#also sometimes shit happens in combat I didn’t intend

[ashmcgivern]

I’m playing BG3 and sat in character creator for a few hours and made a couple different choices… I eventually settled on my tief sona. Which I don’t often play self inserts in games but there’s a first time for everything.

However.

A buddy of mine who played it a lot in early access told me that the guardian is intended to be ~sexy~ which, while I’m not sure whether or not it’s just him being the way he is, sparked an idea in my acespec brain.

I DONT KNOW WHAT IT MEANS YET BUT. BEHOLD. MY CLONE.

[astaroth1357]

Brothers React to a Demigod MC 

So, I've gotten some interest to do a Brothers follow-up to a previous request of mine (Undateables React to a Cute, Badass MC), however, I've thus far refused to write one. Honestly, this HC actually plays on a trope I personally dislike and had it not been a request I would have never done it to start with. I just can't see any reasonable way a non-magic human can beat a bunch of demons, I just can't, and that hinders my imagination quite a bit. …But someone who’s not so human? That I can get behind. Fair warning, I grew up with the Percy Jackson series so that’s going to paint quite a bit of how I see modern demigods. Ready for things to get super-ultra fanfic-y for a bit?

Intro:

The day to kidnap bring the exchange students to the Devildom has finally come and the demons have all gathered in the Council Room to open their portal to the human world. Really, things started without a hitch - the portal opened with and their future student dropped down out of it and landed on the floor… before they suddenly leapt up, pulled out a weapon, and lunged at them!

… This isn’t your normal human, it is?

Lucifer

Oh Devil, this couldn’t have been any farther than what they wanted… They were looking for a human and they managed to pull out a halfling! A divine halfling no less!! Why wasn’t this in their file?!

Look, Lucifer might not be on good terms with his father, but even he knows he had it better than any children of the pagan gods… The levels of petty vindictiveness that run through that bunch are literally the stuff of legends...

After he and Barbatos were able to restrain the MC before they hurt themselves or anyone else, Diavolo explained everything to them and gave them a pardon for attacking the Demon Prince on sight… After they identified themselves and their parentage, Lucifer knew they were in for some shit…

He and Diavolo had to iron out an apology letter to their godly parent for days just to keep from saying anything that could accidentally cause a second Troy or worse... It was a mess...

But on the bright side, the “human” came pre-prepared for fighting monsters and demons, which honestly took a bit of a load off his shoulders. That’s less responsibility for Mammon - and in his experience, the less responsibility Mammon has, the better things usually turn out.

… Though their ability to actually hold their own in a fight did make things complicated sometimes - like whenever he was their perceived opponent... 

He wasn’t expecting to have to manage a being that was actually capable of meeting him toe-to-toe on the battlefield and it did hinder his intimidation factor to some degree…It was hard to be threatening to someone who’s likely faced worse than you could ever offer.

In the end it probably worked out for the best, as a live exchange student is better for Diavolo than a dead one - but man did it get on his nerves until they made their pact together… Be scared of him, dammit!

Mammon

The first time he tried to threaten the human, they straight up pulled out a weapon and looked like they were ready to whip his ass!! Didn’t they know he wasn’t being serious?? 😫

He really didn’t know why he had to be on babysitting duty, anymore... This huma-er demigod could handle themselves just fine!

When he first ditched them with Levi, he later found out they managed to cleanly toss his brother over their head and make a break for it all by themselves! And Levi’s no pushover either!!

Later, he saw them getting ambushed on their way back from school and they soundly knocked out about five demons before he even caught up to them… and he’s, like, fast and stuff… 

Their strength is kind of unreal at times, but he could tell they were still far from a mindless killing machine. They were more or less a normal person, they had wants and dreams like anybody else, but they just happened to be a long stronger than the average mortals around them. 🤷‍♀️

After he eventually got to know them and a bit about how their life worked, he felt a little bad for them... Who wants to be hunted down just for being born?

After learning about their struggles, Mammon ended up resolving to help keep them safe (even if a part of him knew they didn’t need him that much).

I mean, if the whole world’s against you, then you can use all the help you can get... right?

Leviathan 

Levi found out exactly one thing about them within the first two minutes of meeting them… their reflexes were killer.

After Mammon ditched them on Day One, he tried to drag the human to his room to tell them his genius plan but they broke out of his grip and threw him flat on his back like was just second nature! 

He was stuck on the ground for a full minute, trying to process what just happened, while they ran off into the House all alone…

Did he just get tossed around… by a human?? Was he really that pathetic!?!

Finding out later that they were actually half-god certainly helped out his self-esteem because, man, if he had lost so easily to a human of all things... He might have just never left his room again…

Levi pretty much kept his distance from them until they finally made a pact together and then he discovered that the MC wasn’t so scary after all. If he’s being honest, being in the same house as a demigod was actually kind of cool...! 

Like, it was almost exactly the plot of the show: “Wait, I Thought I Was the Son of a Pagan God So What Am I Doing in a Christian Hell??” but their MC seemed to know a lot more about fighting than the protagonist of that show ever did…

Plus, because he never had to worry about their safety, he had even more excuse to never leave his room. Win-win!

Satan

A demigod, eh…? He had done plenty of research into human world mythologies in his spare time, frankly he thought the old gods had died out - but it seems they were still up and kicking… and making babies for whatever reason? Horny bastards...

Satan's original interest in the MC was purely academic. It’s not everyday that you get to meet someone of such a unique heritage and he fully intended to learn if all the legends about their greatness were true… and well...

He could say that the MC was certainly different than how he pictured humans being. He’d never met very many before, but from what he could gather they were a weak race that really got by on wit and persistence… However, nothing about the MC was weak.

Their aptitude for combat was surprisingly sharp, both in skill and reflexes. He had once blown up at them in anger and not only did they dodge his swipes but they got in a good few hits themselves with a nearby lamp… He never once thought a mortal could give him a black-eye but, somehow, they pulled it off. 🤷‍♀️

Combine their physical skill with what magical gifts were granted to them by their godly-half and they were a force to be reckoned with… Even Solomon seemed to hesitate and think more about his actions around them (which is saying something for a sorcerer of his strength).

It’d be fair to say a part of him grew to respect the MC long before they ever made their pact and that respect only grew afterwards. If he had to be bound to any master, human or otherwise, he’d rather it be one that he could right about consider an equal not only as a friend, but in strength as well.

Asmodeus 

A demigod…? Oooo, he hadn’t come across one of those since he bedded Aeneas all those centuries ago… Such a gorgeous man, got all his looks from his mother~! 🤭

Asmo was probably the most interested in their godly heritage, but it felt like he was treating them like a zoo exhibit for a while… Something pretty and new to look at, but not exactly someone he wanted to know personally...

He openly and readily admitted that watching their little demigod in action got him hot and bothered (or well, more hot and bothered than usual ) but it didn’t take him to see they weren’t interested at the time…

He decided that he just had to have a pact with them after they saved him from Henry 1.0! It was before he noticed the giant snake and he was lurching back to strike, but the human swept in to knock him out of the way. They probably could have made mince meat of the creature themselves if Levi weren’t begging for them to spare his former pet...

Post-pact Asmo treated them with a lot more respect… but also still fanboyed over their fighting skills hardcore. 

Like, their body had to be fit to keep up with all those monsters, right?? What was their training routine? Could he watch?? Oh please say he can watch!! He just can’t get enough of that fighter’s physique…! 😍

Beelzebub 

So… the human isn’t a human but only part human? And the other part is a god? Does that make them any sturdier than normal humans…? Call him curious…

Beel was probably one of the few brothers who was legitimately weary of the MC from the beginning… He can get a certain feel for a person pretty quickly and something about them just felt…frankly, kind of dangerous.

But they also intrigued him a little… Beel’s used to being one of the strongest demons in any room he walks into (not a boast, just a fact) so for him to get that feel from a mortal was pretty impressive. A part of him just wanted to test them… you know?

So. He did. He asked them to help him train his martial arts one day and even with his awareness, he was not expecting the results that he got.

The MC was strong. Very strong. They were not only able to keep up with him and dodge his blows, but they were able to predict his moves and counterattack in kind. They didn’t even need to tell him that they had actually been fighting for their life for years, he could tell. They had a skill you don’t get from practice matches...

After that point, the two would go to each other to train and keep their skills sharp… but also just to spar for fun. Their fighting styles made a pretty good match and they bonded pretty damn quick because of it. 

If anime tells us anything, when you find a good fight buddy, you stick with them. Even if one’s part god and the other is a demon. 🤷‍♀️ 

Belphegor 

A demigod is still human enough to hate, sorry MC. Not that he knew about their godly heritage at first…

Really, he should have been a little more suspicious of how easily they seemed to take to life in the Devildom... Weren’t demons supposed to scare humans? Why did they seem so comfortable down here...?

His confirmation only came when he tried to enact the final part of “Use the MC to Escape the Attic!” plan and take their life to seal the deal… but oh boy, was he outclassed real quick… 

The MC had already socked him in the jaw by the time he got his full demon form out and then they threw him across the room by the tail… the TAIL!! And it hurt like a bitch, too!! Even during the full blown fight that followed, he could tell they were holding back and it pissed him off something fierce...!

Why was the MC so strong?!? Humans weren’t supposed to be strong!!!

His brothers heard all the commotion and the Lilith confrontation ended up happening up in the attic between a somewhat beat-up Belphie and a barely-scratched MC. Had Beel not come to his defense on instinct, it might have turned out worse for him in all honesty… Something about that human just wasn’t right…

He only found out about their god-half after everything settled down and he promised not to try killing them again (not that anyone thought he could...) and that put some things into perspective. So the Lastborn Ruler of Hell isn’t as strong as one mortal demigod…? Ouch. Okay, fine then... Whatever...

He does think it’s too bad he missed them beating the crap out of the rest of his brothers, though (minus Beel)... That would have been fun to see. 😔

So I tried to keep this one God-parent neutral, but I’ve upgraded this to its own series! Check it out if you’re interested! 😊

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes

[thekitschdiet]

my take on the literary masterpiece, the chic diet

Firstly, I am no one. It’s part of my charm. My fifteen minutes of fame was years ago, when I had an instagram niche meme page. I didn’t even take any brand deals! And my posts averaged six thousand likes! Anyhow. I am hardly literate and well hydrated and carry a small sephora-CVS-hybrid worth in my mini tote bag. Here is my guide on how to live like me, the intermediate kitsch-rat, aspiring influencer. But like, in an apathetic, somewhat dissonant, ironic way. I like saying I live by dogmatic principles. But a lot of it, um, is just eating disorder rituals. But that’s not really important. You’re as hot as you say you are, and as much an authority on what you write so long as you say it with, you know, conviction. It’s kind of venerable how fucking delusional I am, actually. Giving any sort of advice like I’m anywhere close to the ritzy ideal of the amphetamine-areyouami label-american. New York, ideally. West Village, preferably. But I guess the kind of guide I can write is better suited to someone living in a suburb, in a house with the twelve-paned windows. I always thought those were so chic. SO quaint, in a somewhat luxe way. Like, Connecticut vibes. My parents used to drive me up there as a child to buy books and ice cream. Nowadays I’d opt for a matcha latte with novelty ice cubes, but I guess at the time it was pretty sweet. 

Because I popped a Vyvanse at like, 10pm, this next little bit could go one of two ways. I will write the most articulate, brilliant piece of literature of my life. Magnum opus, if there was a skinnier word for it. Or, I will get wrapped up doing something like folding all my last-season knits (which is part of my look, okay! I don’t have a job!) and fixating on a paragraph on how a girl’s collarbones are almost as identifying as a fingerprint, or a signature. I’m not a graphologist, but if you write your A’s with the little tail on top (like on a computer), you’re probably a snake. Nothing personal, just an observation. Also, I do have a biology final to study for. Not that I’m super anal, or even particularly committed to academia, but even in my precariously manicured (read that as separate terms; I did a good job on my nail polish, okay? But I happen to also be teetering on the brink of an epiphany or a collapse. Hence the use of the word precarious.) state, I know it’s important enough I can let one of my countless side-quests sit idle for a couple more days. 

The first section seems only natural to be about hydration. And the whole idea of drinking things, really. There was a section in The Chic Diet about Adderall dry-mouth, which deeply resonated with me. Once I bit off a chunk of a Nivea Strawberry Shine (my favorite lip balm, more on that later) and swished it around my mouth. Didn’t help. Really, really didn’t. Anyway, I suppose that even if it served no purpose for combatting my prevacatingly ingenious cottonmouth solution, I was able to milk a sentence or two out of the experience. “Do it for the Vine”, all grown up! And wearing bananapapaya resin hoops too. Side note, that Etsy shop is a parasocial enemy of mine. It stems from jealousy, which sucks, but hating from inside a club I’m adjacent to is much healthier than being a hateful individual towards people I would, you know, interact with. Daily. Or something. I stopped going to therapy because I felt stupid about going and I don’t live in the right kind of town to warrant vacuous $300 hours. Bitching about my well-adjusted parents and how desperately I wished my anxiety would just “go away” was plainly gross, and a waste. Like, pretty sure almost every problem I have could be solved by a couple painful conversations taking place during a hurricane. Such a shame it doesn’t rain much here. Anyhow, I digress. 

Staying hydrated. It is essential to my character, my persona, if you will; to never be without either an elegant metal bottle (I’m loyal to the smooth enamelled S’well ones, printed to look like marble or a semi holographic solid) or a little 16oz tumbler with a metal straw. Hydroflasks were some of the worst things to happen to society. I want to preface this claim with the fact that I wanted one in the same way a teenage girl wants a new iPhone so she can keep up appearances with her dermatologist-dad friends who still have the XR, by the way. But I ended up spending the money on like, a minidress at Brandy Melville before it fled my city. Or maybe a Fresh Sugar tinted lipbalm. For the better, even though the dress has a busted zipper now and the lipbalm tube has inevitably gotten dinged and dented by the other contents of my mini-totebag. Unlike a car, though, a couple scuffs on your laptop or your luxury lipbalm tube looks kind of cool. Like, you’re not someone who values the pristine, unused quality of an item that was ambiguously intended to be used versus displayed on Instagram.  Now, I’m wondering why this paragraph about hydration is so fucking impossible to stay on track for. I literally drink several litres of water a day, and more tea on top of that. And sometimes an almond milk latte if I can budget it in. Not that I’m so anorexic I can’t afford a 45cal latte. They’re just not that important to me. Anyhow. Drinking lukewarm (on the cool side) water is better than ice-cold. Partially because I just get it out of the tap of my ensuite and I can’t be bothered to wait for it to run cold enough every time, and it just seems wasteful. Plus, there is something so.. skinny about drinking water at an “obscure” temperature. Trust me, I want to know why my thought process is like this too. My favorite tea is blueberry tea foraged in a side aisle at my local supermarket. I love a good commercial, high-end steep or fruit infusion as much as the next girl. Maybe more. My pantry is filled with tins labelled with things like “emerald jade organic” and “magic potion”, which is really just currants and butterfly pea flowers. But there is a necessary glamor about drinking dirt-cheap tea on the daily. Seriously, a box of 25 sachets is like, $3. At a higher point with my, um, Adderall problem, I spent like several times that on pills. I didn’t really need to include that, and could have linked the price point to the cost of a drugstore lipbalm, but I wrote it in. And I’m married to it, stubbornly, as all amateur writers should be when they wittle in a somewhat indecorous little joke. This tea is sooo good because it has a strong fruit-reminiscent taste (not as sweet as a fresh blueberry, but who wants that anyway?), it’s zero-calorie, it’s the most GORGEOUS color ever. The latte, the third drink in my little trifecta, is nothing special. But necessary. The trick is to use a milk frother to whip up sugar free syrup with instant coffee and a little bit of hot water in a glass. It’ll make the most luscious foam.. Top it off with almond milk. My dad is a coffee purist, owning both an upstairs keurig AND a downstairs one (among other more analogue methods, but I can’t name-drop, so what’s the point?), so he hates this drink. Now, calling oneself a plebian is so unglamorous and teetering on self-deprecating territory, dangerously close to insecurity. But I can use it here because I am at least posh enough to have a different pair of earrings for every outfit I could possibly come up with, and I only wear Patagonia if I am in a situation where I just have to wear fleece. Like I was saying. It’s such a simple drink, certainly not a delicacy, and… I had a joke about the word plebian but I keep getting up to refill my water and I fear I have forgotten about it. 

Next section; the importance of a good tinted balm

In the intro I alluded to how a girl’s collarbones function essentially as an identifier, the way a signature or fingerprint does. This is a lie, or at least an exaggeration. But one’s ultimate tinted lipbalm is  actually extremely indicative about who you are, as a person, as a member of society, even… 

If you are loyal to Dior Lipglow, I have a couple questions. One; did you shoplift one tube, once, and refill it with cheaper stuff afterwards? I did that. I consider it one of my better-kept secrets, but now you know. Might as well explain the catalyst for my parent’s first separation now, and the horrifying experience that was meeting my dad’s Manhattan sugar baby (?) at the age of thirteen, wearing an overalls dress from, like, Topshop or something else equally embarrassing. .. Kidding. I digress. It’s such a fancy lipbalm, and good too! It smells like thin mints! But I could just never justify cell phone monthly installation payment money on something I will inevitably talk off. I do own three, but two I stole (before I lost the nerve, somewhat unfortunately) and one, a boy(not)friend bought for me. This is not something I feel any remorse about, because his house was easily four thousand square feet and his sisters had a dedicated all-glass room for their shared peloton. Oil money. Ugh!

My personal favorite lip balm, and I have tried a frightening amount, has got to be the Nivea Fruit Shine collection. The frosted one is shit-ugly. Hideous. But the strawberry one is the love of my life. It’s such a pleasant red, looking healthy and rejuvenated and really completes any look. Only downside is it will always, hopefully not always, remind me of Charles. Kissing Charles, specifically. And him asking me what lipbalm it was, because he knew I was somewhat frivolous and definitive and would have a very long answer. But for whatever reason, I simply stated it was from “out of town”. Not really sure why I said that, but it plagues me (minorly) to this day. Of all the things to make up.. .. The peach one is a perfectly demure spring classic shade. Cherry exists too, but the only tube I have ever had the fortune of owning was purchased in Costa Rica and lost somewhere on the way home. Honestly tragic, it was the juiciest shade. Blackberry is perfect too, but I have to layer it with either peach or untinted lipbalm to avoid what I imagine TooPoor would choose if she believed in tinted lipbalm. I don’t mean this hatefully, I think she’s a queen, but super dark, smudgy makeup suits the eyes better in my opinion. Or something. Or something.

Afraid to bore the reader, I have to move on now. Maybe at a later date I will release an addendum on my ultimate lipbalm buying guide. But also, that is so deeply personal (and everyone needs the excuse of “hunting for the perfect staple shade!!”), so it is really not my place to have any authority on something so intimate and subjective. Etcetera. 

Moving on; Decorating your room

Here is a section I lifted out of my memoir document. It fits, because as enigmatic as I hope I am, I am also quite unchanging.

 I just pushed three hangers and two tiny strappy tops with the tags still on, off my bed. Most nights, all, these days, actually; I spend in my large but cluttered bedroom. I have a little ensuite with a jetted tub I’ve never used because I just never get around to it. There’s a plush grey rug, spanning the expanse of the room (covering an ugly cherry wood that doesn’t match the rest of the house; no clue why. I never asked, and the previous owners were eager to sell so they could finally ditch this town and retire in Montreal for the bagels, or Hawaii for the monk seals. Point is, I’ll never know) with loose beads and loose pills and little shards of glass from plier-crushed beads. I vacuum every day. The whole room tells you exactly the kind of person I am; the clutter I possess, the encapsulation of the projects I start, start, start and the hours I don’t sleep for and the clothes I tried on (these to sell, these to cut up with kitchen scissors; thrifted lululemon and aritzia and heaps of knits and plaid fabric..) I would not say the room is a mess. Lived in, maybe. Chopsticks and mugs and gum wrappers. Single dangle earrings. I just finished the last of my Creme Brulee eos lipbalm; disguised as a relic of 2015, I was gifted it Christmas of ‘20. I think my next waxy conquest will be a tinted Burt’s one I palmed a while back, before I lost the nerve. Peering around the room you will see shopping bags strewn about the mouth of my walk-in closet. Every surface has something shiny or colorful stacked up on it. Cluttered, busy, but intentional. Except for the walls, which are bare. Bare and gray and miles-tall when I lie flat on my back, high out of my mind, willing things to change but knowing I’m responsible for a first step I will always be too scared for. Bare, pristine, no gumtack. Empty, Like they’re waiting. I wait around a lot. It makes sense. That was an awful lot of words about my stupid blank walls when truly it does not bother me that much; I really just don’t get around to it. I have other things on the ground to tend to, like post-email nausea, addressing envelopes, marrying wire and bead.  Writing a document I care about because I am determined and I am alive, alive, alive, goddammit. 

