#danger force special

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I do wish i could just scroll past pictures of magneto whenever they show up on my timeline and be normal about it but im afraid i do have to stop for at least five minutes to stare at him and after i attempt to scroll past i scroll back up and stare for another ten minutes

[tbhmanchester]

I have been dying to know where on earth you got your pfp!!

my pfp is from the dangerforce Quarantine Chronicles!!! its a series of short videos uploaded to youtube that are similar to the Quaran-Kini Special episode they did during lockdown

my pfp is specifically taken from ep 3 "LEAKED Captain Man Video!" where someone leaks his webcam footage when he's on call to Jeff

you can find the whole series in a playlist here!

[mariocki]

RIP Rachel Herbert (5.1.1935 - 7.3.2025)

"[On speaking a fictional language in The Prisoner:] It gives you - not to have words, which people know the meaning of - it actually gives you an added power because you're putting all your meaning through something which they don't know [...] What they receive is the impetus of what you're doing, so what you're putting over is what you feel, what you mean, it doesn't matter about the word-meaning, that's not there anymore. It's quite fun. In a way."

[unblissfulawareness]

Well what do you know? Her forward approach worked

[klarsynt]

the real reason emil joins the global investigations unit is cause he has empty nest syndrome after saige goes to college

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 3

Episode 7: Hour of Power Part 2

~In the Man Cave~

"Can you turn that off?" Henry bitterly asked Charlotte and Jasper as they watched the viral video of Drex humiliating him in the bakery. They had only just returned to the hideout and the boy was sat with a blanket and his butt in a bucket of ice water, leaving him feeling pretty miserable. Drex had carried on the spanking for at least fifteen minutes after the video was finished and then left to let the crowd laugh at him and (y/n), who was furious that he'd gotten the better of her. That dumb drug, it had left her like jelly and despite the beating he took, Henry graciously helped her walk home. God, this sucked. 

"Come on, Schwoz! Get me out of here!" Ray yelled at his handyman as he sat on a chair with both boxes still locked on his head and hands. (y/n) was by his side, her arms around his shoulders to keep him calm, but he was freaking out. The dumb locks wouldn't budge and with this thing on his head, Ray would never be able to see, touch or kiss his girl ever her again. It was a deliberately crafty move from Drex, who was still hellbent on finding the Man and causing more chaos, but one thing at a time.

"Hang on, Ray. He's trying." The young woman pressed a kiss to the edge of his shoulder and felt him relax a little. This was awful, how was he supposed to show her his undying love and loyalty to her and chase away any doubts she had if he couldn't look her in the eye?

"So, how's your bottom?" Jasper asked Henry, who wasn't happy that people kept asking him about his ass. Obviously, it was red raw, it'd been smacked for like twenty minutes by a madman.

"Spanked. It still hurts." He grumbled, shifting his position in the ice bucket o he could plunge his sore skin in further.

"Isn't the ice helping?" Charlotte asked, having hoped that (y/n)'s idea to soak it in the cold would help reduce the swelling. There wasn't much else they could do apart from waiting for it to heal by itself and there was nothing in the woman's magic first-aid kit that would help.

"No. This is is just giving me numb butt." He complained. Now, he couldn't feel his butt, but it still hurt for some reason. Life was just so unfair.

"Ugh! I can't cut through it." Schwoz whined and stopped using his blowtorch when he realised that he wasn't even scratching the surface of the metal. Everything in his toolbox was useless and after this last attempt, he was out of ideas.

"Dang it, why not?" Ray groaned and (y/n) felt his body sag with disappointment. He had really hoped that this would free him and then, he'd be able to kiss his sweet girl until she couldn't think, feel or see anything but the burning love he had for her.

"Because this helmet is made of neutronium, and it has three different thermo-magnatomic locks. The only way to open it is with a special electronic key. Did Drex give you a special electronic key?" Schwoz asked their couple and if they could see Ray's face, they'd know he was giving the genius the same annoyed look as (y/n). 

"Oh, yeah, right after he drugged me. Yeah, he was like "Oh, (y/n), I don't hate your boyfriend, why don't you let him out so he can beat my ass?!" Of course, he didn't give us a damn key!!" The young woman snarled at the little man, not believing how thick he was sometimes. How can a guy build a teleporter like it was nothing and still be so dumb?

"Look, if you can't get this helmet off, at least get this freakish nut cluster trap off my hands! I haven't touched my girlfriend in over two hours!" Ray growled, shaking the wooden trap at Schwoz. He was starting to get (y/n) withdrawal symptoms and whiny Ray was what no one wanted.

"Oh, I can get it off!" Jasper exclaimed, thinking he had the perfect solution for his boss's problem. When in doubt, use something shooty!

"What's he doing?" The superhero asked the others when he heard that Jasper was gonna try something. Out of everyone who could help him, he wanted Jasper the least. That kid was dangerous with those great ideas of his.

"No, no, no, no, no!" "Jasper, no!"  "Hang on a minute, that's dange—" Too late. Jasper grabbed a small blaster from a cabinet drawer and before he could heed anyone's warnings, he fired a blast at Ray, shattering the box and freeing his hands. It worked, Ray was semi-free, but it also sent him and (y/n) flying back with a load of splinters. 

"Ja-Jasper, did you just fire a blaster at me? Son, I asked you a question!" Ray exclaimed in anger as (y/n) groaned in pain. She was always in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Hold on, doofus. Try again." She winced and stood up so she could make her boyfriend face the right way. There was no point in telling someone off if your anger is directed at a wall.

"Did you just fire a blaster at me?" He repeated the question as (y/n) wondered my her arm was still hurting. Oh right, there was a huge wood stake sticking out of it, fun.

"Well, yeah, because you're indestructible. And look, I got your hands free. You can hold (y/n)'s hand and...stuff." Jasper pointed out that even though the execution was the best, his plan had a good outcome.

"Oh yeah..." Ray's hands began to grab at the air in search of the young woman he so desperately wanted to hold, but she was sorting out her little problem.

"Just a minute, got a massive piece of wood in my arm." She muttered and nonchalantly yanked it out without a second thought. It was funny, one year ago, the injury would make her sob like a baby, but now, she could just let her body do its thing and not worry about her wounds.

"What? You got wood in her arm?!" Ray hissed at Jasper, but it wasn't very scary since he was talking to the air next to Jasper. 

"She's got super-healing! And now, your hands are free, that's the important thing." Jasper reiterated his earlier point, but the superhero was still pissed off.

"Right, so now, I can gesture like this! Go upstairs!" Ray pointed to the store above their heads, even though his body was drifting to face the wrong direction again. He was trying to be authoritative, but he just looked funny.

"Yes, sir..." Jasper complied and trudged towards the elevator. He never got to have any fun.

"Uh...maybe you should go take a nap...with (y/n)," Charlotte advised him, seeing that he needed to calm down. Sleep always helped and having his girl there was even better, but Ray wasn't up for it.

"Drex is on the loose! I gotta get this stupid thing off my head! Until then, I'm useless..." Ray sighed and bit his lip to hold back tears. The offer of being alone with (y/n) where no one could bother them was tempting, but if he couldn't see her smile or bury his face into her hair like he always did when they fell asleep, then what was the point?

"You're not useless." The young woman reassured him and squeezed his hand lovingly. Normally, she'd give him a gentle kiss to make him feel better, but that wasn't possible right now, so she settled for the next best thing.

"Then I guess you and Henry gotta stop Drex." Charlotte looked from the young woman to her friend, who was still looking downhearted in his butt bucket.

"Pfft, are you serious? I can't take on Drex." Henry scoffed and looked at his hands. He'd faced him once and look where that got him, sat in a tube of ice with a sore ass whilst the entire city laughed at him. What could he do? He was a kid, who for a time thought he was invincible, but really, he was just a boy who was lucky enough to be picked for a special job.

"Henry, I can't fight him alone." (y/n) told him, feeling concerned at how defeatist he was being. She'd never be able to fight Drex by herself, he'd wipe the floor with her.

"Why not you can't?" Schwoz asked the kid. His words were confusingly jumbled, but everyone got the gist. He wanted answers like them as to why the usually courageous boy was scared stiff.

"'Cause! I tried to fight that guy and he stuffed me in cake batter and spanked me while (y/n) was forced to watch." Henry replied in a cold voice and stood up from the icy water with the red blanket tied securely around his waist. 

"Where are you going?" Charlotte asked him as he shuffled past her. They needed him, he couldn't just give up.

"Home," Henry answered and ignored everyone's hurt and bewildered faces. Since when did Kid Danger let one thing shatter his resilience and enthusiasm?

"Home? No, no, no, Hen!" (y/n) whimpered and tried to grab hold of the boy's wrist, but he just harshly shook off her grip. Without him, the Man Cave would be one member down and that broke her heart.

"Come on, Henry, you can't just go home, not when this town needs you most." Ray joined in, and his hand felt the air around it to find (y/n)'s. She was starting to tremble, she hated goodbyes, especially when they were like this.

"This town needs a superhero. Or...at least a decent sidekick., who has skills or...a superpower like (y/n)'s or....anything. I'm nothing. I'm not even wearing pants." Henry sniffed and this heartbroken look on his face would stay with his friends forever. He threw his whiz watch to a chair and shuffled off to the tubepads, being careful to keep his towel around his waist. The last thing he needed was to give his friends an eyeful. 

"Here." He pulled out his gum tube and threw it to Charlotte, who looked at him with teary eyes. He loved being Kid Danger, surely, he wasn't quitting, Ray needed him, Swellview needed him. 

"Henry, please don't go." (y/n) begged him, but he was too ashamed to stay. They wanted him to stay but, how could he when he'd failed so spectacularly and brought so much shame onto Captain Man's reputation?

"Up the tube." He mumbled and left the four to sit with their heartbreak in the hideout. Well, Ray was still a bit confused; it's hard to know that your younger sidekick is quitting when you can't see.

"I think Henry just quit his job." Charlotte sighed and walked to the couch. After all that, she needed a sit-down and needed a hug.

"Oh, man." Ray breathed out as he felt his girl turn into his arms and press her face to his chest. She didn't want anyone to see her tears and the way Ray's arms instinctively came around her small body to cradle her head helped to comfort her. 

"We can't blame Henry, I mean, we expect him to act like a superhero, but he's just a kid. He doesn't even have one superpower." She hiccuped against the material of his chest and lifted a hand to wipe her tears away. The last thing they needed was her getting all snotty and mopey, so she dried her eyes. She stayed in Ray's hold though, she'd missed having him so close to her, even though it had been less than ten hours since they'd rolled out of bed that morning. It had been a long day, full of her doubting the security of their relationship and she was grateful to have some time with him because she never knew when it could be her last.

"Yeah, well...maybe we need to fix that," Ray announced, making her and Schwoz gasp. He couldn't mean the thing, could he?

"You don't mean..." She pulled away from him just enough to look at where his face would be and because he could look into her eyes, he ran his hands up and down her back. 

"Sweet girl, Schwoz, I think it's time." He told them and she giggled in happiness. She'd been waiting for this moment for so long, but as usual, Schwoz was two steps behind them. 

"For me to get my colonoscopy?" He asked. It had been ages since he had to cancel his last appointment and he was still waiting to get checked out, but he'd have to wait for a bit longer. Some action was needed.

"What? No! Gross!" Ray grimaced, not wanting to hear about Schwoz's dodgy digestive system and why he needed to have the procedure in the first place.

"But my colon!" The genius whined, trying to get them on board. He just wanted one appointment, was that too much to ask for?

"No more about your damn colon!" (y/n) snapped at him, forcing the small man into silence so Ray could give him his instructions.

"I want you to call Schwabbit and Kooschtello!" The superhero told him and that's when Charlotte, who had been patiently observing the whole thing, jumped in. Was Ray okay in the box? She'd never heard of such crazy names, but then again, if Schwoz knew them, then of course they'd have weird names.

"Schwah—who?" She asked, frowning in confusion from her place on the couch.

"Two very powerful people from my homeland," Schwoz replied and dashed off to the supercomputer so he could make contact. God knows how he was gonna do it, maybe he sent smoke signals or a message by carrier pigeon, but as long as they got to the Man Cave, Ray didn't care and with Schwoz doing what he was told, he could nap with his favourite girl.

"Ah, man, I'm exhausted." He yawned and guided his girl to where he thought the couch was. seriously, he should've just let (y/n) do the guiding because he was headed straight for Charlotte.

"Wait, Ray, don't sit—-" The woman tried to stop him from plonking down, but he did anyway and Charlotte screamed at the immense weight of his dense body on hers. 

"Why's this couch so lumpy?" He asked and wiggled around to get comfy, which made Charlotte feel even worse. She was screaming and wiggling to get out from under him, but with the box on his head, he couldn't tell what was happening.

"Ray, you're sitting on Charlotte, get off!" She took his hand and yanked him forward, just enough for Charlotte to slide out from under him and take a gasp. God, it felt good to breathe again, however, she wasn't done. To (y/n)'s shock, the young girl shoved Ray across the couch and leapt onto his back.

"Charlotte, what are you—" She was cut off as the small girl started bouncing up and down on her boyfriends back, using her entire body weight to make his spine ache. For such a petite kid, she wasn't afraid to show the man her anger.

"How's that feel, huh? Not so fun when someone sits on you, is it?!" She hissed and tried to make it as uncomfortable as possible for him, but in reality, it was having the opposite effect.

"Actually, this feels pretty good." He admitted and the girl sighed before walking off. That was the last thing he wanted, but there was an upside to his confession. If it felt nice, then he'd be grumpy if she stopped.

"Wait! Come do more!" He whined, making (y/n) giggle and wander over to him. She knew all too well how much he loved having his back massaged and how whiny he got when it stopped.

"No! Get (y/n) to do it!" She grumbled and walked over to the supercomputer where Schwoz had left Schwabbit and Kooschtello's files opened. He'd sloped off when Charlotte was trying to injure Ray and she was way too intrigued to pass up a chance to read about these two.

"Stop whinging, I'm here." The young woman told him and kneeled down on the floor next to him so she could work at the knots in his back. Being a superhero left him tense and she was more than happy to help him relax, especially when it turned him to putty in her hands. He let out a deep groan when she moved over a particularly tight spot and rested his boxed head on the end of the couch. 

"That good?" She asked him in a cheery voice but was disappointed when he didn't respond immediately. Without his confirmation, she didn't know if she was hurting him or not and she just wanted to talk to him. It felt like ages since they just talked. 

"I don't deserve you." Ray's admittance came out of nowhere and shocked her when he suddenly started talking. Of all the things she expected him to say, that wasn't one of them and she couldn't work out what it actually meant. Was it the massage that was sending him loopy or was he suggesting something else? Maybe he felt like he was punching below his weight and he deserved a model or someone who could actually help out in a fight and not get beat in the first five seconds.

"If I could give you more, I would." She smiled sadly and he'd never see the way her eyes lost their spark, but he could hear it and immediately reached out to stop her self-doubting.

"No, you give me more than enough. I'm the one who is undeserving to have you in my life." He rephrased his earlier words and swiftly sat up so he wasn't just throwing stuff over his shoulder.

"You're Captain Man, you can have any girl you want." She told him, wishing her voice didn't sound as weak as it did. No boyfriend wanted to hear his girlfriend's jealousy and hers seemed to be based on nothing. Being his girl was a privilege and she had seen the way all his other girlfriends had been humbled when he chose them to share his life, so she wanted to be like them. Her relationship with Drex had turned ugly because of her feelings and attempts to speak up and she was desperate not to screw this one up too.

"I don't want any girl, I want you. Only you...I'm sorry that you doubt that sometimes." He took her hands into his and brought them to his chest so she could feel his heart beating through his suit. It belonged to her, it always had and he was determined to tell her that.

"Ray...I watched you go out with so many girls and some of them were so special to you, but at the end of it all, you left them or they left you. I don't want to be like them...this is it for me, there's no one else." She told him quietly, briefly checking over her shoulder to make sure Charlotte was still on the computer - she was and it left them alone in their small moment.

"Sweet girl...my sweet girl." He choked up at that. He had spent so many years dreaming about what it would be like to be in a relationship with her, he hadn't noticed how much his flings and flirting had affected her. She'd hidden it well, but on the inside, she had taken it to heart. Like everyone else, she had thought that he wasn't one for commitment and after the rose tint of the first couple of months fell from her gaze and hearing him talk about hot moms, she was starting to think that she was nothing special, just another pulse in his bed to keep him occupied for a while. 

"I don't want anyone else to love you the way I do." (y/n) whispered and bent her head down so it could rest on their conjoined fingers. Ray wanted them to switch places, so he was the one kneeling in front of her like a knight before his princess and he was dying to beg for her forgiveness. He had thought that the relationship would be easy but after so many years of building insecurity, he realised that they would have their ups and downs. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He choked out and pulled her up and into a tight embrace. The dumb box was in the way and it was a little awkward for her to angle her head into the crook of his neck, but even with the sharp metal digging into her cheek, it was so damn comfortable to feel his touch after hours of hurt.

"I promise, hand on my heart, that I've never loved anyone the way I love you and I'll never feel this way with anyone else . I—I spent so long thinking you could never love me, I've just got it in my head that this is one big dream and I'll wake up to find that you've seen that without Captain Man, I'm nothing special and then you'll find some guy who's the perfect romantic." He told her and was kind of glad that the box hid his face away from her because she wasn't able to see how terrified of losing what they had because of him. 

"I've found my perfect guy and I'm not going anywhere. Even if he does look at hot moms." She let the husk of a chuckle and curled her fingers into a loose fist on his chest.

"I'll never look at a mom again if it means you stay." He promised her, willing to walk around with his eyes shut if it meant he got to open them and see her smiling back at him. Some might say he was crazy, but hey, he was in love and he didn't want to lose that.

"Don't be a doofus, doofus. I'm staying as long as you want me." She giggled at his exaggerated promise and threaded their fingers together.

"I want you, always." He whispered with his forehead against the metal where she was resting hers too and if she used her imagination, it was almost like there was no divide at all.

"Always." She returned the sentiment and they both fell into a peaceful silence. They had some problems, but don't all couples? If neither of them wanted to lose what they had, then they were going to keep it for a long time and that was good enough for them.

"I really wanna kiss you right now," Ray grumbled, making her laugh. If he was trapped in a box, she would have readily accepted and it was funny to hear him so moody about it. Her laughter was music to his ears and he knew that they were gonna be just fine. A little rocky at times, but she knew he loved her and he knew she wasn't leaving. Things were good.

"They're here! They're coming! Get ready! They're here!" Schwoz shouted suddenly and came running in from the sprocket. Maybe he had been sending smoke signals, who knows. (y/n) hopped off her boyfriend's lap and the two eagerly awaited the apparent wise men from Schwoz's homeland. According to him, they had all the answers, so they were like genius royalty for the Man Cave team.

"What the hell are you doing?" (y/n) asked her small friend as he started playing what she assumed was traditional music from his home and knelt so he could assume an odd position. Funny way to greet someone, but whatever.

"Animo hah-zu peela yanku schween." He greeted two very strange-looking people as they came down in the tubes, kitted out in funny makeup, hair and robes. 

"Inma poo uka gorgonzola." They bowed their heads politely and Schwoz killed the music as they gracefully came down the steps. 

"Captain Man, (y/n), Charlotte, I would like you to meet Schwabbit and Kooschtello." The handyman introduced his fellow wherever-Schwoz-came from-ians and the girls smiled warmly at them.

"Nice to meet you, I'm sure you've heard much about me." They could hear the smirk in Ray's voice as he put his hands on his hips proudly, making (y/n) roll her eyes.

"Come on, big-head." She guided him to where Schwabbit and Kooschtello were standing and made sure he was facing them correctly. God forbid they got offended because he spoke at the wall and not to their faces.

"Uh...I love your hair." Charlotte complimented the weird woman, who had the bold choice of dark roots, spiky, platinum blonde tips and a streak of purple as her hairdo. It was something to behold.

