#for whatever reason i latched onto looking forward to it during a really rough time

[lo-sulci]

you know, if absolutely nothing else, p5r is absolutely the game that i have the strongest feelings about

[mrskurono]

Schweiden Sex Education: Foreplay || Wakatoshi Ushijima x Fem!Reader

Tags: heavy petting, adult alcohol consumption, dry humping, oral (receiving), premature ejaculation, slight teasing, fingering

Character(s): Wakatoshi Ushijima

Word Count: 4.3k

a/n: I won’t admit I was literally mostly done with this.

part (1) (3)

fore·play /ˈfôrˌplā/ 

noun; sexual activity that precedes intercourse

No one knew. And no one needed to know. 

This was a private lesson that would lead well into the evening. For all the things you could think to ‘teach’ first. The most important one was foreplay. Maybe though, as you watched the man across the dinner table with a soft look, you might admit to living through your own fantasies. He wanted you and you never wanted anything more in your life.

Ironically not your idea. Dinner together seemed more like a date than a bargaining chip before sex between the two of you. The stark reality was you would have fucked in the locker room but something kept you from dumping it all on him all at once. 

Maybe it was the expression that evening in the empty locker room. Those stoic features tinted with blush unlike anything you’ve seen on his face in the past two years. That made your heart jump into your throat. Ushiwaka hadn’t even grabbed your head like any of your exes would when they tried to forcibly cum in your mouth. Instead he let you go at your pace and it was truthfully the most turned you’d been turned on ever giving head.

Stopping yourself there you had kissed him a little more though. Indulging in the feeling of his lips finally against yours. That seemed mutual though as Ushiwaka was a quick learner to at least wrap his arms around your torso every time your lips met. 

It was hard when you had to pull away. If you didn’t stop there then you wouldn’t have stopped at all. 

“I should go but...” Even though your lips had just been wrapped around his dick, now you suddenly felt the heat creep up your cheeks, “...I’d like to spend more time together. I mean- Anything really you want if you just wanna...do it I guess...or we could do something else first.”

“Dinner,” Ushiwaka kind of blurted out. He looked away like he normally did but this time it seemed a little more of a hesitant embarrassment about what just happened, “...Or anything, food wise. I heard you go on dates before hand...”

Wondering if he got that by his own doing or is one of the team members put that in his head. The idea of a little date made you smile more than you should have, “Is that what you want?”

A quick eager nod, “Yes.”

That’s what sealed the deal. Now you were sitting across from him in the soft lighting of a warmth basking the both of you. Literally and figuratively a light you hadn’t seen him in. Ushiwaka had done his best to order for you. Take the lead during dinner. And only ended up looking away a few times. Still it felt stiff though.

“Are you alright?” You ask, drawing your finger along the lip of your wine glass, “I only want to do this if you really want to Ushiwaka-kun.” A slight lie. Your guts had been in knots since sucking him off but you wanted the chase to lead to him craving you instead of just stealing a volleyball player’s virginity, “This is about your remember.”

Looking down at his untouched glass of wine. In reality he had no idea why he ordered it. Just agreeing to whatever the waiter suggested when you asked for a wine menu. Everything he had said today was things he’d rehearsed from watching too many movies and the few scrapes of advice he’d gotten over the years from Tendo and a few others. None of this felt right though.

“...I’m fine. This just doesn’t seem like what it was supposed to be,” First off his words weigh heavy on you when you think he’s going to revoke wanting to be around you at all. But then he looks up across at you from the table, “I liked it more when you were closer to me.”

Oh? Not what you expected him to say. Actually you didn’t realize he would think like that at all.

“Do you....want me to come sit over there with you?” Your eyebrow raise.

A nod. And with a full glass of wine you were going to pay for meant you had a little bit of time before heading back to the apartment.

Getting up and coming to sit with him. You scoot in closer to him but hesitate for a second not wanting to push it. But he looks at you and then the space between the two of you. So you take it bit more and squeeze in right next to him so your legs are touching.

“Better?”

Ushiwaka swallows the lump in his throat like he did in the locker room. Giving a slight inclination of his head and you smile. He wasn’t good with words but understanding his queues were getting easier. Even if your face was warm it didn’t stop you from reaching over and grabbing your wine to take a sip. 

Once more finding him watching you. You look at him to the glass in your hand. Then offer it to him, “Just a sip.”

He is hesitant but leaning to you Ushiwaka takes a sip off your glass and realizes it’s sweeter than he thought. But what is sweeter is the moment your lips meet his after the wine glass left him. 

Setting the glass down you reach up and cup his cheeks with your palms pressed to his face. Drawing out the kiss in the low lit room. Each time you kissed it seemed he relaxed into it.

“...better?” You mumble against his lips.

“Yes.” He doesn’t ask this time to push into you for another kiss.

Smiling you note how greedy he’s becoming for the kisses. So you add a little something else. Your hand resting on his thigh. 

First he tenses under your touch. So you stay still for a second until Ushiwaka relaxes back into the kiss. Unable to keep your lips from curling into a smile you lean into him as your hand travels further up. 

Fingertips ghosting over his inner thigh. It’s easy to feel the excitement growing in his slacks. And when your hand discreetly ghosts over his clothed cock is the second you get the most delightful moan into the kiss. 

That noise would never get tiring to hear.

“I think...we should start with foreplay,” You smile up at him, “But maybe we should go before that.”

Nodding quickly Ushiwaka wanted nothing more but of course he had to kiss you again. Now that he’d been introduced to your lips that was all he could focus on. 

If this was a normal date you would have thrown back both glasses of wine before agreeing to leave. But with the way his lips pressed hard into yours. And those rough hands palmed your hips in the neediest fashion. All you could think to do was get out of there as soon as possible.

 Before you knew it your back was against your apartment door. His lips on your neck and hands grabbing at your waist as you fumbled with your keys. Perhaps telling Ushiwaka that he could kiss other places on you would have been better saved until you got back to your place. But you wouldn’t lie the cab ride over back to your place made you even giddier for what was going to happen.

“Hold on hold on-” You giggle, the giant man sloppily kissing all over your collar bone and up to your ear. Unable to help it you kiss him momentarily before finally getting the door open so the two of you could crash through.

Kicking the door shut with your foot. When the latch clicks behind you then comes off your shirt. 

“We’re going to start with foreplay,” You smile. Weirdly embarrassed to have him staring at your bra with such intensity, “Come on, take yours off too this isn’t just about me.”

“Oh- Right-” Ushiwaka clearly lost in just the sight before him. It made you blush knowing you were the center of his attention.

Of course the moment he got his shirt off, you had him pushed down on the couch. Unable to help it like the other day in the locker room. Just seeing him like that sparked the wildest urges in you.

Straddling his lap you steal a string of heated kisses. Really marveling at his kisses. They were getting so much better. Or perhaps you were just more enamored with them every time your lips met.

“Foreplay,” You echo yourself from back at the restaurant, “It’s important so sex feels good for both of us.”

“What do I do?” Ushiwaka’s green eyes trying to find some place to focus on you. He wanted to keep eye contact but with you on his lap the man was having a hell of a time keeping his gaze from drifting south.

For some reason when asked it, you suddenly drew a blank. Of course you knew what foreplay was but to explain it? Mind just as blank you realize it’s been a few seconds of just staring at him before anything even clicks in your mind.

“Uh- Well-” You try to refocus, finding it hard to keep the educational tone to yourself the more you were around him. It hadn’t dawned on you that you might have enjoyed his company sooner than later, “Touching.”

“Touching?” Ushiwaka’s brows pinched a little in the middle.

“Wait- Touching like- Here-” You grab his hands and place them on your hips, “Touch me, where ever you want. Just, start with that.”

With that he grabbed your hips. Letting his eyes drift down to your chest. Sure enough it was pretty clear what he wanted more than anything else. Taking a second you lean back and unclasped your bra just to let it finally fall forward. The first time you’ve been naked in front of someone in quite sometime.

Wanting to be hesitant, the way his eyes grow wide and red comes to life on his cheeks, you feel your ego inflate a tad bit. There was just something about the way he looked at you that made every hair on your body stand up in the most excited way. Intoxicated by it. You didn’t want this feeling to ever end.

“Suck,” You order him the second you leaned forward. Warmth from your breasts brushing his cheeks. Ushiwaka’s eyes still wide there wasn’t a need to tell him twice as he latched his mouth onto your breast. At least this wasn’t something you had to explain to him how to do.

The seconds following as his broad tongue swept over your nipple and his hands linked behind the small of your back. You couldn’t help the groan escape your lips. Like your breasts had a mind of their own. Betraying you to a simple touch like this. You wanted to complain but the way your body was slowly being set on fire was too much.

His eyes looked up at you. Clearly seeking approval but unwilling to unlatch from your breast. It made you wonder how long he’d been thinking about getting his lips on you like this without even realizing it. Instead of speaking, you pull your arms around his neck and mash his face into your chest. Inadvertently grinding into his lap as you felt the tent in his slacks growing.

“Ok ok ok,” You knew you had to stop sometime. Though the idea of him playing with your tits all night was alluring. You were here to teach him and not just self indulge, “Some other things-”

“I wasn’t done yet,” He point blank interrupted you. 

Surprising you more than anything. Most guys you met weren’t about to sit and just play with your boobs without getting something in return. Obliging to his wants, as this was about him, you lean back in with Ushiwaka pulling you close again. This time his mouth finding your other breast to latch onto. Paying it as much attention as he had the first one. 

With all this touch it was hard to ignore the wetness in your own pants. The best to relieve that was grinding into him best you could. Thankful for his wide lap. You soon found your hips moving on their own. Pressing down and humping against his clothed cock. More than enough to feel his hard on through your bottoms. Your entire body tingled thinking back to the way he felt in your mouth.

The taste of his cum from before. Your jaw hardly able to take all of him. And the way he grunted just about ready to cum. Those thoughts had plagued your mind since that day. So while you hugged his face, Ushiwaka nursing feverishly at your breast, it was a total surprise when you heard a familiar groan.

Before you even realized what it was. Your humping was met with his hips coming up against your own. The grip he held on you tightened when there was a hum of a groan against your breast. Ushiwaka pushed into you as his entire body tensed. Making you realize he was cumming without even getting undressed yet.

Finally when his grip on you loosened and he relaxed back into the couch. You leaned back to see him red faced. Hard not to smile, you lean down and catch his lips on your own. Knowing he probably hadn’t meant to do that. Nor did you think your dry humping would do that.

“...I’m sorry,” He actually apologized like it was something you’d be mad at.

“No no!” You quickly try to assure him there was nothing wrong, “I just- I didn’t know you needed that so badly huh Mr. Ushijima?” You cover up his embarrassment with a coy smile. Running your fingers up through his dark olive hair and kissing him all over again, “...I’m flattered heh.”

Still looking a little despondent on his normally stoic features. He clearly was less than happy about blowing his load before anything actually happened. Quick on your feet you try and think of something to bring him back around, “...Do you wanna know what I taste like?”

Instantly regretting how you worded that. It was your turn now for your face to heat up.

“Wait- God no that sounds bad-” You fumble over yourself like a fool, “I meant- Well part of foreplay is-”

“Yes.” 

“What?”

“I want to taste you.”

Flushed with heat to your face. You can’t believe it’s your turn to swallow the lump in your throat. Still though you were the captain to this ship. And even as the butterflies in your stomach started up again at the thought of his face between your legs, you still felt a sense of duty to do as you promise.

But the couch was no where to do it. Instead you opted for the comfort of your own bed. Unaware of the fact you had never brought any of the team members in here with you. That was, just never your intent with any of them. But for some reason Ushiwaka was so much different. The knots in your stomach didn’t match with anything you’d felt before.

“Guess I should...well, get naked hah,” You laugh like it’s gonna lighten the mood. Still though his eyes were locked on you. This time no hiding it like before. Since the cat was out of the bag Ushiwaka felt no need to stop himself from being fixated on the beautiful woman in front of him. Maybe it was the fact he couldn’t take his attention from you that was so unfamiliar. Making you fumble a little more than normal with your disrobing. 

Unsure of the reaction you’d get when you stripped naked for him. There was a moment of hesitation like you were the virgin for some reason. Tossing aside the fact this wasn’t about you and about your wonderful wing spiker, you finally turn and give him the sight of everything under the clothes he’d spent so long staring at.

The longest drawn out moments between the two of you. As awkward, if not more so, than the times he would stare at you in the gym. When nothing was said between the two of you but his eyes were set forward on you. It dawned on your maybe what he saw wasn’t what he hoped for. Soon you found words rushing to the forefront of your mind.

“Beautiful.”

“W- I- What?” 

You blink. Realizing he was directing that to you. The word didn’t almost seem real.

“I said, you’re beautiful.” Ushiwaka repeats a little confused how you didn’t hear him only out of arms reach. His words quite clear.

Quickly your heart jumps to your throat. Stomach twisted in knots with a kind of nervous ego. You take a deep breath and smile, “Well...come on, join me then.”

For some reason he didn’t exactly think about getting naked with you. Go figure. But after you gave him the instructions Ushiwaka didn’t stop to think about it. Unbuckling his soiled pants and your mouth instantly watering at the sight of his sticky cock semi hard even after cumming before you made it to the bedroom. All over again you wanted him in your mouth in the worst way possible. Still you had to compose yourself and go as you hand planned.

“I’ll go first...” You sit back on the edge of the bed, spreading your legs and drawing your hands up your stomach invitingly. But of course he didn’t get the hint to come to you. So you tell Ushiwaka to get on his knees in front of you so you can give him a real hands on lesson.

As well behaved as normal, the tall volleyball player came between your legs. Eyes glued onto your core. You didn’t think it was appropriate to ask if he’d seen a woman naked yet. So you just went with the assumption he had. Finding the right way to word things first felt silly. Soon though explaining things so simply was turning you on.

“Here,” You spread yourself open with just one hand to give him full display of your glistening wetness. But that wasn’t what you wanted to show him. No, it was when your finger moved to your budding clit did you want him to pay close attention, “This is my clit and...the most important thing on a woman.”

The normal scowl to his face was almost gone. Replaced with a bit of an awe struck look as his face was mere inches from your core. Still you took a deep breath and composed yourself.

“It feels really good when you do what you did to my breasts, but to my clit.” You show him a few times as you swirl your finger around your sensitive nub. Clenching the edge of the bed as you can’t believe you’re masturbating in front of someone. Especially someone you’d have to see at work the very next day. Still though you didn’t stop, “And when you put a finger inside too, sometimes two. It depends on what the person wants....but...it feels really good.”

“Does it feel good now?” He asked, looking up from between your legs.

For whatever reason your body felt like it was on fire. Just simply playing with yourself turned you on to no end and you’d hardly done anything. You nod as you chew on your bottom lip, “...so good.”

“Can I?”

Nodding you remove your finger from your core. Soaked with your juices you keep looking at him as you lick your finger clean. Not sure what to expect but knowing the way his mouth felt on your breasts earlier was amazing.

The seconds after his lips met with your core sent your stomach into knots. Warmth from not only his lips but fully pressing his tongue against your clit, you accidentally moan when your eyes dart down to see him staring at you. Inadvertently your hand shoots up to cover your mouth as your breath stalls in your chest. Just like how he saw your finger move over your sensitive bud. Ushiwaka proceeded to move his tongue in a similar fashion. 

