

"Oh, is that your hero name?" Danny asked.

"Uh, kinda kid. My methods are often frowned upon by the majority of the hero community, they also don't like that I use guns most of the time." He cleared his throat. "Some people consider me a hero, most just see me as a nuisance crime lord of Crime Alley. Which, I get, I do technically run drugs, but it's just to keep it outta the hands of kids and make sure it's all clean so nobody's dying from contaminated product. It's gonna get sold anyway, I might as well make it as safe as I can. I'm just trying to clean up my city as best I can." He carefully wasn't looking at either of them, they seemed like decent people, they probably would agree with the majority on this particular topic.

Jazz placed a hand over his. "I get it. There are some decisions I have had to make since taking rule that seemed counter-productive to my goal, but any little thing helps. You do what you need, those people are just gonna try and get it elsewhere that's not as safe if you don't provide the service, I'm sure some people are thankful for you." Jason looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. That is, his mind stuttered at how regal she held herself as she was comforting him, leader to leader.

Danny cleared his throat breaking the moment again. Jazz was wide-eyed for a moment before collecting herself and Jason blushed to the tips of his ears. Dinner was cleared by the same skeletons from earlier and dessert was placed before them. It appeared to be a chocolate fudge sundae with hand-churned vanilla ice cream.

"So you mentioned sparring, You gotta spar with me before you can spar with Jazz." Danny pointed at him with his spoon.

Jazz sighed, exasperated. "Danny."

"Nope! You have meetings all day tomorrow, I call first dibs."

"Danny!"

"Come on Jazz, I haven't been able to spar with anyone new in so long. Please please please?"

Jazz rolled her eyes and looked over to Jason. "If it's alright with you? He's right, I'm busy all day tomorrow so I wasn't going to be able to entertain you anyway, and it's probably better than being cooped up in the guest room all day."

Jason shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see why not? It'll be fun, I usually spar with an alternate version of Superman named Bizarro, so I'll go easy on you." Jason smirked, but was startled to find Danny already smirking at him with fanged teeth.

"Oh, you'll regret that." There was a bright flash of white light and suddenly floating there was a color-inverted version of Danny with bright Lazarus green eyes. He winked and flew out one of the windows near the ceiling.

There were a couple awkward moments before either of them spoke. "So, I didn't want to be insensitive at all, but uh, are you guys human? I know you said you were from Earth, but I've met all sorts of different types of beings too." Jazz sighed heavily.

"That's a complicated answer." She closed her eyes and folded her hands on the table. "Let's move to the library, we can discuss more details there." They rose and he followed her out the door and down the corridor.

[jumpy-buggy-33]

⚡️☀️MY PAGE☀️⚡️

🪐She/They🪐

Names-Bugg, B, Bugz, Brenna(my irl name), one of the fast ones, Brenn, Brenns, Brenanana(my mom calls me that)

Birthday-April 14

‼️Minor‼️

Do not message me disgusting things asking for nudes or if I want a sugar daddy. This has happened to me before and I would rather you respect my limits and leave me alone, because the answer will always be “Fuck no.”

⚡️About me ig?⚡️

Sexuality - omnisexual, demiromantic, asexual

Gender - genderqueer

I like drawing, writing, and uhhh just stuff ig😅

I LOVE ASKS/REQUESTS!!

‼️⚠️NO NSFW(the only things remotely spicy that I draw would be tongue kissing or neck bites really, nothing else)(even then I barely draw that stuff), HOMOPHOBIA, QUEERPHOBIA, TRANSPHOBIA, RACISM, INCEST, PEDOS, ZOOPHILES, HARASSMENT, PROSHIPPERS, ETC⚠️‼️

☀️🌼S A F E S P A C E🌼☀️

🌙FANDOMS I’M IN🌙

💫Murder Drones, Lego Monkie Kid, Ninjago, Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel, IT, The Priory of the Orange Tree(I love the book), Mouthwashing, MHA, Sonic(literally anything Sonic)💫

🎋Stuff You Will See🎋

-Art

-Rants

-sketchbook art

-digital art

🌸Ships You Will See🌸

-spicynoodles

-shadowpeach

-nuzi

-PinkLemonade, LizVee, Fizzy, Vlizzy(ship for v and Lizzy)

-tholl(maybe)(ship between Thad and doll)

-chimera(maybe not much)

-dragonfruit(again, not much)

-radioapple

-huskerdust

-sonadow

-toga x Ochako (idk the ship name lolilololo)

Ummm might be more idk

🌼🌸stuff I’ve done🌸🌼

“Stop Talking.”

“Him or the Sun.”

Genderbent Spicynoodles

“Truth or Dare?”