Excerpt over. The memoir is coming out when I get famous, or something earth shattering happens. Like I become the world’s least remarkable entrepreneur, and I get retweeted by Colorpop. I don’t want to be the next Elizabeth Wurtzel. I read two of her memoirs one restless night, absorbing it to make up for the nutrients I didn’t that day (you can laugh. I think that is pretty clever), heart breaking a little bit. She writes about her struggles so intrinsically, you either get it, or you don’t. Anyway. She had the books and the fame from it, and she wrote more memoirs than I think a single person should. That is admirable. Aspirational, even. But I do not want to be like her. Where was I? Oh. Yes. Decorating/adorning/filling your room. Your room should serve as the kind of place to watch a movie (if you believe in film. I don’t) and put on ridiculous glittery eye makeup, or smoke an ~artistic cigarette~ or stay up all night on the phone, which is different from staying up all night simply on your phone. Chatting with someone you are tepidly in love with is much more exciting. Not chic as the whole affair is so juvenile, but fun regardless. It’s somewhere to keep your worldly possessions, too. I know I have a lot! Also, it is kind of thrilling to hide things in your room in little crevices only you know about. Now, unfortunately, everyone reading this will know too. But, like, I trust you not to really.. do anything about it. I keep my extra juul pods in the sliding box my apple pencil came in. That box is almost more useful than the pencil itself. I’m somewhat morally opposed to the iPad. Whole culture is so embarrassing! I have a tea tin with an ounce of golden teacher shrums in it. This is tossed in my closet among tins filled with other things, like lace trim and buttons. Which makes it actually a pretty terrible hiding spot, I see now… Anyhow. Keeping benign little secrets like that is so fun. You can tell I don’t have siblings. I sort of wish I did, but it is easier to believe there is something aristocratic about being an only child. Not sure if older-sister me would be egalitarian enough to share things. But that’s prophesying, which is kind of a waste of time. I live in the now, in a room positively cluttered with meaningless things that mean the world to me, chewing on my lip because my mouth is just so dry and 5gum is just not an after-8 indulgence. To live truly kitschly, you have to have somewhat hideous decor. Now, do not confuse dissonant, or incoherent, with what I mean by “hideous decor”. The kitsch room has as many surfaces to look at as possible, while also shying away from too many shelving units. Then you risk your room looking like a storage unit or something. When my mom renovated (re: paid someone to do it) our New York house so we could sell it, all our stuff was stacked up in a Cubesmart self storage. It was sort of horrifying, seeing my childhood home reduced to plastic storage tubs piled what felt like thirty feet high. Anyway. It’s just not an  inviting way to store things; I imagine it makes your room look like your stuff is all trapped in gelatin. The more fussy, tiny things you have out in the open, the better. Nail polish. Earring trees. Bowls full of rings and lighters and water color pans perched on your windowsill. A rack with the tackiest assortment of knits and bucket hats and baguette bags. And so forth.. Quickly surveying someone’s room is so telling. Bonus points if all your books are spine-in, except for your favorite ones, because you don’t want people to get the wrong idea. (that you read). 

[westwingwolf]

In this post, I go into a long, defensive character/ship study for reflection after New Blood so for the sake of not clogging the tag and anyone who doesn’t want to see it or doesn’t want to be spoiled, it’s under the cut.

I think if you are looking for Tim to apologize for some of those early days, you are going to be disappointed. At least for a while. Because Tim sees a lot of what he did as practical training methods he’d use on any other rookie. Whether that’s right or wrong in your opinion, doesn’t matter. It’s how Tim sees it and therefore how the writers intend for him to see it. For all else, any time Tim crossed a line: he was called out, acknowledged it himself, apologized and/or thanked Lucy for her help.

A lot of those things were what Tim was going to do to any rookie if he thought that was the type of training the rookie needed. Tim says he is a show type of guy. He isn’t just going to tell a rookie the wrong or right method. He is going to create a scenario in which they learn it the hard way but in a safe, controlled environment. He was going to kick Jackson out of the car if he got the answer wrong, but Jackson got it right. And when he realized Jackson needed a different type of training to help him get over his fear of gunfire or quit or else Angela would get fired, he changed his tactics. And both times literally end up saving his own life. Lucy knew exactly where she was when she radioed that Tim had been shot. Jackson ran down the armed guy shooting at Tim because Tim said if he couldn’t get into the fight to stay in the car, so Jackson found a way around that.

The way Lucy words it, it doesn’t sound like she believes that Tim tormented her all through the job. Just that first day (well, and the second but I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt that those first 2 shifts can be treated like a first day) and some time after. Because the next thing she mentioned as a month later is the bathroom incident. That happened the day Tim came back to work after being shot. In between time which she spent an entire shift with Officer Wrigley(?) who was nice and treated her like a rockstar, and was boring because he wouldn’t take interesting calls. She is stuck with that until Tim questions if she is just going to let a criminal get away when she can do something about it. She called him a pain in her ass which he responded was the job. In that moment you can see that Lucy is not going to back down, and that Tim sees this as how to best train her. Their reactions of each other shows a mutual understanding of the other and the start of an acceptance. And maybe Tim does torment Lucy a little all through the job just to keep her on her toes.

As to the bathroom incident: in Amber, Harper made a point of saying how important it is to find a proper bathroom so that’s obviously something they teach at the academy or veterans learn through experience. And Lucy knew to secure the bathroom which she did. Just not enough. And Tim knew that would probably happen so he took advantage of that. Just as he would if any other rookie who needed that type of training had done that. This happened before he got the call about Isabel. The things he did after, intentionally starting a fight with the biker gang, that was out of line because he was upset about Isabel. And Lucy called him out on that. Just as she has done every time since Tim has stepped over the line.

I don’t believe Lucy actually gets triggered when she walks into a shoe store. Exaggeration to prove a point through humor. I laughed anyways. Especially since I’m sure the things that actually trigger Lucy are more like complete darkness and locked in confined, tight places. Does he say boot more than anyone else? Yes. Does that change depending on the outward image Tim is trying to convey? Also yes. The hardass Tim was those first few days/weeks/months (depending on which timeline we are going with) is not who he truly is. And Lucy knows that. She sticks up for him more than anyone. She calls him out on his shit, but also reminds him he is a good person. That side of him only comes back out when he truly fears not being tough will cause a setback. Such as when he yelled at her for having something in her gun hand other than her gun after Chris was shot and his TO pointed out that he told him how to proceed and his rookie didn’t listen. And Lucy wasn’t even mad at Tim about that because by then she knows him and what he is like. All her anger was at Emmett for stepping in where he shouldn’t. Because Lucy can handle herself, and she can handle Tim. Which Tim knows perfectly well and has said so. If Lucy was truly so upset by all that Tim has done, she wouldn’t insist that they are friends. Yes, she was eager to get out of training, but she also took the time to ensure that they had proper acknowledgment as to the closure of her training. And an acceptance that they would be friends from this point on was admitted by both of them in that “see you tomorrow.”

I’ll grant you the lessons can go overboard, but they actually work. When Lucy was in that bomber’s house after he set a bomb, she told Harper to get clear of the house and radio for help. Why? Because she learned that radio frequencies can sometimes set off bombs. She never forgot that lesson. And used it as payback for Tim later so double bonus.

So here is where Lucy can differ from any other rookie trained the same way by Tim. She learned those lessons and remembers them later when she is more or less by herself. It’s not just something that can be told and hope you remember when the necessary time comes. It is something lived through experience, again in a safer and more controlled environment, that she remembers. Maybe not all rookies would, but she did. And where she differs is how she gets Tim back anytime she feels he needs payback: stealing his money clip, giving him her bar tab as an evaluation, giving him his own powder bomb, etc. Things no other rookie would dare try, and he lets her get away with it. Because I think he actually likes that he found someone who can match his diabolical ways. Honestly, if these two weren’t such good people at heart, they’d pair up to be the world’s greatest supervillains.

Jackson called Lucy out on why would she want Tim to torment someone else if she hated how he treated her. So either she didn’t have that big of a problem with it or she doesn’t like the implication that it was something wrong about her that Tim felt warranted that kind of treatment. Yes, Lucy needs praise. She has always needed praise. Especially from authority figures. (Yes, I know the implications of that from a shipping POV, but if you are already shipping Chenford, you’re either ignoring it or waiting until it’s no longer an issue or both.) It’s clear from her relationship with her parents that she at first tried to get it from them. That’s why she studied psychology. To please them. And once she found what she wanted and stuck with it, she thought they’d be happy for her and she’d get that praise but she didn’t. She is still looking for it in her life. So she looks at this situation as there must have been something wrong with her and somehow the new rookie is better. Which Tim disproves. It wasn’t about her being less than; it’s about her being different and needing different training tactics. And her differences are actually things Lucy values, and Tim values too (clearly as he is tried to get Barnes to see policing as helping people and not as engaging enemy combatants. Plus take a look at how Tim treats people in the community even ones he previously arrested. He still tries to help them.) But Tim recognizes Lucy also needed a different perspective even if her perspective still ultimately wins out. Which Lucy acknowledges in Resolutions. She still chooses to be a cop in her own way. She still values empathy and compassion first and foremost. Seeing the world as the scary place it can be just rounds out her perspective, but it doesn’t overwhelm it. And Tim stopped pushing that perspective after Lucy found out just how scary the world can be. Because Lucy has been though all of that, gained perspective but still stayed true to herself, she is a good cop. Again, something Tim acknowledged. He disavowed her of the idea that she was somehow less, explained his position, and complimented her with probably the highest compliment he could give someone: the respect of being a good cop.

That difference in how Tim & Lucy approach things is what made them such a great partnership. Tim sees things with suspicion first, compassion second. While Lucy is compassion first, suspicion second. They both quickly adapt to either, but also help the other with finding the necessary POV. So they hardly ever miss anything because if one doesn’t see it, the other will. They are complimentary but not so stubborn in their own initial POVs that they force the issue making things worse. If one is passionate in their belief, the other will follow their decision.

So here is my point: whatever they went through before, good and bad, does not have a drastic effect on discouraging their friendship (and possibly romantic relationship). All of that is more or less fond (okay not so fond) memories. They understand each other, have forgiven each other (Lucy more than Tim because Tim crossed more lines), accepted their faults, encouraged each other, acknowledged each other, and basically formed a lasting bond that is more than TO/rookie and even more than most friendships can be lucky to have. Perhaps even more than most romantic relationships get. And frankly, holding any past mistakes over each other’s head to the point of disgruntlement would not lead to a healthy relationship. Which is why I don’t think Lucy truly holds what Tim did against him. I think it was as it appeared: wondering why the new rookie was treated differently and if that is a reflection on her. Which it wasn’t in any negative way. But to make her point about the differences, Lucy had to list the ways Tim handled everything in their early days. And to make his point, Tim clearly explains the differences and what necessitates that difference. An apology for any of that would negate the point he was making. If Lucy was truly upset in any lasting way, she wouldn’t have immediately worried about Barnes, and she wouldn’t have been so happy at Tim’s compliment.

Will Tim ever apologize for the early days? Maybe. Maybe not. Does he need to? I don’t think so. Not for me anyways. Because Tim is a show me type of guy, and he has shown Lucy in so many ways how much he values her. And Lucy has shown that that means more to her than anything.

[swaps55]

Eulogia

With MELE imminent, sharing a scene I wrote a long time ago, in which Kaidan Alenko mourns Ashley Williams after Virmire, and discovers he isn’t mourning alone. 

From here. 

~

The cargo bay was quiet when the elevator doors opened. Most of the crew had dispersed to the Citadel, leaving Kaidan mercifully alone in the cavernous space. Slowly he made his way towards the lockers, the scar tissue and healing sinews in his abdomen like a knot that someone had doused with gasoline and set on fire.

But still healing.  

(This is it. This is how I’m going to die.)

Kaidan exhaled.

If he closed his eyes he could still see the numbers in his HUD, always hovering right above zero, a perpetuating terminus never quite reached, never quite avoided.

When he reached the lockers he stopped, hand halfway to the one marked, Williams, A.

If he went by the book this should be Gladstone’s job. There was no reason it shouldn’t be Gladstone’s job.

(You know it’s the right choice.)

But it wasn’t Gladstone’s job.

The click of the locker door echoed loud enough that he flinched before drawing in a deep breath and pulling it all the way open. She hadn’t lied about her uniforms. Every shirt hung crisp and straight on its hanger, in sharp contrast to the chaotic pile of belongings tossed heedlessly on the ground below it. The pile was so impressive he was actually afraid to take anything out, for fear it would cause an outright avalanche. In spite of himself he shook his head and smiled a little.

“Somehow this is exactly what I expected from you,” he said under his breath. He heard a creak behind him and whipped his head around, heart rate thudding as though he expected to find her peering over his shoulder, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. A flush crept up the back of his neck.

Of course there was nothing. Ashley was dead.

His gripped the locker door until his knuckles whitened, leaned his forehead briefly against it. The metal felt cool and hard against his skin. He swallowed once. Twice.  

Eventually he straightened with a sigh, tugging at his uniform and rolling his shoulder, as though he could somehow shake Ashley off like working out a crick in his neck.  By the time his fingers brushed the cloth of her fatigues their subtle quiver had been swallowed up by the hard-earned discipline he’d practiced so diligently ever since Jump Zero.

(Kaidan Alenko. Always looking for the sure thing. Everything needs to be perfectly defined and spelled out for you, doesn’t it? Sometimes the unknown can be a little exciting, too.)

A static spark stung his finger as he emptied the hangers. He jerked his hand back, muttering, used to the burn, never the timing. Slowly he reached back in, painstakingly folding each shirt with precision he hadn’t employed since Basic.

(You find a wrinkle in my uniform and I’ll clean your pistol for a month.)

He made each crease razor sharp. Not a wrinkle to be found.

Once the clothing had been stored, he began taking apart the pile she had accumulated in her locker. Datapads with poetry. She liked Cummings and Yeats, Plath and Elizabeth Bishop. He remembered Joker saying something about Heinlein. Kaidan hadn’t intended to look through them, but shortly he found himself cross-legged on the floor, skimming through lines and verses. It was easy to tell her favorites – she’d annotated them heavily. Underlined phrases, personal reflections. In some cases she’d made notes that he didn’t understand, such as the one beside a line from a poem by Elizabeth Browning that simply read, Josh, and in parenthesis (the little shit).

She also had a copy of the Bible, which gave him pause. It wasn’t a datapad either but an actual book, pages dog-eared, corners bent and turned down, small makeshift bookmarks such as scraps of paper, paper clips, even a hair tie, sticking out at all angles. Like the datapads it was covered in notes, but all of these handwritten, in scripts of multiple hands. Some tiny and neat, others broad and flowing. Though he didn’t think he’d ever seen a sample of Ashley’s handwriting he immediately found one he thought had to be hers – small but hurried, with the occasional loopy flourish. It tended to start out neat, but quickly deteriorated when her hand couldn’t keep up with her thoughts, until it was nearly illegible.

The inside cover contained four handwritten paragraphs, each in a different script that he recognized from the subsequent pages. Each a note from parent to child, passing the heirloom on with messages of faith and love. Four generations of Williams, right there on one page.

Kaidan ran his fingers across the script, tracing the shallow grooves the pen made against the paper. General David Williams, of Shanxi infamy, bequeathing it to his son Matthew Williams, with a note.

Our faith is our legacy. We keep to it and carry on, no matter the cost. And when that task is difficult, remember those who’ve walked a harder road with lesser reward. We are blessed. I am blessed. Because I have you.

Serviceman Williams then wrote to his daughter, There’s a great wide universe out there waiting for you. I hope you explore it to the fullest. If you ever get lost, look here and see if you can’t find your way. Remember, kiddo. Ad aspera per astra.

Kaidan’s hands loosened, allowing the book’s spine to droop. A few pages whispered past his thumb. The hair tie bookmark fell out, ghosting to the floor without fanfare.

He snatched it up with a hot flash of guilt and held it aloft. What page did it come from? What place had he lost? How important had it been?

He didn’t know.

There was so much he didn’t know. So much he’d never learn.

He stared at the hair tie. Nothing more than a simple strip of dark blue elastic, still twined with a few strands of long, dark brown hair. She probably had a few dozen just like it. She’d worn two in her hair, at all times. One to pull it back into a ponytail, one to wrap around the thick twist of her bun and secure it in place. Usually she kept a third around her wrist, just for emergencies.

But they were never enough to hold back those few stubborn, errant strands that inevitably pulled free to waft about her face.

Moisture burned the corner of his eyes. His fingers curled around the small token, and he put his newly formed fist to his mouth to stifle the sound brewing in his throat. One choked sob got through before he swallowed the rest back, chest aching from the effort. He wicked a thumb across his eyes, hastily tucked the hair tie back between the pages and set the book aside.

This wasn’t his. The grief and memories trapped within the Bible’s covers were for her family, not for him.

But it shouldn’t be for anyone. It should be his things exposed to the harsh light of the cargo bay, meticulously sorted and stored, itemized on a manifest and marked for shipping back to Vancouver, care of Marc and Lora Alenko.

His throat tightened, hitching breath loud against the silent backdrop of the cargo bay. Not even the sound of the engines to provide some white noise.

Nothing like this would be found among his own belongings. He spoke to his folks a couple of times a year. Hadn’t been back to Vancouver in almost three. When he did it tended to be strained small talk and careful avoidance of anything to do with the mutated eezo nodes lurking under his skin. He’d actually thought running off to the Alliance might help. Follow in his father’s footstep. Give them something in common. That, of course, and he’d had nowhere else to go.

Would his own family have mourned him the way Ashley Williams’ would mourn her?

Would she?

Stop.

He raked a hand through his hair, fingers eventually coming to rest against his forehead. His head felt heavy. Too heavy to hold up, like a lead weight.

(They’re more important. We’re as good as dead up here anyway.)

He wondered who would inherit the Bible now that Ashley was gone. One of her sisters, maybe. Sisters who probably had yet to learn about what had happened down on Virmire.

(Kaidan, what the hell are you doing?)

(This bomb is going off! No matter what.)

No matter what. 0.00. He’d been ready for it. Ready for anything. Except Shepard’s hand, grabbing him by the arm.

Further down in the pile he found smaller items. Toiletries. A stuffed hanar, of all things. A bottle of liquor she must have picked up on Noveria.

(Just for the record, I’d look damn good in a dress.)

He swallowed against a lump in his throat, chest constricting. He could see her so clearly, standing at the railing in Port Hanshan, alternating between slouching and gripping the rail with her hands and leaning back on her heels.

(I’m not most people.)

No. She hadn’t been.

He found some packing material for the liquor. It was scotch, an asari brand, maybe purchased to share with Liara. Why it hadn’t been drunk he couldn’t say. Maybe she just ran out of time.  

Next was a holo album containing a few photos. People he didn’t recognize. A woman that looked too much like her not to be her mother. A young girl with a grin he recognized from those brief moments in the comm room. Before…

Stop!

Kaidan put the holo aside, then rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. Took a deep breath in. Let it out slow. Clamped his eyes shut. For a moment, everything shook. His hands. The air in his lungs. His skin felt hot, but prickled with gooseflesh.  

Breathe in. Breathe out.  

Eventually he opened his eyes. Went back to the pile. Finish it, marine. Don’t leave her hanging.

In all her possessions were scant, just what she’d been able to obtain or accumulate since they’d picked her up on Eden Prime. In fact, how the Bible and holo album had even managed to catch up with her struck him as a bit of a mystery.

But when he got to the bottom of the pile his hand froze, mouth dry as a shock of white hot cold strummed the length of his spine, numbness dulling his fingers until they felt thick and clumsy.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. After all, she’d died in her combat gear. Not her fatigues. Of course they would be here.

This time no amount of discipline could overcome his shaking hands as he picked one up and turned it over in his palms.

A neon green boot with matching laces, so bright they nearly glowed in the dim light of the cargo bay.

His gut clenched, chest so tight he couldn’t breathe, the edges of his vision blurring until something hot and wet spilled over onto his cheeks.

(Come on.)

(Whoa, where are we going? Anderson said to wait here.)

(Come on, LT. Think we’ll ever get to poke around here again? Live a little.)

Only he hadn’t. She’d been right there. Right there. And he hadn’t.  

(Tell me you haven’t thought about this.)

(Thinking’s not the same as doing. Maybe, once all this is behind us…)

He dropped the boot, back slamming against the lockers as he buried his head in his hands, the grief that he’d stored down deep in his chest ever since that timer reached zero breaching the damn in a flood of hot tears. He wept himself hollow, hot, swollen and aching, exhaustion creeping in until he felt it laying heavily over his skin, behind his eyes, in the pit of his stomach. Then he just sat silent, eyes red and heavy, arms resting on his knees.

A hulking shape appeared above him. Had he not felt so drained he might have cared more about discovering he hadn’t been alone after all. But when Wrex’s red, horny crest came into view he met the krogan’s fierce stare without shame. Whatever the krogan had to say, he was beyond giving a damn.