“Fuck-” Coming out with a moan you can’t but help tip your head back. There was no finesse to it but just his broad tongue against you was a relief to your ache, “That’s nice-” You realize he’s going to lean up and you shake your head quickly and push him back down gently, “No, no talk. You’re doing good. Just- Just keep doing that ok.”

Enticed by the way you tasted. Ushiwaka needed not to be told twice. He had no idea what to expect. A handful of times he’d tasted his own cum over the years. But this did not compare. Slippery and pleasant with a delicious underlying musk he couldn’t just give up. Soon he found himself eagerly licking over every inch of you without thinking too much about where his tongue went.

“Finger-” Your sudden mumble startled him. Making you feel a little bad not knowing he was so into this. But your walls clenching around nothing was driving you insane. So when he lifted his soaked chin and looked at you, you felt your dull ache turn into a full on pussy throb, “Your fingers....you can use your fingers.”

He brought his hand up. Knowing he just saw you finger yourself. Ushiwaka mimicked what you did which was drag his much larger finger along your slit. Enticed by the feeling of your juices coating his finger and the way you jolted when his fingertip brushed your clit. Making a mental note that you really favored to have it touched.

“Just...inside?” He looked a little confused.

Embarrassed to do it. You still grab his wrist and help him guide his index finger inside you. Little resistance with how wet you were. It was more about the way our walls suddenly twitched around his finger that made your breath hitch in your throat. Calling for a timeout as you took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

“....it’s...so warm.” Ushiwaka pointed out. He’d never had any part of himself in a woman. This was so soft, velvety and squishy. When you gave him the ok to go and try moving his finger in different directions. Well he had no idea you would grow even tighter. And the way he watched your hips shudder and buck up. Unknowingly he didn’t realize his cock was coming back to life with this little teaching lesson.

“Y-Your mouth-” Words hardly able to come from you as your mind fogs over. You know you’re supposed to be teaching him but your knot growing in your stomach was making it hard, “You- You can use your mouth too-”

Having not thought of that at all. Ushiwaka turned his hand downward so he could freely push his finger in and out of you still. But now it gave him a clear way to your clit. Once more he simply opened his mouth and pressed his tongue to your hard bud.

“No no no- Swirl it around, I just- Rub your tongue against it like- like when we make out-” It was best you could do as you shifted up against his mouth. Sanity slowly leaving you.

The way you made out? He knew what that meant. Quickly his tongue went from just broad strokes against your clit. To the tip of his tongue massaging your clit like he did your tongue during heated make out sessions. Paired with the way his thick finger moved in you. This was bad.

“Shit-” Through clenched teeth you gripped the sheets under you. When it seemed like he was gonna stop you can’t believe your voice cracked in a panic, “Don’t stop! God- Please- Go- Keep going-”

Liking the sound of that. Ushiwaka found his finger slipping deeper inside you. With that his finger fucking became harder and deeper without thinking. Paired with the way his tongue found the sweet spot at the top of your clit under the sensitive hood. He had no idea what to expect but you told him not to stop. Just like that he wasn’t going to.

You cave. All at once. You fist the sheets under you until they’re a twisted mess. Hips bucking up against his face you feel the release before it happens. 

“I’m cumming! Oh fuck- Shit- Ushi-kun I’m cumming!” 

Lewd words falling from your lips with the sharp inhale. Every inch of you shuddering just as your walls flutter around his finger. Milking it like you’ll get anything from it as his finger presses against your squishy walls. Your orgasm explodes out of you in the most embarrassing manner. Just like you told him to do. Ushiwaka doesn’t stop until you’re certain you feel your heartbeat in your clit.

“...ok...ok ok, break.” You pant needing to collect yourself. There certainly was a heartbeat in your cunt now. 

He listens as well as always. Ushiwaka withdrawing his finger still a little in awe that’s what it felt like. Not yet connecting the dots that was where he was going to put his cock. You though. You notice. He’s staring at you hungry for something. And between his legs his cock has come back to life after such a show. You figure he’s never seen a woman cum before. And really sure he’s never been the cause of it.

Slowly you sit up and look at him. Only a moment before leaning in and kissing him a little harder than you had been. Needy and tasting your juices off his face. Ushiwaka’s hands find your sides and he gives you a squeeze just as you pull your lips away from his so you can whisper against them with an excited shiver shooting up your spine, “Here we go, the final lesson....sex.”

[icysaturn]

An Act of Villainy

Hi! This is my first fic so bear with me <3

Summary: You force yourself to get kidnapped by the LOV alongside Bakugou, and you refuse to leave their hideout without him by your side. To do so, you embrace your inner villain.

Pairings: Bakugou/Reader

Content warnings: violence, cursing, fluff!

word count: 3.8k

Your quirk: Water manipulation (basically you’re a waterbender on steroids lol)

-- 

You had been part of the bakusquad since the get-go, having been friends with Kirishima and Mina since your middle school days. Upon entrance to UA, you immediately fell head over heels for their angry blonde friend. You and Bakugou had grown close over the past few months, but he never seemed to show you the special treatment you so craved from him. But, you decided you were lucky to have Bakugou in your life in any way he would allow it.

That’s why now, as you stared at Bakugou’s fear-stricken face and the scarred hand wrapped around his neck, all rational thought flew out the window. You and Deku raced towards him and Dabi, but the warp villain’s quirk had almost swallowed them completely whole.

“KACCHAN!” Deku screamed, the knowledge that he wouldn’t make it in time evident in his strained voice. But you could.

Thrusting your arms behind you and angling your palms backwards, you emitted a great blast of steam from them that propelled you forward and past Deku, barreling for Bakugou. You could’ve sworn his eyes were about to pop out of his sockets as you reached a hand out, grappling for his shirt.

“Y/n... Deku…Stay back,” Bakugou wheezed around the fingers gripping his throat. But you couldn’t; you knew you could never forgive yourself if you let the boy you love slip through your fingers. With a victorious shout, you felt the sweat-soaked material of Bakugou’s shirt twist in your fingers, and you pulled yourself to him as you both tumbled through the purplish-black mist.

…

The three of you emerged in what appeared to be a musty abandoned bar, but you didn’t have time to gather your bearings as Dabi shoved you off of Bakugou in disgust and you landed on the floor in a heap, breaths ragging. Kurogiri quickly slapped quirk-dampening cuffs on Bakugou and tugged him to a chair at the far wall. Bakugou roared as he was tied down, his crimson eyes burning in rage.

“Who the hell is this? You guys can’t do anything right, can you?”

You heart stuttered in your chest as you recognized the gravelly voice of Shigaraki, turning around to see him leaning casually against the cracking wood of the bar.

“It wasn’t my fault she was dumb enough to throw herself at us,” Dabi sighed, annoyance pinching his brow. He stepped up to your shaking form and extended his hand, blue flames flaring to life. “I’ll get rid of her, boss.”

“NO—”

“WAIT!”

You and Bakugou both cried out, you throwing your hands up in a sign of goodwill. Your gaze shot to Bakugou, eyes wide, lower lip trembling. He actually looked… scared. Well shit. If he was scared, then this was really, really bad.

Dabi stopped, cocking his head. “And why shouldn’t I torch you on the spot? You weren’t what we came for, brat.”

You wiggled into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall with your hands still held in surrender. “No, but I should have been,” you say casually, willing the fear out of your voice and raising your chin to look Dabi in the eye. You made sure to wipe all expression from your face, a steady chill creeping over your skin that you mentally shook off.

“The fuck?” Bakugou shouted from his chair. He sounded strained. “Y/n, what the fuck is wrong with you!? Get out, I don’t need your help—"

“Shut it brat. Tell me, y/n… why should we have taken you?” Shigaraki pondered. You slid your gaze over to him, repressing the shudder that crawled over your tired body at the sight of the decayed hands latched onto him.

“Feel free to tie me up with Bakugou, if it makes you feel better, and I’ll explain,” you answer, leveling your stare at the leader of the LOV.

“Oh, I don’t think you have a choice in that matter, dollface,” Dabi grins, nodding at Toga who bounds over and pulls you gently to your feet.

She leans in close and presses her nose to your neck, and it takes all of your will-power to not recoil. She smelled like blood; the copper tang thick around her. “You smell sooo sweet!” she cheers, yanking your wrists together and slapping cuffs on them tight enough to make you wince. You angle your head down and look at her pointed canines through half-lidded eyes. “Yeah? You think so?” you whisper. Toga giggles and Bakugou tugs at his restraints with a grunt at your expression. She marches you over to him and straps you to the chair Compress placed next to Bakugou’s.

You turn to smirk at him, but he’s already glaring at you with… anger?

“Traitor,” he barks, jerking his chin away from you, but not before you catch the tears brimming in his eyes. Your heart clenches painfully and you will your mental apologies to reach him, praying he catches on to your plan.

“Start talking,” Shigaraki snaps, and you swivel your gaze to look at him and the members of the league.

“Hi, nice to meet you all,” you smile. “I assume you watched all of our matches at the sports festival?” Your tone is bold with a slightly sinister lilt to your words.

“Oh of course!” Toga claps with glee. “I thought you were the cutest!”

“Shut it, psycho,” growls Dabi, but Toga only points her knife at him with a sadistic grin.

You smile at her and bat your lashes, forcing a blush. “Yeah? I like this one,” you wink, nodding your head towards her. You want to throw up.

Shigaraki waves his hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You have a strong quirk. So?”

The shackles chafe your wrists and you’re sure your skin is rubbed raw. “Ever since you attacked my class at the USJ, I’ve been trying to find a way to join the LOV,” you answer slowly, gauging the league’s reactions. Shigaraki merely raises his eyebrows, but you see Bakugou whip his head in your direction at his words.

“Well, you see, I’ve been a big fan of how you guys operate for a while now, not to mention how much fun you guys seem to have together! I want that!” You angle your gaze down at your shackled feet and continue in a hushed voice, summoning tears to your eyes. “You see, I never really felt like I belonged at UA. Sure, my classmates were nice to me, but it was all fake, I could tell. I don’t owe anyone anything, and I want what you guys have,” you admit, flicking your gaze up to see tears shining in Toga’s eyes as well and Dabi’s relaxed expression. Seems like they joined the league for a similar reason.

“Why the hell should we believe you?” Shigaraki asks, but Bakugou interrupts.

“You have friends, you shitty woman! Why are you acting like we don’t care about you, dumbass?” Bakugou shouts.

You jerk your head to look at him, willing anger into your features, but it’s a struggle. He looks so hurt: mouth slack and eyebrows relaxed as he stares at you with wide eyes. You force a laugh. “Really, Kacchan?” You continue even as you watch the boy you love flinch away as far as his restraints would allow. “You’re always bullying me! You insult me at every chance you get, and you see how I’m everyone’s last pick during training!” you snarl at him. He looks at his feet, shoulders trembling slightly. It hurt, but for this to work, he couldn’t know what you were planning.

Dabi barks a laugh and Toga pouts. “How rude Bakugou!”

You continue with your pathetic villain origin story full of holes you hoped your quirk would fill. “Plus, there are things I can do with my quirk that are banned, things that are seen as ‘villainous and evil’. Things that I can use to help you guys take down All Might once and for all.” You hated the words as soon as they passed your lips, but you knew they were your selling point.

“Oh? And how do we know you won’t use your quirk on us as soon as we set you free?” Shigaraki drawls, sounding bored, but you can hear the interest piquing in his voice.

You answered with a sneer that would have scared the shit out of you if you had a mirror. “I’ll use Bakugou to show you.” You fixed your crazy eyes and cheek splitting smirk on your classmate. “I owe him one.”

He spat on you and you flinched a bit. “The fuck you will, you traitorous bitch! Fuck all of you!” he shouted, struggling against his restraints with a renewed sense of fear.

You had ranked third in the sports festival and had almost beaten Bakugou a few times even without your banned moves. You could feel the apprehension rippling off of him. Now, it seemed, he was scared of you. Probably fair, given your flipped personality.

“Hm... Alright. Do you have enough space here?” Shigaraki asked, motioning Dabi to untie Bakugou from the chair.

“No, unfortunately. Do you guys have someplace safe we can go outside?” I ask innocently.

“This bar backs onto an alley that should be suitable,” Compress answers, pushing himself off the wall he had been resting on. “We’ll all go with to make sure you don’t have any tricks up your sleeve.” He fixes you with an untrustworthy glare and smiles.

“Of course not,” you smile sweetly. “I want to join your cause, remember?”

Dabi moves to release you too, and you force a smirk, raising your half-lidded eyes to stare at him. “Hey there, hot stuff. You can be rough with me, I can take it,” you purr. You hear Bakugou “tch” from behind you.

Dabi burns through your cuffs and you rub your aching wrists, but freeze as he leans into your ear and says, “We’ll see about that, sweetheart.”

…

You stood in the cramped alley, lit only by the glow of the lights flooding from the bar’s open door. The LOV are stationed sporadically around the alley: Compress at one end and Dabi at the other, with Kurogiri guarding the door to the bar and Toga and Shigaraki standing in front of you and Bakugou. His hands are still shackled, a hitch to your plan that will be a bitch to work around.

“Here are the rules,” Shigaraki calls. He was uncomfortably close given his quirk, but you didn’t have much of a choice here. “You must tell us your moves before enacting them, and you must keep the kid alive. Also, you are forbidden to attack one of us,” he extends his hands near your face threateningly, and you swallow thickly.

“Understood, boss,” you smile at him. “Sorry Bakugou, this is gonna hurt a bit.”

“Shut up,” Bakugou snarls. He’s standing with hunched shoulders, not looking at you. Angling your body away from Shigaraki and Toga, you announce, “my first banned move is my ability to form ice inside someone’s body. For example, I can freeze their veins, their lungs—essentially stopping vital functions. For Bakugou, I will mold a lump of solid ice in his trachea, but only for a few seconds.” That got everyone’s attention. Bakugou whipped his head to stare at you, taking a step backward.

“Y-You can’t, Y/n, please,” he stuttered, his usual angry demeanor lost.

“Oh, but I can. Don’t worry, I won’t kill you,” you taunt. You caught his eye then, mouthing “it’s okay, I have a plan,” before outstretching your wrist and changing the humidity in his throat to solid ice. Bakugou’s hand instantly flew to his throat, trying to gasp for air, but no sound came out. You had never hated your quirk before, but in this moment you despised it.

You kept your hold on him until his face flushed and Shigaraki stated, “that’s enough.”

You instantly released him and he collapsed to the floor, heaving for air. Tears pricked your eyes but with a twitch of your fingers, you evaporated them into the air without a trace.

“Whaddya think?” you gleamed, turning back around to face the others.

Toga looked absolutely devilish, clapping her hands and giggling. Dabi smirked at you, and you winked back. The rest of the league nodded their heads in approval, and Shigaraki tilted his head, thinking.

“I like you,” he rasped. “I think we could use someone like you, yeah?” He glanced around at the league, who smiled back.

Kurogiri spoke up next. “With her, the league would be, well, in a whole other league.” Dabi rolled his eyes at the joke, but the warp villain continued. “What else do you got, kid?”

“For my next trick,” you winked at Compress, “I will control the water flowing in his veins, and thus control his body. I saw it in a T.V. show once, and what do you know? It worked!”

Shigaraki nodded his approval, and you swiveled around to face Bakugou once again. This is when your plan would kick up a notch, and you needed him on board for it to work.

