#how did he come by such an object he couldn’t have gone to the bomb store and bought the one labeled ‘bat-proof!’

[cologona]

Jason makes quite extensive use of bombs… some being specific and exotic enough to stump even Batman. He also uses poisons, which is not so dissimilar a subject from drugs which he’d also have to be familiar with… I think our boy Jason might be hiding a talent for chemistry.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut; "Tim's free cloning lab". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively, then knocks back the last of his hopefully-actually-a-protein-shake-and-not-Bane-venom-or-something and gets to his feet, picking up his tablet again as he does. He does not seem concerned to be alone in a lab full of sharp objects and computers with two only negligibly-restrained Bats. Admittedly Luthor doesn’t tend to seem concerned during literal multiversal apocalypses, but Tim is vaguely insulted on principle. A multiversal apocalypse couldn’t do any worse than uncreate Luthor and everything he’s ever done in his life, after all. He could tank his stock prices and drive up all his insurance rates, and then make him have to live with it. 

A little respect isn’t that much to ask, is it? 

“Wow, called out by the supervillain,” Steph mutters to him under her breath. “The Metropolis supervillain, even.” 

“I do not have commitment issues,” Tim mutters back to her. 

“Yes you do, the issue is you commit yourself to somebody and then become an insane person about them but never actually mention the existence of said commitment to them,” she retorts frankly. 

“I do not–” 

“When did you go for the red and black suit again and how long did you stick with it?” 

“. . . we’re in a supervillain lair in Connecticut, I don’t have to answer that right now.” 

“Oh, so you will later?” 

“So anyway, new supervillain trap, how’s that going for you?” Tim asks Luthor. Steph snorts at him; he ignores her and all her baseless, ridiculous, baseless accusations that are definitely not currently reading him for absolute filth. “All coming together nicely, no tech issues? Because we could troubleshoot those for you while we’re waiting for extraction, no charge.” 

“The chemical breakdown of the necessary stabilizer you missed when you were cleaning out my old labs is laid out in file B-2.13, speaking of ‘troubleshooting’,” Luthor mentions, and Tim . . . pauses. 

“‘Stabilizer’,” he echoes carefully, and then glances around the sunroom lab. The sunroom cloning lab. 

The sunroom. 

Ah. 

That is probably a connection he should've made, like . . . literally instantly, yeah. 

“Oh my god, do you think you can actually convince Red Robin to make you another–wait, why do you even want Red Robin to make you another Superman or whatever, you did it better than he ever did,” Steph says, squinting in bewilderment at Luthor through her mask. Tim’s much more insulted this time, even if it’s objectively true that Kon is objectively–never mind. Luthor just looks dubious. 

“I don’t want another Superman, there are already far too many of those running around and being an issue as it is,” he snorts dismissively, waving her off. “And I’m willing to provide a useful little resource or two, of course, but it’s hardly traditional to have to make my own grandchildren, now is it. Besides, Supernova won’t be as annoyed about it if they come from you. Though I did include some potential design notes for your consideration in the C folder, of course. Streamlined the tactile telekinesis a bit, for starters. It really didn’t come out as effective as intended, unfortunately.” 

“Of course,” Tim echoes, perfectly aware of that one time that Kon took apart every single gun inside the exact city limits of Los Angeles and nothing else without even meaning to, and also that one time last week when he very much did mean to disassemble a bomb immediately after its trigger mechanism had been tripped, and did it so fast that it didn't detonate. 

So as politely as possible, that makes Luthor’s use of the word “effective” slipped in there a little mind-numbingly terrifying to consider. 

More than anything else, though, Tim really hopes that he’s just gone insane and hallucinated all this, because otherwise he’s going to have to write all this down in a report, and Steph will not lie for him about this one. 

Case in point: she is currently laughing her fucking ass off at him.

[kizzer55555]

How to Kidnap a Corpse

So here’s a DP x spn crossover idea I have. So basically, something happens and the Winchester brothers come across infinite realm ghosts. Vlad specifically (could be just him, could be others.) and they get separated. They try everything they can think of but none of their tricks work on Vlad. He treats the holy water like normal water, can cross salt lines, unbothered by the numerous chants they’ve tried or sigils they write, and any of their actual weapons such as guns, silver, iron, holy metal or other, even a good old fist to the face, just pass right through him. They have NEVER encountered a creature like this before. They don’t even know what it is. But whatever it is has a myriad of powers they’ve never seen before and is pretty much invincible. And then they get separated. (Maybe in the ghost zone, maybe in some random location. Maybe they were trapped in Walker’s ghost prison for being ‘illegal humans’ and Vlad is acting Warden or wants an object from them? Who knows?) So Sam is running from this…creature and Danny ends up seeing this happen and decides to help out when it appears Vlad might kill him. And Sam has no idea why a clearly supernatural creature is helping him, especially since he thinks they might be the same species?? But he keeps running. And then at some point Sam is cornered again and Danny takes a hit meant for the guy (maybe at first Danny was just tackling Vlad and Sam thought it was some kind of territorial thing and while it was supicious the second creature kept putting itself between Sam and the first creature, he chalked it up to a coincidence because there was no reason for it to help him) and a strike was about to hit Sam but Danny, after being thrown down in the opposite direction, very clearly throws himself between Sam and the hit, taking it himself. And tells Sam to run. This changes the tide of battle as before they were kinda even but now Danny is injured. So Sam runs while the second humanoid creature distracts the first (a little bitter because it appeared to be a kid) and then practically crashed into Dean. And they have the chance to get away but Sam stops him and explains about the other creature who saved him. Saying they couldn’t just leave him there. Besides, it looked like a kid. And Obviously Dean is ready to leave. (If they did have an object Vlad wanted, it was lost long ago in the fight and not worth their lives. But maybe they just interrupted his business and he didn’t want witnesses.) So Dean is convincing his brother to leave when they hear a noise and both immediately hide and then look out to see the first hostile creature dragging the unconscious form of the second creature away and the second creature is clearly injured. And looks like a kid. Maybe 15 years old.