“She was a warrior worth mourning,” Wrex said.

Kaidan straightened his posture with mild surprise, but said nothing.

“Shepard chose his companions well. Even those I at first didn’t give him credit for.” He offered a scaly hand, which Kaidan accepted warily. Wrex hauled him effortlessly to his feet, and gave him a brusque nod.

“You are krantt.”

Kaidan wasn’t sure how to respond, but Wrex saved him the trouble by ambling away without further comment. The krogan had been nearly invisible since their return from Virmire. After finding him here Kaidan wasn’t even sure if he’d even left the ship.

He hadn’t considered the possibility that a krogan might mourn a human soldier. But Ashley…had that effect on people.

With a wipe of his eyes Kaidan began piling Ashley’s things into a crate. Once the locker was empty he sealed it, then closed the crate up as well and entered it into the ship’s inventory for the requisitions offer to offload and send to her family. By the time he finished, his grief had been replaced by grim, dogged resolve.

We’re coming for you, Saren. May God help you, you bastard.  

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot: The Stealth Suit

Summary: Katie has a Stealth Suit Kink, but who doesn’t??

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT NSFW and NO UNDER 18s!!

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark.

A/N: Let’s face it…there’s no plot here bar a load of smut so…yeah.. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“For the 500th time…I’m FINE, Steve!” Katie snapped at him. Steve took a deep breath, his hands falling to his hips as the jet fell silent. “I’m not the one with a bullet in my leg” “There’s nothing in my leg!” A voice said causing them to turn to the back of the jet where Natasha was sat, Clint wrapping her leg in a bandage. “Its just a graze…” “Nat, I’m so sorry…” Katie started and Nat shook her head, waving her hand. “Nova, I told you to take the shot.” She shrugged “It was a 50/50…ee had to take the chance. Besides, it hit him too so…” “2 people, 1 bullet…” Clint grinned, but Katie couldn’t find it in herself to smile. “I told Fury this was a bad idea…” she shook her head. “I shouldn’t have come.” Clint frowned “Hey, Nova look…I know you’re not technically an agent now but we’d have been out numbered and out gunned without you…it would have been a lot worse.” Katie didn’t say anything. Instead she simply nodded and headed over to retrieve a bottle of water before she sat down. How she had gotten roped into this she had no idea. Actually that was a lie. She knew exactly how it had happened. SHIELD had been tracking a big player who had been bragging amongst certain circles that he had something new, a game changer in the world of arms dealing- a piece of the whiplash technology that Ivan Vanko had developed and used to fight Tony back in 2010. As Tony was currently in London, Fury had asked Katie to look over the blueprints Natasha had retrieved whilst undercover. She had JARVIS confirm it was, indeed, a similar technology and that she also knew from history with Stark Industries that it would be possible to manufacture with the right equipment. That was enough for Fury to run a full scale op to exfil Natasha at the same time as shutting the target down and acquiring the designs to prevent this happening again in the future. Katie had been all set to wish them good luck when Clint had levelled her with a look and told her they were a sniper down as Evans had broken his arm in a training op. Katie had shrugged until Fury had looked at her, asking her to take a place on the field team for this particular mission, and as she had sighed Steve had turned to her and simply said that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to whilst crossing his arms over the front of his broad chest which was adorned with the silver star and stripes…and that was it. She had agreed.

Because she had a weakness for her soldier…and a fucking kink for that goddamned midnight blue and silver kevlar. The mission had gone to shit. They’d gotten what they needed, Katie covering the rendezvous point where they were meeting Natasha only to see her approaching being followed by a man with some form of machete looking weapon. Katie didn’t have a clear shot as Natasha started to duck and dive out of the hostile’s way but Natasha had instructed her to take it anyway. So she did and the bullet had hit it’s intended target…after first grazing Natasha’s thigh as she had thrown her legs up around the guys chest to flip him over. “Stop beating yourself yourself up about it Nova.” Rumlow piped up “Sometimes we take collateral and this time collateral was Widow.” Katie gave an angry noise and turned to Rumlow “I don’t like collateral on any fucking scale Brock…” Rumlow looked as if he was going to bite back but Steve shot him a look causing the man to fall silent. Katie shook her head and made her way back to the seat, pulling our her StarkPhone and burying herself in her actual job, replying to a few emails. Once the debrief was over and Katie had apologised, once again to Natasha, she headed off to the locker room. “You should go talk to her.” Nat looked at Steve as he stood up from where he had been undoing the buckles on his boots. “She’s pissed…” “She’s upset.” Steve corrected. “Get to Medical, that’s an order.” “I’ll see to it she does Cap.” Clint assures him. Steve gave a nod, swinging his shield up onto his back before he headed off after Katie, taking the elevator down to the floor which held the equipment stores and the changing rooms. He knocked on the female one, poking his head in as he knew she would be the only one in there given the hour and the fact Nat was the only other female on the mission. “Honey?” He asked softly as he stepped inside. She emerged from the locker area, dressed in the tight compression tank-top and shorts she wore under the catsuit. “You ok?” “No.” She admitted to him. “Not really…” He sighed and crossed towards her, pulling her into a hug. She pressed her check to his chest as he dropped a kiss to her head. “It wasn’t your fault.” He said and she shrugged in his arms. He pulled back slightly and tilted her chin up with his glove clad hand and she allowed him to capture her lips in a soft kiss. Katie pulled back, and Steve watched as she cocked her head to one side, biting her lip.

He knew that look very well. “You’re a nightmare…” he chuckled, arching an eyebrow and she shrugged, running her hands up his chest, fingers tracing the silver star. He caught her wrists in his hands and she glanced up at him, swallowing at the darkness that was now in his eyes as they flashed with desire. Without a word he reached down, hands hooking on her thighs as he hoisted her up, his lips crashing to hers, her legs wrapped around his waist, underneath the edge of his shield on his back. Shucking off his boots, he strode out of the main area of the room through to the wet room at the back where he gently set her down on the edge of the counter which held the sinks along the edge of the room. He shifted his hands to her back, holding her strongly to him, lips moving from her mouth to her jaw line and then her neck where he nipped gently. Katie gave a groan and her hands dropped to his utility belt, hastily unclipping it before she next went to the button and zips on his uniform pants. “Want something baby girl?” He teased “You know what I want…” she said as he grinned and decided to help her out. He reached for the waist band of his combats, intending on pushing them down over his hips but she stopped him. “Leave it on” “What?” He asked, his voice was gravely from his arousal and he wasn’t quite sure be had heard her right. “You know I love this suit…” she said, reaching into his flies and grabbing his length on her hand, drawing a load grunt from his mouth as she freed him through the space now his trousers were undone at the front. “Leave it on…” “Yes ma'am.” He mumbled, one hand tangling in her hair, the other on the base of her spine as he pulled her close for another deep kiss. He gripped the bottom of her compression tank top and she moved her arms so he could pull it over the top, freeing her breasts and she gave a soft sigh as his head dropped to her chest. His tongue gently traced her nipple, teasing it to a peak as his other hand rubbed at her core through her lycra shorts which were fast becoming soaked. She groaned, her head falling back as Steve grinned to himself, the sight of her simply surrendering herself completely to him in such a raw, trusting and unabashed way was something he would never tire of. His lips traced upwards and he felt her gently pushing on his chest through his uniform. Stepping back slightly, he watched as she jumped down and pushed him round so he had his back to the counter before she dropped to her knees, hands sliding up to the back of his thighs. “Fuck…” he half groaned, half cursed as Katie licked the underside of his shaft making her way from the base up to the tip. She looked up at him, his still gloved hand fell to the back of her head, gently tangling in her hair, the other one grasping at the marble counter top behind him. Maintaining eye contact, Katie wrapped her lips around him and slowly moved her mouth up and down her fingers tightening on the backs of his thighs as he did so. He allowed her to control the pace, his hand simply resting in her hair as her head moved back and forth. His eyes never left hers, the mischievous twinkle still present and as she took him to the back of her throat he let out a loud hiss as his cock twitched. His fingers tightened around the marble top and it was then that they both heard a loud cracking noise. Katie stilled, releasing him from her mouth with a small pop and looked up as Steve glanced at the place his hand rest, the side now displaying finger shaped marks in the marble. “Something got you worked up Soldier?” Katie teased and with that Steve gently tugged her hair. “Get up here…” he instructed softly and she did as she was told, rising to her feet. Grabbing her hips he spun her around and pushed her roughly against the sink basin. His hands tore the fabric of her shorts easily and he tossed the shreds of lycra to the side before he pressed his body into hers, one hand settling on her hip, the other ever so tenderly wrapped around the front of her throat. Steve leaned forward, lips by her ear as he used the hand on her neck to hold her head in place so she was looking directly in the mirror. His eyes locked onto hers as he whispered his simple instruction. “Watch” He saw a flicker in her ears, excitement, as he used his foot to knock her legs apart, bending her forwards slightly before he buried himself in her in one slow, deliberate move, eyes not once leaving hers in the mirror. He saw her face screw up in pleasure as she gave a moan at being taken this way and the hand on her throat gave a gentle squeeze. “Eyes on me doll…” he instructed. Her eyes opened again and locked back onto his as he moved his hips, rocking into her, as deep as he could get. Her back arched, her mouth freely allowing her soft cries and whispers to escape while he thrust deeply into her, again and again. The feeling was exquisite to Katie. He always felt good but now, accompanied by the feel and scratch of that suit against her skin, the noises it was making as it rustled with each movement, the clinging of buckles and belts and then the fact he was being so dominant, ensuring she did as she was told and watched him…fuck, she was all kinds of turned on here. The hand that had been on her hip crept round the front if he belly and Steve reached down, teasing her clit, causing her to shudder and a loud wail of pleasure fell from her lips. Steve chuckled slightly, eyes on hers in the mirror. “Shhhh” he said softly, before he smirked “Like that, huh?” “Fuck, yes…” she groaned, as the hand on her neck moved to the side of her face and Steve turned her head so he could kiss her, his hips moving faster now as he could feel himself starting to unravel. “You close baby?” His voice was a whisper and she answered him with a soft moan as his fingers continued to work in time with his trust, his mouth moving to her jaw line, nipping softly before his hand, once again on her neck, forced her face round to look at him in the glass again. “Cap…Captain…I’m gonna…” “Let go…c'mon…thass my girl…” his Brooklyn accent rolled off his tongue as he continued his deliberate thrusts into her, hand holding her neck in place so her face was focused on his in the mirror. He watched carefully, as her eyes fluttered shut for a moment and she reached up, grabbing at his arm, as he felt her tightening around him, her legs shaking as she gave a loud, drawn out moan, her entire body convulsing. When Katie opened her eyes she saw Steve’s own flutter shut, his mouth dropping open as his head fell forward, pressing into her neck, biting down softly as he groaned, hips faltering with his release. She watched him, those long eyelashes resting against his now flushed cheeks and when they cracked open to reveal those deep blue eyes she had fallen in love with from the very start, she gave him a soft smile which he returned, tipping her head to kiss him. “You ok?” He asked, his hands sliding over her belly, noticing the marks where she had banged into the unit, frowning slightly. “Did I…” “Stop it…” she instructed him, looking at him. “I’m fine…more than fine…that was amazing.” He chuckled, a swell of smugness in his chest warmed him through as he kissed the side of her neck. “Guess you really do like this suit, huh?” He asked as she turned to look at him, her hands tracing the lines of the star. “Prefer the guy that’s in it but…yeah, not gonna lie. It does things to me…your ass looks great.” She said, looking round him as he laughed. “Its all yours baby” he quipped and she grinned, leaning up to kiss him. “I need a shower.” She mumbled “you joining me?” “Can I take the suit off for that?” He asked. She nodded as her lips ghosted over his “Like I said, the suit’s a kink…what I really love is the man in it.” 30 seconds later said suit was not so stealthily littered around the female changing rooms as Steve backed his girl into the large, rainfall shower cubicle, shutting the glass door behind him with his foot.

[soulmate-game]

Part1 ... Part2 ... Part3...

Marinette blinked, tilting her head a bit. The streets around them were loud and bustling with bodies and vehicles despite the sun being right at the horizon. Gotham would slow down soon, people being wary of the darkness in the crime-ridden city,but for now it was busy as usual. Marinette and Jon stood outside the stadium that would be hosting the World Fencing Finals, but a familiar face had stopped them right before they entered.

“I didn’t know you liked fencing,” Marinette mused out loud, making Damian tsk and look away. The boy got along with Marinette alright, but that didn’t immediately cancel out his natural standoffish nature.

“Of course you didn’t, I never told you,” he retorted smoothly, the youngest Wayne moving forward to reluctantly open the door for his two friends.

“You hardly talk about yourself at all, actually,” Marinette continued, humming to herself. “Are you keeping secrets?”

Damian scoffed again, even as Jon snickered behind them. “Everyone has secrets. Even a naive child like you should know that.”

Jon couldn’t quite wipe the smile off his face. He had long since gotten used to the strange way the two communicated over the past month since they first met. Marinette always seemed to know when one of Damian’s jabs were or weren’t meant as serious insults, just as Damian was somehow able to always pick up the exact second that Marinette’s caring nature switched from being rooted in kindness to coming from a place of fear.

Yet Jon was the only one of the trio of friends who could hear their heartbeats change pace when they spotted one another, or when their hands accidentally brushed. Neither Damian nor Marinette seemed to realize their own feelings yet, but Jon would be there when they did.

He just hoped their relationship didn’t develop too quickly. Both his best friend and his new sister were dangerously fragile, just in different ways. He didn’t want them accidentally breaking each other.

“Come to think of it,” Jon heard Damian say, pulling the young kryptonian from his thoughts. “You do not talk about yourself quite as much as it seems like you do. You’ve certainly never mentioned liking swordplay.”

“Ah,” Marinette gave Damian a lopsided smile, rubbing the back of her neck. “I like watching it sometimes, but I’m mainly here to see my friend. She’s one of the competitors today, she and I managed to convince her mom to let her sleepover at our place for two nights.”

“But only if she wins,” Jon added sourly. He and his dad had both heard that condition of the deal that Kagami’s mother had made loud and clear. “I’m sorry Mari, but your friend’s mom sounds way too strict and demanding. If she wins this competition, she can spend two days hanging out with you, but if she even gets as low as second place they have to go back to Japan for remedial training immediately?” Jon shook his head. It wasn’t right.

Damian raised both eyebrows at that, but seemed more intrigued than surprised. “I’ve seen stricter,” he commented casually, only succeeding in making Jon glare at him for the veiled reference to his own dark childhood. “But you are right, Kent. That is concerning treatment. Who is this friend of yours, Marinette? Perhaps I have heard of them if they are good enough to qualify for the World Finals.”

By then, the trio had already handed in their tickets and reached the stands. Jon and Marinette glared at Damian when they realized all of their seats were in the front row, right next to each other even, knowing without a doubt that the rich boy was somehow behind it. The two Kents had had much worse seats when they had first purchased their tickets online.

Marinette waited until they all sat down before answering. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you know her. Her name’s Kagami Tsurugi—“

“World class fencer from a long family line of Japanese fencers,” Damian interrupted, nodding knowingly as one of his hands raised to gently grip his chin. “Before Fencing was introduced to Japan, they were famous for their practice of kendo and katana technique. Especially considering their typically untraditional way of insisting that the females in their family take up combat. That, of course, traces all the way back to the ancient female samurai, or Onna-Bugeisha, Tomoe Gozen, one of the ancestors of the Tsurugi family before they split from the Gozen family.”

Marinette and Jon just blinked at the young heir, before Jon’s mouth slowly started to curve up in a mischievous smile. Damian’s eyes narrowed in warning.

“Kent—“

“You’re a fan,” Jon ignored the warning, gleefully grinning ear to ear. “You did your research on her and her family, that’s some hardcore biggest-fan behavior right there. Do you want us to see if she can give you an autographkfgdjgdgj—“ Jon was cut off as Damian lunged over Marinette, the only person separating the two boys, and muffled Jon’s mouth with one hand as his other tried to slam Jon’s head on the chair’s arm. Of course super strength was no joke, and Jon’s head didn’t move even an inch as he laughed through Damian’s hands.

Marinette was somehow able to separate them, and Damian sat back in his chair with a huff and straightened his button-down shirt imperiously.

“I am not a ‘fan’,” he denied primly, but not even Marinette missed the slight pink to his cheeks even through his denial. “I simply acknowledge her skill. As a practitioner of swordplay myself, it is only me being proactive to research her family history. If she is so inclined, I intend to invite her to the manor sometime before she leaves for a casual spar.”

“Oh, she’ll love that,” Marinette agreed, nodding even as the first duel started. “Kagami is always looking for new sparring partners who can keep up with her, but so far only our other friend Adrien and her mom are capable enough. But…” her voice had dropped to a whisper out of respect for the current combatants, but both boys noticed her pause and the way she worried her lip.

“What?” Jon whispered back, worried. Marinette’s nose wrinkled.

“But I don’t know if it’s a good idea to introduce Kagami to Damian. They might end up taking over the world.”

Jon slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a snort. Damian just smirked.

“Now you must introduce us. Perhaps I can finally meet someone who can conspire with me to get rid of my brothers.”

With that, the three quieted and actually watched the fights. Jon didn’t really understand the rules or what was happening, but he liked watching the footwork and the different styles that each competitor used when they dueled. Then, about the third or fourth match, a fencer in a bright red uniform walked out.

“That’s her!” Marinette squealed, leaning forward in her seat. She and Damian had occasionally whispered to one another about what they thought were good or bad calls on points, and critiquing different competitor’s techniques. It was a bit of an eye opener to Jon, who realized that he didn’t know much about what Marinette’s life was like back in Paris despite living with the girl for almost five months. In fact, he didn’t know much about her beyond what she actively showed at home.

Maybe Damian had a point earlier. Marinette had a weird way of making it feel like she spoke about herself a lot but in reality didn’t share much about herself at all. Most of what Jon knew about her came from experience. He knew her tells for whenever she started getting nervous, excited, worried, or was close to an attack. He knew how to tell when she was feeling overwhelmed or started retreating into herself because she didn’t want to intrude. But this?

Jon watched as Marinette stood up and cheered for Kagami when the red-clad fencer scored swift points.

He didn’t know the things that she liked to do besides designing. She mentioned listening to Jagged Stone, maybe that was her favorite kind of music.

Whatever. Jon wouldn’t let himself dwell on how Marinette didn’t open up as much as he would like—it was his job as the older brother for once to put some effort in too. Besides, with everything else Marinette had been through over the months it made sense for her to be a little closed off.

Jon moved his eyes back to the floor. Kagami lunged forward right then, ruthless as she slashed and didn’t allow her opponent a moment to do anything but scramble to deflect. But the red-uniformed woman was too fast, almost violent in her strikes, and she landed three hits on her opponent within one second.

Yeah. Now that he knew what was going on, he knew how to gently, slowly, learn more about his sister. Sorry Kon, but Jon had his eyes on the Best Brother prize.

Kagami won, without her opponent winning a single point against her.

“You know, Kagami’s fighting reminds me of someone,” Jon spoke up, ignoring the venomous glare Damian sent him. His sister looked over curiously as the fighters swapped out and Kagami was led to the back, where a locker room of sorts was set up for the competitors.

“Really? Who? I’ve only ever seen Kagami fight like that. Maybe her mom, but that’s different.”

Jon smiled, knowing he’d get some shit for this stunt later when he went on patrol with Damien but decidedly not caring.

“Robin. The newest one anyway, you can find videos online from different sightings of him around Gotham. He uses a sword.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, obviously knowing that he partnered with Robin a lot as Superboy but not knowing that Damien was also intimately aware of that fact.

“Huh, that’s weird. Ryuuko, one of the Paris heroes, also uses a sword. But it’s a Miraculous weapon, so it’s a bit different than a normal sword.”

Jon winced. That backfired, he and his dad weren’t quite ready for the rest of the JL to know about the Paris situation. So much for the plan to bring it up later, when Marinette was better settled into life in America.

“Paris has heroes?” Damian asked, eyes sharp. All it took was one glance from the green-eyed boy for Jon to know that this would definitely be brought up to Batman. Great.

At least the next match started, distracting both of the fencing fans from continuing the conversation. For the moment.

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette was the loudest voice in the stadium, standing on her chair without shame as she cheered for her friend, Kagami’s lips twitching in the slightest hint of a smile before she bowed her head to accept her medal.

Marinette was not surprised at all to see her friend win first place in the whole competition. Damian was pleased, and suitably impressed. Jon was just happy that this meant Kagami’s mother couldn’t keep Marinette from spending time with her friend.

Hopping down from the chair, Marinette turned to her friend and brother with a large smile. “Come on! Kagami and her mom are going to meet us in front of the building once everything is done, but I don’t want to fight the crowds.”