"Thank you. Would you like it?" To (y/n) and Charlotte's shock/horror, she reached up to her head and pulled it from her scalp, revealing that underneath, she had the same haircut as Schwoz and her counterpart; balding on top and thick, dark hair around the sides and back of her skull.

"Oh, my—-no, no, you keep it, please! We don't want your head to get cold." (y/n) chuckled nervously and the wig was promptly flopped back onto Kooschtello's head, along with a hiss that spooked the girls. Did that make her angry? An angry glare from Schwoz suggested they had, oops.

"Schwoz, Charlotte, you go to Henry's house and bring him here, whether he wants to come or not," Ray instructed them, wanting to waste no time in acting out their plan. He would send (y/n) too since she had a knack for pulling at Henry's heartstrings, but to be honest, he wanted her all to himself.

"'Kay." Charlotte agreed, knowing that this was the time for action and being one of Henry's best friends, she'd be able to peel him off the sofa.

"Schwabbit, Kooschtello. Captain Man and his girlfriend will look after you until I return." Schwoz promised his friends and stepped quite close to them before bending into a ninety-degree bow between them. To make things even weirder, they mysteriously placed their fingertips on his smooth scalp, only releasing him so he could dash up to the tube area with Charlotte.

"Up the tube!" She yelled and they were off, leaving no chance for the couple to say goodbye. It left Ray and (y/n) alone with Schwabbit and Kooschtello, which was going to be fun.

"Well, you're probably interested in my story..." Ray began, deciding that the tale of how he became Captain Man would intrigue them into filling the alone time they had.

"Oh, here we go, hero..." (y/n) sighed with a fond smile and braced herself for the epic story she had heard a million times.

"You see, my dad was an irresponsible scientist and by accident, he made me indestructible. Now, I protect the good citizens of Swellview, who call me, well...you know the name. Uh, Schwabbit? Koosch-puff?" When he got no response, Ray was left in the dark, literally and figuratively. (y/n) sighed as she watch the foreign couple lose interest and begin to explore the Man Cave, particularly the supercomputer.

"Uh, Captain Man?" The young woman tapped him on the shoulder, making the box turn to her, or as near to her as Ray could get without seeing her beautiful face.

"Yeah, sweet girl?" He breathed out when she guided his arms around her waist and pressed herself to him.

"They're not paying attention, but I am." She whispered to him and giggled when the hands on her hips clenched.

"I can't see you, this isn't fair." He whined, wanting to show her how much he loved her and see the sweet faces she made, but Drex had made that impossible. Screw him.

"You don't have to see, just feel me." She purred and he was lost in the softness of her skin as she guided him to the couch and led him into a welcome calmness where he could just hold her, which was enough for them.

~

The calmness didn't last long. Schwabbit and Kooschtello weren't just exploring the Man Cave, they were moving in! 

"Stop it, we don't want your crap!" (y/n) hissed at them as she dashed about the place to try and shove it out of the way. Sadly though, she was outnumbered because when she left his lap, Ray had thought up a drastic way to remove the steel box on his head; bashing it with the elevator door.

"We're back!" Charlotte announced happily as she and Schwoz returned triumphantly. Henry had been a bit tetchy when asked to leave the comfort of his home, so Schwoz had done a number on him and sent him to sleep. His collapsing onto the Man Cave floor and rolling down the steps was just another moment of madness, adding to (y/n)'s panic, Ray's groans of pain as he bashed his skull around and the weirdo's furniture.

"We have Henry." Schwoz announced as the boy slumped at (y/n)'s feet in a fetal position. 'geez, he was gonna wake up with some bruising.

"I can see that." The young woman commented as Charlotte took a look around Schwabbit and Kooschtello's stuff. Some of it was necessary for their experiment, but (y/n) was sure they didn't need it all. I mean, the bed was a bit excessive, making her think they were taking the piss.

"What is all this stuff?" Charlotte asked the genius as he came beside her, ignoring Ray for the time being. She'd get to him in a minute.

"It's for to give Henry the power," Schwoz replied dramatically, making the girls share a sceptically impressed look. They weren't quite sure what that meant, but if these two were wiser than their resident repairman, then Henry would be fine.

"Ow! Dang it! Ow! Dang-blast-it!" Ray moaned as he took the blows from the elevator. The novelty of wearing a big metal cube on his head had long worn off and now, he just needed to get out. He wanted to breathe fresh air again, oh, and kiss (y/n) like he had wanted to all day.

"He's been doing that all day," Schwabbit reported, making Charlotte and Schwoz grimace. It seemed like torture and it showed how despairing he was.

"Not even the pretty girl could entice him to stop," Kooschtello added, making the young woman blush a bit. She had promised Ray all kinds of things to make him pack it in, but even the filthiest things she could think of weren't enough. He wouldn't be able to see them, so what was the point? 

"Ugh, wh-where am I? What happened?" Grumbled Henry as he sat up woozily from the floor, drawing their attention from Ray and his antics to the boy they were intent on helping.

"You died." Schwoz joked, making (y/n) bite her lip a bit to hold in a chuckle. Schwoz could be so blunt sometimes and she had to admit, he had his comedic moments.

"What?!" Henry gasped, thinking the worst had happened to him when he saw the seriousness on the genius' face.

"He's joking." (y/n) clarified and Schwoz laughed since his little prank was over. Man, the old ones are the best.

"We brought you here against your will." He switched back to being stern and watched as Henry's mouth dropped open in disgust. They did what to him?

They wouldn't have time to go into more detail because suddenly, the emergency alarm began to flash as Jasper ran into a bit of bother upstairs. Well, slightly more than a bit, more like a huge, fucking terrifying problem named Drex crashing through the door.

"Oh, shit, emergency!" (y/n) gasped and the four ran over to the computer to check out the store. Ray, Schwabbit and Kooschtello were a little preoccupied, but they'd be filled in shortly.

"We have a situation upstairs in Junk-N-Stuff," Charlotte exclaimed as Schwoz opened up the camera link to the store and Ray came running over.

"Well, what is it?—ah!" He shrieked as he tripped over some of the exotic crap brought in by Schwoz's friends, but quickly recovered. After all, that'd what Captain Man does.

"Look, doof. I know that Ray Manchester owns this place, so where's Captain Man and where's Miss Danger?!" They all gulped as they watched Drex grasp Jasper by his collar and pull him close to his snarling face.

"Fuck me backwards with a wooden spoon, this isn't good," (y/n)'s hands flew to her hairline in worry and Ray's stomach dropped at her scared voice. He didn't like it to hear her like that and it told him that something big was going down.

"What's going on?!" He demanded to know, stumbling blindly to where he thought the supercomputer was, but all his friends did was shush him. They wanted to hear everything Drex was saying, they'd fill Ray in later.

"Where's the Man Cave?!" Drex screamed in Jasper's face, his knuckles turning white from how hard they were clenching around his shirt's material. But Jasper wasn't a coward or a snitch and he had nothing but unwavering loyalty for Ray and his secrets, so he wasn't about to let this thug know anything.

"Uh, I'll tell you where it is!" He said bravely and punched Drex across the face. It was a valiant effort, but his soft, weak hands didn't even make Drex flinch. Perhaps it was best to leave the fighting to the superheroes.

"So, you say you're looking for the Man Cave?" Jasper questioned in a small voice, instantly backing down when the criminal smirked at him. He was no match for Drex in terms of strength, but maybe he could play this game another way.

"Don't tell him!" Charlotte cried, biting her lip anxiously. They couldn't have Drex down here, they hadn't even begun to work on Henry and all of Captain man's secrets would be out. She just had to have faith, which Ray wasn't very good at when it came to trusting Jasper.

"He's gonna tell him! You know he's gonna tell him." He shrugged, thinking that they might as well start packing their bags now. If they left in the next minute, they might get down the road before Drex murdered him and took (y/n) as his hostage girlfriend.

"Raymond, just....shhhh! Come on, Curly, you got this!" (y/n) prayed that Jasper would hold out for a little longer. It was petrifying, she knew that, but he couldn't break under the pressure, that would mean it was over for them.

"Where is the Man Cave?!" Drex ordered the teen to tell him and Jasper could tell that his patience was wearing thin. Think of something smart, think of something smart...

"Uh, it's uh...in Swellview Park!" He stuttered, thinking of somewhere, anywhere that would lead the villain away from his friends. 

"Yes, Jasper!" "Atta boy, Jasp!" Charlotte and Henry clapped their friend's bravery. They knew he wouldn't fail them in the face of danger; he was courageous and loyal, even if he was a bit daft sometimes, the most important thing was he had it where it counted. 

"Where in Swellview Park?" Drex spat out, forcing Jasper to think on his feet again. He had the lie, now he just had to make it believable.

"Uh—uh, at the...p-playground. Under the...Twirly-whirly!" Jasper made up and prayed that Drex would believe him. It was the last place a superhero would pick to be his hideout, but that was the genius behind the lie. Of course, a superhero wouldn't want people poking around their house, it made sense for it to be there, right?

"Twirly-whirly?" Ray scoffed at the thought of having his hideout near a playground. That was so not his style, but he had to hand it to Jasper, he was doing better than he ever thought he would.

"Yes, Raymond, it's a children's ride." (y/n) retorted, throwing the comment over her shoulder before focusing on the monitor again and it seemed that Drex wanted "insurance" for his time spent looking for the Man Cave. 

"All right. You're coming with me." He growled and pulled Jasper out from behind the counter. Oh boy, he wasn't cut out for fieldwork and being manhandled by the city's most dangerous criminal wasn't how he wanted to spend his afternoon. 

"Why?" Jasper cried, not seeing how he could be of any help since he was just the lowly shop assistant. However, to Drex that didn't matter; he knew that anyone in Ray's employment was special and a key to help him get one step closer to his sweet revenge.

"To show me the Twirly-whirly!" Drex grunted and swiftly grabbed the protesting boy in a fireman's lift and took him out the store, screaming and shouting about his cake. Poor Jasp, he always got roped into things.

"Turn it off," Henry told Schwoz, having seen enough for one sitting. Damn Drex, he really got to him, but he couldn't see a way of kicking his ass once and for all.

"This is not good," Ray commented sombrely and his friends were inclined to agree. When Drex found out that Jasper had lied to him, he'd bludgeon the poor kid, possibly to death and that was not good.

"Henry, (y/n)! You gotta stop Drex!" Charlotte looked at the sidekicks, but only one of them was on board with the ass-kicking. 

"I'm up for it, I want to see my foot in his face." The young woman replied coldly, her voice holding no warmth for the man that once broke her so cruelly and had come crashing back into her life to wreak havoc again. 

"I can't!" Henry exclaimed, not seeing how his useless, plain self could even match up to Drex. Sure, he didn't like the idea of (y/n) fighting alone, but he was certain that he wouldn't be much help to her even if he did try.

"You can...if you have the power." Schwoz insisted, once again mentioning the mystical gift that Schwabbit and Kooschtello could bestow on the teen. Apparently, it would be their saving grace, whatever it was.

"What power?" Henry asked, wondering what the hell he was on about. He had no power and couldn't see how he was going to get one. It's not like he could get one like (y/n) had since they all knew had that had needed for him last time, so he was left without hope.

Or was he? A sly look from the little man and his associates said otherwise...

~

"Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa. What is all this stuff?" Henry asked his friends as Schwoz tried to push him down on the lavish couch table. He hadn't been given an explanation for what they were gonna try and do to him and seeing all the wacky, dare he say magical equipment freaked him out.

"This is a South African Bush Lizard." Schwabbit stared at the reptile caged in one of his incubators as Kooschtello stared at the other. Very rarely did they impart such divine wisdom onto a stranger, but some sweet talking from Schwoz had swayed them to try it once and only once.

"And this...is a Black Shag Spider." She cooed in her odd accent, making Ray perk up as he faced the wrong way.

"A Black Shag Spider?! No way! I've always wanted to see one of those. What's it look like?" He whined at how unfair life was and (y/n) gently turned him around so he'd at least be facing the right way. He still couldn't see anything, which was a shame, but it was better than nothing.

"Uh, it's black and shaggy," Charlotte answered, basically saying what she was seeing. It wasn't very imaginative, but technically, it was an accurate description and probably why it was called a Black Shag Spider.

"It's a fucking huge spider, Ray. With legs and fangs and...things." His girlfriend added, praying that the glass lid on the arachnid's chamber was secure.

"Thank you." The superhero took what he could get and imagined what they were seeing. Charlotte probably just saw another bullshit thing she had to work with for her job and (y/n) was most likely seeing Shelob or some shit.

"So for me to get a superpower, I have to get bitten by some crazy, foreign lizard and a bush spider?" Henry asked the experts, not liking the sound of either of those. But thankfully (or not thankfully), Schwoz and Schwabbit laughed at his wrong idea, telling him that he was way off the mark. Kooschtello hissed but they just guessed that it was her thing and asked no questions.

"Oh, no, no, no. You see, when you combine their venoms and heat the mixture, it turns into a vapour and then you breathe it in." Schwoz explained, leaving out all the sciencey bits so Henry would understand him.

"I have to breath in venom vapour?" The boy asked reluctantly. Wouldn't venom vapour be just as poisonous as getting bitten? He trusted Schwoz, but this could just be another one of his touch-and-go experiments where everything could go wrong.

"Yah! It will accelerate your reflexes and sharpen your hand-eye and foot-eye coordination." Schwoz smiled, thinking it would be the perfect superpower for the plucky boy.

"So, you're saying that Henry will be able to move faster?" Charlotte asked, putting things much more simply since Henry wasn't always as sharp as she was. He was the one getting the power, so it made sense to tone it down for him.

"Yah, if you want to say it like a dummy." The genius rolled his eyes. Saying it like that really cramped his style. All he had going for him was his crazy brain and he loved showing it off.

"You guys, this seems really weird and kinda dangerous." Henry sighed, not liking the sound of it at all. He'd rather go through the densitiser again than be their guinea pig. 

"Yeah, yeah, I got fried and now you're being poisoned, so lie down and welcome to the club," (y/n) dismissed his worry and she and Charlotte forced the boy's shoulders down as Ray began to whack his box against a table. He wanted to see things again, he really missed being able to see people, objects, anything but.

"You'd think I'd give up." He said to no one in particular as he panted from the effort. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't budge. They needed that damn electronic key and to get it, they'd have to go through Drex...

~

"Ko-vah shishito karvoo siracha chorizo moo-saka...schnot!" Schwabbit and Kooschtello chanted as Schwoz held a mask over Henry's face. This was one of the tensest and weirdest things (y/n) had ever seen and she and Charlotte stood by nervously as the venom solution began to bubble and boil.

"Boba-looooooooooooo!...Remove the mask." Schwabbit told Schwoz, and they turned the lights back on. Well, it was done, they just had to see if it had worked.

'Well, did it work?" Ray asked from the back of the Man Cave. He had been wandering around again and had his back turned to them, but it was the burning question.

"Yeah, does Henry have accelerated speed?" (y/n) asked the odd couple with a worried voice. If Henry was hurt from this, they had truly screwed up and they would have no hope of stopping Drex.

"We will not know until the boy awakens," Schwabbit answered her, making them all impatient. Henry could take hours to wake up and they didn't have many hours to spare.

"Well, how do we awaken him?" Charlotte asked the shamanistic two, who, as always, had a solution. To be fair, it was nice having them around, especially when they were being helpful.

"This way...Wake up, wake up, wake up! Hey! Hey! Hey! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" Schwabbit turned from peaceful to a shrill psychopath in less than a second, but his screaming did the job. Henry woke up with a start and hopped off the bed as his ears rang painfully. Geez, talk about giving someone a heart attack.

"Hello? Am I in the bathroom?" Ray asked the wall, having completely lost his bearings after all the commotion.

"No, don't pee anywhere!" Yelled (y/n) as she quickly looked in his direction. God, they needed to test Henry and fast.

"Henry, go over there and look closely as the elevator button," Schwoz told him, which was a strangely mundane thing to ask the kid, but he did it anyway.

"Ugh, where's the toilet?" Ray grumbled, feeling around for a tap or shower head that would tell him he was in the right place. 

"Ray, I swear if you pee there, I will kill you!" The young woman observing him shouted, trying to keep an eye on him and Henry at the same time. Honestly, it was like being the parent of two rambunctious toddlers sometimes.

"What are you gonna do?" Charlotte asked Schwoz, ignoring Ray and his confusion. She was sure that (y/n) could handle him and keep the place mess-free...hopefully.

"This!" Schwoz yanked a blue cloth off of his table to reveal that he had a bunch of small missiles ready to go. Charlotte and (y/n) looked at him like he was crazy, but said nothing to warn Henry of what was about to happen. They just had to pray that his superpower would save him.

"Okay, I'm looking at the elevator button, but I'm not sure why." The boy announced, completely unaware of what was happening behind him.

"Henry!" Schwoz yelled and pressed the go button on his controller, sending a missile straight for Henry. However, to everyone's amazement, before it could even touch his skin, he ducked so fast that if anyone blinked they would have missed it. 

"Wow!" Charlotte gasped in delight, delighted at the results. That missed had been going at one hundred miles an hour or something and her friend had dodged it with ease. Awesome.

"See how fast he moves?" Schwoz exclaimed gleefully, overjoyed that Schwabbit and Kooschtello's mystic power had was now Henry's superpower. God, he loved the intelligence of his people.

"Schwoz, why'd you just—-" Henry's confusion had to end quickly as several more missiles rocketed towards him, but the new and improved Henry dodged them all. He was even able to grab one mid-air before it skewered his face, making them all smile in excitement.

"Whoaaaa. H-how'd I..." The boy gasped, not being able to comprehend how he was able to move like lightning. 

"It's your new power!" Charlotte squealed, clapping her hands together as she beamed at her friend.

"You have super fast reflexes!" Schwoz added to her excitement, proud to have been part of the team that upgraded Captain Man's fighting team. (y/n) walked up to Henry from behind him and grinned at the boy, happy to see him smile again.

"You have hyper-motility to go with Ray's indestructibility and my super-regeneration! I'm totally geeking out about it!" She laughed and her infectious smile worked its way to Henry.

"This is amazing." He breathed out and looked to Schwabbit and Kooschtello, the ones who made it all happen.

"Yes. And also...you owe us two hundred and fifty dollars." The woman frowned, wanting her money now that their work was finished. They didn't do it for nothing, why would they? Even the ancient secret power of Schwoz's people could be bought for the right price, which was two hundred and fifty dollars.

"All right, here's your money." (y/n) rolled her eyes at their impatience and handed the crisp bills to the couple to stop their complaining. Ray would go mental at the price when she told him later, but they could just take it out of their yearly budget.

"Wait, where's Drex and Jasper?" Henry suddenly remembered the danger his friend was in and Charlotte scrambled to locate the curly-haired boy on her PearPad. Last time they'd heard, Jasper was lying his ass off to the thug about Twirly-whirlies, but that was half an hour ago. Anything could have happened since then.

"Uh...still at Swellview Park on or near the playground," Charlotte reported, getting the closest coordinates she could. It was good enough, it's not like you could miss Drex's stupid face, bandana and dark clothes, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

"The Twirly-whirly." (y/n) confirmed and took out her gum tube, smiling when she saw that she wasn't the only one gearing up for a fight.

"Okay, give it to me," Henry told Charlotte and she returned him the tube he had thrown to her earlier so he could throw back a gumball into his mouth. 

"Stand back." The boy told their spectators and the sidekicks blew their gum proudly, once again becoming Captain Man's fearless companions, only this time, they had a new trick up their sleeve.

"All right, Schwoz, you fly us in the Man Copter, Charlotte, you look after Ray until we get back!" (y/n) told the young girl as she and Henry dashed to a tube. If Schwoz was coming with them, they'd have to share, but they didn't mind.

"Aye. Thank you, Schwabbit and Kooschtello. Have a safe trip home!" Schwoz did his funny little bow for them to show his deep gratitude and sprinted up the steps to the other tube.