And then a green portal opens up that gives off the most ominous presence, enough to make a shiver go down their spines, and the first creature is dragging the injured, young second creature through and so Dean says fine and gives in but makes it clear he’s only helping so they can figure out what the fudge those things are. So they get Danny away from Vlad. Maybe they shoot Vlad and it actually works because Vlad wasn’t expecting it and didn’t phase through it, or maybe they hit him right when the portal closed and it distracted him, maybe it’s just an outright smoke bomb kidnapping and they just bolt? But basically, they do something and now Vlad is gone and they have an unconscious, glowing, bleeding teenager. So they just kinda…manhandle the body into the Impala and really, they should not have as much experience manhandling unconscious, corpse like bodies into their car, but they do. So now they have an unconscious and injured unknown creature who is likely a child of the unknown species and Dean figures that at the very least, if they are helping him they‘ll figure a few things out so as they are trying to use medical supplies to fix up the scratches and burns and stop the oozing, glowing green substance flowing from the kids wounds that they think is his blood. Dean is also doing research on what the heck they just fought. As well as poking the unconscious teen with various things. Now that he isn’t phasing through them. Iron? No. Silver? No. Holy water? Nah, just passes right over the skin like normal water. Salt? Nah. What about fire? “Dean!”

“What?”

And so the experiments/impromptu surgery happens and it’s not like they can take the kid to a normal hospital so they go to see Bobby. And he just sees the two brothers awkwardly trying to drag a glowing body out of the Impala that is covered in amateur bandaging and leaking a green substance over everything. If this is a point in the series where Cas is present, he shows up later (likely was also separated from the brothers during the fight and then reunited with them at the car as they are running to it while carrying the unconscious Danny. Or maybe shows up at the car after the battle, sees them, and is like, what is that?) and Cas can’t even identify what Danny is. Not a demon. He doesn’t sense a malevolent presence from him. But not fully human either. Too strong. And a connection to death? (Did Vlad or anyone se mention they were ghosts and the Winchester’s just didn’t believe them/thought the creature was messing with him?) uuhhhh…I’m not sure if he’s breathing but the blood hasn’t stopped flowing. Ghost? Zombie?

“He’s too….alive to be a zombie.”

“He’s too alive to be a ghost!”

Cas says he’s closer to an angel than anything but something’s still off. And he doesn’t have any grace.

“Wouldn’t a graceless angel just be a human?”

So when Danny finally wakes up it’s going to be ✨interesting✨. But basically, Danny stays in Phantom form and the Winchesters have no idea he’s part human. Even if Danny does change to his human form, they just think it’s some kind of shapeshifting ability. (Does Danny tell them and they don’t believe him? Does he keep it secret? Does he think they already know/figure if they accept his ghost side there’s no need to hide the human part and just, not bother hiding it but they don’t pick up context clues?). So they now have a baby…thing…join them.

Is this a bad Fenton parents universe and Danny ran away? Nasty burger incident and Danny was running from Vlad? Is this Danny on ‘vacation’ with his Godafther and prefers spending time with the Winchesters Until he has to go home rather than the fruitloop? Does Danny just disappear because he was injured/saved and his parents just haven’t realised it yet? Is Danny jumping between the Winchesters and Amity? Who knows!

[nyctophiliq]

young agents in love:

the first time you went over to deal business with solomon reed as the newest consultant of his and the fia, you came across a girl who seemed to be lost in her own world, or rather the network, judging by the netrunning chair she settled in during most of your visit. you were quick to learn however that she could push your buttons faster than any kind of higher-ranking agent who was trying to get through to you before forcing your hand and making you join the agency.

“reed will just take a moment.” you nodded at her words, one of the few times that the two of you actually exchanged words and you didn’t just stare at her like some freak. you stood to the side, letting her walk past you with ease and get back into her chair. but you couldn’t ignore how you didn’t hear the click of her gear so you turned back to face her and noticed she was staring at the box in your hand.

“what’s that?” it took her a second to build up the courage to ask, but sure enough she did and even a blind person could see that you were once an animal from dogtown with the way your chrome glowed with the neon streaks under the dim lights of the room. dead giveaway, you couldn’t even deny it.

you shrugged, “a gift, where i come from we don’t arrive without a little something.” yes, dogtown had its own little traditions, so to speak, that is to mention that most of the time the gifts back home were bombs or other lethal objects that were made to harm the receiver. everyone jumped to conclusions about what your intentions were when you stepped outside of dogtown, but in reality, they were all harmless.

you could bet she was thinking you were here by mistake, looking to score a deal with the wrong people, or a chrome up that you wanted to cheat the system to get. the look on her face told you though that she wasn’t satisfied with your answer at all, so you followed it up just to get her off your ass, “it’s a shard, something reed has been looking for and i got it for him.” she hummed after you explained then you heard the click and she was gone.

every time you visited you were interrogated by so mi (you also learned her name over the course of your many visits) about your ‘gifts’ and why you turned up in the hideout time and time again. you always told her, you were here because solomon reed asked you to be and little details about the shards and other kinds of gifts that you brought.

today was probably the last time you visited the hideout after months, getting wind of that the fia is sending solomon on his way to take on another mission. your only quest was to get enough information and maybe ‘bribe’ your contacts (as once you were thought by kurt hansen himself) for intel, telling them that you were still with the barghest but in reality, you were dropping the wire on how to infiltrate various points of interest.