Bakugou finally got up from the ground, his normal pallor back. He shot daggers at you, and rasped, “Don’t fucking touch me, you bitch.”

You turned around and pouted at Toga, whose face flushed pink. Turning back to Bakugou, you wiped the smug expression off your face. His eyebrow quirked in confusion and you softened your gaze, nodding slightly.

“Get ready, Katsuki,” you said seriously, and it seems like the gears finally clicked in his head. His mouth went wide before settling into a hard line as he furrowed his eyebrows.

You threw out both arms in front of you and shut your eyes, sweat sliding down your temple in concentration. Sensing the water mixed in his blood, you seized it like reigns. When you next opened your eyes, you lifted your left arm up, and Bakugou followed suit. The league of villains gasped and Bakugou struggled against your control. Gritting your teeth, you tugged his arms in front of his face and he shouted in frustration.

“He’s like a puppet!” Toga cackled, Dabi laughing as well. You glanced at Shigaraki, who crossed his arms in his appreciation of your quirk.

“Well, Y/n, we have a deal.”

“I knew you’d see my side of things,” you smiled genuinely, taking a few steps to the right, away from Shigaraki and Toga and towards Dabi a bit. You nodded at Bakugou, releasing your hold on him, but you both stayed in the same position.

“There’s one more thing I can do with my quirk,” you say carefully, making eye contact with Bakugou.

“And what’s that?” Shigaraki asked greedily.

“This!” You felt the perspiration on Bakugou’s hands, felt the water molecules trapped between his skin and the cuffs. With enough force, water can break through almost anything. Pleaseworkpleaseworkpleasework, you chanted as you used all of your strength to rip the water molecules through the cuffs.

“Wait, you little shit—!” Shigaraki yelled, but it was too late. The cuffs split down the middle and Bakugou tore them off him, immediately crouching into a fighting stance and igniting a massive blast right at Shigaraki. Bakugou whooped in victory, turning to blast Kurogiri backwards into the bar before he had a chance to warp the two of you somewhere else.

“C’mon!” You screamed at him, tugging his elbow and sprinting towards Dabi.

“Don’t tell me what to do, shitty woman!” Bakugou screamed back, but he raced down the alley with you.

“Oh, shut it!”

Bakugou was about to blast Dabi, but your quirk was a better match for him. You gripped the blood in his veins and thrust your arms forward, effectively shoving him further down the alley. Just as Dabi was standing back up to brush the dirt off of his coat and launch his flames at you, you caught your breath and formed the lump of ice in his throat that sent him keening to the side, pressing a hand to his throat to melt the ice.

You saw Bakugou turn to start blasting at Toga and Compress, who were quickly gaining on you.

“Katsuki! We have to go, NOW!” You shouted over the bangs, turning to throw up an ice wall on either side of you for a moment of rest.

“Fuck! You dumbass! Get on!” he grumbled, crouching down for you to hop onto his back. Once he was upright, you angled a palm at the ground and shot steam from it, shooting the two of you into the air right as Dabi sent a torrent of flames through your ice wall, the heat licking at your heels.

Bakugou used his blasts to fly you away from the alley, and you craned your neck just in time to see Compress throwing his blue prisons at you. You crystallized them with ice and they fell back into the alley where the League of Villains stood, getting smaller by the second, but you couldn’t miss the look of pure rage on Shigaraki’s face.

You rested your forehead on Bakugou’s shoulder, using all of your remaining strength to cling to his back, but the exertion of your puppeteer technique was taking over, your arms feeling staticky and your vision darkening at the edges.

“Fuck, that was scary!” you breathed a laugh, grip loosening a bit.

“You idiot! That could’ve gotten us both killed!” Bakugou barked, the wind carrying his voice towards you.

“I think what you mean to say,” you wheezed, “is ‘thank you.’” And with that, the darkness took over and you felt yourself slip off his back, the balmy air embracing you as the lights of the city rose to meet you.

“Y/n! —”

��

You felt the brightness of the lights burning in front of your eyelids but refused to open them. Shit, did your body hurt. It felt like you had been hit by a truck, and you reached out with your quirk to sense the distortions of water in the air, trying to assess how many people were in the room with you. You only sensed one, your body relaxing as you realized you recognized the caramel scent of the person sitting next to you. Groaning, you cracked your eyelids open and saw a sleeping Bakugou resting on his forearm at the edge of your mattress. You were in Recovery Girl’s office, thank god. You pushed yourself to a sitting position, fighting the soreness in your muscles. Closing your eyes in concentration, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Bakugou shouted, “Dumbass! Lay back down!”

Your eyes flew open just in time to see Bakugou looming over you, his hand pushing you back in the bed. You gulped at his closeness but shouted back. “Shut it! I have a headache asshole! Now help me up.”

He grumbled at you but tugged you up into a sitting position regardless, fumbling with the knobs on the side of the hospital bed to raise the top so you could lean on it for support.

“Thanks.”

“Shut up, shitty woman.”

You rolled your eyes at him, and he rolled his at you. “So, uh, what happened?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He flushed, shifting in his seat a bit. “You fell off my back while we were escaping. I caught you, of course, but the old lady says the overuse of your quirk and the whiplash from the fall knocked you out… for the past 18 hours,” he finished, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“18 HOURS?!”

“I THOUGHT YOU HAD A HEADACHE!”

“Oh, right,” you giggled. “I’m a good actress, huh?” you elbowed him jokingly. Bakugou flushed again, moving to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Hell no! You didn’t fool me for a second,” he grumbled. “Dumbass.”

“Sure, boom boom boy.”

You both looked at each other, a tense silence taking over. Bakugou looked confused like he wanted to ask you something, so you nudged him.

“Did you really mean all that shit you spewed back there?”

“What shit—oh. No, I didn’t. I have you and Kiri! Mina, Denki, and Sero, too. To be honest, I just thought you didn’t like me very much, that’s all,” you laughed.

“Then why?”

“Huh?” you scrunched your face at him.

“Why did you save me? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” he shouted at you. “Do you look down on me or something?!”

Your eyes widened at the hurt expression on his face. It threw you back to the league’s hideout and how afraid yet stubborn he looked.

“Because I knew I could.”

“Bullshit, try harder.”

You swallowed. “Uh, well, I—uh, hmm.” He raised an eyebrow and you took a deep breath. “Because I couldn’t stand the thought of what they could’ve done to you. Because I know even the strongest need help sometimes; I could see it in your eyes.”

He only arched his brow further. “I told you, I didn’t need help! —”

“Because I care about you! Because I-I’m in love with you!” you interrupted.

You ducked your head, your hair falling to cover your face as your heart pounded in your ears. You peeked up through your lashes to see Bakugou sitting perfectly still, his mouth agape.

“Shit—uh,” you looked up at him. “Don’t feel pressured to feel the same. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that�� I don’t want to make you uncomf—mmf!”

But you were cut off as Bakugou snapped out of his trance and silenced you with a kiss. He pulled away just as quickly, and you stared at his blushing face. “I love you too, idiot,” he said.

“You do?”

“For a while now. Don’t make me say it again!”

You grinned softly, but it fell as you recalled yesterday’s events. “I’m so sorry if I hurt you, Katsuki. I just—I just didn’t know what else to do,” you admitted, fiddling with your fingers in your lap.

Katsuki reached out and stilled your hands. “As if, stupid.”

You searched his eyes, but they were steady, gazing into your e/c ones. “Promise?”

“Promise. That’s one hell of a trick you got there, but it could use some work.”

Smiling so wide you thought you’d break, you closed the space between the two of you and ran a hand through his surprisingly soft hair. He cupped your face and you both melted into each other.

Gasping, Katsuki pulled back just enough to whisper “thank you” against your lips before leaning in for one more kiss. “But don’t ever do anything like that again, shitty woman!”

You pressed your forehead to his, laughing as you reached up to cup his cheeks. “Hmm, we’ll see about that.”

You felt his smile against your lips.

[the-chick-of-the-air]

A Quiet Kind Of Sad

Summary: Cardan is feeling a bit neglected and it makes him sad. Jude is there to make him feel better. Rating: G

Cardan was sad

That may sound ridiculous, even silly. But the truth was, even the High King of Elfhame felt blue every now and again.

Especially when the cause for such feelings were brought on by those closest to him.

It had started with The Roach.

The spy had arranged for an early sly-footing lesson with the King when out of no where he had to “reschedule”. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered Cardan, but he had been slightly anxious that morning (Jude hadn’t been in bed when he woke. Rather a flimsy piece of parchment stating she’d gone with The Bomb to scout out a potential threat lay in her stead. He very much loved waking up to the warmth of his wife next to him, thank you very much.) and he’d been looking forward to distracting himself with some lessons. Alas, that fell through.

In an even worse mood then normal, Cardan decided to show up to the council meeting scheduled for that afternoon. He still detested the things, but Jude was out (which made it even worse, the only reprieve he found during meetings such as these were when he had his wife firmly by his side) and she would want him to go for the both of them.

This brought on a whole new level of irritation, as none of the council members took him seriously in the first place. Without Jude to steer the ship that was this mess of a meeting, things had quickly spiraled out of hand and ended in a wreck. And of course, no one had deigned to listen to anything the High King had to say, which only further upset him.

He left the council room fuming, with no recollection of anything that was said- it had all been useless pecking anyway, but still- and Cardan had found himself in desperate need of two things, a breather and his Queen.

Thankfully, she had returned sometime during the meeting. She would need a break after all that sleuthing as well, right?

Wrong, apparently.

Cardan had all but burst into his wife’s study, intent in asking-begging, if need be- her to take a walk with him around the gardens. Surely she wouldn’t deny him that? Usually when they were separated for more then half a day they would get agitated without one another. Cardan would dare say it vital to all those who lived in Elfhame to ensure their rulers spent as much time together as possible.

Confidant that he would finally find some solace with his favorite person, he finally got to her and reached out to pull her into himself.

And she immediately moved away from him.

A sharp pang-that he would never admit to…probably- tore into Cardan’s chest. Why had she done that?

Though, he supposed, she had looked distracted, probably didn’t even notice his presence, so caught up in whatever document she was reading as she was. And maybe he’d gotten to good at sly-footing and she hadn’t heard him?

Geared with this hope, Cardan had moved in again, this time aiming to kiss her cheek. That would for sure get her attention-he was proud to say he was the only one allowed to kiss her face without consequences!- however as soon as he got close enough to brush his lips to her skin, she turned from him, murmuring, “Hi. Sorry, busy.”

Bus- what?

Cardan had practically deflated. Normally he’d simply grab her head and press kiss after kiss to her face until he got a laugh or a good natured scowl or something out of her.

But he was always in a good mood when he did that.

Now, he’d felt the final blow of the long beating that this day has doled out to him. And he couldn’t take it anymore. He found himself wilting as he thought back over every interaction he’d had that day. Thought of how The Roach had given no explanation as to his sudden disappearing act. Thought of how the Living Council had argued over his orders and drowned out his words until he had no choice but to remain silent. Thought of how even some servants had been eyeing him with an air of cool distrust that day.

And now his own wife, the one person, the one love he was certain he would be freely granted, especially when everyone else pushed him away, was shutting him out.

With a start, Cardan wondered if this was his doing. He frantically wracked his own mind, searching through his memory of the last few days, trying to find his mistake, his misstep. What had he done to incite such cold reactions from his closest company? What did he do to deserve this?

He came up short, but surely he’d done something wrong, at least in their eyes?

Almost too afraid of the answer he would receive, Cardan decided to ask what he’d originally set out to ask Jude for, desperately hoping this was all in his head, “I simply thought I would request a few moments of your time, dear Jude,” he’d bit out against his growing hurt, “A walk around the gardens, perhaps? I find myself in sore need of a break. Surely you would like a moment to yourself as well?”

Jude hadn’t even looked up, “I’m fine but you can go. I’ll see you later.”

Right, then. It appeared his time had been wasted in pursuit of trying to spend it with those who obviously didn’t want his company.

Nodding once, Cardan turned as quickly and as gracefully as he could and all but ran from the room.

He ignored the stares he revived from servants and loitering courtiers alike as he fled to the safety of his chambers-of their chambers. Once inside, he slammed the doors shut and willed a few throned vines to grow tightly over them.

And without further fanfare, he flung himself onto the oversized bed and cried.

So yes. Cardan was sad. And lonely. He could only assume that his closest companions aversion to spending time with him stemmed from their joint displeasure with him. Though what they were displeased about was a horrible mystery to him.

Perhaps he just wasn’t interesting enough for them any longer. Maybe he had done something to elicit subtle anger from everyone-well, the council wasn’t very subtle in their feelings, but The Roach and his lovely Jude had mastered the art of silent seething- it could be that everyone was just tired of him, he did have the remarkable ability to drive people away very quickly. Even those loyal to him eventually found cause for abandoning him.

He cried a little harder.

Rather then further trying to puzzle out why everyone hated him that day, Cardan simply allowed himself the small luxury of just feeling. Just accepting the tears as they slipped down his cheeks. He found it was ok to be sad, so long as you had a sound reason.

He was a bit lost in his own sorrows-mainly trying to ward off harsh memories of a mother who never wanted him and didn’t bother to hide it- so he didn’t immediately notice when someone entered the room.

After the footsteps registered, it wasn’t hard to figure out just who had been able to get through those vines.

Jude frowned when she entered their chambers. She’d had trouble remembering Cardan’s demeanor when he’d attempted to…what had he been in her study for? She had been so caught up in correspondence that she’d failed to really register what he had wanted. She’d figured if he hadn’t pressed the matter then it must not have been that important.

That pretense flew out the window when she reached the chamber doors.

They were bolted shut from the inside. It’d taken her a few moments and the use of her power-which she was still learning to use in its full capacity- to realize that the object blocking the doors was a thick group of thorny vines. She willed them to wither and made her way inside.

Pointless to say, she was slightly stunned when she heard sniffling coming from their bed. Was…was her husband crying?

Despite it not being very loud, nor dramatic-which was concerning, as drama was his go-to emotion- the sound tugged at something in her chest. She found herself hurting for her love, even though she’d had yet to find what ailed him.

She was about to ask-softly and sweetly because he was upset enough to be weeping- what was wrong when she caught herself.

She remembered his question. The way he’d asked her to take a break with him. It was as if the sound of him breaking down slapped the memory back into her.

He’d sounded agitated, upset, even. And didn’t he usually latch onto her as a way of greeting? He hadn’t- …yes. Yes he had. He’d reached out for her and she’d absentmindedly brushed him away, focused on her work as she was.

And, when trying to figure out why else he would be moved to tears-surely her unintentional rejection alone hadn’t pushed him over the edge- she recalled The Roach offhandedly mentioning he’d had to cancel her husband’s sly-footing lesson that morning due to a personal matter. Cardan must have taken it the wrong way.

Randalin had also stopped her in the hall, snidely commenting that her presence at the council meeting had been missed. Cardan hated those things on a good day.

She was an idiot. Her husband had been having a rough day and she’d ignored him in favor of work. Normally he would be fine with that-he always told her he adored the way she got lost in ruling the kingdom now and again- but he’d obviously been upset from the very start of the day.

Jude wasn’t one to coddle, normally. But the High King so rarely showed his vulnerability like this. And the fact that there wasn’t a single flask of alcohol in sight proved how serious this was. It may have not seemed big, but his feelings were valid, at least to her.