"When did you get so tall?" (y/n) asked Henry as they platonically wrapped their arms around each other once the tubes came down. He used to be so small and now, he was shooting past her head. Where had that cute little bean from two years ago gone? 

"Up the tube!" Henry laughed at the woman's question and they blasted off before he could answer her. He wasn't the same boy he was when he had met her because now, he was a superhero, through and through.

~Swellview Park~

"Twenty-three and twenty-four and...' Jasper had been perfecting the art of taking the piss as he spun the Twirly-whirly around twenty-five times to "unlock the Man Cave entrance". It was a good lie and had kept him alive and unharmed for at least twenty minutes. Slow turns and agonisingly poor counting had done the trick, but he was getting close to the end now and he needed backup, like now.

"Hey, that was twenty-five!" Drex hissed as he swore that Jasper was mistaken. He was by no means a patient man and was at the end of his tether with this nincompoop, who was fooling him so brilliantly.

"Are you sure? Maybe I should just, um...start over. One..." Jasper suggested, hoping that he could trick Drex again, but it wasn't very likely.

"I don't like you!" The thug growled and tugged him away from the playground ride. This kid was infuriating and he was debating whether putting up with incompetency was worth trying to find the Man Cave quicker.

"But I'm so friendly!" Jasper gasped, not liking how ugly the situation was turning. They were in front of children, for god's sake, did he really have to be so violent?

"And I don't think the Man Cave's anywhere near here. I think you've been lying to me!" Drex seethed, making Jasper gulp. Okay, his luck was up and Drex was so close to pummelling his face. Where were Henry and (y/n)?!

"No, I wouldn't lie. I love the truth! I consider the truth my girlfriend and we are exclusive." Jasper rambled as the sidekicks descended onto the scene from the Man Copter and watched with anger as they saw their friend shake in fear.

"You think you're funny?" Drex shook him by the collar, not liking the way the boy was using stupid metaphors to outwit him. 

"No, when I tell jokes, nobody laughs except for my grandma and she doesn't even know who she is anymore!" Jasper wailed, his eyes screwed tightly shut, so he didn't see Henry and (y/n) standing unimpressed behind the villain holding him captive. 

"Well, after I rattle your brain with this, you're not gonna know who you are." Drex threatened the terrified boy and raised his fist to punch him. However, (y/n) wasn't about to see Curly hurt and caught it from behind so she could twist his arm around to make him face her.

"Hey, cupcake." She spat and used all her strength to land a harsh blow across his cheekbone, sending the man to the floor. Damn, that felt good, especially when she sensed her bruised knuckles tingling back to normality. It sure was amazing to be a superhero.

"Whoa, Miss Danger, you just knocked down Drex!" Jasper gasped in amazement, making the woman and Henry smirk at each other.

"I know." She replied happily and her ex-boyfriend saw red when he realised just who had dared to lay a hand on him. He wouldn't have her disrespect him so utterly and would break her into her place. She didn't have Captain Man to save her, but she did have Kid Danger.

"Uh-oh, he's getting back up." Jasper gulped as Drex scrambled to his feet and Henry knew that this was no place for non-superheroes.

"Yeah, you might wanna run." He told his best friend, who didn't need to be told twice. They could handle this shit from here, he'd just be in the way.

"On it!" Jasper turned around and legged it to a safe distance where he could watch Drex get his ass handed to him without being an unwilling participant.

"Well..." Drex looked the smirking supers up and down with a disdainful eye now that they were alone and clenched his teeth when they showed no signs of fear. 

"Well..." (y/n) returned the greeting coldly, her face emotionless and neutral, but her eyes were full of hate for the man who thought he could own her.

"Where's your "big brother", Captain Man?" The villain mocked Henry with an irritating voice, but the boy left it to his friend to reply. She knew how to cut Drex where it would sting and she was more than happy to watch him bleed.

"Oh, you mean my BOYFRIEND. The one whom I'll be going home to tonight and sleeping next to because he's my BOYFRIEND. Y'know, he's a lot better than you in many ways, bigger too if you get what I mean and I love him so damn much because he's my BOYFRIEND!" She smirked victoriously at the way Drex's eyes burned with rage and jealousy when she enunciated the sweet connection between her and Ray. He let out a small growl when she and Henry fist-bumped their success and giggled to each other about how mad he was. Sure, they were poking the bear, but it was worth it.

"Look, it's Kid Danger and Miss Danger and that mean guy again!" A little girl next to Jasper exclaimed, pointing in fear to the showdown that was happening in front of her.

"Someone call the police!" Jasper yelled to the kids, but like typical modern youths, they simply whipped out their PearPhones and began to film the whole thing.

"I'm gonna mop this grass with you, boy. And then I'm gonna make you watch when I break Miss Danger back into a good, little girl." Drex snapped at them, but it wasn't an effective threat.

"You don't mop grass...stupid." Henry insulted the criminal, egging (y/n) on so they could get Drex to make a move.

"And sorry, but this super-healing chick doesn't break...asshole." She hissed and got ready to step back as the thug reached his breaking point. It was crucial that Henry had the space to use his new power and she wasn't keen on foolishly exhausting hers.

"That's it!" Drex cried and (y/n) hopped backwards as he swung at Henry, who expertly ducked out of the way. He was like lightning and the man's fists just attacked the air above his head.

"Not even close." The boy gloated at Drex, who looked dumbfounded with the boy's newfound speed. He didn't like the way he was smirking and tried a few more jabs, all of which were dodged by Henry.

"Whoa, can't touch this." (y/n) chuckled at how he was nothing but a blur and stood back to watch the show. It felt so good to see Drex outmatched and she couldn't wait to take her revenge on him.

"Here come the cops!" Jasper pointed to two approaching police officers, who dashed to the superheroine's side, only to grow nervous when they saw who was fighting who.

"It's Drex!" One cried and they both ran off and jumped over a wall for safety. No wonder so many criminals called Swellview home with a police force like that, but thankfully, the city had Captain Man and his associates to fight in their place.

"Swellview Police, happy to help, my ass." (y/n) rolled her eyes as Jasper gawped at the cops' cowardice. Not even a taser to help, typical.

"Kid...I'm gonna punch and kick you ten-thousand times!" Drex shouted in Henry's face, but he remained calm and collected, despite the threat that would send most people running for the hills.

"Cool, I'll help you keep count. Ready, set go!" He remarked coolly and began to duck and weave through every attempt to maim him.

"Zero, zero...still zero. Here's my face...oh!" Henry dealt a swift blow to his enemy's abdomen, making him double over in pain. The kids watching were horrified to see such violence but were too enthralled to look away.

"Ready when you are," Henry told Drex and they started fighting again, well, Drex started punching the air again. Henry, however, was much more deadly; he elbowed Drex in the face, twisted his arm around his back, forced him into the climbing frame and kicked his butt for good measure.

"Yeah, Kid Danger, beat his ass!" Miss Danger applauded the teen as he clambered up the main frame and dashed across the bridge. The crowd gasped when Drex was able to grab his ankle through the yellow bars and made him trip up, but he was able to recover quickly for their brawl on the bridge. Henry avoided everything thrown at him and Drex was pushed down the slide by a swift punch to the teeth, followed by a shove backwards. He was making it look easy.

"How'd you get to be so fast?" Drex demanded to know as Henry sprinted across the Whirly-twirly so they could edge around it and wait for whoever would strike first.

"That's for us to know and you to shut the hell up." (y/n) snapped as she kept the kids back and stood waiting for Henry to need any help, not that he did. He had this perfectly under control, especially when Drex leapt onto the spinning ride and he used its velocity to harshly whack the thug's nose.

Forcing Drex to his feet, Henry held the disoriented man by his neck and rapidly punched him in the face until his hand was a red and blue streak in the air. The repeated hits were too much for even a master fighter like Drex to handle and he collapsed on the floor, alive but completely battered. Henry looked at his hands in disbelief and looked up to see (y/n) looking at the see-saw and mulling over an idea in her head.

"You may, Miss Danger." He told her with an all-knowing smirk and she breathed out a laugh when she realised that he could see what she was planning. She turned on her heel and stomped over Drex's body, making sure the pointed edge of her boot dug into his stomach with all her weight. He managed to get on one knee and as he did, she balanced herself on the see-saw and raised the left side, bashing the red seat across his face. 

Seeing that (y/n) had left him the perfect opening, Henry jogged over to the zip line and hurtled through the air before kicking Drex down again. By now, the kids and a few adults were applauding the superheroes' performance, but the fight wasn't over yet. Drex still had some energy left in him and attempted to roundhouse kick Henry twice, but the teen just grabbed his leg and tipped him off balance. It probably would've been smart to stay on the floor, but the psychopath didn't know how to accept defeat. He sloppily swung at Henry with each fist, only to have his arms twisted behind his back, making him shriek in pain as his bones crunched. 

A rough headbutt made Drex's vision go blurry, giving Kid Danger the chance to roll him backwards and onto the ground, where Miss Danger was waiting for him. A sharp kick to the face left him dumb and drooling and the young woman was satisfied to see her foot collide with his cheek. 

"He's all yours, kid." She told Henry, who had taken a seat on a park bench and dragged the man up so she could shove him over his knee. "Wow, I hope no one gets this on video and sends it to the news..." He announced loudly, prompting every kid watching to take out their phones. 

"Spanky, spanky, spank your butt, doo dah, doo dah. Spanky, spanky spank your butt, oh dah doo dah day!" Henry took great pleasure in humiliating Drex like he had done to him in Schneider's Bakery and with the support of the crowd, he was more than happy to drag it out for just a little longer.

~In the Man Cave~

"Oh my god, open it, open it, open it!" (y/n) squealed as Schwoz was handed the electronic key that Henry had confiscated from Drex. They had hauled his ass back to the Man Cave and with a little assistance from a particularly gorgeous invention from their favourite genius, he had been immobilised. All they had to do now was free Ray from the prison that had been inflicted on him.

"Come on...hurry!" Ray grumbled impatiently as Schwoz stuck the fob to the top of the box and twisted it until it illuminated green. With the magnetic seal, Ray was free to lift that dumb thing off his head and grinned brightly when he saw his home for the first time in hours.

"I'm oka—" He started, but was cut off by (y/n) launching herself into his arms and placing her lips on his. It wasn't an unwelcome interruption and he gladly melted into the kiss with a satisfied sigh. Oh, how he had missed that honey taste and his hands found their home around her waist and in her hair as their lips moved in time with each other.

"Wooo!" "Yeah, buddy!" Schwoz, Henry, Charlotte and Jasper applauded and cheered at the happy reunion, overjoyed to see the idiots in love again. They would never stop poking fun at them for how gross they were together, but this time, they'd make an exception, because they were unbelievably sweet.

"Wow. I'm so happy to see my girl again." Ray cooed at (y/n) once they parted and she blushed from his words and the way their friends ooo'ed and awwed. She could say the same for him, she hadn't realised how addicted she was to his kisses and his smile until she was deprived of them.

"I love you, handsome." She whispered, letting her forehead rest against his, only this time, there was no cold metal to separate them. It felt so much better to have the soft skin of his cheeks under her fingertips and she would never take it for granted again.

"I love you too, sweet girl." He sighed against her lips as they met again for a brief kiss until a thought suddenly snapped into Ray's mind. He didn't want to ruin the moment, but he just had to know.

"Wait...what happened to Drex?" He looked to his friends as his girl shyly pulled back and settled into his lap. Their smirks were so embarrassing.

"Oh, Henry and (y/n) brought him here," Charlotte replied, freaking Ray out at the thought of his sidekicks leading their nemesis to the one place where they didn't want him. 

"Wha—Drex is here?!" He gasped, glancing between the woman on his knee and the relaxed boy in front of him. He abruptly stood up and whipped around to be greeted with a disturbingly strange sight. Ray yelped at Drex's pained expression, but he was paralysed by some weird harness restraint thing.

"Is he—uh..." Ray cautiously walked up to his former sidekick and braced himself for a jump scare or something.

"He's totally fine," Charlotte told him, feeling completely chill with the situation. Drex was basically a big vegetable right now and as harmless as a fly.

"He just can't move," Jasper added, making Ray turn around as (y/n) and Henry got up to observe the man they worked together to defeat. It was rewarding to see him like this, useless, defenceless, completely harmless, just like they wanted him to be. Like this, he could cause them any problems.

"Or talk, or think, or kick, or punch, or pee...I hope." Henry elaborated, grimacing slightly at the thought of Drex regularly peeing all over their floors. Eh, that probably wouldn't happen.

"Pretty neat, right?" The young woman snuggled up to his side and laced their fingers together, smiling proudly at her and Henry's success.

"Well, how did you, uh—" Ray gestured to the villain's lifeless body, not even knowing how to begin describing what he was looking at.

"I used this. You blast a person with a beam from this and it's like pressing pause on his brain." Schwoz explained his cool little gadget to his boss and he was so glad that he had created it on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

"Yeah, he's fine. He's just useless and can't do anything, like the Kardashians." (y/n) finished, making everyone giggle and gaze at their work. A job well done.

"This just in Captain Man's sidekicks, Kid Danger and Miss Danger..." Trent Overrunder's voice suddenly piped up from the computer, drawing Jasper's focus away from the man who nearly beat him up in the playground. 

"Hey, look! Henry and (y/n) are on the news!" He exclaimed and they all wandered over to see what was being said about them. God, it was nice to be recognised.

"And thanks to Kid Danger's new and unexplained lightning speed, he and Miss Danger were able to completely frustrate and enrage Drex, who we all hate." Ray smiled proudly at his sidekicks as they bashfully watched the clips of them beating Drex to the ground. Wow, his girl was hot when she threw fists,

"Spank your butt all day, spank your but all night! Spank your butt 'til it's red and sore, wow I hate your face!" They laughed along to the clip and all turned around to join in with its singing. 

"Spanky, spanky, spank your butt, doo dah, doo dah. Spanky, spanky spank your butt, oh dah doo dah day! Spank your butt all day, spank your but all night! Spank your butt 'til it's red and sore, wow I hate your face!" They chanted in Drex's face. He couldn't hear them or see them, but it was gratifying nonetheless and the second-best way to celebrate.

"Miss Danger..." Ray slid an arm around the young woman's waist as she smiled mockingly at her ex-boyfriend. She turned to him with a teasing smirk and mirthful eyes, her fingers trailing up his chest.

"Yes, Captain Man?" She looked up at him through her lashes, making him smirk as he bent down to pull her lips back to his. She smiled into the kiss and threaded her fingers through his groomed, chocolate hair, enjoying the way the world was drowned out by him; the feel of him against her, the scent of his cologne surrounding her, the taste of mint and bubblegum on her tongue, all of it told her she had him, just like he had her.

Yeah, this was the best way to celebrate and they were ready to party all night long.

[wainswright]

If I was trying to convey a sense of media literacy to a child, I'd ask them about the games they were playing (especially if there was some kinda chat) and books they were reading and cross reference real facts with the details they found interesting until they were 12 or so. (I think I could be seen as overbearing here or at least they'd have the skill for it by this point to not require active attention.) I'd see how many misconceptions or contradictions they could catch.

[itstimeforstarwars]

I am reading the Family Dynamics and I am of the opinion that it is my best work.

[batshikns]

when i think of Chuuya, I can't decide if I think of the elegant, lovely(?), dangerous, sharp mafia executive or the (tiny) himbo who wears baseball caps and baggy tank tops while sharpening rock into a dagger

[foobars-cool-car]

i’m sorry i just think the depiction of Stupidity in power is just a little cathartic to see i guess

[brokenmagxc]

x. psa artie needs more cop friends

[tonycries]

To Tame A Monster - G.S.

Synopsis. Gojo Satoru, the most dangerous underground fighter in all of Japan - and the…hottest, too. You, the cute nurse that takes care of him, and totally not his favorite prize, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! nurse! reader, underground fighter! Gojo, scarred Gojo, he wears a muzzIe, slight vioIence, he’s a little (very) ínsane, muscular Gojo, manhandIing, full neIsons, semi-public, thigh grínding, edging, Gojo goes FÉRAL, tummy buIges, creampíes, face-sítting (fem rec.), cúmplay, BIIIG stretches, running from it, making it fit, HEADLOCKS, chokíng, fighting talk, squírting, dúmbifícation, víbrators, marks (on him), L bómbs, Sukuna cameos, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.0k

A/N. Happy 100 chapters on AO3!! Here’s a lil’ something for my hubby <3

They say that Gojo Satoru could take down the strongest of fighters with only six moves.

Audiences adored him, opponents insisted that the man wasn’t even human. And it was well known around these parts that one had to be brave enough that it inched into stupidity to ever even think about challenging him. 

Hell, they’ve had to muzzle him in thick leather just to give his opponents even the briefest advantage. 

Some trembled in fear at the very mention of his name - peering ‘round, making sure they wouldn’t catch a glimpse of those haunting sapphire eyes, or those scarred fists that left no evidence. No witnesses. Others scoffed at the exaggerations of what were obviously little more than sketchy underground scraps. A publicity stunt, surely.

That is, until they saw him.

And you have, too.

With the nature of your job, you had to constantly be present after rounds to tend to bruises, scratches and - if Gojo was involved -  broken bones, after all. 

Only…you were here for him.

“OH! King of Curses down- Six Eyes knees him in the ribs so hard that I’m sure you could hear it, ladies and gentleman! Is he the one who’ll take the Shinjuku Showdown grand prize tonight?!” 

You’re grimacing at both the booming volume of the eager commentator, and the cracking slam of flesh-on-flesh. Having your special nurse’s position smack-dab on the first row meant that you could see n’ hear everything. 

Everything. 

From the roaring cheers of the bustling crowd on their feet, to the way that Gojo was gritting through his dark Stygian muzzle and grinning. Wild. Gorgeous.

Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily - despite the way the entire underworld had his name in their mouths, the one thing nobody ever disagreed on was how…hot Gojo Satoru was. 

A devil masquerading like an angel. All curtains of silky, sweat-slicked white hair, and muscles for daaaays. His skin-tight t-shirt was hanging off of him in nothing but rings of tatters, showing off a snowy happy trail that makes you gulp. Milky skin glistening in the beating stadium lighting, all decorated in as much battle-won scars as sultry, sultry veins. 

Gojo’s towering shadow falls right in front of where you were gawking up at him, and fuck- he makes a big show of letting the rest of his shirt riiiip—! with only a mere tug. 

Well, there was a reason he was your favorite patient.

And you swear he was so close that you could practically taste the scorching iron dripping between his lips, lacquering his pearly whites with a thin film. All red and raw when he turns to you and winks–

“HOLY SHIT! The King makes a comeback- he’s still on his feet! And he’s swinging wide at our monster Six Eyes.”

The thundering, thick stadium air simmers a few degrees tenser as Ryomen Sukuna crashes his meaty, closed fist right into the other’s right cheekbone. Shocked inhales ring out all around you - because if Gojo was the monster of underground fighting, then Sukuna was the curse.

The only fighter in history to ever get a solid few knocks on the other. Both massive.

And if this was anyone else, the sheer force would have made them pass out right then and there. If this was anyone else, then they wouldn’t be snickering-

“Cute.” Gojo’s deep sing-song voice is cold. Seething. Just barely audible enough that your buzzing eardrums can make out. He throws one arm over the stretchy fighting ring ropes, “But I gotta lady ta impress.”

Crimson eyes flicker to you for nothing but a split-second, but it was long enough for the other man to grow rigid. On edge for the first time.

Smugly, Sukuna spits right into Gojo’s face. “Heh- Hell yeah, that chick’ll be impressed in the locker rooms by a real winner later. Me.”

Just a word about you is all it takes.

A breathless gasp departs from your lips as something in Gojo grows…different.

Without another word, he’s drifting over a hand to one of the bulky bands wrapped firmly around his wrists. Unlatching them. So often mistaken for somewhat of a fashion statement, but after so long spent in fighting company, you knew what they really were.

They were weights. Yet another disadvantage. 

And they crack the ground as they fall.