“this is my last visit here, thought i would bring something for my favorite netrunner.” your walls slowly crumbled down, all assumptions getting lost in the fog of your mind and heart growing closer to the netrunner.

so mi was hesitant of accepting the wrapped gift from your offering hand. “trust me it wasn’t easy to shit something like this out, you wanna take it.” she didn’t have to know how hard it was to gather just one little shard with all the stuff she wished for, this is when you need to thank reed before never seeing him ever again for helping.

“i… um…” her voice shook with uncertainty, gazing at the shard between your fingers. “i don’t know what to say.” so mi breathed.

“then…” you start, biting your tongue to slow yourself down before muttering some nonsense. “what if i ask the big guy to let you out? for lunch or dinner, we could make it a date…” you made a mess of your feelings at the end there, slipped up but it could have ended a lot worse than it actually did.

“a date sounds perfect.” so mi said, not having too much luck with trying to hold back the smile that crept up on her face as she stepped up to you. her hands landed on your shoulders, tip-toeing up so your faces were right in front of each other, just inches away. too fast…

she quickly pulled away, muttering an apology for her sudden moves. you assured her she didn’t do anything wrong. “kid, come on inside.” you heard reed call out. you looked over your shoulder before looking back at so mi and leaning in to press a gentle kiss on her rosy cheek.

“something to make sure you won’t stand me up.” you turned on your heels, and now the composed and serious ex-barghest walked inside the office she knew very well. you could jump out of your skin over so mi saying yes to your date later, and work out some other details (like how you two are both agents and the guys on the eighth floor didn’t really find that a good idea) even after that.

a/n: i always wanted to write something for songbird and now that I am easing into this blurb or drabble style I got going on right now I thought why not cook up something for the best netrunner in the world? i hope you guys liked it and thank you for reading !!!

[bennydwight]

A dialogue snippet that turned into this:

Standoff (TGAMM Oneshot: Spoilers for season 2)

Summary: Half-feral, trapped in a snare barely big enough for his fluctuating form and Oliver Chen's gun trained directly at his head, Scratch is out of options.

So why isn't Ollie taking the shot?

Intrinsically, Scratch was a pretty simple, lazy guy. He liked an easy routine, a familiar path. The hardest work he did most days was figuring out how to avoid hard work. He didn’t have the patience for strategy (why, when cheating was faster and easier?) and trying to think in multiple directions at once just sapped his strength and made his head hurt. All that variety, all that junk humans did to ‘better their mind’ was just so hard.

Astonishingly, it was made ten times harder when he was near bursting out of a containment unit, a wide barreled gun trained directly between his eyes.

He couldn’t even pinpoint where everything had gone wrong, too much focus funneled into clamping down on a base instinct: trapped in a snare barely large enough for his normal size and his afterlife on the line, Scratch’s scare form had started to take over.

He strained against the effort of keeping his ectoplasm intact, phantom breaths coming in rapid huffs even as his teeth lengthened, spines burst from his arms, his shape swelled and pressed dangerously against unyielding steel and electrons. Somewhere, quietly in the back of his mind and underneath the screaming need to SCARE SCARE SCARE SCARE, he realized dimly that he’d never been afraid of being crushed until now, after he’d gained the ability to phase through objects at will. Well, most objects. Go figure.

So it was here, desperately trying to reign in his higher processes, that through an animalistic red haze Scratch glowered into the eyes of his captor. Ollie stood mere feet away, that biohazard-yellow gun a shield between him and his helpless prey, and Scratch acknowledged a terrible gleam of satisfaction as even now the weapon trembled in the boy’s hands.

Across the other side of the warehouse, behind the orangey shimmer of the Chens’s forcefield, Molly lay prone, the tiny movement of her breaths the only reason any of the Ghost Chasers were still alive. Esther knelt next to her, first-aid kit in hand, expression one of barely-contained terror. Not his doing, but he’d take credit. Maybe next time she’d learn not to chuck a knockout bomb at a child. Well, at him. Molly had taken the metaphorical bullet (not a pretty mental image, given the circumstances), and if anything happened to her then Scratch was going to make all their lives a living hell.

Provided he got out unscathed. Somewhere, out of the thick of battle, Andrea fought to take the snare’s electronics offline, and no doubt June was blocking every attack with equal fervor. And even with legs as long as Libby’s, it would take too much time for her to reach the McGee’s house and bring back Pete and Sharon. Time Scratch didn’t have.

Imprisoned, half feral with the urge to survive, and one finger twitch away from total erasure, Scratch was out of options. Just him and Ollie, and the trap and the gun.

And the father.

Ruben stood, face and hands pressed against the forcefield, vibrating with adrenaline. His attention laser focused to his son, caught on the opposite side with the enemy (that was Scratch, he had enemies now), the shouts of excitement and encouragement died at Ollie’s hesitation and veered distinctly into confusion and urgency.

“Finish it, Ollie, it’s trying to take attack form! End it before it escapes!”

Ollie’s only acknowledgement was the hitch of his shoulders, eyes locked with Scratch in a way that felt like he was missing context. Scratch had seen this boy’s hatred firsthand, he put things on the internet that should not be there, so what stopped him now?