A sigh escaped her as she quickly made her way over to her husband. His eyes were open but staring blankly at the wall. A pillow-hers, she noted- was tucked in the crook of his arm, hiding half his face since he was laying on his stomach. Tears streaked his cheeks and dampened her pillow.

She said nothing, knowing words wouldn’t fix this. Mortals could lie, and if he was this down, he’d surely believe anything that came out of her mouth was nothing but false. Actions would have to speak for her.

She leaned over and kissed his bare shoulder. Her fingers found their way into his hair and she gently tugged at his curls when he buried his face in the pillow.

I’m sorry. She hoped the potency of that one thought seeped into his skin where her lips touched, hoped he could feel her asking for forgiveness for making him feel like this. Long past were the days where they derived any sort of pleasure for hurting each other emotionally. Now, any pain one felt was shared with the other, in sync and in love as they were.

Silently she slipped into the bed with him and wrapped her arms securely around him, leaving no room for doubt about how badly she wanted to be near him.

He shuddered, silent cries still wracking his body, and burrowed closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her chest. His tail wrapped tightly around her calf. Her shirt was wet in seconds. That was ok though, because her face was wet with her own tears.

She hadn’t meant to hurt him. And she desperately hoped he knew that, could sense her regret for neglecting him when he was obviously going through a tough time.

After a moment, his tears finally subsided. And Jude spoke before he had the chance to feel embarrassed or ridiculous about showing a normal emotion. Placing a kiss to his head she whispered,

“We can go on that walk now”.

His only response was to pull her closer.

Might do a part two where Jude knows from the beggining that he’s upset and we get a bit more insight to how they spend their time together while they are just comforting each other. As always, let me know what you guys think ❤️

Tag-list: (please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list and I’ll be happy to add you🥰)

@maleckanejnessianjurdansolangelo @woodsbeyond1 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @thewickedkings @aneurwin @snusbandxknifewife @jurdanhell @andromeddea @dressedindustandshadows @thesirenwashere @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @unidentifiedblackthorn @iminsanenotobsessed

❤️

[jenovahh]

A Long Fall - Gaius x OC

Rating: T Pairing: Gaius x OC A quick lil bit an art trade with @faunna! Hope I captured your OC well! =========================================================== It is well past midnight (or rather it feels like it) and though Yanelis would never admit to anyone, not even herself, she is filled to the brim with worry.

She has long since been changed for bed, her usually free flowing hair now neatly tucked in french braids so that her tresses will curl on the morrow. Though she is not in her usual day wear, her pajamas are no less finer than any of the dresses in her closet. With slippered feet she had tried to find different kinds of busy work to occupy her mind: pulling weeds in the garden, preparing dinner, cleaning the bathroom twice. 

And still he has not returned home.

She resolves that as soon as the bell does strike twelve to shed her night wear and don her usual healing robes and march right out to Ala Mhigo to see what is taking that man so damn long. Her tail whips in agitation, fast like a whip as it accidentally thumps against a nearby cabinet. Her eyes are trained on the door despite her best efforts, praying to any of the Twelve that listen, that he just comes home.

The hour grows progressively late, topaz eyes glaring at the door almost angrily, as if willing it to open and have her lover on the other side. Glancing at a nearby clock, it is barely fifteen minutes past ten, but unfortunately her concern outweighs her reason. Kicking off her slippers, she angrily stomps her way to her bedroom, stopping only as she hears an untimely thud against the front door.

Freezing in place, her preternatural eyes dart around for any potential weapons, but stops as she hears the sound of a key being clumsily shoved into the whole. The latches flip and the door flies open, revealing a handsome, but haggard looking man.

Relief floods through her chest immediately, nearly tripping over her forgotten slippers in her haste to greet the imposing figure at her door. With skin as dark as the earth that gives life, he bumbles through the door, looking seemingly okay until he falters, grunting in pain as he crashes down to one knee.

“Gaius!”

Yanelis is at his side in an instant, falling to her knees with little disregard for her silken bedwear. “Are you well? Should I fetch my robes--”

Gaius gives a soft chuckle, more to himself than anything as he tries to stand back to his feet, pride lending him strength.

Unfortunately all pride lends him is embarrassment as he crashes back to the floor.

Fussing over him like a mother hen, Yanelis quickly checks for any external bleeding, glad to see any lacerations and wounds are not too deep and can be mended with a few healing spells. He’ll sport some deep purple bruises in the morning, this she can tell, but she needs to help him survive until the next morn.

“Clothes off. Now.” She demands, grabbing him by his right arm. He groans in protest, a mixture of indignation and pain but acquiesces all the same as he leans onto her for support. Despite her petite frame compared to his lean build, she has all the strength needed to help him limp into the bathroom. Sitting him on the privy, she leans over to start the water to running, setting it to a nice hot temperature to help soothe his aches and wash away any evils.

“How are you this beaten up?” Yanelis finds herself asking, turning around to immediately reach for his tattered coat, wrenching it off nigh forcefully given her frustration. Gaius groans mutely in protest but shrugs his shoulder and arms out of the dirty garment, allowing her to begin working on his shirt next. “I demand an answer.”

Gaius’ lips move but whatever he says comes out in a grumble, only serving to further incite her ire.

“Has the Black Wolf grown so meek that he cannot answer a simple question?” She huffs, hands on her hips as she bends closer, minding her horns. “Speak up, lest I nearly impale your head trying to hear you.”

“I had told you this morning why I had left, had I not?” Gaius finally speaks, his voice scratchy and worn.

“Yes, you had told me you would be heading to examine the Emerald Weapon; not fight in a godsdamned war. Or at least, come home looking like you did.” Try as she might she cannot hide the concern in her voice, and she can tell by the glint in his eyes that he’s picked up on it too. However, this seems to make him even more embarrassed, turning his face away like some sort of petulant child. “Gaius. What. Happened?”

He is silent a few moments more before grumbling again, standing to his feet. Stumbling backward from his sudden movement, Yanelis’ face goes scarlet as his hands reach for his breeches and begin tugging them downward. “By the Twelve-” Spinning on her heel, she quickly exits the bathroom, closing the door shut behind her.

Heart racing, she takes a moment to breathe, before hearing the lock click shut behind her. She turns the knob but the door won’t budge, and she stamps her foot in anger. “Gaius van Baelsar!” She shouts, realizing she’s been had.

“I will be out in a moment.” His voice carries under the door, along with a blissful sigh coupled with the sound of sloshing water.

Pleased for now, Yanelis pads up the aged stairs to gather her supplies. She would need her staff to heal the larger cuts and could most likely bandage the rest. Worry still niggles the back of her mind,  but he is home and safe and for that she is already grateful. Supplies in hand, she realizes she spaced out longer than intended and heads for the stairs.

Just as she rounds the corner, she spies Gaius there in a towel wrapped somewhat loosely around his slender hips, his expression looking caught. Yanelis feels herself flush red seeing the last few droplets of water running down his  brown skin, his skin still maintaining a slight moisture from his bath.

Clearing her throat, she pins him with her most indignant look. "And where do you think you're going?"

Frowning, Gaius avoids her eyes. "I was going to get changed, madam." He drawls sarcastically. 

Huffing,  Yanelis descends by one stair.  "Since you're feeling so cheeky, then you're clearly well enough to sit awhile longer so that I can bandage your wounds. Stay down there, I will return with a change of clothes."

Fixing her with a withering glare, Gaius sighs knowing the battle already lost, but he must say his piece. "I am not a child."

"Then don't act like one. Down. Stairs. " She orders, grinning as he turns around and trudges back down the stairs. Turning on her heel she heads into their bedroom, immediately heading for his dresser to retrieve a loose nightshirt and some pants, she hustles down the stairs with her arms bursting with things.

She finds him in the kitchen shoving his shirt and pants at him before turning to head into the den, back turned so that he may have some semblance of privacy. “And don’t even think about sneaking back upstairs or I’m putting you out.” She calls over her shoulder, walking around the couch to set her things down on the coffee table. The scratches and dents stick out to her most often during these times, the poor table used as a makeshift operating table more often than not. She often joked to herself that Gaius got himself banged up on purpose knowing she could heal him.

“Let’s get this over with.”

His rough voice jolts her from her thoughts, nearly jumping out her scales as Gaius rounds the wide couch and plops himself on it rather unceremoniously. His face is contorted in a way that looks as if he is trying not to pout, eyebrows pinched together in what is pure annoyance and thinly veiled pain.

“Well if you want to sleep and bleed all out over the ground outside, do be my guest.” Yanelis huffs, crossing her arms petulantly as Gaius cuts her a withering glare. 

“Just...heal me you stubborn woman.” He groans, sitting forward, releasing his tension so that she may move him how she likes.

Having gotten her way, Yanelis hums happily as she reaches for her staff and immediately seeks out the deepest cuts, the top of the staff glowing a healthy green in tandem with her hand over his skin. She winces as he does, holds herself back from hissing with him as the skin knits together beneath her palm, eyes closed in complete focus as she feels magic flow through her.

“That will...never cease to be strange. And yet it also amazes me.” She hears him murmur, his voice having lost its jagged edge. She grins to herself as his hand rests on her knee, fingers rubbing small circles there.

“You know, I joke to myself that you get so beat up because you come home so that I can heal you.” Yanelis teases, placing her staff down now that she’s ensured the bulk of the wound will mend properly. Reaching for bandages, she unrolls a strip in her hand as she meets his dark eyes. “Really, Gaius. How on earth did you get hurt this time? You told me you were going to talk with Raubahn.”

His head hangs immediately at hearing the worry in her voice, pout returning as he finds himself unable to look her in the eye. She grumbles as she wraps his wounds with gauze, cinching tighter than needed as he chooses to keep quiet. “Gaius van Baelsar,”

“I fell.”

The statement is so simple, yet so shocking, she stops her wrapping to stare blankly at him. Were his skin not so dark, she swears his face would be red as a beet. “You...fell?” She repeats.

Groaning loudly, he flops back against the couch. “I hadn’t lied when I said I had gone to visit Raubahn and discuss how we will continue to address the threats of more potential weapons from Garlemald.” He sighs, slapping a hand over his face in shame. “But...seeing us there, a few rookies had wanted to see the Brazen Bull and Black Wolf in action...I humbly declined but Raubahn thought a friendly spar would be good for morale.”

She watches as he hazards a glance at her, but her face has frozen in mild shock.

“It had started off completely normal...until I had lost awareness of my surroundings, and took a nasty tumble down the side of a small incline.” He huffs,  running a hand through his silken hair. “Raubahn insisted I see a medicus before returning home, but I declined and made the trek here instead. I was...expecting you to be out on business.”

It is silent for a few moments more as she continues to stare at him.

And then she laughs.

Twelve above, it is probably the ugliest laugh she has ever released in a good while, but she cannot help herself as she drops the gauze from her hand and nearly keels over from laughter.

From the corners of her eyes, tears spring and she can see Gaius’ pout become more pronounced as he yanks the gauze she dropped and continues to wrap his wounds himself. “I’m glad you find it so amusing.” He drones as her cheeks begin to hurt.

“Oh goodness,” She practically wheezes, a giggle slipping out here or there. “Oh your poor pride. I hope they didn’t laugh at you too hard.” She titters, smacking his hands away so that she can bandage him up properly.

“No. Unlike you they were actually concerned for my well being and didn’t laugh.” He snaps, throwing her an angry look, but she’s known him long enough to tell it has no bite to it. She can see that while embarrassed, her laughter has at least redirected her concern from thinking he had gotten into some terrible battle without telling her.

“I am concerned!” She snickers, reaching to peck his cheek. His resulting grumble only amuses her further as she feels his skin heat up beneath her touch. “How about I make your favorite tea, hmm? I’m sorry for laughing at you.” 

Fixing her with an unamused expression, he rolls his eyes. “Very well.”

Yanelis reaches to give him another kiss on the cheek but Gaius quickly turns his face to where her lips meet his. Flushing red, she sits back down, hands flying up to her petal soft lips as she takes in his bemused expression. Chuckling, he gives her a solid pat on the thigh before standing and heading toward the kitchen. 

“There. Now we’re even.”

[hexusproductions]

Another Life

Summary: The conversation of the superhero Titan and the villain Pleonexia, during one of their encounters. Author’s Note: Written yesterday for the birthday/anniversary of Pleonexia. It’s not connected to her birthday in any way but I wanted to write something for her.

“Why do you do this?” Titan asked.

Pleonexia paused, lifting her attention to him. He was still held tight, cables wrapped around and digging into his arms and legs.

“What do you mean?”

“Well.” Titan wiggled a little, enough to awkwardly prop himself up a bit, “Y’know, why do you do this? The whole supervillain thing?”

A barest curve downwards appeared on Pleonexia’s lips, remaining silent as she plucked another drawer from its base. Titan waited, knowing she was thinking about her answer.

“It makes me happy.” She finally told him. She tapped Crow’s arm and he opened the bag he was holding, allowing her to tip the drawer’s sparkling contents inside. Why celebrities chose a hotel in Fucsberg was beyond Titan.

“Really? That’s it?” Titan tried to sit up and slipped, Crow’s hand immediately going to the holster under his arm, “I like going to the gym but that doesn’t mean I’m about to start going around stealing barbells.”

Pleo chuckled, replacing the drawer and moving onto the next.

“You probably could, if you wanted to. You are strong enough to carry them to somewhere they could be resold, or melted down.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” Titan blinked, then shook his head, “No, be serious. There’s gotta be a real reason.” He watched Pleo take a wool scarf and wrap it around her neck, admiring the teardrop beads attached to the tassels. He clamped his teeth as he bent one arm behind, feeling the cords dig painfully into his skin. He tugged at the cord until Pleonexia’s eyes fell on him again.

“A real reason? Do you really think I need one?” She kept the scarf, running her gloved fingers across the fabric, before looking to Crow, “Please check on our Miss Vreeland. She may have regained consciousness by now.”

“Yes m’lady.” Crow nodded, leaving the bag with her. Titan didn’t miss how Crow’s eyes burned into him as he left the room. He’d gotten friendlier looks from death traps.

“Titan.” Pleonexia said, drawing back his attention.

“I don’t know, I just think there’s gotta be some reason you decided to become a supervillain.” He answered her earlier question, rolling onto his back, sandwiching his hand between his back and the floor “I don’t think it’s because you’re green, because you love yourself too much for that.”

Pleo hummed, and he couldn’t tell whether it was amusement or agreement. While she knelt down to double-check her haul, Titan kept pulling at his restraints. The cable was seamless, no obvious ties. It was part of the design, specifically tailored for those with super strength. Pleo loved to use them against him. They couldn’t tighten any further once set, so if he could somehow wiggle out-

Pleonexia stepped closer towards him, and Titan froze, looking at her immediately.

“Come on, be honest.” “He said, keeping his tone level. Pleo eyed him, gaze not icy but definitely guarded.

“If you’re searching for some life-changing event that turned my whole world on its head, I’m afraid you won’t find it.”

“What, so there’s no possible timeline where you’re a cashier or something and I work at the zoo?” Titan smiled. Pleonexia frowned.

“No.” The distaste was clear.

“I’m just kidding.” Titan chuckled, rolling onto his side. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, legs folded.

“The only way I could see you in a zoo, Titan, is if you were in one of the habitats.” Pleo told him. Titan dropped his jaw and would have added even more dramatics if he weren’t tied up.

“That hurts.”