“Weights? Weights?! OH- Gojo headbutts! The King of Curse’s is down-” He’s bleeding and accomplished, every trace of humor wiped. Every degree of a smirk clenched into a steely scowl, and suddenly you’re feeling that perhaps those rumors about him being superhuman are true. Perhaps. “SHIT! He snaps back with an elbow strike-”

Gojo’s big, beefy biceps tense and flex as he curls it menacingly around Sukuna’s throat into a fucking headlock - and your thighs clench.

“You- fucking-” He chokes out past the sculptured harness, cushioned palms coming to slam down on Gojo’s forearm. “For- for some girl-”

Tightening, “What was that~?”

“The King misses- oh, he’s in some real trouble now! Place your bets, you greedy watchers, there’s a reason they call Six Eyes ‘The Strongest’.”

And you knew that underground fights had no rules other than attempt not to die - or, at the very least, try not to make a mess when you do. It’s hard to get stains out of the felt. But Sukuna’s vein-popped face was going purple now, and Gojo was blank-featured through it all. 

Barely even flinching as his opponent grapples a hand into his ridged obliques, lunging and lunging. And yet, the strongest doesn’t even flinch. 

Doesn’t even notice, it seems.

His ghostly cerulean eyes drift to you, seated on the edge of your chair, and he slams a knee into Sukuna’s rugged face. Letting the man drop onto the frictional ground with a resounding thud! - before his fists continue. 

Once. Twice. Clawing at his throat-

“FUCK- CALL THE MEDICS. SIX EYES IS MAKING A SLAUGHTER-SCENE–!”

And no one needed to draw the count, for fear of getting near. Why would they risk death incarnate?

Continuing and continuing until Yaga barks at four- five other referees to even get Gojo to budge. They only just manage to throw a few arms ‘round his powerful ones, and pull him far back enough to giggle down at the carnage he’s created.

Voice octaves higher. Crazed. “Don’t you talk about my lady, ya hear?”

Yaga, as Gojo’s burly coach and former champion, is the one that dares break his harrowing eye-contact to shake him into a stand. Ordering the organizers to get the awards ceremony done as swiftly as possible lest they wanted one of their top-earning fighters down for the count permanently. 

“S-Six Eyes is the champion of Shinjuku Showdown! And in LESS than his signature six moves- oh what a fight it was! One for the books, folks!”

Of course, Six Eyes is declared the winner.

And as Gojo is handed a glinting winner’s banner - dominant arm being thrust in the air - you watch as Sukuna’s barely half-conscious firm slurs out a ferocious, “Rematch. T-tomorrow.”

Cash. A shoddy belt. Champagne.

Tens upon hundreds of reporters and photographers scramble and keen to get the most-selling shots of him. The glare of the flashing lights illuminating him into some sort of other-worldly figure. 

A fighter so dangerous that they claim he hides six eyes. And yet, they only remain on you.

Though, it’s not as if you’re any better - you can’t look away. 

He stands tall, proud. Button nose overspilling with a wisp of cherry-red, perspiration-dampened shorts clinging onto thick thighs and showing you a pretty tuft of white in a way that was unintentionally sexy. Gojo’s leathery mask now dangles haphazardly to show off such a wicked grin.

And Gojo points. Right at you. In front of everyone. 

“Later,” he’s mouthing, whilst interviewers scream for a quote. 

Oh…

.

.

.

“Fuh-fuuuck, Toru–!” Your mouth floods with sheer bucketloads of drool through each wailing whine n’ whimper, back arched like such a slut into Gojo’s bumpy, Herculean front- though, what else could you have expected when the great Gojo Satoru himself accompanied you to your dingy clinic above the fighting ring?

Ready for his real prize of the night.

And lo and behold, bandages and rubbing alcohol forgotten, you’re finding yourself draped right over his lap so prettily; struggling to close your jittery legs ‘round his huge, meaty thighs. 

The fringes of your teeth nip right along Gojo’s plush, scarred deltoids once he tugs on your nurse’s outfit and clings onto a good handful of your ass, draaaagging you to grind all over his quadriceps. Dribbling out a fresh line of candied slick that smears on top of every dip and curve of his bulging muscles.

Your drenched panties catch onto his velvety boxing shorts and you have to hold back a tiny sob. With a deep inhale of his musky cologne, you murmur, “T-Toru, I wan’ you ngh- so bad, y’know?”

“Awww, how cute~” He’s crooning from above,muzzle still on. The pointed curve of his nose tickling your throbbing pulse. Dangerous. Gojo breathes in your sweet scent until it’s all he can smell, “But yer gonna get us caught, mama.”

And he’s so mean.

He fought mean, and he teases you even meaner.

You’re frowning, kiss-swollen lips down-turning into a pout once the sensory pads of his stern digits rover up to your cheeks and smush them together. Crashing your jutted mouth into his frosty mask–

“C’mon now, gotta- gotta be quiet.” Gojo groans at the way you’re getting ever-more soaked when he’s toying with you like this. Lazily, he drops his muzzle to let his plump, bubblegum-pink lips tickle down your own, “Suck on my tongue, there- you can do better.”

So filthy.

Huffing out, your further unfastened jaw basically floods with the damp rivulets of saliva that just kept on watering out of you. When it rained, it poured - and Gojo finds himself smirking at the slop. “Yeah- yeahyeah, you got it. Theeere’s a good girl.”

Weepy pussy positively throbbing at the scratchy texture of his tongue like candy, you couldn’t help but let your fuzzy mind wonder how it would feel inside-

“Oi, nasty girl.” Your pitchy yelp fills the paper-thin walls as Gojo gifts the right of your ass with a rude spank, and then one more just to hear you make that cute noise again. Gruffing out, “Can feel ya getting wetter on top of me. S’like a damn waterpark.”

Before you have the time to even catch your breath, he slouches back sensually to watch you - letting your thin patient bed ring out with an ancient creak! 

And Gojo stares at you lecherously- oh, he was devouring you with his heavily half-lidded gaze. 

The way you’re pouring out syrupy sap with every urgent back n’ forth of your hips, the way all he has to do is hook a thumb past your gluey stuck panties to watch you pulse and quiver. 

Hazy, summer blue peripherals roaming all over your needy expression for a split-second before he’s tap-tap-tapping the doughy mound of his heel on the tile floor. Bouncing you with every motioned lurch, your puffed-up clit catches on one of his zig-zagging veins and you squeal.

Oh? Speeding up, you’re struggling desperately at his whims. One hand grappling onto Gojo’s dimpled back, and the other clawing at the starchy bedspread, no matter how much you were trying to regulate the tempo - he would just speed up more. 

And more. And more. 

Over and over he’s lurching just a few carnal inches off of your bedsprings to chase your sensitive nub. Reeling you down - hard - with a hand stuck to you like adhesive, to pap! against his thigh, letting white-hot bliss spark all that way from your pressurized clit and up your clammy spine.

“F-fuck!” You’re babbling away, fingers interlocking with the soft creamy curls at his nape. Clawing. “Toru– k-keep that up and I won’t…”

Gojo perks his calloused thumb to swivel over your sloshing mess and promptly plugs up your unfastened lips, muffling you. “Shhh shh sh- Wouldn’t wan’ any of those fucks to hear those pretty noises, my girl.”

He was brutal.

Your lower tummy was tumbling and spinning and doing gymnastics you didn’t even think existed. And it was times like this that the strongest from all those headlines peaked his head through. 

Swirling your tongue around his plummy fingerpad, he tasted so much like caramel salt that made your legs grow weaker. Cadence springing to jerky. To oversensitive. “P-please- ngh!”

“Now, what was that pretty lil- hey now, c’mere.” Your lungs cave with a soft ‘please’ as soon as an engulfing, bruised hand crowns your sweat-oiled scalp and holds you still. Gojo doesn’t even have to try, and yet he’s showing off a few sexy flexes of his biceps just for you to ogle at. 

Rutting his jerky leg up into you until your head throws back, he can’t help but leave a sweet, innocent peck right there on the tender spot of your throat. “Don’t run. Don’t run from me.”

Another wet kiss near your slobbery maw, and yet another swat of his thickly tipped fingers right over the slivery slope of your pussy. The sharp sting was just enough to get your glassy eyes to focus on him, “Yeah? Look at me- gimme a lil’ kiss, mama.”

Oh, he always was such a ruthless opponent. 

Because as soon as your spit-glossed lips are crawling towards his, Gojo’s prying them open and spitting inside with a soft coo. Watching as the treacly wad of splashing syrup slides allll the way to puddle the back of your throat. 

“T-tease.”

“I think you mean…champion.” He hunches you over until you’re slipping n’ sliding all down the ridged rollercoaster of his abs. The fragile points of your hardened nipples massaging into his sensual scars and driving you mad. Sweaty and needy. Boring dead-on into your half-shuttered heart eyes, “Now, tell me what you want.” He hums, still tugging on your bloated outer cunt, watching you gasp. “Tell me what’s got this lady here so fuckin’ wet.”

Your words choke with every viscid tear - tears of bliss. Close. “Want t-to-”

“Mhmm–?”

“To-” You’re just so far gone, your gushing orifice only getting soppier and soppier by the second. And before Gojo’s fourth and final spank comes slamming down on your clit- you’re crying. “Cum- fuck fuck fuck- m’so close. So- m’gonna cum–”

And as soon as it was about to happen - it’s gone.

Immediately, your lungs depart with a disappointed whine. “Nooo–!” Scratching at the pronounced back of his throat, you’re struggling to maneuver your body within his merciless hold. And the entire time Gojo only watches in amusement at his sheer display of strength, “I was so close- fuck! Was about to cum, Toru…”

“Nuh uh.” Gojo’s grinning - grinning. And oh, despite the way that makes his cheek indent with a cute, cratering dimple you already know this won’t bode well for you. “M’starvin’ after that match.”

Before you can dredge up enough brainpower to ask what that meant - he’s already showing you. 

Falling back onto the stark white bed until his head hit the pillows with a dull whoosh! and for the moment you’re simply admiring just how pretty he is. 

This wasn’t the Six Eyes that everyone knew and feared. 

With his ethereal locks splaying out on the cushion like a halo, looking oh-so-pale in comparison to the pretty pink that he was flushing all the way from forehead to neck. Irises half-lidded, crazed. Gojo’s broad, scarred chest heaves with every murked out pant he was whistling out. 

Twiddling over the shoulder strap of that tight lil’ number you called your nurse’s outfit. “Take this off f’me- show me my hah- show me my lady.” 

Oh, it would never get old when you do that.

The way that Gojo’s toes curl, the apples of his cheeks staining with a scorching whirlwind of blushing red. Fuck- his heavy tongue droops even heavier with a slick covering of watery spittle, just watching you in your matching set of bra n’ panties. 

All in light blue.

“Knew I’d win, huh?” He’s quirking a snowy brow smugly as he does away with your bra, too. “C’mere.” Gojo’s long lashes flutter up at you delicately, his crowning smirk plastered permanently across his handsome features. And as you’re tentatively making your way on top of him, he cups a roaming grope of your left ass-cheek. 

Squeezing for a second - two - before the strongest simply lifts you up to straddle his face. He doesn’t even waste a second. Doesn’t even hesitate. 

Setting you down gently - you think he of all people would even need to try to manhandle your pretty self this way?

No introductions, no welcome mats necessary - your throbbing pussy was already pouring out in torrentials of translucent sap right through your underwear. Copious, dolloping droplets that hit his readily awaiting pinkish tastebuds in claggy splats!

“Mmm—” He’s swirling his soaked muscle all ‘round the insides of his mouth to just savor your sugary taste. Through a sharp, three-second spank to your ass once more, Gojo grunts, “No need to be shy. Sit on my face, mama.”

And Gojo was always such a messy eater - not even the slightest bit afraid to get his hands dirty. 

No wonder all his opponents complained that he had the filthiest mouth. His tongue was lengthy, dexterous enough to slither past your panties with a sapping squelch! the very nanosecond your drooling core hits the tip of his tongue.

Oh- Gojo’s eyes agonize shut simply to memorize the pattern in which your strands of dangling slick slipped into his mouth. Lathering his chin all glossy, “Yeah like that-” His rugged palms stick to that perfect curvature of your spine. “-sit properly. Sit.”

You’re mumbling out something barely audible, cut off when he curls a firm hand around your throat and pulls you down onto his ravenous face. “Said- fucking sit-”

Sweltering hot breath strikes your geysering hole and makes you keen, your cracked eyelids open just barely enough to spot the way Gojo lands a shimmering glob of saliva right inside. And more when it only adds to the steadily-growing pool you were formulating on his pointed chin, his neck. 

Whimpering when your weight settles on a purple-ish spot on his cheek where Sukuna had caught him off-guard. 

“Watch this.” He’s moaning throatily, making such a show of letting your slippery slit streak out utter cascades all down his tongue. “Told ya- s’a fuckin’ heh- waterpark. Come ride my mouth, my girl- come- come.”

Your head tumbles back with a loud ‘fuck’ when his parched muscle bullies right past the rubbery ring of your entrance. And he takes the time curling his mazing tip into your slicked hole and streeeetching out a cute lil’ heart that makes you whine your poor heart out. 

With a scoff at the way whoever walked by your clinic definitely knew what was happening, Gojo’s slapping the tender skin of your ass raw. “Yeah yeah, louder n’ maybe that ngh- bastard Sukuna will hear.”

Slowly yet sensually probing his tastebuds into every mushy ridge and corner embedded inside of you, he was roaming so deep. Raking a thorough grip on your right ass cheek to gyrate your sodden cunt rougher.

Fucking you wiiildly with his tongue - so wide. Fast. 

He was impatient. 

“Y’know with you sittin’ and- nghh-” You’re mewling once he tapes off that sentence with a pinch of your perked clit between his plush lips. Hollowing out those attractive cheeks to tug n’ tug until you’re sobbing. “-and- and squirming in the seats tonight- this was alllll I could think about?”

He spits back a loaded wad of drool that slides away back down to your flooded hole, pushing the webbed mess right back with the fat crown of his thumb. “Couldn’t wait-”

“Ngh- Toru—” You’re recanting like your own personal mantra, the crackles in your voice following every flop of his textured tongue in and out in and out in and out. “Keep going- hah! Feels so gooood–”

“Mhm, I know.” Gojo bites back cockily, chewing on the squishy inside of his cheek to stop himself from fucking moaning outloud at how your pussylips were just throbbing. The very same pulse you felt in your tight throat. “Had to stop myself from- ngh- making out with this lady right ‘ere all in front- in front of those cameras.”

“Y-you would-”

THWACK!

Oh, he’s snapping at the stretchy elastic of your panties to let the slimy fabric spank your precise pussymound.

Taking the filthy, filthy opportunity while you’re thrown into a dumbstruck daze to skim a few strong fingers underneath your stringy panties, Gojo pulls-pulls-pulls until it’s torn cleanly off of your hips. Freeing you completely bare, and gifting him with the perfect scented fabric for him to draw up to his nose and sniff–

Your jaw dangles widely agape, the same greedy oh! that your dewy hole makes when setting it aside to dip a finger sloppily inside your cunt.

Stocky and long. And yet you take Gojo’s length middle finger with great gulping clamps of your dripping pussy, so much so that you’re hearing a growling “Fuuuck, mama- m-made for me.” from underneath you.

You just made the strongest…stutter?

And you’re just pouring wet from the idea, but before you can stupidly open your mouth to taunt the big, bad fighter below you - Gojo squeezes his hold on your neck and draaaags you further down. Until you’re so pushed against his hot maw that you don’t know where you end and he begins.

He’s spitting, there’s another pop! as he adds another girthy finger to scissor apart your treacly slit. Rovering and rovering. Your voice shatters into numerous pieces so cutely, and he can feel the way your core pulsates frantically once he’s smudging the doughy tops of his digits nearer to your g-spot. 

Hmmm, he’s snickering internally. Gojo’s swirlin’ his manicured fingernail right over your bulging magical spots with such ease. It was so cute how obvious you were. 

“Got such a pretty cunt.” You’re arching desperately on and off his vibrato of words, the very same vibrations curdling that tightness in your stomach. “Such a pretty- pretty…”

“Sh-shiiit, Toru–” You hiccup, warbling shrills filling up Gojo’s ears like his favorite song. And it was. Almost as much as the plap! of a fresh wave of sap spraying a sheen across his face as he slithers in a third finger.

Sliding his pearly whites over your neglected clit, “Tha’s my name.” Gojo’s mouth hangs open with every slop, slapping alllll over the hood of your nub before trying to squish the very mound of his tongue in past your overstuffed entrance. Stimulating you. Driving you insane.

He’s swatting your ass a few more times until the mere touch of skin-on-skin sends your eyes sliiiding all the way to the back of your head. Gurgling – wet. “Say it a lil’ louder f’me now.”

“Toru–” you’re raking your hands down his pecs, nudging your plump clit right into the very tip of his button nose. And oh, you’re feeling the frigid whoosh! of air once Gojo leans his head in and takes a deeeep breath. Tugging gingerly on his unruly hair and he groans-

“Louder.”

“T-To-”

“No stutterin’.”

And you don’t know if you could comply with all his mean rules even if you could, the locked vice of his warm palm jostling your watery eyes until they were dead staring at him. 

He was peering up at you through angelic, white lashes with such loving. Cerise lips swirling all over your beating clit, he could practically taste the rapid ba-dump–! of it coating his heated mouth. 

Starting to crawl straightly up but you don’t even mean to. All he has to do is grasp your throat until all the air drains from your lungs and you’re held there. Solely by his monstrous strength. 

Swallowing back the leaden lump that’s permanently branded on your throat, with a flex of broad arms you’re being lazily shoved sloppier and sloppier by each passing second. And as you’re resting your dribbling slit back on his sensual chin, a steamy cloud of Gojo’s giggles hit where you’re stretched the most tautly tight. 

Blinking eyes flickering with primal need, your bleary vision is just filled with the heavenly sight of him him him. Urging your rickety knees to knobble faster, he murmurs into your folds. “Say it.”

“P-please.” The outdated bed sings as you’re shivering. Shaking. And no amount of cute gasps that you intake is enough to stop your heart from racing. “Toru. Please l-let me ngh- cum.”

“Hmmmm. Good enough.” He’s leering mean-spiritedly up at you, that very same wicked curve of his lips glued to your pretty clit. Gojo lets off a strained growl that almost makes you shy – desperate. “Now…you’re gonna squirt f’me, mama.” 

Another hit thud! of hits at your g-spot, and another few steps closer to your inevitable high. So close, in fact, that you’re not even realizing what Gojo’d uttered until he lolls out his fat tongue like he was drunken, silvery slabs of spit hitting your inner thighs. “Spit.”

Fuck- the very same moment your glittery cobweb of saliva is hitting his sizzling tastebuds, you’re hitting your high. Well, more like crashing headfirst into it. 

And Gojo was right, the way you squirted your brain-shattered release was in the most vapid spurts of juices. Spraying out of you like a fountain, sploshing all over the top of his face n’ gravitating down to his chin. “Squirt on my face- yeahyeah fuck, squirt on my face.”

One that he loooooves. Oh, how he loves it. Loves you. 

“So sweet- fuck…fuck, always the fuckin’ sweetest, my girl.” His guttural syllables ring out and make your eyes immediately flap helplessly shut. Toes curling, “Thank you- was so fuckin’ thirsty after that fight. Thank you.”

Lets his swollen lips slip open to drink up the honeyed squirts in big, deep sluuuuurps–! Scraping near your g-spot to draw out more and more of those pooling splotches all over his face. Gojo knots his fingers ‘round your throat and shoves your pussy to cling to his mouth ruthlessly. You’re watching through the white-hot stars behind your lids at how obviously his prominent Adam’s apple bumps and propels. 

Fuck. 

Glossy layers of slick stick to your folds like a candied apple, and every lil’ suck Gojo leaves drives you craaazy. Soon enough, your thighs are twitching right on top of him, “Please, Toru–”

“Mmmm–?” He’s panting, positively blistered in sweat at this point. And even when he’s catching his eyes with yours, his own look…cloudy. Feral. Murmuring something like ‘round one’ into your outer pussy.