Jon cringed, nodding and standing up immediately. Marinette didn’t do well in crowds nowadays, though it could certainly be worse. Inside buildings like the school wasn’t so bad, it was mainly outdoors. Jon and his parents never missed how Marinette would constantly hold Lois’s hand or stick religiously to the woman’s side whenever they walked outside around tall buildings or through thick crowds. None of them mentioned it.

Damien picked up on it, having observed Marinette’s behavior firsthand during the only time he had went outside with her somewhere other than school. They had merely gone to buy Damian a new tie that Marinette approved of, but the girl had scarcely gone further than a foot away from him the whole time they were outside in the city. Only the stern glances from Jon had kept him from commenting on it.

Moments later, the two had found themselves waiting outside the stadium at almost ten at night, though none of them seemed particularly uncomfortable. Marinette seemed downright at home, besides her occasional glances up at the building next to them and her refusal to leave Damian’s side. They waited a good half hour in the slight chill of the night air before Kagami Tsurugi, completely changed out of her uniform, walked up beside her mother Tomoe Tsurugi.

The older woman was, to Jon’s slight shock (Damian’s research was VERY thorough), blind. She tilted her head when she and her daughter stopped in front of the trio.

“Miss Marinette?” She asked in flawless English. “How have you been?”

Marinette smiled, the expression oddly soft compared to her usual beaming grin. “As well as I can be, Madame Tsurugi. With me are my adoptive brother, Jon Kent, and one of my new friends, Damian Wayne. If it is alright with you, we would like to go to Damian’s house for the night. My guardians and his father already approved.”

Jon and Damian blinked, never having heard Marinette speak so properly before. It truly said a lot about the kind of woman Tomoe Tsurugi was. The woman gave an icy smile, pleased but distant. She raised one delicate eyebrow.

“I am getting old, but not dumb Miss Dupain-Cheng. I know very well who the Waynes are, and referring to his home as a mere house is a gross understatement that you couldn’t hope to fool me with in a hundred years,” the woman remarked with subtle humor. Marinette chuckled.

“It was worth a shot,” she defended herself with a shrug. Tomoe shook her head in amusement before settling both hands on her cane and straightening her posture.

“If you vouch for your… friend…” Tomoe said with deliberate slowness. Marinette was quick to nod.

“I do. Damian is trustworthy, and I won’t leave Kagami alone, Madame Tsurugi.”

Tomoe’s mouth flattened, and she was silent for a moment. “You know that you are one of the few people I trust with my daughter, Marinette. I will trust your judgement this time as well. However, Kagami must still call me in the morning and when she does reach your new home as well. And you remember her vacation training schedule?”

Both boys looked at each other, wondering why Kagami did not even try to speak up even though they had their own suspicions. The Japanese teen found that to be the moment she was done being silent however, and sighed.

“Mother,” Kagami spoke, back straight and tone level and proper. “I am perfectly capable of sticking to my training on my own. I do not need Mari-hime to remind me.”

Tomoe pursed her lips, but nodded nonetheless. “Alright. Mister Wayne? I trust your father is alright with Kagami bringing her fencing equipment?”

Damian nodded, despite knowing that Tomoe would not see it. For some reason he got the feeling that she was fully aware of the gesture regardless of her lack of sight.

“Of course. I am actually a fencer as well, though not competitively. I was hopeful that Kagami would humor me with a spar, our manor has a rather nice gym that would provide a more than sufficient space for such an activity.”

At that, Tomoe seemed rather pleased. “That is, of course, up to Kagami since she has not seen Marinette in quite some time and likely has plans for her time already. But I encourage any opportunity that my daughter finds to hone her skills.”

“The competitors today were skilled, but lack knowledge of real battle,” Kagami added, locking gazes with Damian. “My mother trains me as if I were actually fighting, so I seldom find fencers able to match my reactions. If you believe yourself capable, I would be honored to cross swords with you.”

“Oh no,” Marinette stage-whispered to Jon even as her eyes stayed on Damian and Kagami. “This is where the world domination starts.”

Even Tomoe couldn’t resist a small grin at that, and it wasn’t much longer before the trio were picked up by Damian’s butler, who introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth. Inside the limousine, Kagami visibly relaxed. Her back was still straight, though not overly so, and her face was no longer stringently stoic. Once they pulled away from the stadium, she wasted no time pulling Marinette into a tight hug.

“I am sorry I could not be there for you, Mari-hime.”

Marinette laughed, returning the hug enthusiastically. “Don’t be silly! You were at the funeral, and you video chat with me at least twice a week. That’s plenty.”

Kagami shook her head, tightening her hold. “My mother would have been more than happy to take you in. Sometimes I believe she likes you more than me,” Kagami finally pulled away, turning to level a hard stare at Jon. “But that obviously did not happen, so you and your parents better take good care of Mari-hime, or nobody will find your bodies.”

“Kagami!” Marinette immediately reprimanded, aghast. “The Kents are wonderful! And what did I say about the death threats?”

Kagami rolled her eyes. “My cousin’s family still makes traditional katanas. I have plenty of available arms to carry out my promises.”

“Kagamiiiiiii.”

“If they treat you well, then they have nothing to worry about.”

Marinette groaned in despair, dramatically flopping over until she was draped over the side of Kagami like a limp towel. “I’m gonna get you a spray bottle, and every time you threaten somebody with violence I’m going to spritz you.”

Kagami’s eyes narrowed in playful challenge. “You will have to catch me first.”

Damian was smirking, enjoying this interaction a bit too much. “I believe the two of us will get along just fine, Tsurugi. Do you have a favorite katana craftsman, by any chance?”

—*—*—*—*—*

“They’re so tiny!” The man did not seem to realize the danger he was in with that statement. He was apparently one of Damian’s older brothers, Jason Todd. Both Kagami and Marinette, the “tiny” people in question, glared daggers at the man. “Okay, you,” he said to Kagami, “You’re at least intimidating. Don’t unsheathe that sword please. Bruce already told us that you won the World Finals, and I would rather not die today.” He held his hands up in surrender. Kagami just smirked smugly, and crossed her arms.

Marinette narrowed her eyes. “And me?”

Jason blinked. “What about you? You’re tiny and adorable, even when you’re glaring at me!” He boldly came forward to rustle her hair. “Like a little pixie.”

Kagami covered her smile with a hand, eyes dancing with amusement. Bruce, who had been the first to welcome them all in and introduce himself to Kagami, was pinching his nose next to Alfred in the background. Damian’s other brothers were also gathered. Apparently they all had wanted to meet his new friend and Jon’s new sister.

“Be careful, I’m not the one you should be worried about. At least without my sword I am not as dangerous,” Kagami warned. Everyone blinked at her, and her expression quickly turned confused. Her eyes darted to Marinette, who was too busy glaring at Jason with puffed-out cheeks to notice. “Mari-hime… you didn’t tell anyone?”

Marinette finally looked over, shrugging. “I mentioned it to Jon, Clark, and Lois.”

“What are you talking about, Miss Tsurugi?” Bruce asked, curious after the warning from the fencer. Kagami looked up, and slowly a devious smile spread over her face. It was small, but sent shivers over Jason’s spine.

“Jason and Marinette should spar. Mari-hime is quite the combatant when she desires to be.”

Jason crossed his arms, raising his brow and looking Marinette up and down. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’m about double her size—“

“Hey Jon, why don’t you call Lois?” Marinette interrupted, turning to look at her brother with a small smirk. “We’ve got her a huge story— burly biker is too scared to spar a girl half his size.”

Cackles arose, the other two of Damian’s brothers leaning on each other as they guffawed. Bruce and Alfred even stifled chuckles of their own, and Damian’s smirk was infuriatingly prominent. Jon was much like the other two Wayne boys, nearly bowled over in laughter. Jason, after a brief moment of shock and offense, straightened up and grinned. He shrugged off his leather jacket with a small huff of laughter of his own.

“Alright, that was pretty good. You want a spar that badly, you got one. But you’re gonna have to really impress me if you want me to take back what I said about you being adorable and nonthreatening.”

“I’m putting fifty dollars on Marinette,” Kagami bet loudly, raising her hand. “Who wants to bet against me?”

Jason and Marinette both shook their heads in amusement, the big man leading Marinette to the family fitness room (the public one anyway, outside of the Batcave) as everyone besides Bruce and Alfred energetically placed their bets on who would win the spar.

Dick and Tim were betting on Jason, for obvious reasons. Damian withheld from betting, but it was clear he was hoping Marinette would somehow win. Jon just stayed quiet, refusing to share any opinion on the matter. But once Jason and Marinette started heading to the sparring mat that was already laid out, he stopped her.

“You sure about this?” He asked, pulling her away so that nobody else could eavesdrop. “I know I laughed and everything, but you don’t have to spar. Jason won’t hold back if you tell him not to, but he’s not a pushover in any respect.”

Marinette frowned. She had gotten a little caught up in the moment, but at the same time… she wanted this. “You guys are great,” she replied to her brother, voice equally soft. “But you and Clark don’t focus on combat technique. I haven’t had a real fight, at least not one where I don’t have powers to fall back on, in a long time. I need this.”

Jon sighed, but nodded. He squeezed her shoulder for a moment, before smiling at the shorter girl. “Then show everyone what you can do. And I suggest telling Jason not to hold back, or you won’t be able to show off as much as you want.”

Marinette bounced on her heels happily, leaning up to kiss Jon on the cheek. “I’m winning Kagami some money today!” She yelled with a fist-bump before jogging over to join a very amused Jason.

“Was your bro giving you some tips?” He asked, stretching out his arms as Marinette giggled.

“Kind of! Jon suggested that I ask you to not hold back!”

Jason froze, gaze sliding over to the young kryptonian, who only smiled back enigmatically. He might not have spent much time around the youngest Super, but he hung out with Kon often enough and he knew that Jon was fully aware of what he was capable of as Red Hood. He wouldn’t suggest that Jason not hold back unless he was actually confident in Marinette’s skill.

The rest of his family seemed to pick up on that as well, also frozen in shock. Jason was one of the most ruthless fighters of all of them, fearless and brutal.

“Kent better know what he’s doing,” Damian hissed under his breath, to which his father and brothers could only nod to silently.

“So the pixie wants me to not hold back? Alright,” Jason agreed to after a moment of stunned silence. Immediately most of his jovial manner drained away, replaced with focus as he spread his legs and sunk into a stance that came naturally to him at that point. If Jon and Marinette both wanted him to treat her like a real threat (without forgetting that this was just a spar, anyway) then he would. Maybe the girl had super strength or invulnerability like the other Supers. That would explain why Clark was so quick to take her in.

“Oh I hope we don’t regret this later,” Bruce groaned before stepping into the center mat and raising one hand. “Alright. Winner is whoever can pin or otherwise subdue the other first. Please, don’t break any bones or skin. I do not need an angry Lois Lane on my doorstep tomorrow morning. You can use the whole room as long as you don’t risk hitting or involving any of us innocent bystanders. Ready?” Bruce backed up off the mat. “Start!” He wasted no time backing away to a wall.

There was no moment of stillness. There was no waiting with baited breath or looking for an opening. As soon as Bruce called Start, Jason attacked.

He jumped over the distance separating him and Marinette, bringing his knee up to try and end this in one strike like he would have in the field.

Only Marinette wasn’t there to take the hit. Just as quickly as Jason had lunged, she had jumped. Instead of Jason kicking her in the stomach, the small Asian girl had leapt up, and landed on the upraised knee balanced on only one nimble foot.

Suddenly, they were face to face. They grinned at each other, and then they were nothing but movement again.

—*—*—*—*—*

@fantasiame @thestressmademedoit @amayakans @resignedcatservant @too0bsessedformyowngood @chocolatecatstheron @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @bigpicklebananatree @thezestywalru @bugaboosandbees @ironspiderstark @mikantsume @marinettepotterandplagg @more-or-less-human-i-guess @myazael @ladybug-182 @buticaaba @dast218 @maribat-is-lifeblood @elspethshadow @fandomsaremylifeline @moonlightstar64 @whats-she-gonna-post-next @toodaloo-kangaroo @maybemanymuffins @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @legendaryneckjudgestudent @goblinwhoships @yin-390

Part 5

This got long, so the majority of the spar will be in the next part so that I don’t get cut off. :D OMG, StOrY DeVelOPmeNT?! Who am I?!

More good stuff next chap.

[jesuschristtakethewheel]

Wanna Bet?

Summary: “I bet you can’t go 24 hours without cussing.”

Warnings: Lots of explicit language. Very creative explicit language. Basically crack humor.

Word Count: 2178 (Officially the longest thing I have ever written)

This is for @navybrat817​ and @stargazingfangirl18​ ‘s writing challenge (i finished with 3 hours to spare lol) and the prompt that I used is bolded below. Although it isn’t smut, I really hope you enjoy!

It started as a bet, as most things do. You couldn’t believe the whole world thought Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America, was the epitome of chivalry and good manners. You guess people idolized the 40s as having chivalric gentlemen, who could do no wrong. If you went on national television and told everyone the all-American, patriotic Captain America said twelve variations of the word “fuck” in the last minute, not a single soul would believe you. It was honestly ridiculous and a bit naive of the public to think a man from Brooklyn in the 1930s, who served in the US Army, who had been standing up to bullies ever since he could walk, wouldn’t ever curse. 

When you were preparing to meet Captain America for the first time, you understood that he would be different from what the media portrayed him to be. But you really didn’t expect that you would meet Captain America while he was cursing out a bag of broccoli. The fact that Captain America cursed wasn’t surprising to you, but the fact that Captain America cursed like a sailor -- very, very creatively and for the dumbest of reasons -- was, frankly, both hilarious and offsetting. You didn’t think you would ever be able to get the thought of Steve describing broccoli as “fuckin’ green dickweasels who’re making a mockery of actual trees” out of your head. 

It was an hourly occurrence to hear new inventive curses from Steve, such as “wankhammer”, “fopdoodle”, “douchenozzle”, and “cockwaffle”. Your personal favorite was “fucktangular”, but “asstrumpet” was a close second.

_________

You knew two things: you were exhausted and the world was safe for now. Each step leeched the remaining scraps of energy from your body as you trudged, one step at a time, back to the Avengers Compound. The lingering slime from the aliens that attacked had made its way everywhere - inside your combat gear, in your hair, and even in between your toes. Every movement you made was accompanied by a cacophony of squelches, curses and groans, both from you and the other Avengers. Steve didn’t disappoint, commenting that “the arsebadger aliens could have been cleaner” while futilely attempting to wipe the slime off his shield, only managing to spread it even more.

Entering the elevator with the others, you leaned against the side rails and waited, transferring some alien remains to the elevator while doing so. Too tired to do anything, but too wired to sleep, you collapsed on the couches in the lounge and the others followed your lead. 

“Fuck.” Steve groaned. Everyone turned to look at him and found he was sprawled like a starfish on the floor. The supersoldier had fallen off the floor. If you had the energy to do so, you’d be laughing your head off.

“I thought you could do this all day, Mr. America?” Bucky smirked. He was the only one still standing, and wasn’t even looking at Steve. He was sharpening his knives in the corner of the room. Fucking supersoldiers with enhanced senses.   

“Leave me alone, dickweasel.” Steve muttered, rolling onto his side while flipping Bucky off.

“Hey Cap,” you called, voice slightly muffled by the couch cushions. “You curse so often that I bet you can’t go 24 hours without cussing.”

“Capsicle can’t go an hour without cursing, let alone a whole day,” Tony said, grinning. “He’d never take the bet.”

Steve huffed. Everyone knew about Steve’s competitive streak. He would never back down from a bet. “It’s on. Starting at 12 tomorrow, I’m not allowed to use any curse words for 24 hours. I’ll be tracked by F.R.I.D.A.Y all day so there aren’t any complaints. If I win, Y/N has to do both of our mission reports for a month.” 

You narrowed your eyes, knowing Steve was well aware of your tendency to procrastinate on or even forgo doing the mission reports entirely. “And when I win, you’ll allow us to get a team cat! And I get to name them.” You were met with groans from your teammates. 

“But you always pick the stupidest names,” Sam said, crossing his arms and glaring at you. “Remember your plants? Who names a succulent ‘Eggboi’?”

Before you could respond to Sam’s slander of your naming abilities, Steve cut in. “Deal.”

_________

It was 11:59 am and the Avengers were gathered in a circle, surrounding you and Steve as you shook hands. 

“I think I’ll name them ‘Le Ole Razzle Dazzle’. It has a certain ring to it, wouldn’t you agree?” You smirked. “Or Razzmatazz for short.” 

Steve frowned. “First of all, that’s a terrible name. Secondly, you’re severely underestimating my self-control -”

“This bullshit’s coming from someone who jumped out of a plane WITHOUT a parachute,” Bucky interrupted. “Self-control, my ass.”

While Natasha was kind enough to cover up her laughter with a cough, no one else gave Steve the same courtesy. With tears in his eyes from the laughter, Sam announced, “The bet starts in three. Two. One.” 

When it became clear that nothing interesting was going to be happening for the time being, everyone left to do their own thing, leaving you and Steve alone. You smiled at Steve as innocently as you could, fluttering your eyelashes to seem less suspicious. He just looked at you weirdly.

“You’re planning something.” It wasn’t even a question. You should have known Steve was too smart to fall for your puppy eyes. The fact you tried using the puppy eyes trick was quite ironic as you were planning on winning a kitten. 

“Mayhaps, my good friend. But you can’t stop me.” You laughed as you ran out of the room, leaving Steve shaking his head at your antics.

Time for Phase Two. 

_________

You held your breath - afraid that one wrong move would alert the enemy to your position. Slowly placing your hand on the metal grate in front of you, you peered through the bars of the vent to make sure the target was still in sight. Although crawling through the vents was a bit more Hawkeye’s style than yours, you needed to be as stealthy as possible.

Your mission was simple - subdue the target by any means necessary. 

Lifting the grate slowly, you managed to lift it enough to pass through. There was a small clang as you moved, and you held your breath to make sure no one was looking or had noticed you before sliding feet first out of the hole. You were free-falling for only a couple of seconds, with your legs together, making sure to point your feet. Your arms were above you, hair floating above you. You couldn’t help but revel in the glimpse of weightlessness which made it seem like you could fly.

You landed, exactly as you intended, on your target’s shoulders, twisting until both yourself and Captain America were on the floor, with you on top. You hoped that wasn’t the last time you were on top of Steve.

“Jesus Christ! What the fu-” Steve stopped and took a deep breath, craning his neck to look at your smug face. “Fudge.” You pouted. “That was dirty, Y/N. I didn’t expect this from you.” You couldn’t believe he was using the patriotic Captain America gaze of disappointment on you.

Grumbling, you picked yourself off the floor and dusted yourself off. You extended your hand out to Steve who, after narrowing his eyes at you, took it. He was honestly right to doubt your intentions. As soon as Steve turned around, you took the liberty to smack his ass. Hard. 

Steve whirled around with a wounded look on his face. “Y/N!” he shouted, hand reaching back to rub his butt. Seeing the innocent smile on your face, he huffed and walked out, completely ignoring the sniggers from the rest of the people in the room.

“Love you too, Cap!” you called out after him. He just flipped you off.

_________

Steve was fed up with the bet. You had been provoking him all day, popping up at the most random times to cause chaos and get him to break. He bet you could give Loki a run for his money for his title as ‘God of Mischief’. 

Sometime while he was training, you had snuck into his apartment and had rigged his bathroom door to dump a bag of flour on his head, so he literally could not take a shit in peace. Fuming, he punched a clean hole through his wall, which Tony was certainly not happy about, and tried to lay down on his bed before realizing that someone had replaced his bed with one that was too short so his legs hung off the sides. Steve had to take a minute to stop himself from giving you a piece of his mind.

That wasn’t all. Even Fury was in on the bet. On Y/N’s side. He had been called into Fury’s office under the guise of getting a new mission but was instead locked in the room with the song “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Astley blaring on the speakers for an hour. He ended up punching the window and jumping out of the building to escape the torture. It definitely was not one of his finer moments. Y/N was going to pay for what she did.

_________

There was only an hour left of the bet. Steve had survived a feather ambush, a cactus crowd, and a salt shaker stuck to his leg. (It was still stuck. He couldn’t get it off.) All things considered, Steve was feeling pretty smug, certain that he would win. But when he took one look at Y/N’s face, he immediately thought again. 

Trying to escape, he speed-walked into the lounge, trying to escape from Y/N, but not wanting to be rude. Instead of an empty room, every single Avenger was there. Raising one eyebrow, Steve walked past Bucky, who smirked at Steve, and tried to open the door. When it didn’t open, Steve looked back at all of the smiling Avengers. 

“Why am I being locked out?” All Steve wanted to do was wait out the rest of the bet in his room, but sadly, the Avengers were a bunch of nosy bitches who liked to bet on his life.

“Well, I didn’t want you to miss out on the main event,” you drawled, tilting your head slightly with an innocent look on your face as Steve slowly turned around and pouted.

“Just get on with it.”

You beamed, pulling out a tablet. “It will be my pleasure.”