“Not as much as I would like.” Pleo returned, and a smile crept across her features, “I could do far worse.” Titan’s own smile fizzled, and he squirmed until Crow thankfully came back into the room.

“She’s awake, my lady. I managed to keep her from leaving.”

“Good.” Pleonexia’s smile shrank, but still lingered as she grabbed her already collected bags, “I will speak to her myself. Come along, little Titan.”

She waved a hand and Crow transformed into a sleek black bird, cawing as it darted back through the open bedroom door. Titan looked to Pleo and scooted back, but she smirked and raised her hand again, rolling it above his head. Red energy swirled around Titan’s body and he went skidding like a runaway skeeball, scrambling across floorboards and carpet until he reached the bedroom.

“Ow??” He exclaimed when he came to a stop. Crow hopped from where he was standing on the headboard, and Pleo strolled in shortly after the two of them.

“You poor thing.” She said with obvious mock sympathy, and chuckled as she came to a stop in the middle of the room. Miss Vreeland, still dressed up from a night out – hair and clothing now dishevelled from rough handling – was cowering against the door of the wardrobe, trying to keep as much space between her and Pleonexia as possible. Seeing her, Titan forgot about being tied up, and his body went tense.

“Nex. Don’t hurt her.”

She didn’t answer, eyes still on Vreeland. One hand drifted and Crow returned to human, dropping onto the mattress and standing up in the same movement.

“Please, please-“ Vreeland’s lipstick had smudged and her mascara was blotchy, wet with tears.

Titan saw that same smile Pleo had given him before, pleased and amused by Vreeland’s fear. He grimaced and yanked at his restraints, struggling against his own arms to get them further down.

“I must say, you have quite an expensive taste.” Pleo told her, “Your jewellery, for one, is quite lovely.”

“Please, I’ll pay anything-“

“You will.” Pleo confirmed. She took another step forward, and Vreeland shrivelled like a flower.

“Are we taking her with us?” Crow asked. Pleo clasped her hands in her lap, looking down on their hostage. Titan stifled a grunt as he finally got the cable to his elbows.

“No. I want her to move.”

Crow walked forward and grabbed Vreeland, picking her up and placing her out of the way. Pleo resumed striding forwards and threw the wardrobe open, a body no longer against the door. Pleonexia inhaled, a delighted gasp at the expanse of dresses and coats hung before her. Titan looked around her to Vreeland.

“Are you alright?”

“She’s fine, Titan. Besides some likely head trauma.” Pleo said over her shoulder as she pressed a blue floor-length dress against her body to check size, “Being awake does complicate things, but it is nothing I cannot fix.” Vreeland tugged against Crow’s grip on her arm.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Absolutely nothing, if you remain quiet.”

Vreeland immediately shut her mouth, still shaking like a leaf. Titan didn’t feel any humour anymore, and he looked down at his arms, managing to get a grip of the cables. He could hear Pleo still shifting through clothing, and he assumed Crow was holding onto Vreeland. If he could just make a little more progress…

“My lady.” Crow said firmly. Titan heard a hanger pause mid-slide, and a moment after, Pleonexia spoke.

“Stay where you are. I have no issue with killing Miss Vreeland where she stands.”

Titan froze. Slowly, he lifted his head. Pleo and Crow were both looking at him. Red light was already swirling around Pleonexia’s hand.

“Alright, alright.” He barely managed to lift his hands up, showing he was stopping, “Just leave her alone, okay?”

“It appears that is going to rely on you.” Pleo raised her hand into a wide sweep. Bear traps appeared across the bedroom floor, steel teeth glinting and covering the entire surface, save for a small circle each for Pleo, Crow, and Titan.

“Juvenile.” Titan accused.

“Maybe. But they should do.” Pleonexia replied. She started folding the dresses carefully and placing them into her collected haul.

Vreeland scrambled on her toes to get further into the safety of Crow’s space.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” She yelled. Pleo just took a fur coat from the wardrobe, pulling it onto her shoulders. It matched the scarf perfectly, and Pleo spun appreciatively.

“It’s alright, I’m going to get you out.” Titan told her. He hoped to calm her down, but it didn’t seem to work well when he, the superhero, was tied up and surrounded by traps.

“My lady.” Crow spoke up, “The time.”

“One moment, my dear.” Pleo said, using the time to revel a little more in her new coat. She turned, holding the ends of it closed with a smile, and took a deliberate step forward. Her gaze swept over Vreeland, then Titan. Vreeland shook her head, once again begging to give Pleonexia whatever she wanted. Pleo flicked her hand, and a bear trap went flying and latched around Titan’s leg. Titan screamed, curling into a ball. He couldn’t dislodge the metal, and blood dripped from the puncture wounds.

“Pleo!” He spat. Pleonexia smiled, flashing sharp canines beneath her lips.

“You’re bleeding on the carpet.”

She threw a bag to Crow and he slung it around one shoulder. Another red flash, and Vreeland recoiled from flapping wings as he flew out of the bedroom. Pleonexia’s own bag disappeared and Pleo, suddenly a large raven, flew after him. Titan cursed, both from the pain and from being thwarted.

[blu-joons]

Reignited Flame ~ Kim Taehyung

It felt like any other normal day at the studio. You showed up around lunchtime to eat with Taehyung, bringing him and the boys a few snacks to keep them going during their rehearsals.

You were scanned in at the front desk, making your way along the windy corridors to his dorm. Namjoon was the first to catch your eye, making his way out of his dorm and back to the studio.

His eyes caught you, but no words were spoken. He frantically glanced between the studio and you, trying to get the attention of someone else in the studio.

“Um, hi Joon?” You smiled, lightly waving. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Always.” He was unconvincing, worrying you slightly. He wasn’t the best in social situations most of the time anyway, but there was something incredibly suspicious about his behaviour right now.

You went to walk past him, but he stuck his arm out in front of you. “It’s really busy in the studio, why don’t you wait for him in his dorm?”

“Namjoon, what the heck is going on? You’re being strange.” He sighed, dropping his arm. You were too concerned to walk in, wondering what was playing on his mind. “Whatever it is, I want to know, has something happened to him?”

His head shook, biting the inside of his lip. He rubbed his hands over his face, one of his nervous habits you’d picked up on over time. “Please, don’t overreact or worry, everything is going to be alright. But Ji is in there.”

“Ji? As in ex-girlfriend Ji?”

“I’m sorry.” You nodded, taking a moment to take it all in.

She wasn’t someone Taehyung ever spoke fondly of, she was the first girl to truly break his heart, leaving it to you to fix it. They hadn’t broken up on the best of terms, he was bitter, and she was remorseful. You peered into the studio noticing the back of her head, talking to Taehyung.

“Why’s she here?” You decided to question Namjoon first, knowing he would be calm with you and answer your questions honestly. “Why is he talking to her?”

He sighed, resting his hand on your shoulder. “She just showed up this morning, we’ve tried to get rid of her, but Taehyung told us to leave it. We don’t know exactly what they are talking about, but we think we’ve got a rough idea.”

“You think she’s trying to get him back?” You struggled to hold back the tears, glancing at the two of them sharing a joke.

“Y/N remember he loves you, and he would never hurt you. I’m sure it’s nothing, we can’t go around and make predictions, only the two of them know what they are talking about.”

You nodded, placing your hand on the door handle. You ensured you made a loud noise as you walked in, all the boys charging over to you to get food, except for Taehyung.

“Hey love,” you smiled, your eyes looking anywhere but at Ji. “I bought food.” He nodded, scratching the back of his head. You could see he was torn, but you didn’t know why. Surely, he would choose his girlfriend any day of the week. “Tae?”

It was then you made the choose, you glanced over at Ji, a smug smile was across her face. You rolled your eyes, staring her up and down. She didn’t even bat an eyelid, standing her ground as if Taehyung was still hers.

“Taehyung, Y/N is here,” Jungkook nudged him towards you, his feet tripping him up. You grabbed his shoulder steadying him. His eyes still refused to look at you, the fear inside of you building.

“Are you not even going to acknowledge me?” You outrightly asked. You let go of him with force, placing your hands on your hips.

The looming silence was the only answer you needed. You looked at Jin who stood beside you, handing him the carrier bag of food you had bought for them all. “Right, well I’ll be heading off then.”

“No.” Yoongi argued, “you’re not going anywhere. If Taehyung is going to ignore you, then you can come and eat with us.” He grabbed your hand pulling him towards your dorm, the rest of the boys following behind you.

“You’re not going anywhere with them!” His deep voice bellowed.

You stopped, spinning on you heels. He moved a few paces ahead of Ji, pumping his chest up and down. You walked a little closer to him, a few inches were between you. “So, he does speak?”

“Y/N I- “

“-and he remembers my name. Don’t start making excuses, what the hell is going on with you? Her.”

He sighed, messing with his light-haired fringe. She came up by his side, resting her hand on his shoulder. Politely, you reached forwards, brushing it away.

“Are you cheating on me? Is that what this is, was I not good enough for you? Why is she here Taehyung? Do you have any idea how this makes me feel? I show up and you ignore me, I bring you food and you ignore me, and then suddenly when your friends want to bother with me you pretend to give a damn.”

“I do give a damn. I’ve always given a damn. I didn’t know she was going to show up today.”

“And yet you didn’t turn her away.” You took a few steps back, turning back to the boys. “When you realise how this looks and how this makes me feel, then you can come and look for me and give this so called damn you bang on about.”

You walked out of the studio, the boys following behind you. Namjoon went to direct you to his dorm, but you stopped. “It’s nice that you guys care, but I think I’m just going to head back to my flat, I don’t want to be here right now.”

“We aren’t going to stand in your way, but are you sure you don’t just want some company right now?”

You smiled over at Jin who spoke, shaking your head lightly. “You guys enjoy the food, just keep an eye on things, for me. I’ll let you know if I need any of you.”

“We will, we all promise.” They all nodded behind Jin, sharing glances into the studio. “We’re only a text away.”

“Thanks boys, I appreciate it.”

Your mind was confused, so many different scenarios played out in your head. The drive back to your home was long, it was painful. Taehyung could have been doing anything, and you weren’t to have a clue. The look she gave you as you left the studio terrified you, she’d openly talked about how she wanted him back, but surely Taehyung wouldn’t do that to you, he was more than that.

You laid out on the sofa, sticking the television on, trying to pay attention and take you mind off things. Any sound from outside made you jump that it would be Taehyung, only for the latch to stay tightly shut on the door.

The events of the day soon took over, your eyelids fluttering shut. You weren’t sure what the time was, and if you were honest, you didn’t care. Sleep overcame you quickly, as you snuggled down into the sofa cushions, tucking one underneath your head.

Later that evening, Taehyung appeared, he was quiet in unlocking the door, peering in to see your sleeping figure on the sofa.

You looked beautiful, your lips were slightly parted, your hair had fallen in front of your face, but that was the Y/N he had come to adore.

He couldn’t let this go on any longer, walking over and sitting by your body, shaking your shoulder slightly. “Y/N,” he whispered. The sounds of his familiar voice soon woke you, your eyes staring at his own.

“What do you want?” You sighed, rolling onto your back, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Are you alone?”

“Of course.”

You sat up on the sofa making room for him to sit. You crossed your legs, turning so you faced him, Taehyung doing the same. “I’m going to trust that there is a reasonable explanation for this, because I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”

“I wouldn’t,” he replied, taking a hold of your hand. “I never would. What you said earlier was right, I didn’t consider your feelings, and now I know how the situation looked.”

“So, what did she want?”

He cleared his throat, puffing out his cheeks. “She tried, she only tried to try and patch things up. Ask any of the boys, I turned her away. I told her I had found someone better, someone perfect, and that I didn’t want anything to do with her.”

“I’m not perfect Taehyung, far from it. I should have known you wouldn’t have done anything, it just panicked me when you didn’t respond, surely you understand that?”

“Of course. I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t expecting to see you, and then I knew how it looked. I knew what was going through your head, but I was scared if I did anything it would turn out to be the wrong thing.”

You squeezed his hand gently, nodding your head, understanding his own point. “She was really pretty, I thought maybe you’d saw her and thought you’d made a mistake by being with me.”

“What? Jagi, that’s nonsense, you’re the most beautiful person. I want you to listen to me loud and clear, Ji simply doesn’t compare to you, and as of today, she’s no part of my life, I told her today that there was no chance I’d ever let you go.”

“I should have listened to the boys,” you whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“They were trying to assure me that everything would be fine, but in the back of my mind I let my own insecurities get the better of me. Namjoon told me that you loved me and that you’d never hurt me, I should have known.”

He sat forward further, snaking his arms around your waist. “I know that you don’t always feel it, and I completely understand, but you don’t ever have anything to worry about, I am yours for however long you want me.”

“Forever sounds pretty good.”

“Then forever it shall be.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, I’m sorry I treated you so badly today, it wasn’t fair, and it isn’t okay. I’ll make it up to you.”

“There’s nothing to make up for. Knowing that you’ve turned her away and removed her from your life is all the assurance I need to know things are okay, and I’m incredibly happy. I love you Taehyung,”

You rested into his chest, stretching your legs out across the sofa. Taehyung’s arm snaked around your waist, squeezing your body tightly into his.

“Can we just forget all this ever happened? I brought home lots of those snacks so we could still eat them together.”

“That sounds amazing Tae, thank you love.”

---

Masterlist

[williamvapespeare]

i’m sure everyone already knows this, but @boopliette is one of the most incredible creative humans in the world, a fab part of my life, and a constant inspiration to me. she recently finished posting her AMAZING comic Dispersal Point, which everyone should check out here and which i started writing a fic about a long time ago (see: inspiration) and am only just getting around to posting. but really guys, go shower her comic with love it will make you FEEL.

anyway, enjoy my rambles about emily’s excellent space boys.

-

The sound of water always lulled him to sleep, Jack remembers.

Remembers, like it was a time to be forgotten, like it was a thing born of childhood nostalgia and not a given to be torn away by the rough hands of whatever it was that decided these things.

And anyway, what he found most calming about the water was its consistency.

It was always there, lapping at the sides of his boat, hugging the shoreline, lining the cliff walls on either side of it with perfect precision. He only had to look out his window or run a hand through his hair to feel its roughness from hours out in the salty air. Consistency, he thinks, will be the death of him.

He’s always been a strong swimmer and it’s been so long since he feared anything like drowning, but he feels it again now, every time he listens for the water and finds it distant, finds it fainter every day and sometimes, it seems, by the hour, like the slow stopping of a heart.

On the night he decides to stop sleeping, Ariel finds him first.

Well, really, he’s decided to stop the facade of attempting any sort of rest when he jolts awake every other hour with the feeling of dark water filling his lungs and cold hands around his throat. He’s started pacing instead, bitten his nails down to the beds, finds himself shivering in the night air, and he swears it never used to be this cold.

There’s a knock first, which in hindsight seems silly because there’s no one else left but thetwo of them, but Jack appreciates it nonetheless. He runs a hand over his face, squares his shoulders a little as if there’s any point left in keeping up appearances, and goes to open it.

Ariel looks, well, he looks much as he always does: tall and windswept, with that kind of far away look in his eye like he’s always on the verge of thinking up something important. Jack doesn’t say anything when he seems him, he just steps aside and then Ariel is in his room, leaning against the side of his desk and looking strangely at ease despite the unfamiliar space and the lateness of the hour. At a loss for what else to do, Jack sits down on the edge of his bed (traitor, he thinks, even though the sleepless night isn’t really the bed’s fault) and stares down at his hands, tightening them in his lap.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Ariel says, finally, by way of introduction. There’s a gruff edge to his voice that Jack hasn’t heard before, but to be fair they’ve never been close, so it’s possible he’s just never seen this side of Ariel.