(Not many so far)

🪽⚡️Ao3/Wattpad sneak peeks⚡️🪽

(Some of the sneak peeks are out of order)

Friday, 5-O’-clock 1 2 (Ao3 eventually)

The Flowers on the Mountain Wilt 1 2 (Wattpad)

With You 1 (Wattpad)

Under the Protection of Spider Lilies 1 (Ao3)

🫧AUs🫧

1600s AU 1

Fanfiction

Forgiven AU (shared with @lemonboywriter )

(Not many🥲👌)

⚡️🌊PEOPLE THAT YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY FOLLOW BECAUSE THEY HAVE AMAZING CONTENT🌊⚡️

@keykittygirl

@ollie-arts67

@oddlyvoid

@rat-king463

@reksi-goooo

@night-terrorzz

@echofall

@psychoaddison

@thebritishdragon

@ashmeertheimp

@french-therapist

@lost-terrorzz

@blossomnightshade

@zilverfish-74

@cotton-ii-creme

@shadowmonkieking

@snsp6

@monsterartt

@lemonboywriter

@lyn3y0nard0

🌺I do not do commissions but I will do requests and I’m definitely open to asks!🌺

Other Social Medias:

🪼Twitter - jumpy_buggy-33

☄️Instagram - jumpy_buggy_33

🥀YouTube - B U G G Y(BUGGY-o6u)

💫Ao3 - jumpy_buggy_33

🍁Wattpad - jumpy_buggy_33

🦋Bluesky - jumpy-buggy-33

🫐Discord - jumpy_buggy_33(or Bugzi)

[[Yeah, they’re kinda the EXACT same thing but..]]

🌟WILL CONTINUE TO BE UPDATED MOST LIKELY🌟

[cherrysurf]

villain deku au

-A/n (drabble probably won’t write anything mha again this was js filling my brain not super thought through lwk rushed)based of the song Tv in black and white by lana del rey.

established relationships, the more lovey dovey version of harley quinn and joker expect you’re not a villain.

You’re villain boyfriend has gotten locked up once again. You and him went over this you know he’ll break out in a couple days like he always does right? Unfortunately this time it’s been a bit too long for your liking you’re starting to wonder if anyone knows he’s been locked up You decide to write him a small note and send it to the prison before you take action on how to get him out.

while deku in prison the guards let him not he’s received mail from “orchid” he knew it was you he was the only one who bought you orchids. He knew you used a fake name to make sure they couldn’t associate you with him or tie anything back he lightly laughs about how smart you were when it came to this stuff. The note reads “if you get lonely think of me only prison isn’t going to keep me from you.” he smiles “that’s my girl.” he knew you were coming for him with the league of villains. He was right the next day like clock work they all go in a successfully get deku out the prison and when they get back to the hide out there you are waiting “i told you i wouldn’t let you stay away from me that long” you say running into his arms he laughs “i knew i could count on you to keep track me of doll” he says hugging you back. “let’s get you outta this ugly orange tracksuit” you say and toga laughs “yeah please it’s burning my eyes.” you and deku both chuckle as he goes to kiss you on the cheek.

[cagesofgold]

Sickening - Shigaraki x Reader

Tomura believed himself to be an autodidact when it came to relationships.

He learnt everything he knew through observation. Observation which was carefully curated by his master to fit his exact lense. His lense which was warped by fervent desires and undeniable cruelty. Tomura didn’t recognize himself to be an object until quite recently. A pawn, a play piece, being shuffled across the board of fate with his master’s calloused hands at the center of it all.

So for a long time, his perspective on relationships and love, was irrevocably skewed. He believed it to be superficial, something to pass the time and to distract yourself from the dreariness of reality. The only feeling he ever felt which remotely belonged under the umbrella of these emotions, was lust. But never that ‘Sickeningly sweet’ love, as people would describe it. He saw it as a weakness, and a flawed deferment of facing any form of loneliness. Something most feared, yet for him it was the only feeling he didn’t feel out of place in. The one he knew he deserved.

So why do you make him feel so sick?

The first time you entered he felt it. Trailing behind Dabi’s languid saunter and peeking over Toga’s shoulder. Two curious, beady eyes met his - and he felt his stomach twist.

Initially he told himself it was the sight of Dabi’s rotting flesh, or perhaps he had an undercooked piece of pork with dinner. But when the feeling became more frequent, and coincidentally every-time you were in the room, the fact of the matter drew harder and harder to deny.

He loathed it. He absolutely loathed the feeling. And so he did the only thing he knew to do, twist his inarticulacy into hatred. He told himself he hated you. You were an attack on all senses, with that fruity perfume you’d spray, and your voice which would hum along to the radio whilst mixing drinks behind the bar with Kurogiri. The way your hands would graze his whilst passing a glass of strong-smelling whiskey to his crotchety-sulking self. Zero fear in your movements, you didn’t falter for a second. Not when your fingers touched his that were known for destruction, and not when you flashed him a gentle smile. He promptly left the bar. Drink untouched. And sat in his room plagued by a feeling swirling around him that he didn’t understand.

He thought he could push it down, ignore it entirely, and bury himself in his work. However, that proved to be difficult when you were everywhere he turned. He truthfully considered kicking you out of the league, after all, it wasn’t him that was the problem; It was you…right?

He never brought himself to do it.