A memory flashed to mind: Molly throwing herself in front of the knockout bomb, and someone shouting ‘NO’ nearby, and Scratch swelled painfully against the snare as a fresh wave of rage tore through his ectoplasm like the hiss from behind his fangs.

Ah. So now he knew.

“We’re so close, Ollie,” Ruben continued to not shut up, voice like fingernails down Scratch’s strained self-control. “Our family’s whole legacy has led up to this! You can give us everything we’ve ever dreamed, just pull the trigger!”

The monster was caged, and still fear shone like a beacon behind Ollie’s eyes. Everything they’d worked for at his feet and he still didn’t move. Didn’t look away.

Scratch was not a smart man on the best of days and now, claws scoring uneven grooves in the ground as their length oscillated with his concentration, he was grossly, hilariously far from his best. “Do it kid,” Scratch snarled, sucking harsh breaths from between gritted teeth. “You know what it’ll cost ya.”

“Do it, Ollie! This is our only chance!”

A long beat passed.

Ollie’s hands shook, but his trigger finger didn’t waver.

From outside, a roar, and then a scream. Good old Geoff. The Chens’s heads whipped towards the door, and their combined fear-smell nearly whited out Scratch’s mind for good.

“Go help June!” Ollie’s voice pitched high with terror, and something else that tugged Scratch’s mind back to clarity. Surprise registered through the darkness clouding his mind as his parents obeyed, gathering a limp Molly into their arms, and a strange quiet settled over the warehouse.

And then, there were two.

Most of the threat and the fear-smell were gone, but Ollie still had a gun to his head and Scratch was still angry. His hue shifted, deepening to a sickly green, mouth stretching wide in a grotesque grin. “So what’ll it be, Ollie? Gonna finish me yourself? Or gonna make your daddy do it for you?” The snare creaked ominously as his growth strained the limits. The ropes of plasma burned fierce red lines through the green, but he barely registered the pain. “Either way, she’ll never talk to you again. Won’t even look at you. She thought better of you, y’know. Tried her darnedest to change your mind. You want her to wake up and find out she failed?”

Ollie’s eyes hardened, and Scratch’s temperature dropped several degrees. He really should’ve known better by now than to make calculated risks, this one might’ve just cost him his life.

Ollie’s hand moved, and Scratch bit back a flinch before watching it dip into a pocket and emerge with a square device. As he pressed the giant, terrifying button right in the middle, Scratch braced for pain.

Instead, the pressure around him retreated, and Scratch floated up into the air. Free.

Free, and alone with the Ghost Chaser, who kept the gun trained on his head even as scared tears pooled at the corners of his eyes.

They stared at each other in a stalemate, Ollie unwilling to put down his weapon and Scratch wobbling between forms as he considered whether to put his uncomfortably pent-up scare energy to good use. Or at least entertaining use.

“Run,” Ollie whispered, and Scratch couldn’t tell if it was a threat or a plea.

The instinct-induced haze lessened. If Ollie took the shot, he’d be disappointing Molly. (Who was he kidding, life without Scratch? He’d be devastating Molly!) But if Scratch proved the Chens thoughts on ghosts right, he’d be doing the same thing.

Ollie hefted the gun higher, looking no keener to use it. “Run,” he repeated.

The easy way out. No lie, Scratch had considered it immediately. Molly was safe enough with the Chens, and all he wanted was to disappear into a dark corner and forget this whole nightmare ever happened. He could run, and they’d be more careful, and this whole debacle meant Molly would stop hanging out with Ollie, and Scratch’s life could go back to normal. Save being on the run. Forever.

(Or until the Chens died out, and with Scratch’s luck this would absolutely turn into a multigenerational blood feud.)

Facts were: he was outed, and so was Molly’s connection to him. They’d never be safe, not while the Chens were determined to cleanse the world of ghostkind.

Scratch took a deep breath and thought of his family, and the last of his spines smoothed and his colour returned to its natural blue and his shape stabilized. It might’ve been easier to go underground, but even these past few months of avoiding their (many, many) ghost traps had triggered an exhaustion that would’ve been called bone-deep if he’d had bones. He didn’t want to put his family through that, and frankly, Scratch was just damn tired. All he wanted was to sleep for a century.

He'd finish this first.

“Look, Ollie,” he started, relieved to find the bass in his voice had returned to normal. “As far as ghosts go, I’m a pretty lazy guy. Rather take a nap, y’know? All that exercise ain’t good for you.”

Ollie’s eyes darted to the side, face screwing up in that ‘um actually’ wince that Molly liked to adopt whenever she annoyed him enough to bring up the flat-earth theory. The first flicker of character he’d shown since this whole standoff started. “Not how that works, but what do you mean?”

Scratch smiled at his mortal enemy, and somehow it felt natural. “Means I’m tired of running, kid.”

 END

[bambimeadows]

💕hint at Spoilers 💕

Big rant now. In regards to the ending, do you know what honestly annoys me more than *that big shocking thing* happening? Because honestly I hate it, hate how they did it, but I kind of get why they’ve done it and suspect how this series is ultimately going to end.

What annoys me more is how easily they let Makarov escape. In this essay I will- 😅

And this is a common theme in the vast range of lazy writing cards they use for campaigns, but this took the piss.

Because he ran away and after like not even 5 seconds Gaz was like, “they’ve gone.” Sorry? He’s gone? What do you mean beloved? How far do you think he could have gotten in 5 seconds? Not even a lazy ass police officer would act like that, they’d still make some effort to pursue him after he runs off. Why were they so sure he was long gone? (He factually couldn’t have been) Why were they so sure chasing him would have been useless? Because logistically, technically, objectively, even mathematically in a space and time sort of way, it wouldn’t have been useless, at all.