Jack shakes his head.

“Something like that,” he says, wonders vaguely if he looks as raw as he feels, then realizes that there’s no point in caring anymore.

Ariel nods, with a kind of easiness that implies he knows and understands every thought running through Jack’s head that he can’t possibly put voice to, and for some reason it annoys Jack to no end. A part of him wishes that Ariel would get angry, would scream or cry or do anything that Jack would know how to deal with. He’s not sure what to do with this seemingly constant layer of comosure that Ariel never shakes. It makes him feel even more cracked apart than he already is, in comparison.

But Ariel, being Ariel, seems to notice it too: Jack’s discomfort, his hesitation, and he doesn’t push the subject of sleep, or the thinly veiled implications of why neither of them can.

“It’s colder now,” he says instead, matter of fact, quantitative observation, in the same way Jack has seen him point out the faulty wire in someone’s ship or diagnose an engine, as if it’s just something he’s noticed.

Jack pretends the words don’t feel like a punch to the gut and he nods, tries his best to ignore the sudden tightness in his throat.

“I noticed.”

Ariel continues.

“The plants are dying, I think.” He still manages to sound as if he’s merely talking about the weather. “Not that I know much about plants of course, but I noticed yesterday they’re starting to wilt. It’s like they’re cold too.”

He fixes Jack with a sad kind of smile, as if he’s just shared an inside joke and Jack supposes that’s what all jokes are between them now, with no one else around to laugh - or cry. Jack balls his hands into fists where they rest in his lap and speaks before he can think about it any harder.

“You could stay,” he says, aimed towards his fists. “If you wanted.”

He hears rather than sees Ariel walk across the room to him, feels the bed dip slightly as he sits.

“I’d like to, if that’s alright?” Ariel’s voice is quiet now, a question that isn’t really a question and Jack nods in response; he’s not sure if there’s anything left to say.

Ariel lies back on the bed and his hair spreads out like a dark fan, or a halo, around his shoulders. He looks comfortable in the small space of Jack’s own domesticity, more comfortable than Jack thinks he’s ever felt there himself and he’s not sure if he should be comforted or annoyed by the idea. He settles for somewhere in between.

“Would it help you to talk?” Ariel asks, his eyes fixed on the rough wood of the ceiling above them, like he’s studying it. He’s getting dangerously close to the emotion that jack is still doing his best to swallow back down into the constant low hum of panic inside of him, that he seems to always have plans to deal with at some undetermined later.

“I don’t think so,” he says finally, more honest than he’s comfortable with.

Which is stupid, he thinks, because Ariel seems like the last person who would have judged him for this kind of honesty at the best of times. And he doesn’t judge him now, simply nods, moving his head to look at Jack only briefly before he turns his gaze back to the ceiling.

Jack isn’t how long they lie in silence, but it only takes a moment before he starts listening for the sea again, out of habit, out of the need for something - anything - to distract him from the inside of his own head. He expects, as usual, for its silence to be deafening. He expects to have a few moments of fear, of shame, of acceptance, before he gets up and starts pacing again.

He’s surprised when something else catches his attention.

The sound of Ariel’s breathing next to him is soft. It would barely be noticeable if Jack weren’t already on such high alert, but it’s gentle and rhythmical and something about it reminds Jack of the ocean.

He doesn’t notice himself drifting off to sleep again.

He doesn’t notice until he starts awake some time later. He’s curled up nearer to the foot of his bed than he expects, with Ariel beside him, his back just visible in the dim light. The comforting rhythm of Ariel’s breathing is gone, replaced by the heavy, panting breaths of someone trying harder than they should to get air into their lungs.

He doesn’t sound like the ocean anymore.

Ariel’s shoulders shake once and Jack blinks exhaustion out of his eyes, starts to push himself up on one elbow before he thinks better of it. He’s lost here, in the face of Ariel’s pain, but he’s quite literally the only poor excuse for a person that Ariel has left and he feels that obligation, heavy and uncomfortable in his chest - the same way he’s felt during his own countless moments like this over the past week.

Still turned away from him, Ariel reaches one hand back, over what now seems like a vast distance of bed between them in a wordless plea for comfort. Jack hesitates for a moment, startled, unaware that Ariel even realized he was awake. Then, he takes the hand.

Immediately, Ariel tangles their fingers together and Jack recognizes that kind of desperate grip all too well, the kind you use when you’re drowning, and you scramble to grab ahold of anything that might keep you afloat. It shouldn’t scare him as much as it does, he thinks, to be that something.

He supposes that this kind of drowning is the same as anything else.

Ariel moves their joined hands closer, pulling Jack forward until his arm is draped over Ariel’s shoulder, his hand pulled in close to Ariel’s chest where he’s still curled away from him. He can feel Ariel’s breaths now, as well as hear them, hot and uneven against his arm and he tightens his grip.

Jack doesn’t sleep again for a long time, but he’s fairly certain that Ariel does, after a while, his back tucked up against Jack’s side and his hand loose in Jack’s where he can’t quite bring himself to let go now that he’s held on.

Despite the exhaustion starting to pulse at his temples and the desperation that seems to grow inside of him, more and more with each day they live through, he feels a strange sort of contentment watching over Ariel as he sleeps. It’s the same feeling he used to get when he felt the waves push underneath his boat, but kept it steady: certainty, consistency, of a kind he’s started to believe he would never feel again.

He knows that the steady rise and fall of Ariel’s chest under his arm is a fleeting comfort. But it’s there and it’s something and he latches onto it. It’s been between them this whole time, unspoken and horrifying in its implications, that no matter how long this lasts, they’re in it together. It’s a rule, like tides and the moonbeams that pull them: they will watch over each other for as long as they have left.

Eventually, Jack sleeps.

[keenerparkerstark]

All I see is green (2/?)

Ship: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Summary: Peter Parker feels on top of the world! Getting high grades at high school, spending time with Tony Stark (!!!) on his weekends, and at night, he roams the city as the hero known as Spider-Man! Everything changes when a new student shows up at Midtown who seems determined to take it all away from him.

AO3 | FF.net

Harley shoved his hands in between his tightly pressed together knees in order to hide their shaking and kept his eyes fixated on an oddly coloured stain on the carpet of which he did not dare to assume the origin. Meanwhile, Principal Morita was talking endlessly, obviously excited by the prospect of being in some way affiliated with the great Tony Stark.

Don’t get him wrong, Harley loved Tony, more than anyone else (except for maybe Rhodey and Pepper), and over the years he had known him, the man had grown to be like a father to him, but Tony had always been so secretive. He would show up unannounced at Harley’s house every once in a few months, and would spend a weekend there, talking and tinkering and just generally having a good time. Tony was a sarcastic asshole, but Harley rivalled him in the category and the banter they kept up together flowed flawlessly. And then he would disappear, as if he was never there, and Harley wouldn’t hear from him until the next time he would show up. It was an odd dynamic, and Harley couldn’t help but feel like Tony’s embarrassed of him somehow. It wasn’t surprising, of course, Harley was barely visible next to the titan that is Tony Stark, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt at all. This dance continued for years until he appeared. Jason…

Of course, Harley had wanted his mother to be happy, and Jason had been nice enough at first. But by the time his true nature started rearing its ugly head, his mother was deeply invested, head over heels in love with his manipulative sweetness. It still surprised him every time the hits came, though. That is, until Tony showed up unannounced at the worst (best?) possible moment and now Harley was sat across an enthusiastic principal of a fancy smart-kid school in New York.

“…I asked another student to be your buddy today. He should be here in a few minutes- Ah! There he is! Good morning, Mr. Parker, thank you for coming in early today.” Harley looked up at Principal Morita’s words, and saw a boy with a baggy jumper quietly close the door behind him, and tentatively sit down in the chair next to his. Harley smiled at him, and the boy smiled back.

“This is Harley Keener,” Principal Morita spoke up again, this time to the other boy, Parker. “He has recently moved to New York from Tennessee and wants to share his talents and knowledge with us here at Midtown.” Harley felt embarrassment and a hint of anger rise within him as lowered his head and scratched the back of his neck. God knows this man wouldn’t have been praising him if he knew he was just a simple boy from Tennessee who just happened to almost shoot Tony Stark with a potato gun.

“I’m just here to learn, Principal Morita,” he muttered dejectedly.

“Nonsense,” the man boomed, slamming his hand into the table in his enthusiasm, startling both teens, “You came in mid-term with personal recommendations by Tony Stark himself!” From the corner of his eye, Harley noticed Parker’s head shoot up at the mention of Tony’s name.

“Tony… Stark,” he stammered, and Harley rolled his eyes. Was this the first step to being bombarded with questions about Tony for the rest of his school career? “This is precisely why I wanted you to be Harley’s buddy during his first week here at Midtown,” Principal Morita continued. “Since you are Mr. Stark’s personal intern and all…” This caused Harley to look up and slowly turn his head to face the brown-haired boy beside him. He felt a sudden surge of anger and protectiveness as he thought back to Tony’s compound, achingly empty with the ghosts of his former colleagues ubiquitous. The man who saved him does nothing but work in order to make everybody else’s lives easier, and here was a little high school boy who pretended to know and work for Tony in order to get into better colleges, or whatever.

“You’re not Tony’s intern,” he snapped, and boy looked taken aback, almost offended in his surprise.  

“I- I am, I’m- I-.” Harley’s glare intensified and he leaned forward towards Parker.

“You’re what?”

“Now, now, play nice, boys,” Principal Morita interrupted, his voice significantly more serious than before, having obviously caught on to the confrontation. “You have both brought in statements signed by Mr. Stark stating that you are his personal intern. Maybe he simply has not yet got to introduce you to each other yet.” Impossible. Harley couldn’t think about Tony unashamedly taking this high-school aged boy into his workshop and tinkering, and bantering, introducing him to his friends and his fiancé, whilst Harley was being beating to a pulp behind the garage he had first met the man. Simply impossible.

“Here’s your schedule and your locker number and combination,” Principal Morita sighed, handing Harley an envelope. “I hope you have a wonderful first day at Midtown High.”

“Thank you, Principal Morita,” Harley nodded politely, and stood up, making his way out of the office without even glancing back at Parker. He almost started running, the moment he was out of sight, desperate to stay as far away from the boy as he possibly could. He didn’t want to believe Parker was telling the truth. He didn’t want to deal with the implications. He didn’t want to risk feeling hurt, confronting Tony, only to hear that he was indeed embarrassed of Harley. That he was a burden, and Tony felt obligated to hang out with him. That he’d rather Harley packed his bags and moved back home.

Deep down, where his voice of reason currently resided, Harley knew that Tony wasn’t like that. If anything, the man was just emotionally stunted, caused by layers upon layers of cruel betrayal, but Harley knew only betrayal from his father figures before Tony, so why would this be any different? Footsteps behind him told him that the boy had finally caught up with him.

“S-so, what’s your first class?” The kid asked, his voice trembling, most likely from straining to keep up with him. Harley ignored him, and picked up his pace, expecting to easily outpace the skinny looking boy. Before he knew what was happening, though, the other teen had rushed past him and blocked his way abruptly, leaving Harley unable to stop in time and running into him. “Come on, I’m just trying to help you here. Mr. Stark-“ At the mention of Mr. Stark’s name, Harley felt the anger (and hurt) inside him grow burning hot and he raised his finger, shoving it into the boy’s face.

“Listen up, punk,” he snarled. “Tony Stark may be your little nerdy wet dream but he is an actual person. You can’t just go around making up some shit about a fake internship, that I know for a fact is absolute bullshit; Tony doesn’t hire interns, nearly nobody is even allowed to enter his lab, just so you can go around and skip class without getting in trouble. You’re a fucking fraud, who falsified some documents to make it look like he is interning with Tony Stark.” Harley was yelling at this point, his face felt hot as he prodded his finger into the kid’s chest. Parker raised his hands as if to pacify Harley, but it only made him angrier. Neither of them even noticed the growing crowd of students that was forming around the confrontation.

“You are not Tony Stark’s intern, you’re not in any way affiliated with Stark Industries. You’re a liar and a fraud and I am going to expose you for it.” With those words, Harley pushed past Parker and rushed further down the hall, before faltering around the corner, realising he wouldn’t know where to go without a guide.

With the anger almost instantly rushing out of his body, Harley felt embarrassed. He had thrown a complete temper tantrum and said awful things to a boy who, now that he thinks of it, had only ever tried to be helpful and kind. Even if he was lying about his internship with Tony Stark, did he really deserve to be treated like that? Pushing through his rising guilt, Harley looked at the envelop in his hand, and finally opened it to take out his schedule. He stared. And blinked. And stared again. The amount of unrecognisable numbers and letters was daunting and added to his current emotional state of mind, he could not make sense of the jumble on the paper before him.

“Hey, I just wanted to see thank you for calling Parker back there out on his lies.” Harley looked up and saw a boy with dark eyes and a smug grin leaning against a wall near him. “I’ve been trying to tell my peers that he is a lying scumbag, but nobody would believe me, because he looks so innocent, you know?” So, Parker definitely was lying about his internship, then, Harley concluded to himself. And it even sounded like he had been giving the boy in front of him a rough time. He latched onto these comments to push down the guilt that aggressively tried to drown him, and smiled back at the boy.

“He had it coming,” he responded. “I can’t stand people who lie and bully.” The boy grinned back at him, and then let his gaze slide down towards where Harley was still clutching the senseless piece of paper that was supposed to tell him where to go.

“You’re new? Can I look at your schedule?” Harley nodded gratefully and handed over the paper. The boy looked at it for a brief moment, and his grin was back with full force as he turned to Harley.

“Would you look at that,” he said cheerfully, “our schedules are exactly the same! If you’d like, I can show you around today. My name’s Flash.” Harley looked at the kid holding out his hand to shake and didn’t hesitate to shake it, as he introduced himself. “I’m Harley.” Flash was… interesting, to say the least. He was kind enough to Harley, always happy to help him out, and wasn’t grilling him for information about Tony Stark. But the way he treated people around him seemed off. He would sometimes yell at his friends out of nowhere, or aggressively bump into people in the hallway. If he caught Harley looking, he would flash that familiar grin and shrug, as if it wasn’t a big deal, but it was hard to ignore. However, when Flash tripped Parker over as he was walking down the hallway and the boy fell to his knees in front of them, Harley couldn’t help the sadistic heckle that escaped him. Parker’s brown eyes looked at him, and hurt was plainly visible on his face, but he was up and gone before Harley could think about it.  

By the time his final period of the day, English class, came around, he felt as if he had run a marathon. He was exhausted to his bones, and he felt his eyes drooping as the woman at the front of the classroom droned on endlessly. A sharp jab to his side woke him up abruptly, and he tuned in, just as his teacher sternly addressed Parker, who was sat at the front of the classroom.

“Mr. Parker, am I so boring that must resort to playing video games on your phone during my class?”

“I- I’m sorry, Mrs. Winterhalter, I’ll pay attention.” Flash started laughing quietly at Parker’s expense and Harley couldn’t help but join in, in a sick way enjoying the way it made him feel to laugh at somebody else’s misery. Mrs. Winterhalter squinted her eyes sternly at them and they quieted down, trying to keep straight faces.