The weeks rolled by, and the feeling never subsided. In fact it just got harder and harder to ignore. With your cooking for the league, warm on his tongue, and that sweet fucking perfume. He couldn’t stand it. It had even managed to pry its way into the one thing he thought would be safe. I mean, the feeling would have to go away whilst on missions. He had much bigger priorities than his breath catching in his throat whenever you’d look in his direction. Yet when he saw you battling fiercely with two heroes; he felt it again. Except this time it was different. And he felt as if he had no control over his body. Before he knew it he was rushing to your aid, not that you needed it, and by the time he arrived you looked just as shocked as he did.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

That night he leant limp over his sink, having just splashed his face with cold water, droplets dripping from his skin. Strands of pale-soddened hair stuck to his forehead as he raised a palm, pushing the soggy hair backwards as he retreated from the sink.

He paced around his room silently. The clock read 3:40AM. In bright, blaring crimson numbers. He had to speak to someone. He was gonna explode. He ran through the league, who could he ask?

Kurogiri would most definitely give him the same answer that google did when he had relentlessly searched, “Feeling sick around someone”, and would likely stick a thermometer in his mouth two seconds after. Toga…no. Twice couldn’t ever really give advice, because you never truly knew which aspect of it was how he really felt. Spinner could be an option, but he wasn’t at the base. So that left only one person.

And god, did he hate it.

The loamy smell of cigarettes attacked Shigaraki’s nostrils upon entering. The room was shrouded in dusk, and a thick cloud of smoke hung in the air. He had only ever been in this room once after the occupant had moved in, and it was to decay him after he had once again called him, “More scaly than Spinner” - unfortunately he was halted by Kurogiri before he got the chance.

Dabi’s gaunt figure rest upon his bed, eyes fixated on his window as he flicked a few curling ashes from the cigarette stuck between his lips. His head lay against the pillow, not having noticed the looming presence in his room until his face appeared right above his head.

“Jesus!” Dabi jolted upwards, inhaling a large breath of smoke as he jumped upright, proceeding to clutch his chest as he choked out puffs of smoke. After a moment of panicked spluttering he turned to look at the intruder, rage infused in his usual nonchalant eyes. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, i didn’t say you could come in here.”

Shigaraki scoffed. “Im the leader, I can go wherever I please.”

“Yeah, okay jackass.” Dabi snickered, attempting to push past him in order to stand, only to be shoved back down by Shigaraki. “What the f-“

“Why does Y/N make me feel sick?”

Silence fell over the room. A moment passed, then two. And the shrinking feeling of embarrassment started to creep up Shigaraki’s spine.

“What?” Dabi stared at him in a flat sort of confusion.

“Just what I asked.”

Dabi sighed, bringing a hand through his hair as he reached over to the table beside his bed, rolling his cigarette against the glass ash tray which lay atop a stack of books. “I don’t know, man. It’s four in the morning, I really don’t give a shit about this.”

“Well it’s an order.” Shigaraki said in a surprisingly desperate tone, leaning a little further forward to which Dabi leant further back.

Dabi chuckled, his eyes narrowing in that haunting way they always would when he was about to tease someone. “Why do you care.”

“What?”

“I said why do you care. You act as if you don’t give a shit about anyone, so why do you care if she makes you feel ‘sick’ or whatever.”

Shigaraki seemed taken aback, fumbling with his fingers conspicuously. “I don’t.”

“Right.” Dabi nodded in a superficial manner. “Why you in my room at four then?”

Silence somehow managed to regain its unruly power over the room, only to be ruptured by Shigaraki’s low voice.

“Fuck off” He seethed, turning on his heel as he advanced towards Dabi’s bedroom door, swearing under his breath as he knew he shouldn’t have bothered.

His hand met the doorknob, twisting it in his hands as the dim light from the hallway melted into the room which grew smaller behind Shigaraki’s retreating figure.

“Maybe you want her.”

Dabi’s voice halted Shigaraki’s movements, his hand pausing on the doorknob, loosening and then tightening in anxious realisation.

It couldn’t be that. It wasn’t that. Those thoughts kept floating around his brain but for some reason it didn’t translate to the rest of his body, as that dreaded feeling returned and his skin felt hot. Burning and feverish. He hated you. He hated your smile, your face, your gentleness. Your pure, unbridled talent and strong heart. He hated all of it. He hated you.

What did wanting someone even mean?

Sure, sometimes when your hand would dust across his, he’d wish he could hold it. Sure, when you’d laugh at something Twice said he would wish it was him that evoked that reaction. And sure, sometimes his eyes would trail after you as you left the room, his mind wondering when you would return and he would never fully return to reality until you did.

Somehow, Dabi of all people had pierced the veil of denial he cast over his heart all those months ago. And now it thumped in his chest happily and free of wrongful convictions.

He left the room without another word and Dabi didn’t stop him. And for the first time in your entire time of being here he managed to sleep soundly. The following morning he arose feeling lighter and when he sat at the bar - rubbing sleep from his eyes - he watched as your figure darted across the liquor lined shelves, mumbling to yourself as you replenished the stock everyone had heartily drunk through.

He wanted you more than anything. He knew that. And he knew the feeling in his chest wasn’t hatred, it was the opposite.

And even though you were right in front of him, he knew it was a feeling he’d die with.

Unless it killed him first.