And What, it was determined he was gone just because a train whizzed past? The train whizzing past doesn’t mean Makarov teleported to a completely new location, wait for the train to pass (it takes all of 3 seconds) and then go after him? Run!

Realistically (since we know they love realism now haha) Ghost at least should have still ran after him while Price and Gaz were dealing with the bomb, and canonically if they’re not employing lazy writing devices, Ghost would have. Like let’s get down to it, Ghost’s character. He loved Johnny like his own brother no doubt about it, but with who he is and the way he is, that would spur him on to chase Makarov down like a rabid dog does a bunny, not just instantly accepting he’s escaped AGAIN. He’d know launching into action is more effective and beneficial to Johnny’s memory than just kneeling in sorrow, very helplessly. Paying respects can be done after he’s avenged. Makarov would have still been in the general vicinity while he just kneeled there looking over the body, and isn’t Ghost suppose to be like peak physical capability? If he sprinted he’d be able to surely at least see them and keep following them, if not probably catch up to them and start shooting. And even after Gaz and Price finished disarming the bomb they could have chased after him too. I’ve been racking my brain like, Unless that door leads directly outside and there was a car parked literally right outside the door, but how do they know that? Was it maybe that only Makarov could open that door? Nothing to indicate so and again, how would they know? And surely there’s a car parked outside too to chase him in if believing that he jumped in a car is their reason for determining him long gone after 10 seconds? I know damn well there’s no helicopter waiting for exfil in the streets of london. Look, even if they *tried* to chase after him and couldn’t find/catch him in the end, that would have still at least made some sense and not have been so lazy and dumb.

Idk, maybe I’m spiralling about it but just lazy, nonsensical, vapid shit like that is what really makes me lose faith in their ability to do anything other than peddle warzone. Laziness and illogical writing just so they can justify another campaign consisting of nothing else other than chasing Makarov around the world in 5 hours. It’s just so irritating. The boys are so so good at everything, made out to be the most strongest smartest best boys in the world , but when it comes to Infinity Ward’s special favourite antagonist they suddenly become amateurs, when he’s right there in front of them it suddenly becomes like they’re not that fussed about catching him at all, but that’s all forced so he can live to see another game. It’s such a disservice to their characters. Also Even the fact that he’s been thrown in a gulag previously as well, im sorry but don’t they just execute terrorists left right and centre, why not him? It’s never really explained why they simply must keep him alive? Irl, if they can come face to face with the most dangerous terrorist in the world multiple times and continue to let him slip through their fingers they should all be fired. You know what I mean? In actual fact TF141 has been written to be pretty incompetent, but that’s definitely not the message Infinity ward is trying to put out, instead we’re suppose to act like it makes sense and it’s believable. This wasn’t an ending, it’s hardly even a cliff hanger because we more or less know what to expect. And don’t even get me started with the after credit scene that I missed and only got alerted to on tumblr, again, why? Where does so much lack of effort come from with these people? Is general shepherd’s character not worth more than some shitty slap dash after credits scene? Are you actually joking me? And can I just say as well… I’m not the most educated on all this stuff, but a British SAS soldier or CIA operative, apparently! idk, shooting a very important American war general while he’s just sat in his office? Is that really… is that really something that seems plausible? you know what I mean? Even when they were threatening to shoot him in that whatever the fuck snow mission while he was just stood there not posing any threat, I just thought, mmm can you do that though? Should you do that? That seems like an awful fucking idea? I know you commit war crimes when forced to sometimes but you’re not war criminals…? I hate to go off on a tangent here but may I take you back to MW2 (reboot) where they had to release Hassan because they was scared of fall out with Iran, but they suddenly think that them, British military, shooting an American war general is the right thing to do… right. And I don’t mean I respect the title, I’m saying that this would probably realistically (because remember they love realism when it suits them) be something that would stop THEM just murdering him? It was entirely necessary and needed to take down the last shepherd, he was an outright and literal murdering psychopath and we had no choice to kill him in the end anyway because he was actively trying to kill us, but this one? It just didn’t make sense. They should have at least had him take out a gun and try to shoot price first, that way it would have made sense. It’s just so confusing. Price is suppose to be this smart well verse man, but they made him do something so stupid, reckless and unnecessary? Besides, So much more could have been done with this Shepherd and his storyline, especially following that weird court scene with him and Graves, could have given us something actually potentially interesting and unique, I know that’s an alien concept to infinity ward, but they could try it! So yeah In all I don’t get that decision either. Just so they could quickly get rid of him so they don’t have to write him in the new campaign and they can focus all their attention on their special weshial precious Makarov. And the new Makarov sucks ass too! Wtf have they turned him into- let me stop because I could go all night.

It’s all just so lazy, there are soooo many other dumb stupid moments and choices in this campaign but idk I’m done😔✋ Unless they tell me Alejandro is in MW4 I will not be buying. Now I wait for the multiplayer to release and disappoint so I can be shown that I wasted more money than I thought.

[heathersproship]

hi! thanks for answering my question about chansaw. my opinion is really similar to yours. and as an extra note, if the show/movie happened in a weird alternative universe that everyone including H.C and veronica remain friends, they could totally rule the world. another question if you dont mind, is if you think movie JD really did love veronica? thanks!

I never mind more questions lol, come at me!

I do think he really did love her, yes. And it’s relevant to mention Chandler in all this first because in regards to Veronica J.D. and Chandler parallel each other greatly (to the point where in the early draft J.D. even tells Veronica she “used to have a sense of humor” like Chandler did), though we need only look at how their relationships with her ended to see the difference.