“See to it, Mr. Parker,” she added, and went back where she had left off before. Harley felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and took it out stealthily to check. It was a text from Tony.

TONY STARK I’m outside, kid

He felt his heart jump up at the prospect of seeing his friend-turned-father figure again, after the confusing day he had had. Just as he put his phone away to turn back to the lesson, the bell rang to signify the end of the period and students started rushing out of the classroom. Harley also frantically started packing his belongings, and made for the door, followed on his heel by Flash.

“Hey, Harles, are you in a hurry?” He slowed down his pace.

“My… uh… my dad is waiting outside.”

“Oh, cool, I bet you’re stoked to go home after such a long day.” Harley let out a relieved laugh at Flash’s understanding, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders just as they stepped outside.

“Quite stoked, yeah,” he laughed. Flash was just about to reply, when he was interrupted by a voice in the distance yelling: “Hurry up, Harley!”

“That’s my dad,” Harley hastily explained, scared that Flash would see the figure by the car and realise that he’s claiming that Tony Stark is his father. “I have to go now. Thank you for everything.”

“No problem, dude,” Flash responded with surprising kindness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Harley waved goodbye and started running towards Tony, who was still looking around.

“Hey, old man, I’m right here.” Tony grinned at him.

“You better watch what you’re saying, boy,” he warned without a trace of seriousness. “Do not go around calling me old. How was your day at school? Where’s Peter?”

“It was fine, I- Who’s Peter?” Tony looked at him with a confused frown.

“Peter? Peter Parker? Damnit, don’t tell me the principal screw this up! Morita told me he’d have Peter be your buddy so you could meet him! I figured you two would be best friends by the time you stepped out of this building. You are so alike!” Harley could see the dawning horror on his own face in the reflection of the tinted windows behind Tony.

“Oh, fuck…”

[aerislei]

Dabi: Analysis and Headcanon

So, I can’t really discuss Dabi at length without the Dabi-is-Touya thing coming into play, so I’m blending that headcanon post and my general analysis of the guy. I was going to try to split them into two posts, but much like my discussion of Stain and Endeavor they are too woven together in my mind for it to be worth doing. One post or the other would suffer for it. So... here we are.

Warning, long ass post below

So, I was first exposed to the headcanon via fanfiction, that I probably should have been reading when I was but here we are. We’re shown this guy for like, no time at all in season 2. Just long enough for his design to be intriguing. And tag diving and fanfiction filled out a few small pieces without revealing much that I didn’t know about the guy already.

So let’s talk about what we know about this guy. We know he feels strongly about the Hero Killer’s cause - not Tomura’s but Stain’s. We are deliberately introduced to him with that knowledge. This particular brand of ideology reminds us that he doesn’t actually just want to watch the world burn... though I’m sure he does to an extent, but he has something against false heroes.

We know he doesn’t like or have much patience for Tomura, but he IS willing to work with him. We also get a shot of him, in season 3, just kind of massacring several ‘small fry’ villains because they weren’t the kind of people they needed. ... Now there are multiple reasons this could be a thing. But it felt like a call back, in a sense, to Stain not liking guys who were just killing without conviction, because they were no better than the false heroes. It could also have just been meant to tell us that Dabi is “slightly” unhinged.

He made a point about not giving Tomura his real name, stating, essentially, that it would be revealed when the time was right. Which I found to be really, really interesting given on the surface that seems like an odd thing to want to hide because all the other Villains shared their real names with each other. (Barring Tomura, ironically, but they didn’t know that at the time).

Now it could be his way of separating himself from them because he doesn’t trust them, but it could also be because I’m pretty sure if you go around telling people your last name is Todoroki you get noticed, fast.  It’d be hard not to, given it’s clear that Endeavor’s real name isn’t a great secret - else no one would have been so certain Shoto was his son, at the sports festival.

But there’s something else I want to put out here - when the Hideouts were attacked, Dabi’s name was, as far as I can recall, the only name not revealed by the Heroes who had been investigating. Now they make a point near his entrance, of stating that Dabi hasn’t done anything “flashy” but let’s be real here, if he’d been doing flashy shit with that quirk, Endeavor would have known.

Which brings us to... the fact that we know his quirk consists of blue flames.

Does anyone else remember Endeavor briefly using blue flames? because I do.

Yeah, that’s endeavor, using blue flames to blow up the Nomu’s head during the Stain arc fight.

So it’s established that Hellflame can generate blue flames. I would consider it to be absolutely not much of a jump to say the Hellflame quirk could have mutated into primarily blue flames in one of Endeavor’s children. Cremation, or whatever we decide to call Dabi’s quirk, is essentially Hellflame turned up to 11. And being realistic we haven’t seen that many similar quirks. The only other ‘similar’ pair I have off the top of my head is Tetsutetsu and Kirishima, and they are fundamentally different in a way that “generating and controlling [differently colored] flames” just... aren’t.

... It’s far harder to find a good shot of endeavor’s eyes than I realized. Anyway, so the lighting difference is baaad, but look at this shot, and then look at Dabi up there - the eyes are not that far apart in coloration. In the second shot, in very similar lighting, Shoto’s teal eye is slightly lighter than Dabi’s but the coloration is, again, not very far apart.

Speaking of that night. Couple things of note: it could have been because he didn’t have to, they had what they wanted, but Dabi made no genuine attempt to hurt any of our three idiots rescuers - Shoji, Shoto, and Midoriya were merely batted away when it came to Dabi - now, Toga is another story but you know.  He didn’t have to, of course, he had the others to do it, and like Spinner he may have some small amount of respect for Shoto and Midoriya, at least, because they continue to selflessly sacrifice themselves to protect their friends.

But this does, again, highlight something pretty important - one, it’s a reminder that he believes in the hero killer’s ideology, and two, regardless of his apparent enjoyment in killing, he doesn’t actually do so indiscriminately.

There’s something else about this scene I found very interesting - he gets the ball holding Bakugo, narrowly stopping Shoto from grabbing it, says something like "That's sad... Shoto...Todoroki." and I feel like that’s the only name he used the entire time, despite the fact that Shoto is not the only one who’s well known at this point. It’s an odd thing to latch onto, but here I am. ... Also I can’t quite describe those expressions, tbh, because I’m terrible at it, but... something about them that I can’t quite get out of my head. *shrug*

So, moving on a little. Ages. The wiki gives Dabi’s age as ‘early 20s’ but I can’t actually figure out where that’s coming from. Even so, that gives us a rough cut off of 24/25. Toya’s age isn’t given at all. Shoto is the youngest at 15, Natsuo is 19, and a college student. Fuyumi is 22 and a teacher. Considering that was still early in their marriage, he could be 23/24 and that would still fit into the window of Dabi’s “early twenties”. So let’s call him 23, just a year older than Fuyumi, for the purpose of the rest of this discussion.

So the only thing this really left, for me, is ... why? I’ve spent a lot of time musing on that one, so hang with me here and we’ll go over the way I see it at the moment with the pieces of the puzzle that we have.

Touya would be the eldest Todoroki, he would have been the first to age out of that destructive house. But here’s the thing - he was the oldest he had to spend his entire life watching his father abuse his mother - all the way until Shoto was burned. He was a “failure”, but he was also the eldest, the one his father should have been proud of.

There could be an element of jealousy for the fact that each time a new child was conceived Endeavor looked to them to give him what he wanted. He was the first, he probably had his own cruel training early on, that may or may not have continued depending on his sibling’s quirks (we still don’t know Fuyumi’s or Natsuo’s.). Now, Touya was 8 when Shoto was born, which means he was at most 12 when Shoto was pushed into training and he got a reprieve - but he also had to shoulder the guilt of knowing what his youngest brother was being put through.

And then Rei dumped boiling water on Shoto, and the one source of love and comfort other than his younger siblings was sent away. But he was the oldest, he was supposed to be the strong one. Based on the flashbacks, Shoto was 5 or 6 when Rei snapped, which means... Touya here was only 13 or 14 when their mother went away. That’s pretty young to suddenly have at least two of his three younger siblings looking up to him because remember, Endeavor paid them basically no attention, Shoto was the one that mattered after his quirk manifested.

That’s pretty much prime placement for something like Stain’s ideals to break in. Touya grew up with first hand experience of one of the top heroes of the nation - and that top hero was by all accounts of his family a terrible person - at the time. I’m sure it took a few years, whether Touya stayed in that house with his family or he ran away as a teen before he came of age. 

But at some point after he got away from Endeavor, Stain’s ideals became known. And in the darkness of Touya’s heart, darkness that is born of his hatred for Endeavor, and potentially for the society that left him and his siblings to suffer at Endeavor’s hands, Dabi was born - because Stain was right. False heroes were hurting people. They were merely using their positions for their own personal gain. And Touya already bore the scars of a hero just like that so of course someone aiming to make it stop would be intriguing to him.

Forcing a rebirth of the world in fire and blood may be wrong, it may be evil from it’s roots all the way to it’s execution but the ideals that brought it on were put into place by MHA’s modern society. 

As for where it goes from here... I’m not sure. I look forward to seeing more about Dabi going forward. If I’m right, in reference to him being Touya, I suspect there will be some kind of conflict between him and Endeavor, whether he is recognized or not.

On the other hand, that’s one of those conflicts that’s likely regardless - after all Endeavor is currently our number one hero, thanks to All Might’s retirement.

I think my favorite part about this show though is that, for the most part, the villains are just as interesting and deep as the good guys.

[samingtonwilson]

Return - Part 1 - Jim Kirk

Summary: takes place during sequences of star trek beyond; the last few years of episodic space travel have been taxing on jim as his heart remains with you and the abronath remains with him. a trade-off is imminent, however, when he spots you and someone else spots the artifact. (series following loot; no real reason to read it, though)

Warnings: language, lil angsty

A/N: finally! i missed reader from loot so much and i’m so excited to write that character again! the story is going to be like star trek beyond but with a VERY large addition. so! should be good, should be long. we’ll see! (i’ve tagged those of you i used to tag for loot just in case!) peace out

 It was a long time in the making— two years and three months, to be precise. 

Jim wanted to rid the Enterprise of the artifact as soon as he was alerted of its presence on the starship. He wanted to launch it into open space and watch it freeze up, watch it drift away from his life— hopefully with any memory pertaining to it. 

But planetary emergencies, more pressing peace negotiations, and other Federation business caused the artifact to drift from priorities. It was logged in the archives and remained there— neutralized as much as can be and collecting whatever dust could cling to the protective case. 

As more time passed, Jim found himself increasingly hesitant to set course to Teenax and finally pull the Abronath from the depths of the ship. 

Not because time had led to an increased attachment to the damn thing, but rather because he wasn’t as mentally prepared, as filled with anger as he once was. Facing the issues that caused the last two years and three months of space travel to stretch on like taffy in episodes that melted and oozed together was a daunting task— a task the slump-shouldered Captain didn’t think he could handle anymore. 

So as he stood and spoke before the Teenaxi Delegation gingerly clutching the case he avoided meeting the gaze of at all costs, he could see and feel his own exhaustion, his own reluctance. 

He thought right then that he actually might have grown attached to it. Though it sat in the archives and was long-forgotten by the crew, it had become a source of comfort for him. After all, loving was so short but forgetting was so long and on the self-indulgent days that led forgetting to seem like an impossible chore, the artifact was a trace of you. 

The artifact served as a reminder that he couldn’t feel his heart beating in his chest because it was somewhere far away— lying beside the perpetrator, beside someone who was likely unaware of its presence. He didn’t know its precise location, didn’t know what condition it was in, but he knew you still had it— as much as he wished that wasn’t true, as much as he’d tried otherwise. 

Jim stared at the creatures perched several stories above him, seated all around him so he stood in the middle like the circus performer he likened himself to. Their rough skin was grooved and dented to form spikes and wide features that were contorted in anger and suspected dissatisfaction as they leaned forward, extremely muscular arms holding them against the barrier while they clung onto it with curved, sharp claws. 

Jim swallowed, stood up straighter, and began the introduction Spock had written, “My name is James Tiberius Kirk of the United Federation of Planets. I am appearing before you as a neutral representative of the Fibonan Republic. I bring you a message of goodwill and present to you, esteemed members of the Teenaxi Delegation, a gift from the Fibonan High Council with the highest regard.” 

Jim’s voice sounded machine-generated even to himself— he wanted to roll his eyes at it but instead pulled the ends of the case, the lid coming open to reveal the round artifact. 

The Teenaxi stared. The creature Jim focused majority of his drony spiel upon leaned further— he carried a scepter so Jim thought focusing on him was a safe bet. “What’s wrong with it?” a curious, deep echo-like voice resonated through the stone room. 

Want a list? Jim thought to himself as he held back a snort. He sounded exhausted as he asked, “Uh, excuse me?” 

“Why don’t they want it anymore?” 

“Uh, well, this was once a piece of an ancient weapon and now they offer it as a symbol of— of peace,” the irony hadn’t hit him until now and he suppressed the heaviest of sighs. His tongue darted out to wet his lips instead. “In the Fibonan culture, to surrender a weapon is an offer of truce,” he was going off-script and could smell the bullshit rolling off his tongue. 

“How did they come by it?” 

“They told me they acquired it a long time ago.” And then it was stolen, stolen again, almost destroyed our ship, and here we are. 

“So they stole it then?” 

He almost snorted again. “No, they, um— well, I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know the Fibonans like we do.” That caused sufficient clamor— the creatures beside the central one began shifting in a defensive fashion. 

Jim shifted on his feet a little. He held the artifact up a bit and finally glanced down at it. His stomach flipped. “That’s very true. Your excellency, this gift—” 

“They’re a crowd of untrustworthy thieves,” he leaned forward more, his volume was growing, the clamoring was increasing, “who want to see us murdered in our own beds—” 

“This beloved,” he could have thrown up at that, “artifact is a symbol of trust,” he could have doubled over at that, “and peace—” 

“They want to chop us into pieces and roast us over a fire!” he was shouting now, slamming his hands against the barrier so it shook under a weight Jim couldn’t even imagine. 

Jim, tired, shook his head disbelievingly and scowled, stating matter-of-factly, “I don’t think that’s true.” 

The creature shook before Jim, practically whining out, “And eat us.”

Jim shut his eyes as he rolled them, incredulous. “What?” 

The creature, before Jim knew it, tucked in on himself and rolled down the extensive walls. Tumbling down easily, he untucked as he landed before Jim. 

Watching in fear and amusement, Jim raised his arms to block himself as if his ineffectual fight-stand would defend him against creatures that looked and sounded so strong and— 

His mouth fell open and he tilted his head as the Teenaxi leader roared— the voice no longer echoed, the muscles no longer looked large. 

The creature was the size of a common Earth pomeranian. Jim could have laughed. 

But, before a single laugh could leave his lips, the creature leaped and latched itself to Jim’s shoulders, pulling him back as sharp nails dug into his command yellow tunic. Jim swung his arms back, trying to rid himself of the pesky thing and maybe bonk the creature in the head with the artifact. 

It was to no avail, however, and, incomprehensibly, each creature hiding in the alcoves of the high-above seating area rolled down the walls and latched themselves onto Jim. He grunted and groaned as he attempted to shake them off— but to, once again, no avail.

“Scotty!” Jim shouted into his communicator, his now disheveled hair was scattered before his eyes. “Get me out of here!” 