“Want you in me–” You’re babbling out the only few sets of words you know will work to draw him away from the sweet, sweet dessert he’s found between your legs. And you’re watching with bated breath as Gojo takes a sloppy second to consider, still nibbling his canines on your sensitive clit. 

Huffing n’ puffing cutely, you’re reeling your sweet cunt back– only for Gojo to squeeze his hold around your neck and pull-

“Just one more-” He’s contaminating the heady clinic air with repeated saccharine, saturated squelches after every peck upon peck. Like it hurt to part with your pussy - it always did, n’ Gojo made sure to leave her more than enough goodbye kisses.

“One more-” Stringy oodles of slick washing over his face, “One- one more.” Again. Just another French kiss. “One…” And again.

And again and again until you’re dipping your hands through his mussed-up bangs of cloudy white and tugging, all that it takes for Gojo’s achingly hard cock to twitch.

“O-oh.” His voice breaks so many multiple octaves higher as he pulls away with a final - final - slimy graze of his stinging lips. Head lazing in an angle downwards, as if he’d just noticed the painful, rock-hard bulge tenting his too-tight boxing shorts. 

And Gojo’s cerulean eyes widen, flitting from the slushy wet spot soaked through his dark pants, to the way your glistening hole was winking down at him. Needily - as if to beg.

The middle of your bowed spine tingles with the remnants of your orgasm as soon as Gojo opens his mouth to growl. Low. Rasping. 

Depraved. 

“On- on my cock now, mama.” He’s tracing his hands admiringly over your tummy, the edge of his thick thumb drawing a long line right across the middle and your teary slit - measuring you. Where he’d already memorized the sweet lil’ targets he’d be fucking deeeep inside. Could never forget. Gojo nudges his straight nosebridge between your dewy folds once more, “Gotta really celebrate w’my heh- lady here tonight.”

And as you’re scrambling on your still-tottering knees to slide yourself down his Adonis-like body, he scoffs. 

With a blunt roll of his eyes, Gojo’s cupping the curve of your slam-driven ass and manhandling you easily. Trawling your weepy pussy down, down, down over every one of the calloused scars on his front, every one of his bumpy abs - you counted eight - to sit all prettily beneath the snug waistline of his shorts. 

Gojo spies up at you through his chalky bangs, plastered to his forehead with perspiration until you’re barely making his greedy stare out. Eyes half-hooded, pupils darkly dilated until you couldn’t even see those irises. 

It’s then - only then - that you realize just how ruined he looked. 

With that blossoming injury from tonight’s match across his cheek, burnished and purple - though, not even half as bright as the flush that coated his pretty features. 

All red and raw. You were practically basking in the scalding heat that radiated off of him, melting the glassy sheen of slick that dripped off of him in globules, so fucking wet. 

And yet, Gojo only ever wanted more. Kissing you with his cutely pink lips, he heaves in great panting gusts. “Take- heh-” Massive, twitchy hands fall on your own and guide them to his thick hem, a viscous gumdrop of your sap trickles from the point of his nose. “Take ‘em off f’me, mama. Take a goood long look f’me~”

“So bossy.”

“Mmm— I’ll be fuckin’ that rude mouth shut soon.”

Gojo sits obediently manspread as you fumble your eager fingertips underneath his shorts and pull–

The first thing you see is a curly tuft of his white happy trail, glimmering and drenched through with his own buttery precum. 

And the second thing you see…fuck. He’s never been harder.

Swollen n’ aching. Gojo’s furiously reddened mushroom tip dribbles out a constant stream of syrupy pre, hitting your hands with a loud splash! And not just that– he was spilling out a murked milky few dewdrops as if eating you out had him on the very verge of cumming. 

He’s sprawling his swole, veined arms behind his head, letting you gawk and ogle as you please.

And how could you not?

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to just how pretty Gojo and his erect cock was. Damn past ten inches, it’s as if he grows every time you see him for a post-match ritual. 

And so does his rosy cockhead, the exact same shade of pink as his burning cheeks. So wide that your slippery hole clenches ‘round nothing at the sight. All bloated and over-decorated with so many lightning bolted veins, you’re feeling your mouth water at the mere notion of tasting him–

“Ah ah-” He tuts, pulling you away as he once more cradles your throat softly in one hand. 

You pout, “B-but…”

Nodding sloooowly so you understand, “Wanna fuck this pretty pussy. Ride me like a hah- good girl now, m’kay?”

Oh, he was so evil. He knew exactly how that lil’ nickname would have your mind pitching into a state of carnal frenzy.

The desire purely evident on your gorgeous face as you’re toppling your capped knees on either side of his firm, toned waist. 

One masculine hand wrapping around his bulky hilt - aligning it all ready to smooch your pretty pussy - he sliiiides his heavy head to sandwich between your bloated folds. Rocking upwards into a teasing little back n’ forth that leaves his rigid head swatting on your clit. Pap! Pap! Pap! 

“Ready–?” Gojo drawls out in husked syllables, licking his lips to lap up any remnant of you. Wordless, the only thing you can manage out right now is a shaken nod.

Before it feels like you’re being split apart.

You’re whining when your hole stretches out with a rowdy sluuuurp–! just the thickened tip of his length popping in past your entrance. And he’s so fat, you could feel every solid ba-dump–! of his prominent veins tugging your cunt apart. 

“Oh, f-fuck, jus’ look at you.” He’s spitting through gleaming clenched teeth, words hitting you straight into your saccharine sweet pussy. Biting down on his pouty bottom lip, “Just ngh- look at you takin’ me- taking that biiig stretch, fuck.”

Your glassy eyes roll all the way back at the way he wasn’t even halfway inside yet already made you feel so dizzy. Stumbling flailingly into his arms, “Wanna kiss, Toru–”

“S’so cute when you’re all cockdrunk” Gojo whispers as he leaves a stinging spank on your ass, the shock of the force makin’ you swerve your hips deeper down his thick shaft. 

But he doesn’t kiss you - not yet. Instead, he’s chuckling deeply at your adorable irritation, sharp hips bucking off the mattress just so that he could fit himself inside. Up. Up. Up. Probing and probing his pulsing crowned tip over and over to ease inside a few more solid inches. 

“T-Tooooruuuu–”

“Mhm–” He places a warm palm faced open on your tummy, searching for that familiar bump where he’d be ruining you all inside. Where his rounded head would be prying apart your gum-like walls in urgent impales. “I’ll kiss you if ya say ‘biiig stretch’ f’me, my girl.”

You’re squirming your hips impatiently, only to be locked down with only one of Gojo’s hands. Honestly, what did you think going against a fighting champion? “B-big-”

“Nuh uh.” Bearing you with a wild, animalistic smile that makes you shudder. All wide and toothy. He’s rudely slapping you once more - this time on your dripping cunt. Quivering. “Say it. Biiig stretch, mama.”

“B-big-” You wail out whimpers just as soon as your little mistake leaves Gojo’s swollen shaft inching out of your hole, a warning. Already making you feel so empty inside- “Fuck! Big- biiig- stretch mmpf-”

Before you can register it, a hand clawed into your throat pulls you to crash your lips onto Gojo’s soft ones - muffling the absolute trill you’re letting off when he finally bottoms out with one big push. Finally. 

“Now m’kissing you here, too–” he has the audacity to flush. 

His sensual mushroom tip scrapes a swiveling line allll down your gooey walls, swirling ‘round and ‘round until he’s following the map directly to your g-spot. Giving her a good long snog, you’re curling your toes at the swashing waves of pre that dribble out of him and straight onto that tender orifice. 

You’re so full that your mouth overspills with generous helpings of drool, slobbering right onto the valley between his pecs where you found yourself laid. 

The slick velvety walls of your cunt scoop him up gladly, and Gojo finds himself wearing such a dopey smile at the instinctual way your gummy walls clench. “Hmm– have I ever told ya how much I ngh- love you?”

And maybe it was the way his thick cock was reaching you everywhere, maybe it was the way Gojo stared at you with heart eyes. It could’ve been anything and everything - you simply found yourself cumming. 

Right then and there, with only a few vulgar bludgeons of his merciless cock. 

And Gojo?

Gojo looks like he’s in heaven. 

Startling out a slight puff of laughter while he careens his hips back to fuck you through your sudden high, and you can feel the way he pinpricks your insides with every thrust. Feel the way he strikes right at your most favorite spots - precisely. 

“Already? I really am winnin’ tonight- heh. Already won Round 2, too.” 

Round 2? What is he…oh. 

Oh, shit.

He’s talking about how many times he’s made you cum.

The sounds of his raspy praises make your ears buzz, head throwing backwards when you start to arch your back and rut yourself, attempting to meet his vicious pace. To run.

“Fuh-fuuuuck” You’re biting your tongue to try and fight back those pathetic pitches and mewls seeping from your lips. And all it takes is a slamming whack into your cervix to render that useless. “Fuck me- fuckmefuckme, Toooru–!”

“Now now,” he’s tutting, and oh you can feel your tummy lurch with anticipation at that dark tonality of his. Or maybe that was just the feral twitch of his battering tip. 

Through eyes saturated with a film of fat droplets of tears, you’re glancing down at the way your hips are suddenly pinned to his toned pelvis. Unmoving. With just his steady grip of your throat. “Runnin’s against the rules, mama.”

And suddenly, you’re moved so fast your cottony brain begins to wonder if maybe you’ve teleported. 

You’re whimpering as your fatigued back ends up laid over the crescent curves of his pectorals, his front digging into your mounds of flesh as Gojo pulls your clammy knees back back back back. Into a full nelson so mean that you don’t even realize he’s positioned his cock until he sinks allll the way back in–

“Atttta girl. Look at youuu–” His hoarse pants sizzle the tender lobes of your ear after every unapologetic pound you’re being graced with. You gawp at the full-length mirror that was right adjacent to the patient bed, shit- you forgot that was even there.  

And now that you’d taken a glimpse at the lecherous scene, you couldn’t look away.

Gojo was so staggering. Swole muscles bending you pliably, the only thing holding you upright enough so that your cross-eyed stare could lock with your fucked-out reflection in the mirror. 

Your dizzy pupils circling all over comically the more n’ more he jackhammered away. Vehemently. 

The girth of his shaft was so big that your head lolls stupidly back into the planes of his collarbones, “Takin’ care of ya favorite fighter.”

Five exact circumferences of his fingertips sway over to that large, cylindrical outline being oh-so-thoroughly fucked into you. A tummy bulge that he thumbs over, that mushroomy globular end.

“Takin’ c-care of me alllll ngh-” He massages down on that cute lil’ bump going back and forth back and forth back and forth. Driving himself just as crazy as he was with you. Groaning, “-here.”

And Gojo’s body was still aching from the aftereffects of his fight, he was still sore in places with soon-to-be bruises. Yet, he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t even slow down.

Hard and fast.

His crownhead an angry red that prodded your deepest, most tender insides. Pushing and pushing and pushing. So wide that both you and the rickety bed were singing with whimpers after every delving drag of his vein-covered length.

Strokes vulgar. Alllll the way from the very strawberry divot in the middle of his globular tip, to the massive circumference of his hefty base. And even though every pricking whack into your cervix was hard, Gojo took his lazy time pulling back out to make sure you felt every bump and bolt of his swollen veins scraping down your insides. 

“Watch this.”

“Wh-what- oh.”

You’re peering through the smoggy mirror at the way the strongest himself rovers up his big, beefy right arm to wrap neatly ‘round your neck. His hard-earned biceps bulging against your throat and blocking off your airway sexily.

Watching yourself, you swear you could count every vein thumping down his forearm, every flex of his rippling muscles caging against your neck. Oh…you only got wetter. 

“Saw you lookin’ at me. Could tell how much ya- haaah- liked this, mama.” Gojo titters, words sloppy and his strokes even sloppier. “Almost drenched the heh- seat didn’tya? Watching me? Ohhh you like this don’tcha? W’my big arms puttin’ you in a ngh- big headlock?”

Babbling. Gojo himself was drooling, a thin trickle of spittle that befell with every passing second he watched your sloppy slit swallow his inches. 

Yearning for more.

Begging for more.

You half-couldn’t believe that was you with your face tear-streaked and oh-so-ruined in the reflection. And once you feel that familiar fluttering from your pussy, you’re slithering down a hand between your legs–

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” He was breathless. 

It was so easy for Gojo to trap both your unsteady wrists within only one of his, gruffly bringing you back into your cute headlock whilst pinning them so you could struggle allll you want. But he wasn’t letting up.

Clinging onto your swiveling with one hand, and keeping you manhandled with the other. He bucks his hips so your curved spine is rubbed all down with his sweat-glossed abs, he knew how weak you were for it. 

Smearing the stocky end of his thumb over your needy clit, “Not when ya have me, mama.” He breathes next to your ear, so close. Drawing circles. Hearts. His name. Mindlessly lapping away the pearls of tears running down your face, “Not when your d-dear ngh- ‘Toru’s’ here.”

And when you’re cumming, it’s with those exact words scratching a carnal desire set inside of you. 

“Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming- ngh!” Your previous orgasms had already taken so much out of you that it was all you could to will yourself not to pass out right now and here. 

“Yeah? Yeah? Go on- I- ngh- win- round three- heh.”

Sharp stings of pleasure buzzing all the way from your throbbing pussy to your empty head, you draaag your nails all over his sturdy forearms. Your body slicks over with sweltering perspiration, glissading you smoothly up n’ down Gojo’s sculptured body. 

Gojo jostles you in his headlock to stare deeply into your eyes while he drags out your high, counting every filthy spank he was honing out. It’s not too far into your overstimulated high before his creamy tip showers your drenched insides with sprays of buttery cum.

You could hear yourself mumbling out faint nonsense with every ropey smack you felt pumped inside you, and it was as if Gojo was orgasming harder than he had his entire life. 

Cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop - didn’t even know if he could.

And it was so weighty, too.

You could feel the soppy splosh of his sap being bubbled all up inside you, every swab of Gojo’s leaking cockhead frothing it even deeper inside. You’re swearing the bumpy outline of your tummy bulge was only being cumflated, feeling like he was glueing your very walls together.

Naturally, a few slicked gumdrops of cum ooze their way out between your teary slit. His hips jolt at the primal sight, thick seed dribbling out of you like frosting, formulating so many rings upon rings that Gojo just can’t help but admire and muse as his most favorite ones. 

Shit, with a humid pop! he’s inching out just to watch the butter-covered sheen that stuck to his red shaft. 

Hooded, his sapphire gaze rips away from your reflection to narrow down at you. At the way your ancient patient bed was now completely destroyed; headboard split, standing on only three feeble legs. 

“Broke the bed, heh- tha’s a KO, my girl.” Gojo lets go of his headlock on you, nuzzling your cheek with his sweat-lacquered forehead whilst you still attempt to catch your breath. “Mmmm– really do love you, y’know- the fuckin’ b-best prize I could ever have.”

“I love you too–” You find your cartoonishly dazed smile directed up at him. “-Six Eyes.”

With a soft groan, he twiddles his thumb over to toy with the sticky seconds of his seed pouring out of you. Lazily.

Letting it scoop onto his fingerpads, shoving it back between your slippy lips. Repeatedly even painting a languid heart with it over your tummy bulge- before skidding the salted cream between your lips. 

With a fat few fingers stuffed into your dampening maw, overflowing with glutinous saliva, you’re letting your eyes stray back to the reflection in the mirror. Blinking back your vision-

“Holy shit.” You’re gaping - at everything from the way that Gojo Satoru had seemed to gain more red, red scratches and bruises all over his arms, back, and pecs from you than in an actual fight, to the way he seemed utterly content about it. “T-Toru, I gave you more marks than Sukuna did during the Shinjuku Showdown…”

“I know.”

.

.

.

“Aaaand welcome back, folks! To the Shinjuku Showdown 2.0!” 

You wince, Haibara’s commentating voice would never grow any less booming no matter how many times you sat here. Front row for yet another one of Gojo’s famed fights. 

Though, you squirm in your seat, you wished he could get here sooner. 

“Requested by our very own King of Curses- he’s quite a sore loser you see- oh, my mistake, Mr. Sukuna, sir. You are the underground’s most honorable fighter, of course of course.”

Ryomen Sukuna scowls even as the crows roar and yell rambunctiously around him, eyes falling on you - for the briefest, tensest second - before he tears away. Pacing around the barren ring like a tiger prowling for his prey.

Only, said prey wasn’t going down without making sure that Sukuna knew the true hierarchy here. 

“FINALLY! Hereee we have our monster of Japan, Six Eyes, making his long-awaited entrance tonight! Ohhh place your bets, ladies and gentlemen, tonight is going to be goooood!”

When Gojo Satoru entered the ring, everyone knew. Everyone held their breath.

It never got old seeing his generously over six-foot figure loom menacingly towards the ring, draped in a dark blue robe of crushed velvet. Which just-so-happened to be the exact color of your matching lingerie tonight…

Usual gloves on hand, a tiny, plastic remote in hand.

You’re shivering as he twiddles it over deftly, pulling down the hiked-up hem of your nurse’s outfit. Just praying that nobody could hear the bzzz–! of that hot-pink bullet vibrator lodged inside your sloppy pussy.

Meant to be there for the entire fight. 

The cutting stadium air was so tautly-pulled that you could hear every resounding thud! of his powerful footsteps as Haibara rattles off Sukuna’s introduction. Jumping swiftly and athletically over the ropes of the ring. 

“And in THIS corner, we have Six Eyes, The Strongest. Some fear to speak his name. Some think he isn’t human. With a winning streak ever since he arrived here, with so many knockouts that it’s said they created a new medical term for it. Challenge him and you challenge death. The man. The myth. The nightmare-” 

Then Gojo straightens- 

“-a monster that can never be tamed!”

-and he lets his robe fall.

All red, angry patterns of scratches on full display for the countless rabid photographers and watchers to gawk at. Down his back, down his arms, down his pecs.

Everywhere and anywhere for the eye to see, and to see Gojo- Six Eyes of all people to be so thoroughly claimed. As if he was thrown to the wolves - someone put a hand on him?

Oh, you could hear the reporters stumbling over their questions as they screamed for answers and relationship reveals. 

Though, all of them were answered once he turns straight to you. Miniscule remote calibrated to the very maximum before Gojo fucking throws it somewhere into the ringside. Even through his muzzle, you could tell he was grinning as you gasped at the lecherous vibrations pulsating to your g-spot. 

Over and over whilst media personnel - realizing your connection to the most dangerous underground fighter in all of Japan - jostled you for more juicy details. Fuck- everyone was going to know about this. Everyone. 

Gojo turns back to a fuming Sukuna with a quirk of his ivory brow. 

“The monster has- has been tamed! Let the fight begin!”