Regardless of how Veronica fell in with them and to what degree, both relationships end with Veronica wanting out. Both relationships ultimately end with the deaths of Chandler and J.D. And both relationships end with Veronica winning their respective fights leading to their deaths, with Chandler being verbal in the alley of Remington and J.D. being physical in the boiler room. Again, the difference is how they take it.

When she’s beaten by Veronica, Chandler threatens to go scorched earth. “Monday morning, you’re history. Transfer to Washington, transfer to Jefferson. No one at Westerburg is going to play your reindeer games.”

When he’s beaten by Veronica, J.D. bows out gracefully. “Color me impressed. You really fucked me up pretty bad, Veronica. You got power in you—power I didn’t think you had. Slate is clean.”

Even though J.D.’s actions make him objectively worse than Chandler, which makes her the “better” option in the eyes of some people (she’s just a bully whereas he’s a murderer... even though being a bully isn’t exactly a good thing either? Like, she’s a literal bully??), tell me why it’s the serial killer who knows when to fold? He’s unhinged and violent and he has a fucking bomb. He could’ve pushed her down the stairs and let gravity do the rest since they were both pretty banged up from their fight. He could’ve turned the timer on at any time without her knowing and taken her with him. He could’ve stayed where he was rather than walking away to die where the brunt of the blast couldn’t reach her. He could’ve hurt her more as one final fuck you. But he didn’t.

It’s clear by the end J.D. respects Veronica and Chandler does not, and it’s that respect which shows he loves her.

Someone once asked in the Heathers movie sub on Reddit (and I’m paraphrasing because it’s been a while), why did J.D. blow himself up at the end rather than continue with his plan to blow up the school? The only explanation I have, and personally believe, is that he was just honoring Veronica’s last wish. He respected her enough, and loved her enough, to do one last thing. (Also, there’s the rule of three, right? Killed Chandler in the first act, killed Ram in the second, and then he kills himself in the last.)

Remember, the last thing she said to him before leaving the boiler room was that she wants “cool guys like you out of my life.” The fight is over, the bomb’s been turned off. Veronica walked out of the boiler room, leaving both him and the bomb inside (I forget if she drops the gun or what). He could’ve turned it back on and blown the school up anyway, exactly like he wanted and went to the trouble of planning out, but he didn’t. There’s also his history of moving around a lot; we don’t know how long he has in Sherwood—he could be gone the next day and there’d be very little chance of them keeping in touch, much less ever meeting again. Instead, he managed to get his beaten ass up, strap the bomb to himself, follow her outside, let her know there’s no hard feelings after all that, turn the bomb back on, and blow himself up in front of her so she knows he’s not only out of her life, but there’s no chance this cool guy will meet up with her again. Was it a fucked up way of saying goodbye? Hell yeah it was! But as he says himself, “the extreme always seems to make an impression,” so it makes sense he would go out with a big fucking bang. And she proved she had the fortitude to withstand him.

The reason we don’t see J.D. blowing himself up as an act of love in the movie is because the focus is on Veronica. She just stands there waiting for him to blow up, letting him light her cigarette the way he used her as a lighter earlier. In the musical, we focus on J.D. singing “Our love is God” as the very last words he ever says (to Veronica and in general), which shows his intent much more blatantly, and that’s not an accident. The musical with all its changes deliberately paints J.D. with a more sympathetic brush, making him an abuse victim to explain why he is the way he is, especially on West End, to the point of blaming his dad in the lead up to I Say No—and who are you not to sympathize with an abuse victim? The movie doesn’t do that. At all. It makes the movie J.D. come off as worse than his musical counterpart, not having a reason to easily explain why he is the way he is, and that’s the point. He’s fucked up, but he’s no victim about it. He doesn’t need an abusive dad constantly punching down on him every second of every day for him to turn out as he did, just like Chandler doesn’t need neglectful parents to turn out a controlling bitch who thinks getting involved with college guys as a high school junior is the cool thing to do.

Plus, the only reason he got this bad was because he decided Veronica was the one to fuck everything up for, even if it started off as accidental. His reaction to killing Chandler (shaken, “a little freaked” in his own words) is not the reaction of someone who’s killed before, as much as the fandom seems to think (or wants to believe) he has. After he got a taste, it just escalated vey quickly.

So yeah! Movie J.D. definitely loved Veronica. While his methods were extreme, he had the right idea: he just wanted to protect her. He wanted to give her what she wanted. He just has a very fucked-up way of expressing it (taken from his parents, no doubt. And it’s canon too; we just have to pick up on it). When they killed Chandler, he asks “At least you got what you wanted, right?” When they killed Kurt and Ram, he was under the impression she wanted it but didn’t want to admit it to herself. And when he blew himself up, it was because she asked for it: “You know what I want, babe? Cool guys like you out of my life.”

God I love them lol.

[greer-morgan]

This time, Greer did laugh. She laughed hard, scrubbing her hands over her face until she could compose herself again. She didn’t laugh because it was funny. No, she laughed because it was so utterly ridiculous that it seemed the only options were to laugh or to cry. “Oh, fuck,” she muttered. In Mahlon’s mind he was waking up after his first Games. The last fifteen years of his life had vanished into a void of nothing, a black hole where time had disappeared. He didn’t know about Virgie, about the rebellion, about Cat, the Berries, Joe, or Slate, or the bombing of Twelve, or coming to Ten, or her, or the farm, or any of it. It was all just… gone.