The lights dimmed dramatically, leaving the room in darkness except for the spotlight, which shone directly at the corner of the room, where Bucky just happened to be leaning against the wall. Picking at his nails with a knife, Bucky was unbothered by the stares and the cameras pointed at him, taking his time to start talking.

“This is what I call the incident of a thousand seconds.”

Bucky didn’t even get two sentences in. “Absolutely not.” Steve wanted to curse up a storm. “No way.”

Natasha cut in. “Well, now I’m intrigued. Spill.” 

“I’m just saying. You know exactly how to end this, pal.” Steve just glared. There was no escape. If Bucky put his mind to something, there was no stopping him.

“As you know, Steve respected one Peggy Carter.” Steve groaned loudly, shoving his face into his hands. “One day, Peggy wanted to ask Steve about some battle strategies, but it wasn’t the right time.”

“Do you really have to make puns about my misery?” 

As if Steve hadn’t spoken, Bucky carried on. “Steve had just gotten back from a successful mission and was celebrating with the rest of the Howling Commandos. Peggy came by and asked Steve if he ‘had a sec’. And poor, poor, Steve. Without even thinking, he responded ‘Yes, I have a lot of--’”

“Oh fuck off, Buck.” The room spun around to face Steve, whose face paled. “No.” His eyes widened. “I didn’t say that out loud.” But, looking at Y/N’s grin, he knew he had messed up. “Fucknugget.”

_________

Steve wasn’t one to go back on his word. The next day, he signed the paperwork for Y/N to adopt a pet. He hoped that with Natasha going with you to the animal shelter, she would stop you before going too far, but he very much doubted it. The newest addition to the team was set to arrive any minute, and he could tell that Sam and Bucky were the most excited.

“And a drumroll please,” you shouted, always having a flair for the dramatics. Steve didn’t move an inch. Unbothered, you held up a gray kitten like it was Simba from the Lion King. 

“Introducing… Princess Avocado Elizabegg Eggbert.” 

Steve let out a wail of anguish. “Please. I’m begging you. Please change her name.” 

“No.” Cuddling Princess Eggy closer, you made indecipherable high-pitched sounds at your new baby“Please?”

“You’re such a sore loser.”   

__________

@tessabennet​ Thank you for reading this and encouraging me to finish!! :)

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Reblogs, comments, and likes are all greatly appreciated.

[90slevi]

Late-Night Talks {Levi x Reader}

TW: threats of violence, cursing (all canon-typical)

It was the middle of the night. You were supposed to be in bed and resting, ready for another day of intense training to prepare for the upcoming expedition, but you couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts littered your brain, and an unexpected fear flooded your veins. Despite being one of the best soldiers on the Squad (Levi's Squad, too), you were constantly filled with anxieties and worries. Not about yourself, though. Ever since you'd joined, you were prepared to die whenever you left Wall Rose. But... you weren't ready to watch another one of your friends be eaten at the hands of a monster.

Sitting in one of the trees outside the dorm building, you looked up at the sky to see it littered with stars, not a cloud in sight. It was also a full moon, and you hoped that it was a sign that nobody would die on this expedition, which was a stupid thought because at least ten people always died. Ever since you were a kid, you'd wanted to know the mysteries past the walls. There was so much more to life than just sitting inside Wall Sina eating bread and watching people live in boredom, so that's why you'd joined the Cadets.

You'd never been prepared for the mental and emotional trauma that came with it, though.

You were quickly shaken out of your daydream, however, when a very authoritative yet all-too-familiar voice shouted for you at the bottom of the tree.

"Oi, Soldier, get down from there," Captain Levi demanded, a hint of tiredness laced in his strict tone. You sighed and looked down, your eyebrows raised at him without saying a word. You knew Levi hated it when he was ignored, especially by someone in the inferior ranks, but you weren't too bothered.

You were close, after all. Maybe a little bit... too close.

"Hey, are you deaf?" he asked, still unable to notice who it was due to the darkness. "I said-"

"Yeah, I heard you," you responded with a sigh, spinning around on the branch you were sat on so you could properly look at him. Levi gave you a quick glare before aiming his manoeuver gear up at the tree and shooting so he was right next to you. "What's up?"

"'What's up'?" Levi repeated, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I should be asking you that. It's 2 in the morning, get back to your dorm."

"I can't sleep," you shrugged, gesturing at your black pyjamas you were still wearing. Instead of using gear as Levi had, you'd chosen to simply climb the tree, something you'd done since you were little. "Thought I'd come out here and look at the stars or something."

Sighing, the black-haired Captain shook his head and reluctantly sat down beside you, deciding it was no use in telling you to come down. He also couldn't be bothered to drag you down by force. It was clear the both of you were tired; he was too lazy to raise his voice and you had obvious bags underneath your eyes.

Plus, he didn't really enforce the rules on you.

If it was someone like Eren Jaeger or one of the 'brats' who'd just moved up from the trainees, he would've either forced them down or booted them off the tree, but he liked you. The two of you got along incredibly well and were often seen spending time together alone by other cadets, who assumed at first that the two of you were in a relationship. Levi didn't exactly like this rumour and shut them up instantly with a swift kick in the shins, but began to realise he did feel some sort of way towards you that he didn't with other people. And it was the same for you, too.

Unlike Levi, you'd actually felt romantic attraction to people before, despite it only being once and swearing on your life you'd never do it again, so at least you knew what it felt like. After the two of you discussing a possible relationship, you'd decided to not get together in fear of what could happen if one of you were in danger or, even worse, killed. Emotional connections weren't the best thing to occur in the Survey Corps, because you could confess your love one day and then be brutally squashed the next day by a Titan. And although it was highly unlikely that Levi was dying anytime soon, you weren't as skilled as he was and had almost been killed on multiple occasions already.

This didn't exactly stop the two of you from feeling that way towards each other, however.

"You look tired," Levi said, his voice much softer now. You nodded, a small smile on your face. "You can always visit me, you know. When you can't sleep."

"I could," you chuckled, looked down at the ground as your legs hung dangerously off the side of the branch. "But others would definitely get the wrong impression. Plus, I don't think it's exactly... right for a soldier to visit their captain in the middle of the night."

"Who cares?" Levi muttered, rolling his eyes and making your smile widen at his attitude. "I can always make you tea to help you sleep."

"I think the only way I'd be able to sleep was if you knocked me out," you replied, your memories going back to the time Levi had actually made you unconscious just so you could get a wink of sleep. It was something the two of you had laughed about afterward, but at the time... it wasn't really that fun. Plagued with nightmares and waking up crying, Levi couldn't figure out anything other than booting you in the head to get you to have even an hour of sleep. Levi scoffed at your comment and cracked his knuckles.

"I can do that if you wish," he said, and you grimaced, holding your hands up.

"I'd rather not," you answered, remembering the issues you'd had. "You nearly gave me a concussion, and I had that bump on the back of my head for nearly a week!"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you'd got brain damage," he mumbled off-handedly, and you playfully hit him in the shoulder. "Oi!"

"I sometimes wonder if YOU'RE the one with brain damage," you teased, and he hit you back. You pouted at him, and he gave you the classic Levi-glare you were all too used to now.

"If that's what I've got, then putting up with you is what gave it me," Levi threw back, and you gasped dramatically, falling backward. His eyes widened in surprise, one of his arms automatically reaching out to catch you, but you were fine. All you were doing was hanging upside down from the branch, using only your legs as support as you swung dangerously. It was something you'd done for years, so it was fine, but clearly, Levi wasn't used to it. "Doing that will definitely give you brain damage. Get back up here!"

"You're just using that as an excuse because you're scared, aren't you?" you giggled, pulling yourself back up to safety and adjusting your pyjama top. Even if your shirt had risen early, you didn't mind; Levi had seen your body before, so it wasn't like it was something sacred you had to hide. "Awh, is Levi scared that I'm gonna fall?"

"You just looked like a total idiot, that's all," he shrugged, rolling his eyes again as he looked away. You adored teasing him; it completely tore away that tough persona he liked to put on in front of the Cadets and other soldiers and showed a much more vulnerable, real version of the man you cared about so much. "And I don't exactly fancy having one of my best soldiers having a broken bone or two only two weeks before the expedition."

That word. Expedition.

You went silent, your heart racing as you were reminded so suddenly of the impending doom you were so close to experiencing again. Gulping, you began to sub-consciously nibble at your thumb, and Levi noticed your anxieties pretty much instantly.

Ah, so that's why you're up here.

"Maybe that was your intention," Levi said calmly, raising an eyebrow. "To break a bone supposedly by accident so you don't have to go on the expedition. Coward."

"As if I'd ever do that!" you exclaimed, a little louder than you'd intended. The Captain cocked his head with his eyebrows raised, almost judging you until you were able to tell him the truth. He may be cruel with his way of getting information out of people, but he was determined to do it. That way, he could actually help you instead of giving meaningless hope and compliments that were bound to do nothing in the long run. "I'm just... a little scared, that's all."

"It's funny that you think you're the only one," Levi scoffed, rather surprised that you were so nervous you were hiding away. Usually, you came to him with your problems, trusting him enough to share even the stupidest of things, but this was... odd. Either you were absolutely terrified or there was another thing you weren't telling him. "I bet the Cadets are absolutely shitting themselves. C'mon, there's something else, isn't there?"

"And what will you do if I don't tell you?"

"Beat the shit out of you."

You snorted before looking down at your feet. As unlikely as it was that Levi would even lay a menacing hand on you, you wouldn't be surprised if he actually did go on his word just to get the information out. He was caring... in a very strange way. But you didn't mind; the two of you were just as good as each other at hand-to-hand combat, so it'd be a challenge for him to properly harm you as he did with the Cadets and lower ranks.

"You'll laugh at me."

"Have I ever laughed at you, brat?"

"Yes."

Levi was silent, trying to recall the last time he'd ever even laughed, never mind at you. Although... there was one time where he'd made fun of you for something pretty dumb, and then there was another time when he chuckled at you when you dropped a piece of bread and flipped it off, and then-

Okay, you'd made him laugh more times than he'd like to admit. But that wasn't the point.

"That's a lie," he ironically lied, his face still as blunt as ever despite joking around. It was something you surprisingly liked about Levi; his dry sense of humour was just as dry as he acted, and it suited him well. "Now, brat, tell me."

"It's just the same old stuff, really," you shrugged, sighing as you looked up at the sky. You had no idea what time it was, only that it was between 2am and 4am just by glancing at the moon and knew you ought to get at least a bit of sleep. You yawned, and Levi noticed. "It's stupid because I know for a fact it'll happen every time I leave these walls, but I don't want people I know to die. Especially those I care about."

"Tch, everyone feels like that," Levi said, thankful it wasn't anything more serious. Just the average 'I don't want people to die' talk. "Even Eyebrows, which is shocking, I know."

"I know, but..." you trailed off, not wanting to talk about your worries about Levi. He had the most dangerous part of the whole expedition in the next two weeks and although you knew he could take it, there was still an incline of worry that spread across your body like a parasite. Sighing, you yawned again, pressing your palms into your eyes to try and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Levi raised his eyebrows and put his hand firmly on your thigh.

"Well, if you're not gonna tell me, then you're going to bed," he insisted, standing up and holding his hand out for you to take. Reluctantly, you rolled your eyes and took it, being pulled to your feet and pulled into his side. "And if that means knocking you the fuck out, then so be it."

"And what if I don't wake up in time?" you asked, watching as Levi shot into the ground with his gear and pulled you with him. He sighed, grabbing harshly onto your wrist so you didn't run away.

"Then you'll have to train even harder when you do," he said bluntly, and you groaned in disapproval, trying to ignore the slight pain in your wrist he was causing. "Because I'm not having your stupidity and exhaustion cost you your life. Got it?"

"Got it," you muttered, pouting as he dragged you up the stairs in the dorm building. It appeared that he was taking you to his room to make sure you actually slept instead of sneaking back out of your window. Although, you didn't mind spending the night with Levi. Even if the two of you didn't sleep, you still ended up having late-night talks and even at some points drinking. Luckily, he had a very high alcohol tolerance, being able to drink over a bottle without showing he had done in the morning. You, on the other hand, weren't so tolerant... "God, people would think you've been hired to look after me or something."

"It feels like that 90% of the time," he replied, and you grinned, entering his room.

Once again, it was just as spotless as last time you'd been in there. It was constantly organised, with his bed covered in crisp white sheets and a pile of papers displayed neatly on his mahogany desk. Books stood in alphabetical order on his bookcase, completely dust-free, and his curtains were closed symmetrically over his window. Two lit candles sat on his desk, presumably lit just before he went to fetch you, and his green cloak lay folded-up over the side of his sofa. It was a comfortable room, and one you really enjoyed visiting.

"So, am I knocking you out, or are you gonna sleep, Y/n?" Levi threatened, flopping down onto his sofa as he unbuckled his gear. For someone who only got two hours of sleep per night if he was lucky, it was pretty hypocritical that he was trying to get you to go to bed. It was also nice to hear him call you by your first name for once, instead of a stupid nickname like 'brat' or 'dumbass'. "Choose quickly, because I'd quite like to finish the book I was reading."

"I think I'd rather sleep without getting punched in the face," you answered with a grin, flopping down onto his bed that you'd slept in multiple times before. For some reason, it was always comfier than the bed you had in your dorm room, and despite not being a double bed, it managed to fit the two of you in easily if you both wanted to share.

Then again, you both weren't the tallest of people.

"Yeah, that's the better option," Levi sighed, sinking calmly into his sofa as he pulled off his boots and tucked them beside the door. The room was silent for a few minutes as you closed your eyes on top of his bed, not even underneath the duvet. It was still unlikely you'd sleep much, as there was a lot on your mind, but at least you were resting. Then, Levi's voice entered the room. "You're not going to sleep, are you?"

"Not really," you muttered, your eyes cracking open. You stared at the ceiling, hearing the man's footsteps walk over and eventually stop. Turning your head, you noticed he was squatting beside the bed, his face pretty much right next to yours. His expression was much softer now as he watched your eyes move, and he reached up to brush your hair from out of your face.

"I'm not an idiot, I know there's more on your mind than just the stupid expedition, Y/n," he said quietly, a stern tone to his voice despite being calmer than usual. You hesitated before looking away, rubbing your face as you tried to gather your thoughts. Unlike usual, you had no idea what had you so on-edge, and you couldn't explain it to Levi if you tried. "And if you don't want to tell me, then that's fine. But you really need to sleep, because I don't want my next dead recruit to be you."

That was it. That was what was on your mind.

You'd never really gotten over your feelings for Levi; you'd just pushed them to the back of your mind until you hopefully forgot about it, but it was impossible. Every time you were in his room, every time you even spoke to him, and every time he looked out for you just deepened your feelings, and it stressed you out. You didn't want to love someone, especially while the two of you were in the Survey Corps. And the fact he made sure you weren't at the risk of dying, more than he looked out for the other Cadets and Soldiers, showed he felt the same. A small smile appeared on your face.

The world was cruel. Too cruel.

"Well then, goodnight, Levi," you said softly, reaching your hand up as you brushed his hair out of his eyes as he'd done to you just a minute ago. You then lifted your legs up and tucked them under the duvet before closing your eyes. You knew Levi was confused, but it was better for him to be like that than to be crushed with you admitting your feelings all over again. "I'll maybe tell you soon, I dunno. But for now, I'm gonna get some sleep. Feel free to join me!"

You heard Levi 'tch' under his breath with a small sound of amusement before he walked back to the sofa. He also mumbled something inaudible to you, but you didn't really care.

Although you couldn't do anything about it, you were glad you'd finally come to terms with your worries.

If only Levi could too.

[angstyaches]

okay but i’m in love with the concept of bamf! Charlie and vulnerable! Shayne could i have some of that please?? 🍄

WHoa, look who finally got back to posting fics. I edited it SO MUCH, so there are probably inconsistencies, but I literally cannot look at it anymore.

Takes place a few days after Frost/Bite.

CW: nausea, panic, supernatural elements, possession, body sharing, slight possessiveness (maybe? could be interpreted like that?)

_

Shayne gulped and tried to breathe, tried to situate himself properly in his surroundings. He hadn’t imagined he would reunite with Charlie in a place like this; an abandoned section of railway ten minutes outside of the town, where Elliott said Nancy often came out to practice enchantments and where Ryan sometimes took the boys to practice combat and hunting techniques. In a way, it was like the Aldridge’s backyard, despite being nowhere near the townhouse itself.

He hadn’t imagined reuniting with Charlie much at all, really, since the idea alone was enough to make his lungs feel like they were collapsing. And now that the time had come, his stomach was twisting, and his body was trembling and cold, and there was no room left in him for anything else.

“You doing okay, buddy?” Felix asked.

Shayne groaned and kicked the toe of his boot against the metal railing at the edge of the train track. Flakes of rust dropped away into the frost. 

“You’re excited to see your friend, right?”

“Excited?” Shayne looked up, searching Felix’s face for any hint of sarcasm. “Should I be excited?”

“Sure? Maybe?” Felix glanced at Elliott, whose face made it clear that he didn’t intend to get involved. Felix’s own face made it clear that he regretted opening his mouth at all. “You want to see Charlie, right?”

“Yeah.” Shayne swallowed and shifted his feet in the icy grass. “I just – I feel sick, more than anything else.”

“Well, what did you devour a demon for, when you knew you were gonna be seeing Charlie soon?” Elliott snapped, losing hold of his stoic silence. “Is there a brain in that head of yours, or is it just vapours?”

Shayne gulped and tried not to visualise the entity’s soul that was currently being squeezed into the other dimension by his insides. He spent most of his waking hours trying not to visualise this, but anxiety and panic made it harder to distract himself. He’d hunted that demon in preparation for this specific day, but now, the pain – coupled with the apprehension – was rendering him unbearably nauseous, and he was starting to wonder if it had even been worth the effort.

“I don’t know what to say to him, after – after everything that’s happened.”

Elliott hummed pointedly. “I’d start by apologising for that shit you said outside his house, when you didn’t know he was listening.”

“I don’t think anything you’re saying is helpful, Elli,” Felix grimaced.

“I also tried to eat him.”

Felix cleared his throat. “I’m sorry; what?”

“Mmhmm, twice.” Shayne paced back and forth in front of the two of them, slowing when the frantic movement made his stomach cramp. “Once as Charlie Two, and once as just Charlie.”

“Hey, that…” Felix chuckled. “I’m sure that sounds worse than it –”

“I tried to chew off his hand.”

“O-kay,” Felix sang, drawing out the O as he mashed his gloved palms together.

“Either way, I think he just pulled up,” Elliott pointed out, nodding towards the slope in the hill. Next to the Aldridge’s car was Trevor Waters’ green Fiat.

And in the end, everything happened too fast.

Shayne wished he could remember the moment he saw Charlie get out of his car and come towards him. If his heart skipped a beat upon being scooped into an embrace, he couldn’t recall. All he knew was that suddenly he had a face full of Charlie’s jacket, and a head full of the smell of him, and a hollow clawing in his stomach that he couldn’t quite put a name to. 

At least he was sure it wasn’t hunger this time.

After what could have been moments or hours, Charlie pulled back to look at Shayne’s face. He hadn’t gelled his hair up, so it was hanging like a clump of soft yellow feathers across his forehead.

His eyes, though, were darkened by something, and that initial haziness fell away as quickly as snow sliding from a tree branch. Shayne swallowed and lowered his gaze to the collar of Charlie’s denim jacket, to the coating of artificial fur inside his hood.

“Something’s wrong,” Charlie breathed. “Isn’t it? Look at me.”

Shayne flinched at the feeling of a hand on his cheek. The jolt of fear was followed by hot, scalding anger; all he’d done for months was long for Charlie to be close to him, and now that he was, his body was doing nothing but betraying him. He shut his eyes, feeling close to tears, but he didn’t know if they would be tears of relief or fear or frustration.

“Shayne, please.”

His gaze flicked up for just a second, before he glanced away again. The temperature of Charlie’s hand seemed to drop, and his hold tightened.

“I’m – Charlie, I’m fine –”

“Shayne.”

Gulping against the second swell of fear in as many moments, Shayne felt his face guided again by Charlie’s grasp. Charlie’s eyes moved back and forth between his; what Shayne saw in them was not the softness he’d come to recognise, but an abject kind of fear.

Like Charlie was staring down something from one of his own night terrors.

“You devoured a demon?”

It was barely a question.

Shayne swore that a deep shadow – a shadow with its own face and its own voice and its own touch – slithered across Charlie’s face, settling in the iris of his left eye, spreading like an oil spill in the dazzling blue.

Charlie’s fingers began to slip the longer Shayne didn’t reply, didn’t deny what he’d been accused of. He practically flung Shayne’s face out of his grip.

“You – you’re still devouring demons? You’ve been…”

Shayne felt his lips start to tremble; all he wanted in the world was for Charlie to stop, to just please stop looking at me like I’m a monster –

“You came here to – I mean, I thought you came here to get away from all that.”