A/N. FAWK I NEED HIM. Was this slightly inspired by all the boxing talk going on in my blog? Mayhaps. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[headspace-hotel]

Notes on Torturing The Character In The Science Facility

my takes on this trope rarely if ever have anything to do with the character being "special" or being studied for powers they innately have, if they are special its something that was done to them

it's about the medical trauma

it's about the violation and lack of bodily autonomy

the "living weapon" trope, but the key characteristic is catastrophic functionality

i love, love, love the concept of "catastrophic functionality" in a person: character that can tank ludicrous amounts of damage and just Keep Going in virtually all circumstances barring outright dismemberment. They can keep going, so do they "deserve" rest and/or pain relief?

after a lifetime of having their distress treated as whiny and unreasonable, they have what would be a dangerously high tolerance to pain and exhaustion.

another key function of the Science Facility is to fix the damage Character takes, maybe using enhanced healing technologies or 3D printed organs or something. this leads to Character's body being treated as relatively disposable cause "we can just fix them"

extreme version of this: Character can't die even if they wanted to

people who work with Character are informed that they're dangerous and arbitrarily violent, and their fear of Character makes it easier to justify restricting autonomy

It is TRUE, cause Character does not have tools to set boundaries or protect their body other than violence. vicious cycle of being perceived as dangerous and therefore denied autonomy, and being forced to use violence to defend autonomy

the restraints used to hold Character look like major overkill, which underscores how dangerous they are. LOVE this trope

character being desexualized to the point that their non-consent to touch, to being stripped down and examined, or to procedures is trivialized. There is no non-clinical context for their body, and the "clinical" framework eclipses any possibility for bodily violation to be understood as violent.

types of uncanniness: Character looks human but has some subtle inhuman traits or characteristics. (I'm obsessed with reflective eye shine, personally.) OR Character looks like they've been taken apart and put back together, like flesh pulled over a much more unforgiving and indestructible metal scaffold. OR Character gives off "undead" vibes; they're just not quite alive in a way that sets off air raid sirens in people's brains

Often, Character is dead and Came Back Wrong (varying levels of literalness)

anyways yeah. i never stopped writing this trope and probably never will. it's a good one

[monstersholygrail]

Your Werewolf bf pounds relentlessly into your sopping cunt, low growls rumbling in his throat as he tries to gain enough friction to make up for the unbearable barrier of the condom between you. Your laughter mocks him, even as it breaks between your whiny fucked out moans. You clench down, making your hot core even tighter around his massive girth.

Your bf throws his head back, a long howl leaving his throat at the sensation. Yet it’s not enough. In any other case he’d burrow his face into your neck and release his pent up frustration by claiming you and littering your body with his marks. But he can’t even do that.

“Take it off,” he snarls, speaking as much as he can with the muzzle covering his face. The metal soaked with his slobber and drool.

A lazy smile spreads across your lips, your mind registering his words but too lost in the pleasure to fully respond. You can only moan, voice cracking and whimpering as he plows his length into your tight heat. The force jerking your body back with every thrust even as you weakly try and meet them.

“Nyyaaah—hmmm. C-choose o-one— ahh!” You force out between wrecked moans of bliss.

Werewolf bf’s eyes flash dangerously. He leans down, trying to snap his jaw at you, and it only fuels his rage when he remembers he can’t, the muzzle stopping him again. He picks up his pace, his hips a blur as they snap into your weeping cunt. Claws sinking dangerously into your plush hips. You cry out loudly, body warping unnaturally with the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

He watches you carefully, his anger only sharpening his instincts. He knows your every sign like the back of his hand. He knows how good he’s fucking this tight pussy of yours by the way your eyes flutter just as your cunt does around his cock, he knows he’s turned your brain into mush as your lips spew incoherent babble, and he knows you’re about to cum when he feels you clenching around his length as if preparing to milk him dry and force every last drop of his seed into your fertile womb.

“This is your own damn fault, baby. Makin’ me choose the fucking condom!” Your Werewolf bf snaps, his voice raspy with need even as a feral smirk spreads across his face.

He slips out of your spent cunt just as you’re about to fall over the edge and an agonized cry rips through your throat at the loss. The sudden emptiness inside you knocks you off your axis, your body lost in the missing sensation. Werewolf bf doesn’t waste a moment, flexing his hands, and gripping onto the stretchy latex before shredding it to pieces.

Once free from one-half of his torturous confines, Werewolf bf slams his length back inside of you. Relishing in your screams as he splits you open in two on his giant cock. He stays all the way inside you, his fat aching tip grinding against that special spot inside you that has you seeing stars. Every nerve in your body spasms and sparks to life and before you know it your vision is flashing white as your orgasm overtakes you.

Werewolf bf roars as you suck his cock deeper and deeper, practically forcing his knot inside of you and making you whimper at the stretch. Your body violently shakes as cum on his cock, your mind gone as he’s fucked you stupid. He grins down at the sight and it’s that which has him flying over the edge, pumping seemingly endless spurts of his seed as deep inside you as he can get.

Your mind is truly gone as all you’re able to focus on is the sensations buzzing through you and your bf’s hot sweaty body pressed up against you. It’s only soft clinking of metal followed by a dull thud that has your attention returning to this plan of existence. Your eyes flutter open and fall onto Werewolf bf’s discarded muzzle.

His eyes glow with an unspeakable lust as he gazes down at your limp form. A low groan leaves you and you weakly shift to bare your throat for him because one look and you knew. He was gonna fuck you through the night till you repaid him an orgasm for every time he wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh but was denied by the muzzle you say he wear. He slowly hovers over you, his hot breath fanning your neck and sending chills down your spine, letting you know what’s to come.

[mephisto-reporting]

Jealousy, Jealousy with Sylus

Plot: Reader becomes jealous of Sylus and MC's closeness, distancing herself and seeking comfort in another LI. Sylus notices her growing distance and takes action. Based on this request. Pairing: Sylus x Non MC reader Content Warning: Insecurities, injuries, mention of blood, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort Note: Reader is not the MC of the game. I think I got quite carried away writing this because I am a sucker for angst. [ A disclaimer note - Please be respectful of the request ]

The faint hum of the air condition echoed through the Onychinus base, its opulent, luxurious atmosphere doing little to distract from the knot twisting in your stomach. You stood across from Luke and Kieran, their crow masks tilted slightly as if to gauge your reaction.

"Boss isn't here today," Luke said casually, his hands tucked into his pockets. "He’s in Linkon, Boss man’s got other things to handle."

Kieran, his mask tilted slightly to the side, gave a confused grunt. "But I thought he was meeting with her...?"

Luke raised a brow, correcting him. "No, no, he was meeting with Miss Hunter."

Miss Hunter.

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, even though they shouldn’t have. You were a hunter too, an informant who had been feeding Sylus critical intel on the association’s movements for two years now. But she was different. Special.

Captain Jenna’s star pupil, with her rare Anhaunsen-class Resonance Evol, was someone Sylus had spent weeks trying to connect with, both literally and emotionally. You weren’t blind to the necessity of it; resonating with her was crucial for his goals, ones he hadn’t entirely shared with you but that you trusted him to pursue.

Trusted him. Loved him.

You forced a tight smile. "Thanks for the update. I'll let you two get back to it."

Luke and Kieran exchanged a glance, but you were already walking away, the echo of your boots swallowed by the hum of the base.

The ride back to Linkon was supposed to clear your mind. It didn’t.

The cool wind whipped against your face, but all it did was sting the tears pooling in your eyes. The road stretched endlessly ahead, yet the pressure in your chest only grew. Sylus hadn’t seen you in two months. Two months of unanswered calls and messages reduced to half-hearted responses when they came at all.

You understood why he was focused on her. She was crucial to his plans. She was everything you weren’t: poised, pretty, powerful, and, most importantly, someone he needed.

But understanding didn’t make it hurt any less.

The world blurred around you as your thoughts spiraled. You had always known your place in Sylus’ life. You were the informant, the quiet insider who helped him stay two steps ahead of the hunters. Somewhere along the way, though, you had fallen for him. For the man who wasn’t as cold and calculated as others believed. It had been two long years since you started working with Sylus. Two years filled with secrecy, lies, and hidden truths. But over those years, you'd found yourself tangled in emotions for him that you couldn’t shake. Sylus, with his cold authority, his dangerous smile, his complex nature… He was all you could think about. He wasn’t as dismissive as people thought. He had a way of looking at you when no one was watching—a fleeting softness that you cherished, even if you couldn’t be certain if it was real.

And now, it felt like you were losing him.

Your bike screeched to a halt near Meow’s Café. You hadn’t planned to stop, but the sight of the familiar storefront tugged at you. Perhaps a coffee and a moment to breathe would help.

The glass windows glinted under the midday sun, and your breath hitched as you looked inside.

Sylus was there. With her.

They sat at a small table, a deck of Kitty cards spread between them. He was leaning back, his smirk in full display as she laughed at something he said. It was the kind of laugh that reached her eyes, the kind of moment you had only ever dreamed of sharing with him.

You froze, your hands tightening on your helmet.

For a fleeting second, you wanted to march inside and demand answers. To ask him why he had time to play cards but couldn’t return your calls. To tell him how his absence had hollowed you out.

But you didn’t.

He looks so happy... you thought bitterly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

The truth gnawed at you. Every interaction, every ignored message, every unread notification on your phone—it was because of her. Because Sylus had more important things to do. She was the one who mattered now. She was the one who he had to resonate with, had to bond with, had to make fall for him.

And you? You were just a pawn, a tool—forgotten. And there you were. Alone. Watching through a window, the warmth of the cafe contrasting the cold, empty feeling in your stomach. He hadn’t even bothered to let you know he was back. He was with her. You couldn’t bear to watch any longer, but you couldn’t look away either. It felt like the world was spinning faster than you could catch up, and you were left stranded, dizzy, and abandoned.

Instead, you turned away, your chest tight and vision blurred. The world felt suffocating, the weight of your unspoken feelings dragging you down as you climbed back onto your bike.

It was for the best, right?

You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep waiting for him, couldn’t keep fooling yourself that there was something real between you two. He was busy. He had her. And you.. well, you didn’t even know why you bothered anymore.

The ride back to your apartment was a blur of taillights and muffled engine noise. The city’s glow that usually brought you some sense of comfort felt glaring and alien tonight. By the time you made it inside, the suffocating silence of your small space was overwhelming.

For someone who prided herself on being strong and independent, you barely made it to your couch before the sobs overtook you. Hot, angry tears streamed down your face as you clutched a pillow to your chest, trying in vain to keep your cries muffled. It felt as though something within you had been ripped apart, leaving an aching, hollow void that throbbed with every thought of him.

You replayed the image of him at the café in your mind, over and over, as if some part of you wanted to punish yourself further. His smirk. Her laughter. The ease of their interaction. It contrasted so sharply with the heaviness that now weighed on your heart.

Every chime of your phone made you flinch, hope briefly sparking to life, only to be cruelly snuffed out when the screen lit up with messages from others—work updates, pointless notifications, or friends checking in. Nothing from him. Of course, there wouldn’t be.

You wiped at your face, your chest tightening as you scrolled through the last few conversations you’d had with Sylus. They were short, clipped responses. A "thanks" here, an "I’m busy" there. You’d convinced yourself for weeks that he wasn’t brushing you off, that his focus was just elsewhere. But deep down, you knew. You’d always known.

You weren’t as important to him as he was to you.

That realization settled over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and final. And yet, you tried to convince yourself it was okay. He doesn’t owe me anything, you told yourself, though the thought only twisted the knife deeper. He’s free to choose who he spends his time with.

But it didn’t stop the tears.

The days that followed were a haze of exhaustion and numbness. You threw yourself into your work, spending long hours tracking and confronting wanderers. The physical exhaustion helped, even if just a little. At least when you were in the middle of a fight, the pain in your chest was drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Still, the nights were the worst. Alone in your apartment, the quiet crept in like a suffocating fog. You tried to distract yourself—reading, cleaning, even organizing old mission reports. Anything to keep your mind from drifting back to him. But it was impossible.

Each time you saw his name in your contacts, you hesitated. Your thumb hovered over the call button more times than you cared to admit, but the fear of hearing his indifferent voice stopped you every time. What would you even say? That you missed him? That you wanted to see him? That you’d fallen for him, even though you knew it would never be mutual?

No. You couldn’t do that to yourself.

You worked harder, pushed yourself further. Every wanderer you fought became a stand-in for your frustrations, your insecurities. You told yourself that if you could just stay busy enough, the ache would go away. But no matter how many missions you completed or how many late nights you spent staring at your phone, the weight in your chest never fully lifted.

By the end of the week, you were exhausted—physically and emotionally. But you were surviving. Barely. The bell above the door jingled softly as you pushed into the chocolatier’s shop, the rich scent of cocoa and vanilla wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The day had been grueling—hours of chasing leads, a narrow escape from a particularly aggressive wanderer, and not a single bite of food since morning. Your stomach growled in protest, a sharp reminder that you’d been running on fumes for too long.

Rows of meticulously crafted chocolates gleamed beneath the glass counter, their perfect swirls and shimmering finishes almost too beautiful to eat. Almost. You leaned forward slightly, scanning the display, your reflection ghosting over the pristine surface.

Dark chocolate truffles. Raspberry ganache. Caramel hazelnut clusters. The options were overwhelming, and your indecision felt heavier than it should’ve. Your chest still ached from the lingering emotions you’d been suppressing all week. The quiet joy of the shop felt alien, like stepping into a world you no longer belonged to.

Just pick something and go, you thought, your fingers tightening on the strap of your bag. But the choices seemed endless, each one whispering promises of sweetness you weren’t sure you deserved.

"If you’re struggling," a soft, measured voice spoke behind you, "the pistachio crème chocolate is an excellent choice."

Startled, you turned, your gaze falling on a man standing a few steps away. Tall and lean, he exuded an understated confidence that was both intimidating and captivating. Dark hair fell in against his forehead, and sharp hazel-green eyes, softened by gold flecks peered at you from behind thin-framed glasses. His white doctor’s coat was open, revealing a simple black shirt beneath, and he held a small paper bag in one hand.

You blinked, caught off guard by both his suggestion and his presence. "Oh, uh… thank you," you stammered, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt. "I’ll… I’ll try that."

The shopkeeper nodded and carefully packed your selection as you stole another glance at the stranger. There was an air of calm authority about him, a quiet assurance that made you feel oddly exposed, like he could see straight through you.

He waited patiently as the shopkeeper handed you your bag, but just as you were about to leave, his voice cut through the quiet again—this time, more direct. "Chocolates shouldn’t be your first meal of the day."

The statement was delivered without malice, his tone stoic and matter-of-fact, yet it hit like a stone to the chest. Your lips parted in shock, the question forming before you could stop it: How does he know? But before you could say anything, he was already moving toward the door. The bells jingled softly as it closed behind him, leaving you standing frozen in place. The stranger’s words lingered, intertwining with the rest of your messy emotions. Your fingers clenched the small bag of chocolates as you tried to process the brief encounter.

A soft gleam on the floor caught your attention, breaking your spiraling thoughts. A wallet, its sleek leather worn but well-kept, lay just inches from where the man had stood. You knelt and picked it up, your heart thudding as you opened it to check for identification.

The name embossed on his hospital ID was like a jolt: Dr. Zayne. Your eyes widened. Doctor Zayne? The name was familiar—a renowned surgeon whose skills and precision were legendary, often described as a miracle worker. You’d imagined someone older, more weathered, not… this.

For a moment, you stared at the ID, piecing together the puzzle of the composed, enigmatic man who had called you out so effortlessly. You tried the number listed on a card tucked into his wallet, but it rang unanswered, the sterile monotone only adding to your frustration.

"Of course, he wouldn’t answer," you muttered under your breath, chewing your lip as you debated your next move. The idea of keeping his wallet overnight felt wrong, and leaving it here in the shop seemed equally careless.

That left one option.

The hospital loomed ahead as you approached, its towering structure illuminated against the evening sky. Anxiety gnawed at your insides, twisting with every step you took through the sterile white halls. You weren’t sure why you felt so on edge—maybe it was the overwhelming sense of inadequacy that had been haunting you lately, or maybe it was the lingering impression of Zayne’s knowing gaze.

At the reception desk, you hesitated, gripping the wallet tightly as you cleared your throat. "Hi, um, I’m here to return something for Dr. Zayne. He… accidentally dropped this."

The receptionist barely looked up, taking the wallet with a polite but indifferent smile. "Dr. Zayne isn’t in right now. I’ll make sure he gets this when he’s back."

"Oh," You nodded, murmuring a quick thanks before retreating back toward the exit. You thought nothing of this interaction as you left. You did what you thought was right and left the hospital back towards your apartment.

The days blurred together in a haze of work and routine. You buried yourself in assignments from the Hunter’s Association, throwing yourself into dangerous missions with a single-minded intensity. Anything to keep your mind occupied.

Sylus messaged you once during that time, his tone professional as he asked for updates regarding a lead he was tracking. You’d responded quickly, sticking strictly to business. No pleasantries, no banter—just the information he needed. He didn’t press, didn’t call you out for your uncharacteristic coldness. Maybe he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and chose not to say anything.

That night, you jogged through the dimly lit streets, your breath fogging in the cool air as you tried to exorcise the restless energy gnawing at you. The rhythmic slap of your sneakers against the pavement was grounding, steady. Jogging had always been your go-to, a way to clear your head and silence the endless stream of "what-ifs" and "if-onlys" that plagued your mind.

But no amount of movement could completely shake Sylus from your thoughts.

His voice, his presence—it clung to you, even now.

Why didn’t he ask how I’ve been? Why didn’t I?

You shook your head, annoyed at yourself. There was no point in dwelling. Sylus wasn’t the kind of person to give you what you wanted, and even if he did, could you trust it? Could you trust him?

The sound of skidding tires yanked you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“Look out!”

Before you could process the warning, a cyclist veered wildly toward you, their momentum too strong to stop. There wasn’t even time to brace yourself. The impact hit like a freight train, and suddenly, you were on the ground, tangled with the bike and its rider. Pain blossomed sharp and hot in your knees as the asphalt scraped them raw.

For a moment, you just lay there, stunned. The world tilted unsteadily, the city lights smearing together like a watercolor painting.

“Hey, you okay?” The cyclist’s voice snapped you back. They were scrambling off you, helmet slightly askew but otherwise unscathed. You shook your head to clear it, wincing as you sat up. You pushed yourself up, shaking the dizziness from your head, and checked on the cyclist who had crashed into you. They were already scrambling to their feet, looking slightly dazed but otherwise unharmed, their helmet and guards having done their job.

“I’m fine,” you managed, even as your knees throbbed in protest. “Are you?”

“Yeah, thanks to the gear,” they said, pulling off their helmet to inspect a small crack along its surface. “Guess it did its job.”

Relief washed over you. “Good. Let me just—”

“Wait.” A different voice cut in, firm but calm. You stood there, still trying to regain your bearings when a figure appeared beside you, moving with a grace that immediately caught your attention. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was. Dr. Zayne. The same man who had crossed your path in the chocolatier's shop just days ago. His sharp eyes locked onto yours, and for a split second, everything else seemed to vanish. His expression shifted from mild surprise to something more concerned as he took in your state.

Without saying a word, he immediately began assessing you, his gaze narrowing at the blood now staining your knees. You winced, feeling the sting of the cuts that had begun to bloom with a fiery intensity, but you were determined not to show it. You were used to pain—used to the sharp discomfort that came with being a hunter. You didn’t need help. You could handle this on your own. You’d always been able to.

But Dr. Zayne wasn’t having any of it.

His voice, low and steady, broke through the haze of your thoughts. "You’re bleeding. Those need first aid," he said firmly, his frown deepening as he glanced at your scraped knees. "Sit. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute."

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him you were fine, but the words caught in your throat. He wasn’t asking. His tone, though gentle, was authoritative—demanding in its own quiet way. There was something about the way he carried himself, that calm, unflinching presence, that made it impossible to argue.

"I’m fine, I am a hunter." you managed to say, your voice rougher than you intended. "I can handle it at home. Really." You tried to force a reassuring smile

“Is this a hunter thing?” he interrupted, one brow arching skeptically. “Are all of you this stubborn about basic care, or is it just you?”

The words should have been biting, but his tone was almost... patient. Like he was accustomed to dealing with difficult people.

You flushed, suddenly hyper-aware of the sting in your knees and the heat of his gaze. “I’m not being stubborn,” you muttered. “I just don’t want to bother anyone over something so small.”

“Small injuries have a way of turning into bigger problems,” he said, folding his arms. “And I’m not bothered. As a doctor, I’m asking you to wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Without waiting for your protest, he turned and strode off, leaving you no room to argue.

You sat stiffly on the bench, gripping the edge as the minutes dragged on. The ache in your knees was nothing compared to the gnawing discomfort blooming in your chest. Anxiety clawed at you, whispering insidious doubts.

He’s wasting his time on you.He probably thinks you’re pathetic and weak.Why couldn’t you have just gotten up and left?

Your fingers curled into fists, the tension radiating through your body.