The erratic beeping of the monitors had alerted others to Mahlon’s thrashing, and before she could protest, she was being shoved out of the way so the entire medical staff could descend upon him. Greer was temporarily relegated to the hallway, and honestly, it was a relief. She felt guilty, but she didn’t know how to explain any of this to him. He didn’t know her, and he didn’t want her there, and it seemed her being there only scared him.

“You said disoriented,” Greer snapped when she spotted a doctor she knew had been caring for Mahlon. “Disoriented is when you fall asleep on the couch and wake up thinkin’ you’re in your bed. Losin’ over a decade of your life is not fuckin’ disoriented!” Greer was objectively aware that she was shouting— the kind that came from so deep inside of you that it ached coming out— but she couldn’t stop it.

“I know, I know,” the doctor coaxed. “Look, head injuries are unpredictable, and we weren’t sure what we’d be getting when he woke up, but the good news is that this is very unlikely to be permanent.”

“Unlikely?!” Greer balked. “How long is it gonna take him to remember?”

“We don’t know.”

“Stop tellin’ me you don’t know! Everythin’ has been ‘I don’t know’ for weeks now. I need you to know a single damn thing for once!”

“I’m sorry, but head injuries are… unpredictable,” the doctor repeated. “It could be as short as a few days. It could be as long as months. It’s possible that there are some things that never come back.”

“I don’t- I can’t wait months to get him back. I—” Greer sunk, half collapsing to the floor, relying on the wall behind her to hold her weight.

“I know it’s a lot to process.”

“You have no idea,” Greer answered as her head fell against her folded arms. She didn’t have the luxury of time when she was carrying his child. Her body wouldn’t wait, put things on pause until they were ready to make any kind of decision, but she couldn’t tell him in the state he was in now. She was between a rock and a hard place, and they were both rapidly closing in on her.

“He’s still going to need you. There are things you can do to help him remember. Take it slow and follow his lead, but you know his routine, you know where his belongings are, you can show him pictures of people, and tell him stories. It’s not going to be easy, but you’re not powerless here either.”

“I wasn’t gonna leave him, if that’s what you were thinkin’,” she added, because she knew she'd retreated to the hallway pretty immediately, and maybe that looked like surrender. “Jus’ needed a second to breathe.”

“No, no, of course.”

“Okay,” Greer pulled herself to stand, puffing out her cheeks and expelling a slow stream of air before she turned back toward Mahlon’s room. “Let’s try this again.”

The more she spoke, the faster the beeping became, and he was suddenly very aware of every place they'd attached something to him. "I don't--" he kept repeating, shaking his head. I don't know. I don't know. I don't-- And the urgency of the sensation became too great, the panic of the void mounting to a peak. He could not tell if he was crazy, or if she was, or if the whole world had somehow warped and changed in his sleep. Mahlon pushed himself up, dislodging a node or two, changing the beeping, signaling things were not as they should be. Nothing was. Hestia. Slate. Greer. He clutched his head and screamed: "I DON'T KNOW!"

He rocked, gripping fistfuls of unkempt curls, muttering the same words, the same empty thing. I don't know. I don't know. Get the fuck away from me. "I was in the arena," he sputtered, face red, heart pummeling. "Two of us were left, an' I--" The line between his brows couldn't deepen, but it twitched, the memory painful to draw out. "I gutted him. I won--" But she said he hadn't. "He's dead."

[doppopoppo]

Can I request prompt 12 with Uramichi and/or iketeru

Ticklish

|| Uramichi • GN!Reader||

||Warnings: implication of depression||

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*💙

I couldn’t sleep well at all. Something was keeping me up and I wasn’t sure what. My eyes were beginning to form eye bags that could rival Uramichi’s. He was surprised as well by how dark they seem to have gotten, not to mention worried as well. I don’t have school or work yet here I am, staring at the glowing stars stuck on the ceiling.

I felt Uramichi shift next to me. I snuck a quick glance in to make sure he’s still asleep. He has work tomorrow morning so he definitely needs it. I took my arm and reached over to softly run my index finger over his dark circles. I took a deep breath in and sighed,

“I love you.” it was barely above a whisper.

Maybe Uramichi was right, I probably should speak to a counselor. Maybe it’ll help this heavy feeling on my chest lighten up.

“Love you too.”

Can we afford it though? I still don’t know if our insurance will cover the cost to go to sessions. But anything for mental health, right?

I was spiraling deep in my thoughts when I felt chapped lips kiss the tip of my nose.

“Hey,” Uramichi’s husky voice hummed, “you’ve got that look in your eyes. Whatever it is. Stop. It can wait until morning.” He pulled me in closer. “You’re so dazed. Didn’t even hear my response.”

“Response?” I was confused.

“I said I love you too, Y/N.” He kissed the top of my head.

I softly smiled and snuggled close to his body to steal some of his body’s heat.

“I know what’ll turn that frown upside down. Works well with the children at work.” He smirked.

Uramichi began tickling my sides. I stared at him blankly and yawned. “Please don’t try. You know I’m not ticklish.” I chuckled.

“Yea but anything to make you smile. So I can go back to sleeping knowing my job has been done.” I smacked his toned chest.

“Revenge!” I dove in!

I may not be ticklish but he is! 😈

|| Iketeru • GN!Reader ||

|| Warnings: fluff ||

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*💜

The famous Halloween street fair, BooFace, was happening and I have no date. No one came to mind and I didn’t want to show up alone. Nothing wrong with that, but I would like to at least have fun with someone. All my friends were going with their dates and it left me all alone.