“That was quick!” the Scottish voice quipped in amused surprise. 

“Scotty!” Jim shouted once more, screaming out as he watched another Teenaxi scurry towards him and leap atop his shoulders to smother his breathing. 

“There’s quite a bit of surface interference, sir.” 

Jim groaned in frustration and ran towards a less populated portion of the room, kicking a few small-dog-sized creatures away and lunged towards the corner of the room. He fell and screamed, “Scotty!” before the familiar weightlessness and gold rings surrounded him. 

When he appeared onto the transporter pad of the Enterprise, two Teenaxis clung to him— one around his shoulders that tried to dig sharp nails into his face and another around his leg. He was finally able to shake them off along with his boot, sighing and picking up the strewn shoe with more force than necessary. 

He took defeated, exhausted steps towards his chief engineer, sighing. “I ripped my shirt again.” 

Scotty, unable to offer the mess of a man the slightest bit of a genuine smile, asked, “How’d it go?” 

Jim walked through the Enterprise, hair sticking up on all ends, as he held his boot in one hand and the artifact in the other. A part of him, a larger part than he was willing to admit, was satisfied that you hadn’t left the ship— or rather, the artifact hadn’t left the ship. 

He glanced down at it as he marched through the cavernous corridors with lights bright enough to force his eyes into an exhausted squint. He hoped his shabby appearance would ward off any conversation with the crew and what crewmembers weren’t warded off by his torn uniform and scathed forehead were eventually sent away by the large scowl over his lips. 

Jim groaned inwardly as he spotted the two men in blue shirts headed in his direction, one wielding a tricorder and the other wielding a haircut he hoped would be abolished on New Vulcan. He turned a corner and sighed as the two followed, flanking him on either side.

“Captain, did you manage to broker a treaty with the Teenaxi?” Spock asked on Jim’s right. The half-Vulcan’s tone suggested he already knew the answer.

Jim cleared his throat silently. “Uh,” he stretched as he limped on his uneven footing and tried not to focus on the mechanical whirring to his left, “let’s just say I came up short.”

He held up his boot. “Will you log that and put it in the vault, Spock?” Upon noticing that it was his shoe, Jim sighed. He tossed Spock the Abronath as he’d originally intended. “Thank you.” 

Leonard took that brief silence and Spock’s exit down a connecting corridor as his opportunity to speak. “Jim, you look like crap.” 

“Thank you, Bones.” 

“You got that little vein poppin’ out of your temple again. You okay?” Though his tone suggested a lighthearted joke, Leonard really wanted to know. 

As he’d bore witness to his friend’s experiences over the previous three years in space, he knew what the recent two years and three months had done. He knew how taxing they were on Jim and he knew how taxing they must have been on you— he didn’t dare tell Jim that, though. 

In Jim’s eyes, Leonard was solely on his side while Leonard still held your friendship as close to him as he could. He knew how happy you’d made Jim, he knew how you made space look exciting to the Captain again, and he knew how much he, himself, valued you. 

You two continued to share contact in the routine transmissions and holocalls, sharing the details of your week with one another while he tipped a glass of bourbon to you and you tipped a bottle of water at him. You never divulged the gory details of your heart’s condition to him but he could see your features change whenever he mentioned Jim.

Just yesterday, he told you liked your shorter hair and you scowled. 

When he mentioned that Jim was finally taking the Abronath to Teenax with the intention of never seeing it again, he saw you shift a little. He knew you, and Jim for that matter, had attached part of your identity to the artifact and saw its departure as your official departure from the ship for good. He almost laughed when he realized that final departure came two years after you physically left.

“Never better!” Jim answered with that dry edge to his voice. “Just another day in the fleet.”  

Leonard let a corner of his lips quirk up sarcastically. “You sure about that, kid? You’ve looked better.” 

They rounded the hall and Jim shook his head. “How many times are you going to tell me how bad I look? I don’t think I’ll be able to look into a mirror for a year now.” 

“You say that like you haven’t been avoidin’ every reflective surface you come across.” 

“You think I get hair like this without looking in a mirror?” 

Leonard looked at the messy blonde hair that shot up on one side and was fluffed on the other. “Hair like that? Yes.” 

Jim sighed once more and Leonard almost asked if he was being paid to do that. Instead, the doctor continued to follow Jim through the halls. “Bummed we’ve still got that atrocity on board?” 

“Spock? No, I’ve warmed up to him.” 

Leonard snorted. “You know what I’m talking about.” 

Jim’s smooth steps faltered for a moment— a moment he thought Leonard wouldn’t catch. He thought wrong. “Do I?” 

“Jim, —” 

“It’s been two years, Bones. I’ve— I’ve moved on.” 

Leonard stopped and watched his friend walk on, calling out, “Decide which one of us you’re tryin’ to convince, then come find me.”

part 2

tagged: @outside-the-government @daughterofthebrowncoats @multifandom-slytherin@buckyy3s @cinema212 @caaptain @dani-fae @wonders-of-the-enterprise@imaginesofdreams @the-witching-hours12-3 @kaitymccoy123 @anyakinamidala @vevsee 

I’M TAKING TAGS FOR THIS STORY SO LET ME KNOW WITH AN ASK MESSAGE IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN FUTURE PARTS!

[zanaakhabila]

Zana Drabble #1) Of Court and Corsets

OOC:  This one’s dedicated to the men and women over at the Bandee Pakshee- they all know who they are and are amazing people to boot, and I feel honored that they took me into their close-knit group so quickly. Thank you, everyone!  Zana appreciates you, and so do I!

***

Well, this whole trip to Ishgard hadn't been quite what she'd thought it would be.  But when the staff of the Chronicle pretty much broke in and interrupted what had been shaping up to be such a wonderful social occasion- and everything had suddenly started going ninety malms an hour shortly after. Apparently one of the Chronicle's reporters had gotten themselves arrested by the Ishgardian Inquisition, and in Zana's case, that could be a Bad Thing.

First off, it had stopped her from probably getting any kind of action that night- not really a Bad Thing, but having been revved up pretty consistently for the past few days due to events, she was all set to be indulged on and having a wonderful old time with her brand-new friends and then this had to happen.  But she could deal; that was the reason she liked long handles on her daggers and detachable sheaths for her knives on her belt- it made long nights alone a hell of a lot more bearable.

Then Rommie had decided she was going to go off to Ishgard and see what she could do to help out.  This was a Bad Thing because not only was the woman Zana felt she owed her life to in danger, well, if there was a woman that she would lay everything on the line for, it was Andromeda Dulaque.

Not to mention that she was incredibly attractive, and had something going on that just drove Zana absolutely wild- in fact, they'd engaged in a rapid-fire round of some of the hottest flirting she'd ever had a chance to be part of.   It had capped off with a promise of a spar after Rommie's aether settled down and she recovered, with some... interesting implications attached to it.  

She was looking forward to that spar, no matter the outcome.  Win or lose, it wasn't something Zana would ever forget was coming.

But now, they were stashed up in the house of a friend of Rommie's and while the above airship dock was kind of loud, Zana had to admit it was a nice house.  The furnishings along must have cost more than every gil Zana had ever seen, stolen, borrowed, begged, or earned. But life, apparently, was full of surprises- even as she rose in the morning, ready to see whatever there was that she could do to help out the cause of the Vath tribesman and the Chronicle reporter.

There was, thankfully, enough room for her to stretch out and warm her body up- standing in the sun of the window, Zana relished the feeling of the morning sun upon her body even as she stretched her arms over her head to get the kinks out.  

When she got home, she was going to request a personal room with at least one sunward window.

Dressing in a simple outfit of pants, shirt, and coat, Zana made ready to go to meet the others when there was a knock upon her door.  

She really, really, really hoped it was Rommie.  But it wasn't.

A middle-aged Elezen stood there, in full housecoat and everything.  He held a note in his hand, and even as Zana opened and read the note, he was busy taking her hand and pulling her along.

“Miss Akhabila... appointment... clothing merchant?”

Even as they cleared the door (where she made a half-hearted wave to the others, all seated and ready to enjoy a nice breakfast while she managed to scrounge up some dried fruit that seemed to have the texture of shoe leather), Zana could not understand just why she needed new clothes- but then, well... she remembered the last night. About how Rommie had said she needed a new set of clothes to help represent her when she went to go talk to people about the Vath and the reporter.

Dragged through the snowy streets of Ishgard, towards the Pillars district, Zana could only gawk at the city.  It was still recovering from the end of the Dragonsong War, but the damage was still piling up- and even a wrong step could hurt, as she found out after she simply tripped over a hunk of stone in the street.  Not that that stopped her guide from dragging her along.

Before long, she was pulled into the ground floor of what she could only suspect was one of the largest clothing merchants in all of Ishgard. Shelves and racks of clothes were everywhere, and while most of it was made for Elezen sizes, there were a few piles of things for other races.  That's where she expected to go- they'd show up, grab a few nice things, pay for them, and then it would be back to the house where they'd rendezvous with the others and come up with a battle plan.

That idea went right out the window when the guide pulled a curtain aside and pushed her through, drawing an angry squawk from the Hyur as she rubbed her arm.

“All right, dear, Miss Dulaque is paying a pretty penny for all this, so come on, off you go, let's get those old rags off of you and into something that's a bit more suited for where you're going.”

That came from a female elezen, who was currently brandishing a measuring tape and thread. Beside her stood a younger one, who held a board with some paper and a pencil to write with.

“Blue hair... you must be the lucky one. She's paying for all of this, you ought to feel honored!  Come now, the sooner you take those things off, the faster it will be over!”

Well, things could be much worse- and hey, a new outfit!  Zana's eyes pretty much danced with joy as she thought about it.  She'd never admit it, but... when you compared the outfit she usually walked around in (and did her duties at the Pakshee wearing) and compared it to many of the others, well... she did feel more than a little plain. Okay, a lot plain.

...okay, she felt like a bottle of white dye among a sea of flowery, flashy colors.  So it was with great glee that Zana shucked the shirt, pants, and everything- even her underwear- and she steadily stood there while she was measured what felt like everywhere- her neck, arms, legs (she'd squeaked a bit when they measured the inseam of her leg, and the tape had ended up pushed right against her front bits), to around her bust, for both size and cup (apparently she was a 32 D, in whatever clothing lingo that was), until they knew pretty much everything except for the depth of her bits and the inside of her head.

Then came the waiting. They were apparently hand-making the clothes- hand-made!  Rommie was so nice, so generous... maybe she shouldn't have baited her so much last night.  She really was a great boss, all happy and helping and oh so generous!  Maybe she ought to lay off and really put her nose down...

When Zana reached for her underthings, however, she was in for a rude surprise.

“Oh, there's no need for that.  The underclothes are provided as part of the outfit.  Miss Dulaque insisted, said they would complete the whole outfit, and make you look perfect at her side.”

With that, a bundle was produced- some pile of black lace, sheer fabric, and silk that didn't look like the simple underthings Zana had ever worn before.

Yeah, there was a coil of rope with Rommie's name on it in her very near future if Zana had a say about it for this.  And some tight knots. And some ice. More than likely she'd had this planned from the second Zana had wanted to come to Ishgard with her.  

Looking at the pile of lingerie, she could only shake her head. There wasn't any way out of it, either she was going to walk out of here in the pile of black that was supposed to be underwear, or completely naked. While the latter could be okay in the Pakshee, in the middle of Ishgard... not so much.

With a sigh, she dropped the blanket she'd been hiding under, and stepped to the middle of the dressing room, and the process began.

First came a frilly thing they called a 'garter belt'.  It went around her waist, and had some little dangling straps from it.  That wasn't so bad.  Then it got bad.

Two sheer stockings, both in black, went on her legs, one at a time. They had to be rolled up her leg, the cool silk brushing up against her skin as she watched them pull the material higher- over her foot, up her calf, and then finally over her thigh until it was latched onto the belt with a couple of mythril clips (mythril?  How much did Rommie drop on this?)

Then, blessedly, finally- came what they called panties.  But these weren't the simple set of hempen green ones like she'd had before- these went on over the stockings and were pulled up over them, high enough to cover her rump and her bits.

The first feeling of silk against her rump brought a shudder to Zana's frame.  It felt good.  Better then the rough hemp cloth, and it didn't weigh as much.  ...she could honestly get to like this kind of feeling.

Then she was told to raise her hands, and felt them wrap something around her chest and stomach.

“No worries, dear, just a corset.  Don't mind us, we're just getting you all nice and tidy to present to Miss Dulaque is all.”

Then there were unfamiliar hands upon her breasts, making sure they were sitting right in the cups of the corset, even as the hooks and eyes were lined up and attached.  Once that was done, the younger girl started pulling on the cord, and Zana felt the material constrict, pushing her stomach in and pushing her chest out, practically forcing her breasts forward, even as the older seamstress signaled that the fit was perfect, and to go get the suit of clothes, soon to follow the girl as she heard someone enter the store.

This gave Zana a chance to look at herself in the mirror- black silk and lace, rising from tip of toe to bulging breast, with the touch of blue in her hair and her green eyes providing slight accents of color.

I look... good.  Really good. Really, really good.

She must have stared at herself in the mirror for a quarter of a bell before the seamstresses were back, unaware of the eyes upon her during that time.  And then the seamstresses were back, and they were buttoning up the shirt over that black silk, and hiding the garter under the skirt, pulling it up and over.  Then they had her step into some dress shoes, and after some more observations, brushed her hair out of her eyes, changing her favorite spiky look for a simple ponytail and placing some glasses on her face to complete the look.

Zana almost didn't recognize the woman in the mirror.  She looked... professional.  Of good character.  Nothing like her original dress.  She looked respectable, like she should be behind- or under- a desk at a shipping company in Ul'dah.

What would they say, back at the Pakshee, if she dressed like this?  Would they even recognize her?

Her former outfit was bundled into a cloth bag, and handed to her, and she exited the cloth circle to be presented with the gazes of the three that she'd followed here, to Ishgard.

The noises of approval were imminent, and Zana looked in the bag at the velveteen shirt and toadskin leggings she'd worn in.  Zana blushed as she saw Rommie looking at her.  The heat was back on her, and she loved every moment of it.

She could get used to the outfit... and the underwear.

Especially the underwear.

She would push the glasses up, and then the four of them were off, shopping to complete Zana's look- and while the others were busy looking for what they needed, she could only think of how the silk caressed her body, light as air. Hidden just underneath the material that made her look like a saint, the good girl, was the heart and the underwear of a sinner that could call a partner with a sultry gaze and a finger run over her curves.

Maybe it wasn't quite out of the question for her to take clients like this... maybe someday.  After all, how much of a market for a good girl gone bad could there be?

That gave her a terrible, evil idea.  If she wanted to try to knock Zana off her game, well...

She would wander on up next to Rommie and wait until the coast was clear, and then lean in, close to her ear.

“...the black lace feels amazing, you know?  All that sheer silk you could see my skin through... and as long as we keep shopping like this, you'll never get a look at it.  You'll just have to wonder what I look like under this- all that wonderful silk and lace, right out of your sight.  I know it's killing you. But I'm perfectly fine with you not being able to see it.”

With another toothy Zana grin, she suddenly vanished again, dashing away to reappear next to the others.

Two could play at this game.  She'd match her tease for tease, if she could.

The ball was in Rommie's court. Zana couldn't wait to see what she did next.

@kisskissrommie