“I-I did, I –”

“You took yourself out of school, away from Mulberry, away from… everything.” Charlie laid a hand on his own chest at this; the back of his hand was pocked with the shadows of darkened veins, of something else coming through. “I thought it was so you wouldn’t have to do this anymore?”

The nausea Shayne had been fighting so hard to keep under control suddenly had a dark, burning grip. The look on Charlie’s face was enough for Shayne to be sure that his stomach was going to turn. He was used to being the object of someone else’s disgust, but he’d never prepared himself for this, for Charlie to –

“Charlie…” As he said the name, Shayne saw that shadowy chasm in Charlie’s left eye deepen. The fear finally churned Shayne’s stomach and made his hair bristle. “C-CT,” he stammered.

“Was it you two?” Charlie demanded, turning on Elliott and Felix. “Was it you two, or your foster parents? Motherfucking bloodsuckers, who did this? Fucking answer me!”

Stop, Shayne needed to say. He needed to tell Charlie that this was all on him, he’d made the decision himself, that the Aldridges weren’t to blame. But the words caught in his throat, the dread felt like a weight in his stomach, and the tormenting thoughts came in like a wave.

Doesn’t he know? This is what I am.

This is what I’m for.

This is all I’ll ever –

It wasn’t until a trembling started, in the ground and in his bones, that Shayne snapped himself out of it and realised what was happening. The tracks groaned under the pressure suddenly being shot through the wood and metal, as though an invisible train was suddenly hurtling towards them.

“Charlie,” Felix was saying softly, proceeding with his palms outstretched in front of Elliott, whose fists were tightly drawn by his sides. “Listen, we – we care about Shayne just as much as –”

“Quiet,” came a steady cry that seemed to penetrate the logic of regular sound and reverberate through the air. “You bastards only see him as a tool, don’t you? Just like the Devines.”

“N-no,” Felix blurted out, never taking his widening eyes off of Charlie. “That’s not – that’s not true at all…”

The ground beneath Charlie’s feet swirled with sickeningly black darkness. The fingers of his left hand curled outward like chipped, grey branches, clutching at the air as though they were directly gripping something.

A sharp crack made Shayne jump, made his knees tremble, and he realised a plank of wood built into the train tracks had splintered and buckled upwards. Felix seemed to notice it too, and he took another step back, drawing Elliott with him. Shayne’s breath quivered as he sidestepped another plank as it warped and snapped, until he finally knocked the heel of his boot on the rusted iron rail and sent himself stumbling. 

He almost caught himself, but then his legs finally sagged and he let himself sink to the ground, clutching the railing with one hand and his stomach with the other.

This isn’t happening. This isn’t your body. This isn’t –

“I took him to the forest so he could devour a demon.”

Shayne’s eyes widened as he heard Elliott speak up. He looked up to see that Charlie’s attention had snapped around to focus on the taller of the Aldridges. Felix’s body sagged slightly, and he lightly clutched at Elliott’s arm.

“Speak,” Charlie and CT snapped, and a wisp of their deep grey fog rose in front of Elliott’s face.

“I took him out to the forest the day before yesterday,” Elliott went on. His face deepened into a frown as his neck and shoulders rolled lightly, mirroring the twist of CT’s curved fingers. His eyes met Shayne’s briefly. “So he could hunt. I also took blood from him.”

Shayne physically flinched on the ground; he couldn’t think of a single reason to reveal that to Charlie, especially at this particular moment. He hugged his stomach, saliva building in his mouth as cold sweat coated his skin.

“You took his blood?” Charlie’s voice trembled with anger and surprise. “You really have no idea how afraid you should be of me, bloodsucker. You have no idea how far I will go to keep him safe from abominations like you.”

“I needed to,” Elliott grunted, his voice heightening. “To… to get us back home. The snow had gotten us lost and I was so weak, and he was – he was in pain and he was freezing, and I could barely keep my head up. I was so dizzy, and he was so –”

Elliott was spilling out the explanation with seemingly little-to-no control, for someone who usually liked to get right to the point.

“He… he needed my help, and I needed his,” Elliott choked out weakly.

Shayne realised it must have been Charlie forcing the truth out of him. Usually, even using his telekinesis around other people made Charlie nervous. And yet, this…

This.

This was his Charlie.

“Ch-Charlie, stop,” Shayne whimpered. His heart clenched and his stomach flipped over again as that gaze was turned on him, CT’s eye burning like black coals leaking smoke, and Charlie’s eye weeping furious tears.

Both, he realised, were prepared to kill for him.

“Elliott, he – he didn’t… I asked him to take me out there,” Shayne whimpered, barely resisting the urge to curl in on himself. “It was m-my decision, and it was – it was probably a stupid one, but that’s the truth.”

His heart pounded as Charlie considered him. Shayne was practically cowering on the ground, but he had the feeling Charlie was taller than he usually was. CT’s demonic fingers were still twitching and curling by his side, causing the pressure in the ground to come through the metal railing and into Shayne’s spine.

“I don’t believe you,” Charlie said. “I can’t believe you.”

Cold fear coursed through Shayne’s gut. “It’s the truth,” he whispered again.

“Why – why would you?” Charlie’s voice almost back at the same level as it always was. Slowly, the black flames began to lick a little higher around his legs, the sunken form of CT’s skull seeping through to the left side of his face.

“I-I –”

Charlie dropped to a crouch and clutched the opposite railing with his branch-like fingers. The metal creaked and the wood began to warp again, closing in around Shayne’s legs like weathered, splintering snakes.

“How could you?”

“I –”

“You left me behind,” Charlie growled, “so you wouldn’t have to do that, unless you LEFT ME BEHIND FOR NOTHING –”

“No.” Shayne found himself shrinking back, arms wrapped around his waist, trembling with the fear of what was inside him; of what he was to the creature standing in front of him. “The last – last time we were alone together, I – I almost hurt you.”

Shayne felt like the rest of the world was being warped as Charlie leaned forward, pressing down on the tracks with both hands now. 

“You devoured a demon before seeing me,” Charlie said, “so you wouldn’t be tempted. So you wouldn’t hurt me?”

The irony was not lost on Shayne as he attempted to hold himself together, feeling like his entire body could shatter under the intensity of that gaze.

The darkness spiked up through Charlie’s face, dragging his hair back with it. “Shayne, when you hurt yourself, you hurt me. That’s how this works.”

“How...” Shayne’s teeth chattered, his breath hitched. “How what works?”

The tracks stopped groaning, and the shadows sank back from Charlie’s eye sockets.

“When you love someone, asshole.”

Shayne’s chest ached as though he’d just been punched, no room left in his lungs for air. His stomach twisted into a knot that only eased up slightly when he felt the first tears start to roll down his face.

“I… I-I love… I love you, too.”

Charlie blinked, the chasm of CT’s control retreating again as his hair fell softly over his forehead. “Shayne…”

“I’m – I’m sorry, Charlie,” Shayne whimpered. “All I wanted to do was keep you safe and this was the only thing I could think of – I’m sorry that this is all I am, this is all I’m ever going to be good for, and it’s the only thing I can do…”

Shayne was shivering as he curled in on his own body. He was so focused on trying to breathe deeply enough for his lungs to stop aching, that he didn’t realise he’d sunk forward, pressing his forehead against the wooden tracks that no longer vibrated with demonic energy. Over the sound of the sobs that were catching in his throat, he heard words being exchanged.

“Shayne, I’m – oh my god, shit. Um, hey, it’s okay…”

“This - this is - this is all I can do,” Shayne choked out between hitched breaths, no longer sure if he was telling Charlie, or himself.

“It’s alright, man, it’s not just you,” Elliott muttered. “He’s been a fucking wreck the last few days.”

“You, um, need a hand, getting him to your car?” Felix asked.

“No, I’ve got him.” Charlie’s voice soft and careful. A hand - soft, warm, human - rested on the back of Shayne’s head, fingers combing through his hair. “Just give us a minute.”

“I’m sorry,” Shayne whispered through clenched teeth, shivering as Charlie’s touch sent warm shivers over his skin. He nudged his head against the hand, eventually following it upwards so that he was looking Charlie in the eye again. He was dizzy and even more nauseous than before, but he forced himself to focus as Charlie brushed a thumb against his cheek.

“Hi,” Charlie whispered.

“Hey.” Shayne directed his breathless, trembling energy into a half-smile, which made Charlie’s blue eyes light up.

“Miss me?” Charlie let out a self-conscious chuckle as he asked the question, but it hit Shayne in the gut. 

He winced and leaned his cheek into Charlie’s hand again. “Every fucking day.”

[quasieli]

top six: fictional characters that give you gender envy, flowers, little things that make you happy and d&d moments :D

Ooh lotsa questions!

Gender Envy:

1) Bow from She-Ra (2018). Something about buff athletic dude who wears crop tops and is soft as hell is very Gender to me.

2) Vax from Critical Role. Pretty boy, kinda goth rogue? That’s sexy as hell and I wish that was me. 

3) In a wildly different idea of gender envy, I’ve been thinking about it lately and @quantum-lesbian’s character in the Frostmaiden game I’m in with them, Ambrose, is Big Gender. Beautiful non-binary drow with a starry and kinda witchy aesthetic that dresses super grandly and ostentatiously no matter the occasion? Yes please.

4) Pete from The Unsleeping City, specifically season two. I adore season one Pete but season two Pete that works in a queer bookshop and has a teapot arcane focus, is artsy and is unapologetically a trans man who doesn’t give a shit about gender roles? Sign me the fuck up.  

5) Beau from Critical Role. Buff GNC lesbian mixed with academia, but like academia from the prospective of a grad student with ADHD trying to learn everything about their special interests? A+, I love her and I’m jealous. 

6) I’m gonna cheat a lil bit for this last one. I know the prompt is fictional characters, but Julia Lepetit and Jacob Andrews in their Hitman streams? Simultaneously both of them were Gender for me. Jacob esp felt like that for me, which is weird cause dresses can make me dysphoric, but I am also slightly envious of the Dude in a Dress type of gender presentation. 

Can you tell that I’m a confused trans masc enby

Gonna put it under the cut from here cause oof, there’s still a lot more.

Flowers:

1) Big slut for Sunflowers, always have been, always will be.

2) Fun fact, my dad’s family used to own a flower shop (in like the 70s, so I never got to see it :(), and one of their big things was hydrangeas. My dad has always loved them and now I love the snowballs too!  

3) A recent favorite, the Baker’s Globe Mallow. It’s a type of flower that only grows from the soils of forests that have been affected by wildfires. It’s a simple little flower but I love the idea of something beautiful rising from the ashes after tragedy. A little dramatic, but I’m queer, ofc I’m dramatic.

4) Roses are another important flower to my family (Rose was a family name for a couple generations), and ya know, they’re a classic. 

5) There’s this beautiful magnolia tree in front of my house that blooms with the most beautiful white and pink flowers every spring, and it’s one of my favorite things to see every year. 

6) There’s so many different types of Lillies and they’re all very pretty, but the Purple Stargazer is prob my favorite.

Little Things That Make Me Happy:

1) My cat, Maddie. She may be a cranky girl at times, but she is also very sweet and will always be my baby (even though she is 12). 

2) Not a little thing really, but my best friend. Just getting a sweet/silly text from her or the two of us chilling in a room, sitting in a comfortable silence because we just like being together, nothing better. 

3) Baking, esp if I’m doing it for others. I’m not much of a sweets person myself, a little treat every once in a while type person, but I love baking. It’s a very relaxing process for me, even when it can sometimes get stressful, but seeing people enjoying something I made, especially something that brought me great joy to make, is simply the best. 

4) In the same sorta vein, crafting and other art, but that’s a bit more personal. I love making things for others, but art, particularly drawing, is something I do more for me. It’s such a great feeling when you can get into a really good art mood and just sink yourself into a project. I love it.

5) My plush toys. Yes, I am a 23 year old, no I will not stop loving my plushies. I just got a few new friends, which I made a post about recently, and they such good cuddle buddies. However, there is one king amongst them all. I have this old, beat up christmas puppy beanie baby, on his tag named Jingle Pup, but I just call him Jingle. I had one version of him since I was like 6, but he currently lives on a shelf cause he is very beaten up and fragile, but his “brother”, who I got when I was 8, is still in kinda good shape and is currently chilling on my chest as I type this lol.

6) Again, not a little thing, but it’s important to mention; D&D. The game itself is such a joy, but truly the best part of it is the people. I love creating stories and memories with people through this weird little game. Truly one of my favorite things to do.

D&D Moments:

These are all gonna be personal moments, rather than anything from actual play shows/podcasts. RC is Reforged Campaign, where I play Saube, and FM is Frostmaiden, where I play Sparks.

1) RC - Meeting Mahety, Saube’s girlfriend. We met her way back in session 12 and we are now up to like session 73. Saube saw her and was immediately big heart eyes at her but also felt a bit awkward and shy. So, being a game a dice, I decided to roll. 10 or higher, Saube would talk to her, 9 or lower, she’d stay put. I rolled a 17, 17 is now a lucky number for me. I love Mahety and I’d die for her. 

2) FM - This was an insane fight that should not have been so crazy, but in a fairly early session, my group went up against an angry druid and her awakened animals. So much batshit stuff happened in that fight, and we unfortunately lost our bread loving bard (RIP Agneyis), but one of my favorite combat turns happened in this fight. Our artificer, Omaren, has a robe of useful items and one of the patches on it creates a large pit. Thinking quickly, Omaren tore off the patch, slid it under one of the dire wolves we were fighting and created a looney tunes style pit under it, allowing us to take it out easily via pot shots. Such a clutch move and such a funny visual, especially because the dire wolf kept failing the checks to get out of the pit.  

3) RC - Saube’s Zebrith (I will never remember how this actually spelled RIP). So, for context, Saube ended up with a death curse (long story) that mechanically meant they had disadvantage on any death saving throws. Scary as hell, need to get that fixed! So, Saube and their party had to be smuggled into another country to talk with some religious leaders of a goddess known as The First, the goddess of death. They were told that Saube would have to go through the aforementioned ritual, which included her soul leaving her body for a short period of time. During this ritual, her friends had to call back to her, to say things that would bring her back to her body and I still cry thinking about that game. That ritual was not only important for Saube bodily, but spiritually as well. After that ritual, Saube officially became a cleric of The First! 

4) A real sappy one, RC - Saube meeting all of her friends. Anyone who follows along with the rantings on my blog probably knows how important this game is to me. I met this random group of strangers on tumblr and formed a D&D party with them and now, a year and a half later, I honestly think it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I know that sounds silly and dramatic but not only has this game brought me so much joy and comfort, but I also gained a group of really amazing friends who have been nothing but amazing since day one. As much as Saube knows she can depend on SICL, I know I can depend on my group of weirdos lol. We both love our friends very much and even though we’ve all been through some crazy shit, we wouldn’t change it for the world.    

5) RC - Just playing Saube in general. I really didn’t intend for it to be this way, but Saube is very much a reflection of myself. She is the first long term character I have ever played and so much of me is in her. I try not to treat D&D like therapy, because that’s unfair to my DM and fellow party members, but playing Saube has allowed me to work through some of my own problems, especially social anxiety, in a lot safer of an environment. It isn’t so much that I’m asking this game to help me fix my life, but playing out these scenarios that, in the real world, would make me anxious or make me freak out, I can stop, take a moment to breathe and work out these issues in a way that makes sense to me. Playing her has led me to understanding myself a bit better, as well, and that’s truly such a wonderfully unexpected gift from this whole experience. 

6) Lastly, a silly one: RC - Getting a crit 6. The last session of this game got real interesting. Saube’s party ended up in the ethereal plane and magic got real fucky there. So, any time any of us tried to cast a spell, we’d roll a d20, not look at the result, and then try to guess what number rolled. The closer to the number, the better the result. A few times, a few people managed to get within like 3 or 4 of their roll, but oh the power I felt when I rolled a 6 (on Saube’s die!) and guessed it correctly! So, not only did the spell (Bless) work, but it worked super well. So instead of getting +1d4 to attack rolls and saving throws, Saube and two other party members got +2d4 to attacks, saving throws and skill checks. So powerful I broke the rules of D&D lmao. 

[shinsorokiri]

Cat Girls Are Ruining My Life

Shinsou and Todoroki HCs

Genre: Fluff | Crack

Warnings: Language, scratch wounds

A/N: I just busted these motherfuckers out bruh. And don’t worry about it at all Anon you weren’t disrespecting me! I really liked this idea, and boy oh BOY it would be cute. So cute. I hope you enjoy!

Shinsou Hitoshi | Mindjack

Oh bitch

Oh BITCH this is a dream

Pinch him

Wake him up

This is a dream

You’re a Big Cat 🥺

I can just see him literally going :o when he sees you for the first time

Has to fight the urge to pet you, deadass

You notice him right away because you can smell his cat on him

And you get excited because THERE’S A CAT IN THE DORMS

Of course your looks are deceiving though

You are basically a whole ass ninja

You’re super sneaky

It’s insane

Watching you fight is kind of mesmerizing, really

You’re ridiculously agile

And your sneak attacks could be lethal if you really wanted them to be

Honestly one of the very first times Shinsou saw just how terrifying you were was the sports festival

When it came to the wires above the canyons

You and Tsu just kind of looked at each other and shrugged

She did her thing

And you were just 

RUNNING YOU WERE RUNNING ON TOP OF THE LITTLE TIGHT ROPE THINGS

You didn’t even stumble

What kind of balance did you have

He soon learned you had the balance of a trained assassin

And because of your skill in combat

Aizawa decided you would be the perfect sparring partner for Shinsou

He also knows Shinsou, like himself, loves cats

So what better way than to distract him during his training with just your appearance

The first time y’all fight?

He is just pitiful

You take him out so fast

Kind of tragic for him

Aizawa makes him run 4 extra laps as punishment

This continues for weeks

But during this time the two of you get closer

And one day the two of you are somehow dating 

Wow

Crazy

Who would have thought

Because of this, the two of you are always together

And he has seen how your quirk also affects you as a person

You know how Tsu goes 😟 in the cold because she is a frog?

Well

If you cross in front of a sunny window

You HIT the floor

And most times you are unconscious after like five minutes

Shinsou absolutely does not purposely leave his curtains open because he finds it cute

He doesn’t know what you’re talking about

He also knows that when you get annoyed you do whatever the fuck you want

Like one time

Denki was being really annoying

And you were not having it

You were so over it

He had this bubble tea that he got from one of his favorite places

And he was so excited about it

But he said one wrong thing to you

And you just stared him dead in the eyes

And raised your hand next to it

Shinsou recorded it

“(Y/n)… what are you doing…?” “…” “(Y/n) don’t do it…” “…” (Y/n)… please don’t…”

You smacked it off of the table as hard as you could

And just walked away

Denki was very careful what he said to you afterwards

But he finds comfort in watching you do it to other people

And oh you do

But never to Shinsou

N e v e r  t o  S h i n s o u

Because Shinsou knows if he annoyed you so it will never get to that point

Wanna know how? 

Because he pays so much attention to you

That he can tell how you feel

Just by your ears

He’s noticed that your ears will twitch certain ways when you’re feeling different emotions

When you first met his cat your ears were straight up and your eyes were wide

At first he was worried something was wrong

But you just explained you were curious

After that he kept a secret journal with all your little ear placements and what they meant

One time you scared the shit out of Bakugou because he yelled and it startled you and you went fight or flight mode

Your ears went flat

Your eyes were scary

And you hissed 

You hissed at Bakugou

It actually caught him off guard

He yelled again because what the fuck

And this caused you to hiss again because what the FUCK can you be quieter blasty boi

It was hilarious lowkey

But that’s another thing Shinsou has noticed

You have really good hearing

And loud things… they are not your favorite

So he makes sure to always talk quietly and play music quietly

He even asked Hatsume to make some special earplugs that you can wear when you don’t want to hear random unwanted noises

But he does blasts Cat Girls are Ruining My Life by CORPSE sometimes

Just to see your reaction

The first time it happened 

You shriekeed and jumped into the air because when I say blast I mean BLAST

Of course he waited until you were wearing your earplugs

So it didn’t hurt your ears

It just caught you really off guard

He also recorded it

Much to your despair

He likes to pick on you because your little whines are one of his favorite things about you

And all of your little purrs and meows are like music to his ears

BUT

His absolute FAVORITE thing about you

Is how all he has to do is scratch your ears and you basically melt

He loves it

It makes for great cuddles

And when you’re all warm next to him

And he’s just scratching your ears and stroking your hair

Sometimes

You’ll knead his chest

Like your lil hands just start kneading him

And it’s subconscious a lot of the time

You just feel safe and happy 

And you do that

He loves it

He always smiles when that happens

Just knowing you feel that way around him makes him so happy

And you’re just so perfect to him

And wow

He really loves his cat girl

Todoroki Shouto | Shouto

Mans thought you were adorable from the get go

Of course he didn’t know it from the get go

But damn

You are a cutie!!!