The sound of footsteps interrupted your spiraling thoughts, and Dr. Zayne was back, carrying a small first aid kit. He knelt in front of you without a word, his hands steady as he cleaned the cuts on your knees. The gentle pressure of his fingers as he worked felt almost surreal. His silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just… calm. You found yourself drawn to it, to the quiet that seemed to settle around him.

"You’re lucky," he said, glancing up at you as he bandaged your knees. "That could’ve been a lot worse."

You nodded, the words caught in your throat. There were so many things you wanted to say, things you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know where to start. So you remained silent, watching as he finished his work, his hands moving with the practiced precision of someone who had seen too many injuries to count.

When he was done, he straightened up and met your gaze. "You should be more careful," he said softly, his voice a little lighter than before, though there was still a note of concern underlying his words. "Next time, don’t run so late at night. You never know what could happen."

You forced a tight smile, the words feeling like they were coming from someone else. "I’ll keep that in mind," you said, your voice quieter now.

Dr. Zayne took a step back after finishing the bandages, his sharp gaze softening ever so slightly as he packed the first aid kit. You glanced at him, your mouth opening to thank him, but before you could get the words out, he said, almost in unison, “Thank you.”

Both of you froze, the simultaneous expressions of gratitude hanging awkwardly in the air. A surprised laugh slipped out of you, breaking the tension.

“You first,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “I was just going to say thank you for… you know, helping with this.” You gestured vaguely toward your knees, the bandages clinging to your skin. “You didn’t have to.”

The moment stretched between you, awkward yet somehow comforting. Zayne gave a small, almost amused smile at the simultaneous gratitude, but his gaze softened when it landed on you, his concern still present.

"Thank you for returning my wallet," he said, his tone steady but with a hint of appreciation.

His words caught you off guard. “Oh, right! That. It wasn’t a big deal, really.” You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, avoiding his gaze. “I found it at the chocolatier shop. I figured it was better to bring it to the hospital than leave it lying around.”

He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “I appreciate it. Not many people would go out of their way like that.”

You tried not to let his kindness throw you off, but it wasn’t easy. There was something about Zayne that made you feel... small in a way you didn’t like to feel. He was kind, yes, but that kindness made you wonder if you were deserving of it. Why should you be the one he cared about?

But before you could dwell on that any further, his voice cut through your swirling thoughts.

"Have you eaten today?" His tone was light, but there was an edge of sincerity beneath it, one that made your stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with hunger. It reminded you of that conversation in the shop, of how he had so effortlessly read through your tiredness.

The sheepish look that crossed your face must’ve been obvious, because Zayne sighed, the sound so deep that it almost felt like a reprimand. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture that was both familiar and surprisingly endearing.

“You’ve got to take care of yourself,” he said, his voice almost too gentle for the weight of his words. “It’s not healthy to go without food, especially if you’re going to keep running around like you hunters do.”

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him it wasn’t a big deal, but Zayne didn’t give you the chance.

"There’s a diner close by. It’s the least I can do to thank you for returning my wallet."

You shook your head instinctively, trying to backpedal. "It’s really not necessary," you said, but Zayne wasn’t having any of it. His eyes were firm, and there was an undeniable warmth behind them that almost made you feel guilty for refusing.

"Yes, it is," he replied, his tone steady but with a hint of finality. "Now, come on.”

You hesitated for a moment, the unease building in your chest like a brick wall, but the thought of Zayne’s calm, commanding presence made it impossible to say no. So, with a quiet sigh, you relented.

"I’ll pay," you muttered as he led the way, the words almost reflexive. You always felt like you had to pay your way—like it was your responsibility to do so, especially with someone who had helped you, even in the smallest of ways. You were used to standing on your own two feet.

Zayne only gave you a side glance, his lips quirking up in the barest of smiles. "No, you won’t. It’s my thank you, remember?"

The diner wasn’t far from where you had been, a cozy, low-lit place with a soft hum of quiet conversations and the clink of silverware against plates. The familiar scent of warm food—steak, mashed potatoes, and the unmistakable aroma of fresh bread—immediately filled the air as you stepped inside. You followed Zayne to a small booth in the back, the vinyl seats creaking under your weight as you slid in.

You wanted to say something—thank you, maybe—but the words felt stuck, trapped somewhere in the pit of your stomach, along with everything else that had been piling up for weeks. Zayne didn’t seem to notice, his focus already turning to the menu as he gestured for you to pick something.

You wanted to ask him more, to understand him in the same way you understood the empty streets you ran through, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just end up looking foolish. So, instead, you stared at the menu in front of you, unable to focus on the choices, as your mind churned with questions that had no answers.

Zayne ordered for both of you, his voice low as he made his choices, and when he looked at you, you caught a flicker of something—perhaps curiosity, or was it concern? It was hard to tell.

"You should eat more regularly," he said again, as though the words were a reminder he had to repeat for his own peace of mind. You nodded, letting the silence fill the space between you for a moment.

The food arrived, warm and satisfying, and you took a bite, surprised at how hungry you were despite the earlier denials. Zayne watched you for a moment, his gaze softening as you ate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. His concern, his care—it felt too much. You weren’t used to people worrying about you.

But as the meal went on, you found yourself starting to relax, the initial tension loosening from your shoulders. Zayne was easy to talk to, his calm, steady presence settling you in a way you hadn’t expected. By the end of the meal, you felt... lighter.

"Call me Zayne," he said when the check came, his voice quiet but sincere.

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the request. "Zayne?" you echoed, testing the name on your tongue.

"Yes," he replied with a small, patient smile. "It’s easier than 'Dr. Zayne,' don’t you think?"

You blinked, taken aback. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve earned the title—”

“And I’ll still have it in the hospital,” he interrupted, amusement flickering in his eyes. “But here, it’s just Zayne.”

You nodded slowly, testing the name in your mind. It felt strange, almost too personal. But there was something grounding about it, too.

By the time dessert arrived, the knot of anxiety in your chest had loosened considerably. The warmth of the diner, the steady cadence of his voice, and the shared laughter over a poorly made joke had a way of pulling you out of your own head. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you weren’t obsessing over your failures or doubts.

As you finished your meal, Zayne pulled out his phone and slid it across the table. “Here,” he said simply. “Add your number. In case you ever need anything.”

You hesitated, the gesture feeling far more intimate than it probably was. But his expression was patient, expectant, and you found yourself entering your contact information before you could overthink it. When you handed the phone back, his lips twitched into a faint smile.

“Thanks again for returning my wallet,” he said, his tone lighter now. “And for the company.”

You felt your cheeks flush, but this time, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “It’s not a problem,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

As you stepped out of the diner and into the cool night air, a strange sense of calm settled over you. Zayne walked you to the corner where your paths would diverge, his presence steady and reassuring.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice softer now, almost intimate.

“You too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The diner’s warmth lingered even as you stepped into the cool night air. For the first time in what felt like weeks, your chest didn’t feel as tight, the oppressive weight that had been bearing down on you now lifting slightly. You still felt the ache of Sylus’ absence—a hollow, gnawing sensation that seemed to creep in whenever you let your guard down, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been. Instead, a new sensation fluttered in its place, tentative and fragile: excitement. It was strange to feel this way, to look forward to the possibility of a friendship formed under such unlikely circumstances. Zayne’s calm demeanor, his steady presence, had surprised you.

As you walked, the sound of fluttering wings caught your attention. Instinctively, your heart skipped, your mind jumping to Mephisto. You tilted your head to the dark sky, half-expecting to see the telltale silhouette of his familiar. But it was just a cluster of pigeons, their wings catching the faint glow of the streetlights as they soared away.

Right. Of course. It was unlikely that Sylus was watching you tonight.

You exhaled, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and forced your thoughts away from him. Zayne had offered you a rare moment of normalcy, and you weren’t about to let your memories of Sylus overshadow that.

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The following weeks were a blur of activity, and before long, you found yourself stationed at an outpost on the outskirts of Linkon. A metaflux surge had disrupted the area, and the temporary makeshift hospital was bustling with injured workers, hunters, and even a few civilians caught in the chaos. The air was thick with tension, the metallic tang of metaflux faint but persistent, a reminder of the unseen dangers that lurked just beyond the safety of the encampment.

Zayne was assigned as the doctor for the outpost, and you often found yourself crossing paths with him. At first, your interactions were brief—a nod here, a shared glance there—but over time, you began to talk. It started with simple pleasantries, discussions about the metaflux readings or the influx of patients, but it wasn’t long before the conversations deepened.

You learned that Zayne had a dry sense of humor, his sharp wit often catching you off guard. He’d tease you about your stubbornness, and you’d retort with a quip about his overly serious nature. Despite his professionalism, there was a warmth to him, a quiet compassion that made him easy to trust. And though you’d never admit it, you found yourself looking forward to those moments of shared laughter, those fleeting glimpses of something lighter amidst the chaos.

But even as your friendship with Zayne grew, Sylus lingered at the edges of your thoughts, a shadow you couldn’t quite shake. The conversations you had with him were sparse and strictly work-related—updates from the Association, bits of intel you passed along to him. It felt transactional, a far cry from the intimacy you once shared. Yet, every time his name appeared on your screen, your heart still raced, betraying the fragile boundaries you’d tried to set.

One evening, a message from Sylus broke the monotony of your routine.

‘Come over tomorrow night, Darling. I have an exquisite wine I’d like you to try—procured it during a recent deal.’

The invitation was simple, almost casual. For a moment, you imagined it—the rich scent of wine filling the air, his sharp yet alluring gaze fixed on you as he poured you a glass. But reality quickly crept in, dragging you back to the present. You couldn’t go. You couldn’t risk it. Not when your heart was still so fragile, still aching in ways you didn’t want to admit.

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as your mind raced. The truth was, you wanted to see him. But you knew better. You had to keep your distance—for your own sake, if nothing else.

‘I’m tired..'

You typed, the words feeling hollow as they formed.

'Busy day tomorrow. Maybe another time.’

You hesitated before hitting send, the weight of the message pressing down on you. When his reply came, it was as simple as his invitation.

‘Okay.’

The finality of it hit you like a brick, and for a moment, you felt like your breath had been stolen away. He didn’t push. He didn’t argue. That empty “okay” hung in the air, leaving you with the quiet realization that, once again, you had lost yourself in the haze of someone else’s world.

You tried not to read too much into it, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had already moved on. That he didn’t care enough to fight for your attention. Instead, it felt like you were just a passing thought, like an aftertaste that wasn’t worth savoring.

Miss Hunter. The words echoed in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears to stay behind your eyelids, but they pressed hard, a sting that never seemed to fully fade. You rubbed your forehead, trying to push away the thoughts. But even as you did, you couldn’t escape the suffocating feeling in your chest—the one that always came when you were reminded of how little you meant to him. You felt foolish, but you couldn’t help it. It was like you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to come back, to pull you back into his orbit with that practiced charm, that voice that made you feel wanted, if only for a little while.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dinner with Zayne had been a welcome reprieve. It had been two weeks since you last saw him, the demands of work pulling both of you in different directions. But tonight, seated across from him in a small, cozy bistro, you found solace in the familiar rhythm of your conversations. The mellow lights softened the sharp angles of his face as he recounted a mishap earlier in the week involving a particularly irritable patient.

His dry humor, paired with the subtle lift of his brow, drew a laugh from you—a genuine, light sound that felt foreign after the weight of recent days. For a while, the world outside blurred away. You weren’t Miss Hunter; you weren’t anything other than a person sharing a meal with a friend.

As the meal wound down, Zayne looked at you over the rim of his glass, his expression calm. “You’re doing better than when we first met.” he remarked softly.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Am I?”

He nodded. His calm demeanor always had a way of grounding you, and tonight was no exception.

The meal wrapped up with the two of you trading small updates and light banter. You paid for your half of the meal, Zayne insisting it wasn’t necessary, but you’d insisted back. There was a sense of normalcy here, something you weren’t willing to let go of easily. When you parted ways outside the diner, the night air was cool and quiet. Zayne’s warm farewell echoed softly in your ears as you waved goodbye and headed back toward your apartment.

As you walked, you felt lighter somehow. The stress of the past few weeks hadn’t vanished, but Zayne’s steady presence had reminded you of something important—moments of peace still existed, even in the chaos.

The faint scent of lavender greeted you as you unlocked your apartment door, a hint of the candle you’d left burning earlier. The lights were off, and the air felt too still—unnaturally so. Your heart skipped, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. A lump formed in your throat, panic curling its fingers around your chest.

You flicked the light switch, and the sudden brightness flooded the room, revealing the figure sitting on your couch. Sylus.

You froze. Your body stiffened, caught between fight or flight.

Your yelp of surprise filled the space, your pulse racing as you clutched the doorframe for support. “What—Sylus? What are you doing here?”

He was sitting on your couch, one arm draped casually along the backrest, his other hand resting on his knee. The dim light of the room softened the sharp edges of his face, but his expression was anything but gentle. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, tracked your every movement as if he were dissecting you with just a glance.

“How—what are you doing here?” you stammered, your voice shaky as your pulse raced.

Sylus didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze dragging over you slowly, deliberately. His silence was louder than any words he could have spoken, and it made your skin prickle.

“Darling,” he finally murmured, his voice low and smooth, laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “You look… exhausted.”

You blinked, still standing frozen by the door. His tone was soft, almost tender, but it was the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers tapped against his knee, that betrayed his underlying tension.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your voice wavering as you took a cautious step forward. “It’s been a long day. What are you doing here?”

Sylus leaned back, the leather of the couch creaking faintly under his weight. “A long day,” he echoed, his lips curving into a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yet you had time for dinner.”

“I…” you faltered, scrambling for a response. “It was just…”

“Just dinner,” he interrupted smoothly, his tone unreadable. “With… someone else.”

The air felt thick, charged with a tension that made your skin prickle. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat. His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still calm but his body language telling a different story. The way his fingers drummed against his knee, the slight clench of his jaw, the flicker of something dark in his gaze.

Your heart pounded, your thoughts racing. Why was he here? What did he want? And why did his presence—his very existence in your space—make your chest ache in that familiar, suffocating way?

“I didn’t think…” You stopped yourself, your voice trembling. “You didn’t say you’d be coming by. You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft as he rose from the couch, his movements fluid and deliberate. “Show up to see what’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his height and presence suddenly overwhelming. “Nothing’s wrong…”you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Is that so?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, his eyes boring into yours. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’ve been avoiding me, Darling.”

The accusation hung in the air, sharp and unyielding.

“I’ve been busy…” you said weakly, your voice lacking conviction.

“Busy,” he repeated, his gaze flicking over you again, this time with something close to disdain. “Too busy for me, but not too busy for… him.”

Your hands fidgeted at your sides, your breath coming in shallow bursts. You wanted to move, to put distance between you, but your legs felt rooted to the spot. “I didn’t think dinner with a friend would..”

“Friend?” he interrupted, the single word slicing through your sentence. His lips curved into something that might have been a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs, the anxiety swirling in your chest mixing with something else—something raw and painful that you didn’t want to name. The memories of your last exchange with Sylus came flooding back—the curt messages, the unspoken finality of his “okay.” You had tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you didn’t need his validation. But standing here now, under the weight of his gaze, you felt every crack in the fragile walls you had built to keep him out.

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” you said finally, the words trembling as they left your lips.

His eyes softened slightly, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, something important, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a gesture so gentle it felt almost foreign.

“Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability that made your chest ache.

Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you. The words echoed in your mind, repeating, twisting, until all you could hear was the raw edge of betrayal laced in his tone.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and bitter, a little too loud in the quiet of your apartment. Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you felt the space around you grow smaller. You couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. All you could feel was the heat of anger building inside of you, raw and unrefined.

“That’s rich,” you scoffed, finally managing to find your voice. “That’s really rich, coming from you of all people.”

Sylus blinked, a subtle flash of surprise crossing his face, but it quickly masked over. His lips tightened, his brow furrowed ever so slightly, but it wasn’t enough. You had to push, you couldn’t hold back now. The words were tumbling out before you could even stop them. Your breath hitched, a strangled sob lodged somewhere in the back of your throat, but you refused to let it spill. You wouldn’t let him see you break—not like this, not in front of him. You knew the truth. He knew the truth. It hurt, yes, but you weren’t the one to blame.

“You've been treating me like a stranger for months,” you continued, your voice trembling with anger you hadn't fully realized was there. “Barely responding to my messages, not answering my calls, and when I do see you, it’s like you can’t be bothered. You don’t even see me.” You felt the weight of every unreturned message, every unanswered call, every promise left in limbo. “I’ve had to hear from Luke and Kieran that you’re in Linkon. But you couldn’t even make time to see me.”

You felt the ache deep in your chest, that familiar, suffocating knot forming. He didn’t deserve your pain. Not anymore. You wouldn’t let him have that. Not this time.

You took a shaky breath, suddenly feeling raw, exposed. “You don’t have to feel obligated to check on me, Sylus,” you said, your words clipped and cutting through the thick silence between you. “You don’t have to feel pity for me. I know where I stand. I know my place in your life.”

His expression, that unreadable mask, cracked for the briefest of moments. His lips parted, his gaze flicking to your face, then back down to the floor. His jaw clenched. But his eyes… They weren’t the same as they’d been earlier. The hardness was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous, something even more intimate. The storm was gathering, but it wasn’t just in the air—no, it was inside him too.

“You know where you stand?” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it, a slight tightness you hadn’t noticed before. He took a step forward, his body closing the space between you, like a wave of raw energy crashing toward you. His proximity only made your pulse race faster, but you couldn’t back down. Not now.

“I’m just an informant, right?” you bit out, every word feeling like it sliced through the night air, cutting through the tension like a blade. “You don’t have to pretend you care, Sylus. So don’t stand there with that look on your face like I’m some important thing you need to check on.”

The air between you grew heavy, thick with unsaid words and stifled tension. Every inch of your body was telling you to get away, to shut down, to stop this before it tore you apart. But your feet felt heavy, stuck in place. Sylus’s presence was like gravity, pulling you toward him.

"You think that's all you are?" he murmured, his voice dangerously low, like the calm before the thunder. The way he said it made your heart stutter in your chest. It was both a question and an accusation or a challenge.

But there was something else in his voice. Something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were intense, too intense, and they searched yours like he was looking for the answer. The truth.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he continued, his words clipped, as though they were difficult for him to say. “But I couldn’t....couldn’t make sense of it. Of you.”

It was the first time that he seemed genuinely vulnerable, and it left you breathless and confused. You had always wondered if there was more beneath his cold exterior. You had always told yourself that he cared. But you had never dared to confront him.

His hand was close enough now to reach out, his fingers barely brushing the edge of your wrist. The air between you was still thick with everything unsaid, everything unhealed. And yet, despite the words that had been thrown between you, there was something undeniably magnetic in the tension. The ache in your chest, the rawness, the feelings of betrayal—they didn’t wash away just because you said them out loud.

God, you hated him for this.

But part of you yearned for him. That part that still felt tethered to him, despite the distance.

Sylus’s fingers hovered over your wrist, his touch like fire against your skin. For a moment, the storm between you calmed, leaving only the faintest echo of it behind. The weight of his gaze, the force of his presence—it seemed to drown out the rest of the world.

He said nothing for a moment, his lips parting as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. His eyes darkened further, not with anger now, but with something you couldn’t quite define.

You took a breath, your body suddenly feeling too small beneath his gaze. The storm was still inside. You had to move away. Your heart pounded as if it were trying to escape your chest, desperate to flee from whatever was stirring inside you. You couldn't—no, you wouldn’t—let yourself get caught up in whatever this feeling was. You were not some fool, ready to throw everything away for the temporary pull of his presence. You knew better than that. You had to.

Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to put some distance between you and the mess of emotions bubbling under your skin. His sharp gaze was enough to make your knees tremble, and it took everything in you not to look back, not to let him see the quiet devastation that flickered inside you.

“You need to leave… Sylus.” You whispered. You staggered back a few steps, your breathing shallow, desperate. Your feet felt like lead, yet you forced yourself to walk away. You turned your back to him, willing your legs to move, hoping to escape before you got sucked into whatever dark vortex of feelings he was drawing you into.