And Uraraka knew that he was attracted from the MINUTE he saw you

Because he saw you

And his mouth opened a bit

And his eyes got bigger

And he turned a little red

Of course she said nothing like a good friend

But THEN

Came the day

The two of you were sparring the one time in class

And you were very much beating him

It’s not that it was odd that you were beating him

You’ve done it multiple times before

Even when he used his quirk

You were just too fast

Too nimble

Too quick

And the fighting style you use is very strong

He can never hear where you’re coming from and he can never guess how you’re about to strike

Except for this one time !

He heard the sound of your feet in the grass

And he was guessing you were about to jump and take him down

So he jumped to avoid whatever you were about too do

And he was right !!

You did indeed jump up to take him down with a kick !

But since he wasn’t there

Your momentum kind of

Pushed you more forward than you intended

And instead of hitting him

You just

You landed on top of him

It all happened too fast for him to move out of the way again

So

There you were

On top of him

And he went bright red

And accidentally caught the grass on FIRE

And then started stuttering because omg

Omg OMG you were ON TOP of him !!!

And when you looked up at him to apologize

Oh he was OUT

Why did you have to look so cute :(

“Sorry, Todoroki! I didn’t mean to fall into you.”

“I-It’s okay… um… y-yeah. You’re good. Just an accident is all…”

“Yeah… um… I would get off but… the grass is kind of… on fire.”

“WHAT?!”

He immediately iced the flames away

But after that

It was insanely obvious that he liked you

You made him even more awkward somehow

But you can’t say you didn’t return those feelings

Deku was constantly urging him to ask you out

Of course, he had to tell him what he was feeling for you before he did that

And Todoroki was shocked

So that’s why his heart starts beating faster every time you’re around him

Wild

It was painful watching him try to interact with you after that

Every time

He’s be like I’m gonna do it

I’m gonna ask her

Just watch me !!!

And then

He’d go up to you

And you would smile at him and say hi

And he would just FREEZE

Poor baby

But one day he had enough

“Are you sure she’ll say yes, Midoriya?”

“Todoroki I am nearly 100% positive she will agree to go on a date with you.”

“…only nearly 100% and not exactly 100%?”

Uraraka got mad and literally pushed him towards you

He got the hint and walked over to you

“Hi Todoroki! What’s u-”

“Would you like to go on a date with me? I will pay for everything I promise and there’s this nice cafe and I can-”

He started rambling 

Usually this man doesn’t speak

But you made him so nervous that he couldn’t seem to stop

Of course that is until you interrupted him

“I would love to, Todoroki! When? Tonight?” “Uhhh… yeah, yeah sure tonight.”

The first date of many

He quickly learned that you were actually a cat

Like yeah okay he knew you had a cat quirk

But oh my god

You are a cat

He finds that you’re absolutely drawn to his left side

Of course it’s because he’s warm

But he doesn’t get it until on time you were near the pool

Because Bakugou (being the gentleman he is) challenged you to a fight

And it wasn’t the warmest of days but you are no bitch

So you say yes

And somehow

You end up in the pool

You already aren’t the biggest fan of water

Topped with the fact that it’s FUCKING COLD 

You hop out of that shit

Like do you have a cat quirk or a dolphin quirk

And just bury yourself under Todoroki’s left arm

At first he’s like huh

And then he realizes OH

IT’S BECAUSE I’M WARM

Now he double loves when you attach to his left side

He’s also found out that you don’t like when he pays attention to you and then just stops

Usually you can control the sudden urge to go kick his homework before you do it

But one time he got on his laptop and completely stopped stroking your hair

Which he loves doing because you also purr when you’re happy and he thinks it’s adorable

And you deadass just sat on it

Without even thinking

“Uh… love?”

“Pay attention to meeeeee!”

Going back to the purring thing though

He loves it

He thinks it’s adorable in every way

But of course he’s learned not to

Do things you don’t like

He accidentally stepped on your tail one time

He went to class with claw marks and on his arms and Aizawa had to pull you two aside to make sure everything was okay

The aftermath of that incident was very amusing though

There’s a video of both of you screaming about who was more sorry to the other on Uraraka’s phone

All in all

He loves that you’re like a cat

Because he also just really likes spoiling you and taking care of you

And he’s really happy he’s with you :,)

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Kinks: The Stealth Suit

Summary: Katie has a Stealth Suit Kink, but who doesn’t?? Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT- This enrire series is SMUT so NSFW and NO UNDER 18s!! Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark. A/N: Let’s face it...there’s no plot here bar a load of smut so...yeah.. Enjoy.

SSK Masterlist // Main Masterlist

"For the 500th time...I'm FINE, Steve!" Katie snapped at him. Steve took a deep breath, his hands falling to his hips as the jet fell silent. "I'm not the one with a bullet in my leg" "There's nothing in my leg!" A voice said causing them to turn to the back of the jet where Natasha was sat, Clint wrapping her leg in a bandage. "Its just a graze..." "Nat, I'm so sorry..." Katie started and Nat shook her head, waving her hand. "Nova, I told you to take the shot." She shrugged "It was a 50/50...ee had to take the chance. Besides, it hit him too so..." "2 people, 1 bullet..." Clint grinned, but Katie couldn't find it in herself to smile. "I told Fury this was a bad idea..." she shook her head. "I shouldn't have come." Clint frowned "Hey, Nova look...I know you're not technically an agent now but we'd have been out numbered and out gunned without you...it would have been a lot worse." Katie didn't say anything. Instead she simply nodded and headed over to retrieve a bottle of water before she sat down. How she had gotten roped into this she had no idea. Actually that was a lie. She knew exactly how it had happened. SHIELD had been tracking a big player who had been bragging amongst certain circles that he had something new, a game changer in the world of arms dealing- a piece of the whiplash technology that Ivan Vanko had developed and used to fight Tony back in 2010. As Tony was currently in London, Fury had asked Katie to look over the blueprints Natasha had retrieved whilst undercover. She had JARVIS confirm it was, indeed, a similar technology and that she also knew from history with Stark Industries that it would be possible to manufacture with the right equipment. That was enough for Fury to run a full scale op to exfil Natasha at the same time as shutting the target down and acquiring the designs to prevent this happening again in the future. Katie had been all set to wish them good luck when Clint had levelled her with a look and told her they were a sniper down as Evans had broken his arm in a training op. Katie had shrugged until Fury had looked at her, asking her to take a place on the field team for this particular mission, and as she had sighed Steve had turned to her and simply said that she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to whilst crossing his arms over the front of his broad chest which was adorned with the silver star and stripes...and that was it. She had agreed. 

Because she had a weakness for her soldier...and a fucking kink for that goddamned midnight blue and silver kevlar. The mission had gone to shit. They'd gotten what they needed, Katie covering the rendezvous point where they were meeting Natasha only to see her approaching being followed by a man with some form of machete looking weapon. Katie didn't have a clear shot as Natasha started to duck and dive out of the hostile's way but Natasha had instructed her to take it anyway. So she did and the bullet had hit it's intended target...after first grazing Natasha's thigh as she had thrown her legs up around the guys chest to flip him over. "Stop beating yourself yourself up about it Nova." Rumlow piped up "Sometimes we take collateral and this time collateral was Widow." Katie gave an angry noise and turned to Rumlow "I don't like collateral on any fucking scale Brock..." Rumlow looked as if he was going to bite back but Steve shot him a look causing the man to fall silent. Katie shook her head and made her way back to the seat, pulling our her StarkPhone and burying herself in her actual job, replying to a few emails. Once the debrief was over and Katie had apologised, once again to Natasha, she headed off to the locker room. "You should go talk to her." Nat looked at Steve as he stood up from where he had been undoing the buckles on his boots. "She's pissed..." "She's upset." Steve corrected. "Get to Medical, that's an order." "I'll see to it she does Cap." Clint assures him. Steve gave a nod, swinging his shield up onto his back before he headed off after Katie, taking the elevator down to the floor which held the equipment stores and the changing rooms. He knocked on the female one, poking his head in as he knew she would be the only one in there given the hour and the fact Nat was the only other female on the mission. "Honey?" He asked softly as he stepped inside. She emerged from the locker area, dressed in the tight compression tank-top and shorts she wore under the catsuit. "You ok?" "No." She admitted to him. "Not really..." He sighed and crossed towards her, pulling her into a hug. She pressed her check to his chest as he dropped a kiss to her head. "It wasn't your fault." He said and she shrugged in his arms. He pulled back slightly and tilted her chin up with his glove clad hand and she allowed him to capture her lips in a soft kiss. Katie pulled back, and Steve watched as she cocked her head to one side, biting her lip. 

He knew that look very well. "You're a nightmare..." he chuckled, arching an eyebrow and she shrugged, running her hands up his chest, fingers tracing the silver star. He caught her wrists in his hands and she glanced up at him, swallowing at the darkness that was now in his eyes as they flashed with desire. Without a word he reached down, hands hooking on her thighs as he hoisted her up, his lips crashing to hers, her legs wrapped around his waist, underneath the edge of his shield on his back. Shucking off his boots, he strode out of the main area of the room through to the wet room at the back where he gently set her down on the edge of the counter which held the sinks along the edge of the room. He shifted his hands to her back, holding her strongly to him, lips moving from her mouth to her jaw line and then her neck where he nipped gently. Katie gave a groan and her hands dropped to his utility belt, hastily unclipping it before she next went to the button and zips on his uniform pants. "Want something baby girl?" He teased "You know what I want..." she said as he grinned and decided to help her out. He reached for the waist band of his combats, intending on pushing them down over his hips but she stopped him. "Leave it on" "What?" He asked, his voice was gravely from his arousal and he wasn't quite sure be had heard her right. "You know I love this suit..." she said, reaching into his flies and grabbing his length on her hand, drawing a load grunt from his mouth as she freed him through the space now his trousers were undone at the front. "Leave it on..." "Yes ma'am." He mumbled, one hand tangling in her hair, the other on the base of her spine as he pulled her close for another deep kiss. He gripped the bottom of her compression tank top and she moved her arms so he could pull it over the top, freeing her breasts and she gave a soft sigh as his head dropped to her chest. His tongue gently traced her nipple, teasing it to a peak as his other hand rubbed at her core through her lycra shorts which were fast becoming soaked. She groaned, her head falling back as Steve grinned to himself, the sight of her simply surrendering herself completely to him in such a raw, trusting and unabashed way was something he would never tire of. His lips traced upwards and he felt her gently pushing on his chest through his uniform. Stepping back slightly, he watched as she jumped down and pushed him round so he had his back to the counter before she dropped to her knees, hands sliding up to the back of his thighs. "Fuck..." he half groaned, half cursed as Katie licked the underside of his shaft making her way from the base up to the tip. She looked up at him, his still gloved hand fell to the back of her head, gently tangling in her hair, the other one grasping at the marble counter top behind him. Maintaining eye contact, Katie wrapped her lips around him and slowly moved her mouth up and down her fingers tightening on the backs of his thighs as he did so. He allowed her to control the pace, his hand simply resting in her hair as her head moved back and forth. His eyes never left hers, the mischievous twinkle still present and as she took him to the back of her throat he let out a loud hiss as his cock twitched. His fingers tightened around the marble top and it was then that they both heard a loud cracking noise. Katie stilled, releasing him from her mouth with a small pop and looked up as Steve glanced at the place his hand rest, the side now displaying finger shaped marks in the marble. "Something got you worked up Soldier?" Katie teased and with that Steve gently tugged her hair. "Get up here..." he instructed softly and she did as she was told, rising to her feet. Grabbing her hips he spun her around and pushed her roughly against the sink basin. His hands tore the fabric of her shorts easily and he tossed the shreds of lycra to the side before he pressed his body into hers, one hand settling on her hip, the other ever so tenderly wrapped around the front of her throat. Steve leaned forward, lips by her ear as he used the hand on her neck to hold her head in place so she was looking directly in the mirror. His eyes locked onto hers as he whispered his simple instruction. "Watch" He saw a flicker in her ears, excitement, as he used his foot to knock her legs apart, bending her forwards slightly before he buried himself in her in one slow, deliberate move, eyes not once leaving hers in the mirror. He saw her face screw up in pleasure as she gave a moan at being taken this way and the hand on her throat gave a gentle squeeze. "Eyes on me doll..." he instructed. Her eyes opened again and locked back onto his as he moved his hips, rocking into her, as deep as he could get. Her back arched, her mouth freely allowing her soft cries and whispers to escape while he thrust deeply into her, again and again. The feeling was exquisite to Katie. He always felt good but now, accompanied by the feel and scratch of that suit against her skin, the noises it was making as it rustled with each movement, the clinging of buckles and belts and then the fact he was being so dominant, ensuring she did as she was told and watched him...fuck, she was all kinds of turned on here. The hand that had been on her hip crept round the front if he belly and Steve reached down, teasing her clit, causing her to shudder and a loud wail of pleasure fell from her lips. Steve chuckled slightly, eyes on hers in the mirror. "Shhhh" he said softly, before he smirked "Like that, huh?" "Fuck, yes..." she groaned, as the hand on her neck moved to the side of her face and Steve turned her head so he could kiss her, his hips moving faster now as he could feel himself starting to unravel. "You close baby?" His voice was a whisper and she answered him with a soft moan as his fingers continued to work in time with his trust, his mouth moving to her jaw line, nipping softly before his hand, once again on her neck, forced her face round to look at him in the glass again. "Cap...Captain...I'm gonna..." "Let go...c'mon...thass my girl..." his Brooklyn accent rolled off his tongue as he continued his deliberate thrusts into her, hand holding her neck in place so her face was focused on his in the mirror. He watched carefully, as her eyes fluttered shut for a moment and she reached up, grabbing at his arm, as he felt her tightening around him, her legs shaking as she gave a loud, drawn out moan, her entire body convulsing. When Katie opened her eyes she saw Steve's own flutter shut, his mouth dropping open as his head fell forward, pressing into her neck, biting down softly as he groaned, hips faltering with his release. She watched him, those long eyelashes resting against his now flushed cheeks and when they cracked open to reveal those deep blue eyes she had fallen in love with from the very start, she gave him a soft smile which he returned, tipping her head to kiss him. "You ok?" He asked, his hands sliding over her belly, noticing the marks where she had banged into the unit, frowning slightly. "Did I..." "Stop it..." she instructed him, looking at him. "I'm fine...more than fine...that was amazing." He chuckled, a swell of smugness in his chest warmed him through as he kissed the side of her neck. "Guess you really do like this suit, huh?" He asked as she turned to look at him, her hands tracing the lines of the star. "Prefer the guy that's in it but...yeah, not gonna lie. It does things to me...your ass looks great." She said, looking round him as he laughed. "Its all yours baby" he quipped and she grinned, leaning up to kiss him. "I need a shower." She mumbled "you joining me?" "Can I take the suit off for that?" He asked. She nodded as her lips ghosted over his "Like I said, the suit's a kink...what I really love is the man in it." 30 seconds later said suit was not so stealthily littered around the female changing rooms as Steve backed his girl into the large, rainfall shower cubicle, shutting the glass door behind him with his foot.

[lycanthrology]

17 and 18 for everyone

this one got long sorry sorry

17. Does your oc have an enemy? How far would your oc go to stop them?

Baize hates Aidan so so much it physically pains her. She wouldn’t hesitate to kill him and she knows the feeling’s mutual so it would totally be a kill or be killed situation. To be honest!! there isnt a real ‘this sibling did worse to the other’ because yes Aidan actually killed their parents but Baize planted the idea in his head and he thought she was intending to follow through on the rest of the plan with him, but she backed off and blamed him for it all. There’s nuance but whatever. Aidan and Baize would both die trying to kill the other.

Kaleela’s chill. She doesn’t like Aidan but only really knows him through word of mouth and wouldn’t consider him her enemy. The closest thing Kaleela has to an enemy is Thalia at ballet who’s always trying to audition for the same parts as her. Kaleela’s daydreamed about pushing her down the stairs once but would never do anything like that in real life.

Lennox isn’t personally involved with the family drama so he’s not that invested really. He doesn’t really have enough time or energy to bother with enemies. He has some theorists and scientists he thinks are stupid and mocks them online when he’s bored but he wouldn’t consider them his enemies.

Crow is such a freak. Every single werewolf to ever harm a human in any way is automatically his enemy and it’s his divine purpose to strike them down blah blah blah. He does not like Baize at all because she’s killed humans. He doesn’t actually give a shit about Aidan because Aidan’s only killed werewolves. The only reason he keeps her alive is because she tells him her brother is going to kill humans in the future and she’s working to stop that from happening. Greater good etc etc. But the second it’s all sorted and it’s all over Crow is killing Baize immediately.

18. Is there anyone your oc would kill? Anyone they would kill for?

See above for some of the who would kill who stuff.

Lennox would kill to keep his brother safe. Also if Kaleela was in danger. Baize and Crow ehhh maybe but not as much but potentially. He’s sort of like Crow actually when it comes to a human-first mindset. As he’s someone raised by werewolves, he was brought up in the kind of environment that taught put humans first because they don’t have any intrinsic abilities and sometimes he forgets that’s includes him too and he gets into issues

Kaleela wouldn’t kill if she could help it. She’s a lot more likely to die for someone than to kill for someone but if she would kill for anyone it would be her dad. Depending on which point in the story, Baize as well. She’s more likely to do something with words or the environment than actual fighting, but if pushed she would give it a go.

Baize. Yes, she would definitely kill to save almost anyone’s life, especially if she thinks they’re innocent/caught in something they don’t understand or have any control over. But she’s smart and understands combat escalates a situation and makes it a lot more dangerous for bystanders. She’s likely to act as a distraction to let someone get to safety, knowing she can take hits and be mostly fine with it.

Crow wouldn’t kill anyone that wasn’t (in his opinion) a heretic. He could witness atrocities and shrug them off because it didn’t concern him and ‘errr sorry but it totally wasnt the will of the equipoise she didn’t say i had to step in :)’ He’s a horrid little snake. I suppose he’d kill for the Gardeners. If a Gardener told him they’d interpreted a message and someone needed to die, he’d probably do it.

Aidan. He kills for his own progression and gain (he doesn’t have any people he cares about left) but not that often actually. He mostly just maims people. He’s not actually that much of an over-the-top aggressive person, especially compared to some of the shit Crow’s done, Aidan’s actually pretty tame.

[letsunity]

Not Afraid - Chapter 3

Summery -  

The Bad Batch go to Tatooine to resupply and avoid the Empire. As per the usual, Omega gets separated from the group. Fortunately for her, Krayt's Claw just so happens to be nearby. Bossk and Embo guide her to Boba Fett, who takes interest in why the Kaminoans want her. It's a reluctant partnership, with the Bad Batch having to rely on Krayt's Claw to navigate non-military life.

When it came to hunting, it's good to start small and work your way up. This lot were soldiers, so at least they already had training. Omega didn't, so they'd have to work on that. Being a usual child, she'd get into trouble, so she needs to learn how to protect herself.

A relatively safe place is Lothal, a minor planet nobody cared for. Because no one cared for it, it was a good spot for hunters to refuel and get some supplies. The kid gets to look around, too, which was a bonus. She couldn't be dad's clone, so he wanted to know who her template was.

There's also a connection; he could feel her more than most people. It was a sixth sense kind of thing, knowing people's feelings and such. He didn't talk about it, given that it gave him an advantage over adversaries. It also told him when to be wary around his comrades, as the concept of loyalty is very different in the hunting world.

Whatever it was, he knew that his father had it too. Dad could feel things and react to them, to the point where Boba didn't need to talk sometimes.

There was the possibility of Arla.

Jango had a sister in his original family but assumed her dead. If they had a sliver of her DNA, then that could've been used to make Omega. It was only a theory, but ignoring any possibility was stupid. For all he knew, she's a combination; the Kaminoans can certainly do it.

"Embo, you're babysitting."

Knowing how Dengar could get, the Kyuzo wasn't going to argue. The man had a habit of causing unmitigated chaos when left unsupervised. It was useful, but when not working, it was a pain. Marrok snarled at Dengar, shaking his head at the man's poor smell.

"Out of all planets, what's with this one?" Hunter inquired, noticing a settlement a mile away.

"In communities like this, there's always trouble. Where there's trouble, someone is willing to pay for it to disappear," Bossk answered, attaching his blaster to his back. "You're good with droids, but how're you with people?"

In the clone wars, they fought droids. They were trained to be ruthless with droids. When it came to people, however, they didn't have as much experience. People aren't as durable as droids, so they could seriously hurt someone without meaning to. Knowing how to restrain themselves was important.

"Highslinger can guard the ships; he isn't overly fond of crowds. One of your guys can go with Embo and Dengar to get food, the rest with us."

"I get to come?" Omega beamed, to which the Trandoshan grinned. Boba tossed his helmet to her, watching her investigate the design. "What's this for?"