He didn’t move. Instead, you heard the familiar click of his boots against the floor as he took a single, deliberate step forward. “Why?” His voice, low and curious, sent a shiver down your spine. It was almost too intimate, as if he were searching for a piece of you, trying to understand what you couldn’t explain.

You didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to see the quiet confusion on his face—the faint flicker of disappointment that stung like salt in an open wound. You couldn’t let him see your weakness, couldn’t let him know how badly it hurt to be around him, how badly it hurt not to be around him.

“Is it so you can run back to your precious ‘friend’?” The words dripped with something unspoken, something that made your stomach twist.

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t. Not when his voice—that voice, the one that threaded through the air like silk—was digging into your mind like this. The word echoed in your ears, almost mocking you, and you felt something fragile snap inside you. The weight of the years you’d spent keeping distance, of guarding your heart against him, against whatever he made you feel, started to unravel. But you couldn’t let it.

You took another step away from him. One more step, you told yourself. Just one more. You didn’t need this.

Dark tendrils wrapped around you as you move, pulling you back. He was using his evol to pull you back. You didn’t need him pulling you in again. But then it came. That touch. He pulled you to him, forceful yet intimate, and your breath caught in your throat. You were too close. Too close to the edge of losing yourself, of falling into his presence.

His hands...no, his fingers—snaked around your waist before you even knew what was happening. You gasped, body going stiff in surprise, but his grip tightened, pulling you back into him. You tried to keep moving, tried to pull away, but it was useless. His hold was ironclad, his presence consuming. His grip tightened slightly, but there was an almost comforting pressure there, a subtle reminder that despite the dispute between you, there was something undeniable between the two of you.

“Why are you running?” His voice was a whisper against your ear, the words smooth like silk, but there was something jagged beneath them—something urgent, raw.

You struggled to hold yourself together, but the more you fought it, the more it pulled—this unbearable need to lean into him, to give in to the chaos that his proximity stirred in you. You knew you shouldn’t, but everything in you wanted to. You felt the ache of wanting something you couldn't have, the sting of the distance you had put between you and the thing that was somehow both poison and relief.

His hands tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your ribs in a movement that sent a jolt through your entire system. The words you wanted to say, the reasons you needed to get away from him, all felt so small and pointless now. How could you possibly explain this? This tension, this pull? How could you say that being near him felt like the most excruciating thing in the world, but also the only thing that made you feel alive?

“You’re not just an informant to me,” he breathed, his words slipping under your skin, curling into the tight spaces of your chest. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you this much. That you’d want to distance yourself from me...” His tone softened at the end, but it only made everything worse. The tenderness in his voice—his tenderness—was like a dagger in your side, making the blood in your veins freeze. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could hear was the deafening rush of your own heartbeat. You tried to stay composed, but the words were caught in your throat, and your body was still pressed so tightly against his, your breath shallow, your pulse thudding painfully against your ribs.

Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t you just say it—say that you couldn’t let him get close again? That you couldn’t survive another wound, another aching, empty feeling in your chest because of him? But the way his hands tightened, the warmth of his body against yours, made everything you were feeling a little too real.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back, the rhythm in sync with your own, and the pull of him was growing stronger. You could feel your anxiety bubbling up, the gnawing fear at the pit of your stomach. Was this just him toying with you? Was he trying to pull you into his world of darkness and manipulation? Or did he really care?

Your head was spinning. The emotions warred within you—anger, confusion, guilt, and something else. Something that made your heart race faster and your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

“Let me go,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm that raged around you.

But you didn’t pull away. You didn’t push him off.

Sylus' grip on you tightened, his arm like a steel band around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His chest rises and falls against your back as his breath brushes against your ear, warm and heavy. It’s as if he’s afraid, like if he lets go for even a second, he’ll lose you forever. You can feel the tension radiating from him, but also something softer, something desperate.

“No, Darling,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with emotion, his tone possessive, as though the very idea of you slipping away shatters him. “You’re not going anywhere and neither am I.”

"You’re going to stay," He pulls you even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks again, quieter this time, but laced with something raw and vulnerable. "...and you’re going to listen to me. I won’t let you walk away from this."

You can hear the flicker of something beneath his words—regret. And then, his lips ghost over the sensitive skin of your neck, lingering just a little longer than necessary. He slowly spins you around, to face him. His voice softens, almost apologetic. “I know I was a dick. I know I didn’t respond to you, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know how to handle it… handle us. It confused me, and instead of facing it, I pushed you away.” His breath catches slightly, and you feel his chest tighten against your back.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, tilting your face slightly toward him, his thumb brushing over your skin as though it’s a promise, an apology. The weight of his gaze is intense, but there’s also something tender there, something that wants to pull you back in, closer. “I know you’re still hurting, darling. I see it. And I... I’ll spend a lifetime making up for it, because that’s what I want. A lifetime. With you. Not as some informant or some... thing, but as my beloved. You. By my side. Always.”

He pauses, letting his words hang in the air between you. His voice drops, the quiet sorrow of his confession sending a twinge of guilt through you. "I don’t have the right to ask this of you, I know," Sylus continues, his voice thick with emotion. "But seeing you push me away… It’s harder than I ever thought it would be. Harder than I want to admit." He presses his forehead lightly against your temple, his breath shaky. "I’ve never needed someone the way I need you, and I didn’t know how to tell you that. But I do. I need you."

You can feel him tense slightly, the shift in his demeanor telling you that his thoughts have turned darker. His voice lowers, the jealousy evident in the way he speaks, though it’s wrapped in a softness that almost makes it harder to bear.

"And Dr. Zayne... I can’t stand the thought of him being so close to you," Sylus adds, his voice low and thick with a possessiveness that unsettles you in its intensity. "It kills me, you know? Watching him with you, hearing you laugh like that with him, as if I don’t even exist." His arm tightens again, almost painfully, as if he needs to remind you, remind both of you, where you truly belong. "I know I have no claim on you... but... I can't help but feel like there’s a part of you that wants him in a way that... I can't compete with." His voice hardens, jealousy dripping from every word. "It eats at me, knowing he has a part of you that I’m fighting for."

"Sylus..." Your voice cracked slightly as you repeated his name, your breath hitching, caught in the tension between you. His name felt heavy on your tongue, like it was both a question and an answer. You had never said it so quietly, so vulnerably. The memories of earlier came rushing back—him with her, that delicate smile he gave her, the way she leaned into him just a little too comfortably. It had burned in your chest, the jealousy creeping in with a venomous ache.

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, too fast to gather, too painful to hide. "I felt the same... when I saw you with her," you confessed, swallowing thickly. "I felt so... so useless, Sylus. When I saw you with her, it felt like... like she was everything you needed. Better than me. And that... it broke me, Sylus. I felt like I wasn’t enough, like I wasn’t... worth it.”

The words stung, bitter and unrelenting, but the weight of them was finally lifted as you let them spill out. You felt exposed, naked in your insecurity, but somehow, it was all you could do to stand there and wait for him to respond. You could feel the weight of it, of how small you’d felt in that moment, how unworthy you had become in your own eyes. The self-doubt gnawed at your insides, each thought of her with him twisting like a knife in your gut.

Sylus’s expression softened, his features melting into a tender sadness, as though he were seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you. His hand reached out slowly, almost hesitantly, as if afraid to shatter the fragile space between you. His touch was a gentle comfort, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his voice a low whisper, "Darling, you're none of that... none of it, I swear."

You shook your head, feeling the tears threatening, but you couldn’t let them fall, not yet. His words were kind, but the ache in your chest was still there, an unhealed wound.

He continued, his voice steady but thick with something deeper. "I didn’t know you felt that way... about her, in the same way I feel about Zayne." His gaze met yours, and for the first time tonight, it wasn’t uncertain. It was so gentle, so soft, tender. "But you need to know, you're it for me, Darling…" he murmured, his fingers curling around yours, grounding you in the quiet storm of your emotions. "Yes, I want help from her, but..." He paused, as if weighing his words carefully, "...I need you more." His words were a balm to the wounds that had festered within you, but the tenderness in his eyes was what finally reached you. His hand slid down to your shoulder, his thumb grazing the skin there. His warmth surrounded you, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of his words. The jealousy, the insecurity that had burned so fiercely in you when you saw him with her, melted in the face of the tenderness he was offering now.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself as your heart raced, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming. “Zayne… Zayne’s just a friend,” you said, your voice fragile but firm, “someone who helped me... helped me see past the stuff in my head. After everything, I just... needed someone to remind me that I’m not broken.”

Sylus's eyes softened even more, the depth of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. He nodded slowly, his expression filled with understanding. The tension between you didn’t disappear entirely, but it was now laced with something more tender. More real.

“You’re not broken, Darling.” he repeated, and there was a quiet strength in his voice, something that made you believe him more than you ever had before. “You’re everything I’ve ever needed... and more.”

"I... I’m sorry," you whispered, a lump in your throat as you looked up at him. "I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t care. I just... I was afraid you’d choose her over me."

Sylus’s fingers brushed against the nape of your neck, pulling you closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "You never have to apologize for that, Darling." he murmured, his voice warm, his breath mingling with yours. “It was my fault and I accept that.”

The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of your breathing, as Sylus stood before you, his face drawn with intensity. The flickering light from the lamp cast soft shadows across his features, but his gaze... his gaze was sharp, focused entirely on you.

"I love you, Darling" he said, his words lingering in the air as though they were the first time he had allowed himself to say them out loud. "I’m in love with you," he confessed, his voice steady despite the raw emotion that tinged it. "I’ve been in love with you for a while now, and I’ve tried to deny it. Tried to hide it from you and myself, but I can’t anymore. I won’t. I love you, and I need you to know that."

The breath you hadn’t realized you were holding caught in your throat. Everything in you froze, then splintered. The confession, so pure, so vulnerable, hit you with a force you hadn’t been prepared for. You stood there, unable to move, a mix of surprise and relief flooding your chest.

He loves you. Sylus. The one you had longed for, yearned, and hoped for in silence. Your heart stuttered in your chest, the world around you growing impossibly still.

"I…" you whispered, voice trembling, and you had to stop, had to steady yourself before the words could spill from your lips. "I’ve love you too," you said, your voice barely more than a breath, but it carried all the weight of everything you had kept inside. "I’ve loved you, and I never told you because I was afraid. Afraid that I was asking too much. Afraid of the rejection. Afraid that I wasn’t enough."

Sylus’s expression softened, his lips curling into a frown as he stepped forward, closing the space between you. His hands reached for you, but not in the way you had feared or expected. They were gentle, his touch a plea for understanding. "Oh, darling," he whispered, shaking his head slowly. "I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you ever felt like you needed to hide it from me."

He reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek, and you flinched slightly, your emotions suddenly overwhelming you, raw and untamed. "We’re both idiots," he continued, his voice almost tender with the weight of the admission. "We’ve been skirting around each other, afraid of saying the one thing we both needed to say."

Your laugh came out soft, almost fragile, the tension in your chest breaking for the first time since Sylus had walked into your home. It was a quiet sound, but it was the first time you’d laughed all night, the first time you’d allowed yourself to feel something other than fear or uncertainty in the past few weeks with him involved. But that laugh didn’t last long. As soon as it came, the tears followed, the ones you had been holding back for so long, finally slipping free. The dam you had built up crumbled, and before you could stop them, hot tears streamed down your face. before you could even reach up to brush them away, his hand was there, steady and warm against your cheek.

"Don’t," you whispered, your voice thick with the ache you could no longer hide. "Please, don’t look at me like this. I’m—"

"Stop," Sylus interrupted softly, his hand holding yours gently, his gaze unwavering. "Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of you… everything you’ve been hiding. I know you think I don’t see it, but I do." His eyes locked onto yours with such intensity that you couldn’t look away. "I see it when you think I’m not watching. I see the way you pull back, the way you hide the parts of you that you think I can’t handle. But I am looking. I’ve always been looking. And I don’t want you to hide anymore. Not from me. And I’m here and I want all of you."

His words were a medicine to the parts of you that had been bruised, the parts that had feared being exposed, vulnerable. But in his eyes, there was only love. No judgment. No pity. Just... love. And it was enough. It was more than enough.

The tears that had slipped down your face slowed, but they didn’t stop. You didn’t try to wipe them away this time, allowing yourself to be seen for the first time in ages. The sobs that followed were soft but trembled with relief, with something finally breaking open inside of you.

Sylus’s arms were around you in an instant, pulling you close, holding you in the kind of embrace that made you feel as though you could finally breathe, as though the weight of everything you had been carrying could finally be set down.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, almost broken. "I’ve been so scared, Sylus. Scared of this, of being cast away... of losing you."

"You’ll never lose me, Darling." he murmured, his voice firm and unwavering as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You tilted your head back slightly, your face still damp with the remnants of the tears that had fallen, and through your wet lashes, you searched his face. Sylus held you close, his arms wrapped around you in a way that made you feel safe, even as the doubts lingered in your heart. You wanted to believe him, but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, buried deep beneath the surface.

He must have seen it in your eyes, the way you still hesitated, the uncertainty you couldn't quite shake. Sylus made a half-frustrated sound in the back of his throat, his hands tightening around you for a split second, before they slid up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek again, a tender, pleading touch, before he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a sudden, urgent kiss.

The kiss was unlike any other. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t soft. It was intense, filled with desperation, as though he needed you to understand just how deeply he felt for you, just how much you meant to him. His hands cupped your face, holding you as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment, as if the world had stopped turning just for you. His lips pressed against yours with a kind of fire, but it wasn’t angry, no. It was passionate, desperate in its own way, like he wanted you to feel how important you were to him, how much you had been wanted, loved.

Your hands trembled as they reached up, gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting to bridge the distance between you, as though the kiss itself could erase every lingering doubt in your heart. Your breath hitched when you felt his pulse quicken under your touch, his heartbeat matching the frantic pace of your own. Each breath you took seemed to echo in the stillness of the room, mingling with the heat of his kiss, our lips moving together with a quiet urgency, the world beyond the two of you fading into a distant blur. You felt everything—every brush of his fingers, every subtle shift of his body against yours, the way his chest rose and fell beneath your palms, how his breath felt against your lips as if he couldn’t get close enough to you.

Your chests rose and fell together, the world spinning around you. You could feel the heat of him, the urgency that still lingered in his touch, the way he kept you close, almost as if he were afraid to let go.

Breathing became an afterthought, both of you gasping for air when the kiss broke, but neither of you pulled far enough away to lose the connection. Sylus’s forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispered, voice still heavy with emotion. “Every day, from henceforth, I will work to make sure you never feel the need to doubt yourself. Not in my life. Not with me." His words, slow and deliberate, sank deep into your heart like a promise he would keep.

The intensity of the moment hung between you both, the room still, save for the soft sound of your breathing as you both slowly came back to reality. But in his eyes, you saw nothing but certainty—certainty that you were enough. That you always had been.

His hand found yours again, fingers weaving with yours, and he gave it a gentle squeeze, as if the simple touch was a quiet reassurance.

"You are everything to me," he murmured, his voice steady now, grounding you as much as his embrace. "And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing his words, his warmth, his certainty. In his arms, you could feel the truth of his promise, somewhere deep inside, the doubts began to fade.

For the first time in a long time, you believed him. And when he kissed you again, this time softer, it was like the beginning of something new.

[ A disclaimer note - Please be respectful of the request ]

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

If you like my work, you can buy me a Ko-fi. (Tips are not expected, so don't feel pressured to do so.)

[theplotmage]

Principles and Laws of Magic for Fantasy Writers

Fundamental Laws

1. Law of Conservation of Magic- Magic cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed.

3. Law of Equivalent Exchange- To gain something, an equal value must be given.

5. Law of Magical Exhaustion- Using magic drains the user’s energy or life force.

Interaction and Interference

4. Law of Magical Interference- Magic can interfere with other magical effects.

6. Law of Magical Contamination- Magic can have unintended side effects.

8. Law of Magical Inertia- Magical effects continue until stopped by an equal or greater force.

Resonance and Conditions

7. Law of Magical Resonance- Magic resonates with certain materials, places, or times.

9. Law of Magical Secrecy- Magic must be kept secret from the non-magical world.

11. Law of Magical Hierarchy- Different types of magic have different levels of power and difficulty.

Balance and Consequences

10. Law of Magical Balance- Every positive magical effect has a negative consequence.

12. Law of Magical Limitation- Magic has limits and cannot solve every problem.

14. Law of Magical Rebound- Misused magic can backfire on the user.

Special Conditions

13. Law of Magical Conduits- Certain objects or beings can channel magic more effectively.

15. Law of Magical Cycles- Magic may be stronger or weaker depending on cycles (e.g., lunar phases).

17. Law of Magical Awareness- Some beings are more attuned to magic and can sense its presence.

Ethical and Moral Laws

16. Law of Magical Ethics- Magic should be used responsibly and ethically.

18. Law of Magical Consent- Magic should not be used on others without their consent.

20. Law of Magical Oaths- Magical promises or oaths are binding and have severe consequences if broken.

Advanced and Rare Laws

19. Law of Magical Evolution- Magic can evolve and change over time.

20. Law of Magical Singularities- Unique, one-of-a-kind magical phenomena exist and are unpredictable.

Unique and Imaginative Magical Laws

- Law of Temporal Magic- Magic can manipulate time, but with severe consequences. Altering the past can create paradoxes, and using time magic ages the caster rapidly.

- Law of Emotional Resonance- Magic is amplified or diminished by the caster’s emotions. Strong emotions like love or anger can make spells more powerful but harder to control.

- Law of Elemental Harmony- Magic is tied to natural elements (fire, water, earth, air). Using one element excessively can disrupt the balance and cause natural disasters.

- Law of Dream Magic- Magic can be accessed through dreams. Dreamwalkers can enter others’ dreams, but they risk getting trapped in the dream world.

- Law of Ancestral Magic- Magic is inherited through bloodlines. The strength and type of magic depend on the caster’s ancestry, and ancient family feuds can influence magical abilities.

- Law of Symbiotic Magic- Magic requires a symbiotic relationship with magical creatures. The caster and creature share power, but harming one affects the other.

- Law of Forgotten Magic- Ancient spells and rituals are lost to time. Discovering and using forgotten magic can yield great power but also unknown dangers.

- Law of Magical Echoes- Spells leave behind echoes that can be sensed or traced. Powerful spells create stronger echoes that linger longer.

- Law of Arcane Geometry- Magic follows geometric patterns. Spells must be cast within specific shapes or alignments to work correctly.

- Law of Celestial Magic- Magic is influenced by celestial bodies. Spells are stronger during certain astronomical events like eclipses or planetary alignments.

- Law of Sentient Magic- Magic has a will of its own. It can choose to aid or hinder the caster based on its own mysterious motives.

- Law of Shadow Magic- Magic can manipulate shadows and darkness. Shadowcasters can travel through shadows but are vulnerable to light.

- Law of Sympathetic Magic- Magic works through connections. A spell cast on a representation of a person (like a doll or portrait) affects the actual person.

- Law of Magical Artifacts- Certain objects hold immense magical power. These artifacts can only be used by those deemed worthy or who possess specific traits.

- Law of Arcane Paradoxes- Some spells create paradoxes that defy logic. These paradoxes can have unpredictable and often dangerous outcomes.

- Law of Elemental Fusion- Combining different elemental magics creates new, hybrid spells with unique properties and effects.

- Law of Ethereal Magic- Magic can interact with the spirit world. Ethereal mages can communicate with spirits, but prolonged contact can blur the line between life and death.

- Law of Arcane Symbiosis- Magic can bond with technology, creating magical machines or enchanted devices with extraordinary capabilities.

- Law of Dimensional Magic- Magic can open portals to other dimensions. Dimensional travelers can explore alternate realities but risk getting lost or encountering hostile beings.

- Law of Arcane Sacrifice- Powerful spells require a sacrifice, such as a cherished memory, a personal item, or even a part of the caster’s soul.