"You've got a bounty, and people have eyes everywhere. That'll keep your identity hidden, and it's durable enough to take a blaster rifle. Stick with us, and it'll be fine," Boba said, feeling disapproval from the Batch. "Sheltering her is only going to make it easier to catch her. She's going to learn somehow, better early than later."

While Hunter didn't want Omega in danger, she had a habit of getting in trouble anyway. The helmet was a little big on her, but she was certainly obscured.

She could see clearly with the helmet, and it sealed around her neck, making it airtight. It filtered the air, keeping it fresh and safe. She couldn't smell anything, but Omega was ok with that. She could tag along and help instead of getting in the way.

Wrecker complimented her, calling her a little soldier.

"You're confident she'll be fine," Echo noted, disliking the look he got from the teenager. "What? What're you staring at?"

"I thought you were familiar. Everyone's heard about the 'Hero of Anaxes'. The one that escaped the Techno Union and used their own bullshit against them. It won't help much, but I doubt a traitor would do that."

As expected, the pale clone was heavily disturbed. Boba knew that he felt guilty over it, even though that didn't make much sense. It's like blaming a blaster for shooting somebody.

"We did that too!" Wrecker cheered, punching Bossk's shoulder. "We blew shit u-AH!"

Bossk punched him back, harder than he intended.

A thing many people forget is that Trandoshans and Wookies are natural enemies. Trandoshans are capable of being in a fistfight with a Wookie and potentially win. Puny clone trooper armour isn't going to protect against something like that. It made Wrecker excited, knowing he can brawl with someone without restraining himself.

Hunter didn't want them to get attached to this lot; it was a reluctant partnership. Walking with them made him constantly anxious, given how they aren't the honourable sort. The moment they deemed it necessary, they'd turn on Hunter in a second.

Their boss was Hunter's age, though he aged slower. The Bad Batch had been in the field for nearly four years; he's been out here his whole life. The only thing making them allies was the blonde question mark. As soon as Boba got his answers, there was no telling what he'd do.

He has leverage regarding the underworld, but Hunter has something to make the teen need him. If the hunters needed them, then they won't consider betraying them.

"What do you know about Order 66?" Hunter inquired, expecting the boy not to know.

As he did with Echo, the teen looked through him, like he was peering into Hunter's soul. He appeared amused, although Hunter couldn't imagine what he found so funny.

"No point being shy about it, Sarge. What've you got that I'd be interested in?"

So much for being sneaky about it. He'll figure this kid out, preferably sooner than later.

"Inside of every clone is a chip. Once activated, it makes you follow orders, regardless of loyalties. It's why the clone troopers turned on the Jedi," he stated, watching Omega skip around the grass.

Bossk and Wrecker were casually wrestling around, getting filthy and messing about. Echo was keeping Omega away from their frolicking, and Boba wasn't fazed by it. He was more interested in Hunter's revelation.

"Fuck that. Nobody's in charge of me except for me. The girl has one as well?"

He hadn't even considered that possibility. Sure, it was entirely likely that she had her own inhibitor chip, maybe with a different code. Once again, more questions that'll be dangerous to answer.

"Probably. We haven't been affected because of our mutations, and you're already aware of Echo. We had someone else with us, but his chip worked."

"Whose to say that they aren't? It could be acting slower for you."

"Which is why we're trying to deactivate them. When we do ours, we can save our friend, maybe save all of the troopers."

"And the ones that side with the Empire anyway?"

"We'll blow up that bridge when we come to it."

"Already talking like a Bounty Hunter, Sarge."

Alright, maybe the kid wasn't so bad after all.

"You don't have to call me Sarge."

"Listen, Jungle Ramclone; I do what I want. If I want to acknowledge your rank, I will. If you earn a title, you keep the damn thing."

That was the first time someone threateningly called him a Sergeant.

It didn't take too long to arrive at the settlement, a small town. People lived peacefully in a bustling market, trading goods and leading mundane but comfortable lives. Cut used to have a life like this before the Empire ruined it, and it was only a matter of time before the same happened here.

While Hunter wanted it for Omega, it wasn't the life she wanted. She wanted to stay with them, to be a part of their team. Learning how to look after herself would make matters easier. The more experience she had, the less that Hunter had to worry. He'd always worry, but at least he'd be comforted knowing that she could manage alone.

Running into Krayt's Claw could've been the best thing to happen to her. They had connections now, guides who can give them a footing in the galaxy. The dark secrets that the Republic fought to uncover was readily available for them. He didn't intend for this to last, but it provided options.

Maybe becoming a group of hunters was their best option, considering that civilian life doesn't suit them. They're warriors to the bone; combat was engineered in them. Becoming mercenaries with a strict moral code was something to look into.

While observing the various stalls, Hunter took notice of a Sakiyan causing trouble. Duty-bound, the Sergeant stepped in, getting between the man and the young woman. She had an infant in her arms, only a day or so old. The Sakiyan wasn't intimidated until Wrecker walked up behind him, glaring through his helmet.

His presence was enough to send the thief running, not wanting to be on the clone's anger. Hunter helped the woman stand, being careful of her infant child.

"Thank you, kind sirs," she smiled, looking over her baby. He had a small tuft of black hair reminiscent of stubble. "How may I repay you?"

"No problem. Just keep that little one alright, and it's all good," Wrecker smiled, forgetting that she couldn't see it. "If anyone needs a hand, we're gonna give it!"

The baby squirmed at the loud noise, opening a pair of lavender-blue eyes. He looked to hunter, gurgling slightly. Unsure of what to do, Hunter gave a short wave, not used to infants.

"Ezra likes you," she smiled, kissing her baby's forehead. "My name is Mira. If you need some help, come and find me. You're more than welcome in the Bridger home."

And like that, they made an ally. Wrecker felt good, and Hunter had a hunch that the kid would grow into someone special. It was just a feeling; he had something similar about Omega.

Said girl was with Echo, exploring the market with Bossk watching like a hawk. The Trandoshan bought her some fruit, slightly overpaying for it. Hunter started to decipher the reason for this behaviour.

By proving themselves to be generous and kind, the people would be more cooperative. They'd enjoy engaging with such 'honourable' gentlemen, even though they were violent by profession. Boba alone decimated a Star Destroyer at Omega's age, which could be why he had so much faith in her.

Hunter should have more faith in her, too. She was inexperienced, not a fragile piece of glass.

"Build a relationship, provide a financial reward, and you've got yourself a spy," Boba smirked, chewing on some dried meat.

That's what he meant by eyes everywhere. Hunter assumed droids or cameras, but no, he meant average citizens. Anyone was a potential spy for a bounty hunter, the variety ensuring their secrecy. The entire town could be spies for anyone, even the likes of Fennec.

Omega needs to keep that helmet on until she gets her own. Keeping themselves obscure would be wise, too. Their armour is easily recognisable; they can't disappear if everyone knows what they look like.

The teenager nodded as he tossed some to Wrecker, who practically inhaled the meat.

"You're starting to get it."

While it was creepy how the kid knew his feelings, it also made things easier. Boba could feel his intentions, possibly explaining why he was helping. He threw a piece to Hunter, casually re-joining Bossk, Echo and Omega as the girl held a fuzzy loth-cat toy. Bossk repeated the action from before, complimenting the Rodian working there.

He was manipulating the woman. By appearing so sweet with a kid, it'd make her reluctant to tattle.

There was a lot more to this profession than even the Senate could ever realise. He wanted to know more about it.

[wxnnabe]

may I please request hcs or a little fun scenario with Narancia, Fugo, Mista and maybe an unfortunate drunk Abbacchio who is at the wrong place at the wrong time and their female stand user partner they all have a crush on at some degree playing spin the bottle/ truth or dare/never have I e. on a loose night?Most of them teenager after all, maybe Fugo never played it, Mista and the crush thought it's dumb but why the hell not and Abba is tired, crushing, kinda drunk and getting dragged into it.

I aged everyone up for this which is loosely implied-Narancia’s in school and l/i is the newest member. Thank god its not no simp september rn bc NONE of these boys would be passing smh

More under the cut! 

“Spin the bottle? Isn’t that game for t-twelvies?” Fugo slurred at Narancia’s suggestion as you sat next to the two boys. They had been celebrating after a successful mission, which was why you didn’t shy from a fifth scotch, but if Mista and Narancia planned on trying anything tonight…

“You haven’t played it before, have you?” Narancia teased him with a mischievous smile. He looked to you as if deliberating whether he should hold back his snarky remark or not. Narancia laughed, giving him a playful jab in the side and he took a breath before replying.

“And I doubt you’ve had a better experience,” Narancia’s grin soured, and he was about to retort when you stepped in.

“Then why not make this a good one? C’mon, it can’t hurt! What’s the harm in having some fun?” Narancia piqued up at your suggestion, and Fugo relented with a frustrated sigh. Mista shrugged, and sat down next to you, placing the glass bottle on the middle of the table.

“Then it’s decided! Kisses can be wherever the spinner wishes, but you can’t get out of it! As soon as the game’s begun, anyone on this table is playing.” He gave a pointed look at Abbacchio, who glowered back, pulling his chair slowly and muttering about how stupid it was to be playing such a childish game. You stood up as well, stumbling as you did so.

“Abbacchio, please stay? it’s a s-stupid game, that’s true….but we’re so drunk we’ll forget all about it tomorr-hic! ah, tomorrow,” Narancia chimed in.

“Won’t be a game without five!” Mista, suddenly realizing what Abbacchio leaving might mean, banged his fist on the table, getting everyone’s attention.

“We can’t play as a four! C’mon an sit back down, ‘Bbacchio. We gotta…gotta make this interesting, riight? We’ll be in biig trouble tomorrow if you leave…” Fugo gave Abbacchio a pleading look as Mista continued to ramble with a butter knife in hand. 

“You heard the man, hic-! Abba…cchio,” Abbacchio, seemingly overridden by the majority, let out a dramatic sigh and sat back down and rubbed his temples.

“Goddamnit…I’m only playing for a couple of rounds, got it?” Narancia let out a cheer and Mista a sigh of relief, relaxing in his chair and beckoning you to do the same. You felt giddy and nervous at the same time; you can’t say your thoughts around the boys were wholly professional, lest platonic as they should be.

In your defense, the boys in your team were attractive, there was no doubting that. But they each had a part of them that drew you to them.

Fugo might have a short fuse and a dangerous temper, but it certainly wasn’t all that he was. He was smart, and had a kind streak-he truly cared and respected his teammates, and he had demonstrated it to you time and time again. You always looked forward to the rare occasions he would smile at you from his book, sitting it down to have a conversation with you. Most of the time it was about the book he was reading, or a news happening of some controversy; occasionally he would ask how you were and whether you needed any assistance with any part of the gangster life. If he looked like he needed a break from Mista and Narancia you would step in, much to his relief. He looked like he could use it at times.

Narancia was hard to keep up with, you’ll admit; it took time for him to really trust you and to see you as a friend and less like an associate of his friends’, but soon enough you found yourself being pulled into whatever crazy shenanigans he had planned for after and on his breaks from school. It was fun, really-he just tired you out sometimes. You’d find him relaxing with you, complaining at first at how boring it was to be sitting around napping when you could be out “ living your 20’s to their fullest”-then five minutes later, you’d come back with some cold drinks to find him passed out on the sofa.

Mista was goofy, but he had a confident easy-going charm that was endearing enough to withstand his suspicions on luck. He would flirt with you when you were first introduced into the group, and even though you’d tease him lightly you really were grateful for him sometimes, even if just to ease the tension of your new life. Once you were in combat though, he seemed cool as the steel of his gun; he was untouchable in his element. It freaked you out at first, but you began to find trust in that cool composure of his, and relied on it to calm yourself down and focus when things got out of hand.

And Abbacchio, though a fair bit older than the lot of you, also drew you in. You hardly expected that stubborn man would ever soften his barking tone and cold eyes to you- you realized very quickly after being introduced into the group he had no intentions of making you feel welcome. You were patient with him, though. After hearing his story one night after ten too many drinks, (Abbacchio was still his grumpy self when drunk, maybe more so, but he was also quite chatty about his woes) you were determined to make him see otherwise. You knew he had a heart, somewhere-you could see the subtle way he still cared for his team, even if he did bluff by simply taking the fourth slice of cake at dessert to avoid Mista’s whining. 

Actually, this night you were all a little inebriated- the goth man included. It would certainly make for an interesting night.

“Alright then! Shall I start?” Narancia, ever the eager one, shot you a cheeky grin as he lounged in his seat. Abbacchio cursed and took a long swig of his wine, and Fugo…was he blushing? You’d better save yourself from being stabbed by that butter knife he had twirling in his hands and keep that to yourself. Narancia reached out and spun the bottle, and as it spun your stomach suddenly filled with nervous and excited energy. What if it did land on you? Would any of you actually remember what happened tonight? If nobody else did…did you really want to remember it? The bottle stopped, and everyone’s gaze shot up to Abbacchio who was sitting the closest to the end of the bottle. Narancia groaned, and set you, Fugo and Mista into a fit of laughter. Abbacchio looked ready to murder someone, but Narancia nonetheless got out of his chair, faltering as he made his way to where Abbacchio sat.

“I can kiss you wherever I want, right?” Abbacchio glared daggers at the boy as Fugo snorted back even more laughter.

“Try anything stupid and I swear to god…” Narancia rolls his eyes and kisses Abbacchio, just on the crown of his head, a little more rough than intended. As he staggers back to his seat, and Abbacchio grumbles about how crumpled his hair is, your eyes turn to Fugo.

“Your shot, Fugo!” You giggled as he tsked spun the bottle with measurable force. You could have sworn you saw his eyes light up, for almost a second, until Mista pulled his chair out.

“Alright! C'mere and gimme a kiss, you!” Fugo shrugs and reaches over the table, giving Mista a kiss on his cheek. Mista gives him a dopey little smile, and suddenly it’s Abbacchio’s turn to spin. He looks grumpy (probably dreading the idea of having to kiss one of his team members), but gives it a lazy spin. 

Your heart skips a beat, then, when it lands on you. It was bound to happen eventually, but Abbacchio? The others seemed to have similar reactions of shock.

“Seriously?! What kind of luck am I getting today?” 

“Damnit! I-I mean, why do I gotta be the one to kiss Abbacchio?”

You interrupt them, clearing your throat.

“Hey, c’mon Abba-hic! C’mon over here,” Abbacchio gave you a smoldering look you couldn’t describe in this state-like he would march other to your seat and either throttle you or kiss you. Thankfully, he did the latter, holding your chin with one hand and giving you a hasty, rough kiss-right on your lips. 

Your drunk mind was whirring, and you immediately tasted the wine on his lips, and something savory-perhaps the last meal he ate? Despite your shock, you didn’t hesitate in kissing him back before he ended the kiss, which ended almost as quickly as it started. A still silence fell on the table as Abbacchio made his way back to his seat, leaving you blinking and a little out of breath. Just how eager were you to kiss him back? That shouldn’t be normal, if the one sober-ish part of your brain had anything to say about it. You could still feel his lips on your own; was it time you gave those feelings of yours a raincheck? He flashed you a smug smirk as he tapped Mista on the shoulder.

“Your turn,” Mista was frowning at you-or was it your expression? He seemed off, all of a sudden-almost like when he encountered a multiple of four in the corner of his eye. It concerned you, and if you weren’t so drunk off your face, you’d ask him if everything was alright. You brushed it off for now.

His spin ended on Narancia, and with a groan from Narancia and a chuckle from Mista, he walked over to the boy.

“Where do ya wanna get a kiss, hmm? cheeks, nose, I can even do lips if you’re that eager!” Narancia pouted at Mista’s pointed retort and thought for a moment, and pointed to his nose. Mista nodded, almost solemnly, and gave him a lingering kiss.Narancia pulled back, wiping his nose quickly.

“Shit, you got your spit all over me!” Mista looked slightly upset by this, and he staggered back to his seat next to you and whined how he doubted Narancia was any better. Like that, his turn was through and it was your shot. You took another sip of your drink and reached over to the bottle, giving it a good spin. You were suddenly excited; you didn’t care who you landed on, but you wanted to be bold. Hell, if Abbacchio had the nerve to kiss you (and a part of you willed the bottle to land on him again) on the lips, what was stopping you? If they seemed disinterested, you could give them a quick kiss and be done with it.

As the bottle slowed, it stopped, dead on Fugo. You gave him an easy smile, but the butterflies that had burst into your stomach told you that you were anything but easy about this. As you stood up, you felt a rush of dizziness hit you. God, you really were drunk, weren’t you? As you stumbled your way over to Fugo, you noted Narancia with his arms crossed. He was glaring very intently at the bottle in the middle of the table-but you don’t recall it doing him any wrong. (He did have to kiss Abbacchio and watch Abbachio kiss you, you remind your inebriated self when you’re tucked in for bed that night)

Fugo gives you a sort of longing look as you come closer, like he’s hoping you’ll kiss him properly. He didn’t ark up when Abbacchio kissed you, though you could see he was pretty annoyed. God, are they all after you? As much as the thought excited you-tomorrow’s gonna be an icky day.

Regardless of what was to happen when the sun came up, you tilted Fugo’s head slightly so that he was looking up at you and dipped down. You stop yourself just in time before you actually fall on him, and gently press your lips to his. You could tell he was surprised, but he returned the sweet kiss. He seemed like he was holding back, though-the way he followed and matched your pace, just with a little more vigor than you expected. As much as you wanted to deepen the kiss, you were suddenly more aware of the other men on the table-and their possible mixed feelings toward you. You ended the kiss as you stood back up, and gave the stunned boy a soft smile, leaning on the table before making your way back to your seat. 

The rest of the game seemed to drag out, but you managed to kiss Narancia-and, conveniently, earn a kiss from Mista. When you turned to Narancia, he gave you a cocky grin.

“Make it a good one, yeah? That way I can forget all the other kisses I’ve gotten tonight!” The comment was pointed, and you were surprised Fugo hadn’t lost his temper at this point. Talking about a silent Fugo…you could faintly recognize the soft snores next to Narancia, and as you glanced in your peripheral you saw his slumped form on the table sleeping soundly. He looked so serene…but you turned your attention to the boy next to you as he inched closer. He looked slightly nervous, now that the two of you were close enough to really see each other. Come to think of it, you’d never seen any of the boys faces this close before-Narancia, the boy who you were to kiss next, had a cute little beauty spot just next to his mouth you hadn’t seen until now. 

You took as a cue to lean in the rest of the way, closing your eyes as your lips touched his. His kiss was fast and passionate, and though you knocked teeth a couple of times you managed to match his pace sooner than expected, melting into the kiss. As you broke off to catch your breath, Mista banged on the table. 

“Oi, it’s a kiss, not a damn make out session!” Narancia seemed distracted by Mista, and stood up from his chair. 

“Hey, there’s no rules saying otherwise, is there?” Narancia looked to you for back up, and your eyes darted from the bottle to Narancia and to a less than happy Mista. Fugo was still asleep, it seemed, and Abbacchio had long ago left the table, disappearing after excusing himself for another glass of wine. An idea popped into your head (You were really going to regret these drunken lightbulb moments when you woke up tomorrow-or later today, whatever the time was) and you grabbed the bottle, preparing to spin.

“Fugo’s asleep, so I’ll juss spin for him! Once the bottle is spun, there’s -hic! no more arguing!” At this point, you were yelling (rather, slurring) loud enough to wake the poor boy, but as you spun the bottle once more the two boys surprisingly settled back into their seats. The bottle stopped halfway between Abbacchio’s spot and Mista, but before Narancia could rebuke it you turned to the only boy you had yet to kiss.

“Alllright, pucker up, Mistaa!” He shot you a smirk as he grabbed your cheeks and brought you closer to him. Up close, the faint smell of cologne wafted into your nose as you realized how much more inviting his close proximity was. Maybe it was simply that you were blind drunk, and all the other kisses you had received that night were far from innocent, but when he leaned in and kissed you, you couldn’t help sighing into the kiss. He was a bit sloppy-but nothing you could complain about, considering how comfortable you felt with his arm snaking out to cup your waist. You felt like you could melt in his embrace in that moment, but the sound of a cleared throat interrupted the kiss. Mista pulled away, seeming a little too satisfied with the flustered mess he had made of you. He frowned, and gave you a sheepish smile.

“Ahh, sorry…guess I forgot it was your shot ‘n not mine. Ya can still kiss me though, just to be fair ‘n all?” At this, Narancia banged his fists on the table, jolting a now annoyed Fugo to consciousness.

“No ff…fucking fair!” You however, had zoned out from the argument that had arisen on the table. You had enjoyed each and every boy’s company, a little too much. You felt like you were caught in between a reverse harem-four love interests? That seems a bit too much, and all for you… If their kisses were anything to go by, this night wasn’t just a revelation for you.

…Your hangover would be horrible, but you hoped Bruno had a solo mission for you to pursue tomorrow-maybe it would give you a break from whatever storm was coming your way.