I roamed the fair. Ate snacks here and there, the popcorn is bomb might I add. The rides were pretty decent for a street fair. However, none of it seemed fun alone. Half the day was gone and I decided taking a mini breather would be wonderful.

I’m not sure how long, but I started daydreaming. The mannequin in the store looked pretty handsome. Even without a proper face. He was nicely dressed too, in a pastor outfit. Then an idea popped into my head! My older brother had taught me a spell on how to turn inanimate objects into humans! I ran up to the mannequin and made sure no one was looking. Humans can’t know about witches and wizards. That’s an important rule! So don’t you dare tell anyone, shh!

I cleared my mind and recited the spell “still no more, let life come in, feelings come pour!”

I watched as sparks flew around and the white mannequin slowly turned into human skin. His black hair appeared and his face, he was extremely handsome. I blushed at how effortlessly beautiful he was.

One he fully came to life, he jumped a little. “Woah, I’m moving! I’m…talking?” He touched his chest. Then he began using different pitches to say, “hello, hello, hellooo.” His voice was beautiful too.

“Hello there!” I greeted him. “Hello!” He answered back happily.

I explained to him his role for the day, which was to keep me company for the rest of the day at the street fair. It did feel a little selfish to animate him for my own gains, but an individual can learn to have some kind of fun with magic once in a while.

“What’s my name?” He asked me.

Oh, right. I didn’t know what to name him, but looking up at his beautiful eyes, dazzling with stars, I became mesmerized.

“Iketeru,” I told him, “let’s name you Iketeru.” He gave me a bright smile, I hope it’s indicating he liked it.

Waiting in line for onigiri wasn't fun, but he insisted I get him some. The triangle shape, or as he called it “the funny shape,” appealed to him and he must have some. I felt hands on my sides from behind me. I knew it was Iketeru because he’s been trying to tickle me the whole day.

“Please don’t try anymore, Iketeru, you know I’m not ticklish.” I sighed for the upteenth time.

I saw him pout from over my shoulder. I’m pondering, maybe I won’t turn him back into a mannequin.

Authors Note:

Slowly but surely I’ve gotten through my requests! Just a few more left!

Enjoy! 💖

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 11

Y/n returns to Quantico and sees a familiar face. 

@deadman-inc-bikeshop @viviace and @dovahdokren 

Trigger warnings: mention of FGM, graphic descriptions of violence, bombs, religiously motivated violence, torture, cults, implied sex abuse

Out of everywhere you expected to see him, the FBI headquarters was the last place you'd have possibly thought of.

But he was there. His intimidating height was even more pronounced now that he wasn't sitting on a bar stool. The harsh fluorescent lighting enunciated his sunken bone structure, giving him an eerie halo. The fact that he was standing over a flayed corpse didn't help.

"Ms. [L/N]!" Jack greeted. "This is Dr. Hannibal Lecter, he occasionally acts as a consultant on large cases such as this one."

"Hello again, Miss [L/N]." Hannibal said, eyeing you up and down with an unreadable expression. "I'm dreadfully sorry these are the circumstances under which we have to meet, but it is a delight to see you nonetheless."

"Dr. Lecter." You nodded, trying to cover your nervousness with a smile. "It's always a pleasure."

"You two know each other." Will said in complete non-surprise.

"Her bar is the only one in town that carries my favorite Bordeaux." Hannibal explained. "Though I've come to find that the bartender is excellent company."

Something about how he said "her bar" made your heart flutter. You'd convinced him that you were in charge, and you were determined to keep it that way.

"Not to break up the reunion." Dr. Katz interrupted your thoughts. "But we are standing in front of a dead cultist's body."

Jack cleared his throat. "Thank you, Dr. Katz. What can you tell us about this woman?"

"Her name is Catherine Miller, or at least it was." Dr. Katz began, grabbing the corpse by its left hand and revealing a scar on its inner arm. "I think Chase may have just been calling her 'unwoman'."

"Erasing a person's identity is one of the many warning signs of a dangerous cult." Hannibal observed, crossing the floor.

"Usually they try to change their names in an attempt to make them shed their genuine personality in favor of the cult personality." Jack agreed. "But she must have been so far gone to willingly give up her entire identity."

"That's not even the beginning." Dr. Katz rushed to the other side of the examination table. She paused for a second and lowered her head in respect. "She was mutilated."

All eyes turned to the body's lower half. Dr. Katz took the corpse's hand and rubbed her thumb gently across the back, as if to comfort it. You and her shared a look of mutual disgust and anger. No words had to be exchanged.

You were the one to break the silence. "In Handmaid's Tale, circumcision was a punishment for... gender treason."

"Homosexuality." Hannibal said, looking down. "Well, more accurately, any sexuality or gender identity that exists outside Gilead's biblical worldview."

"I wonder if that's why Chase strapped her to a bomb." Dr. Katz added with quiet conviction. "He needed to destroy any evidence of brutality."

"She said that she once was a sinful woman like me." You said. "Or something to that effect."

"Was she perhaps under the impression that you existed outside of Gilead's biblical worldview?" Hannibal asked, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. He was asking out of his own curiosity and you could tell.

"Well, I am." You admitted. "But I'm not sure how she or Chase could have known that."

"Evangelicals make assumptions about people all the time." Dr. Katz groaned. "I wouldn't worry too much about it."

"And here I thought the bible said 'judge not lest ye be judged'." Will added, not looking up from the body. He took a few steps and pointed to some strange laceration. "What's this?"

"I have no fucking idea." Dr. Katz answered. "It looks like someone tried to skin her like a deer, but only in that one spot."

"And it's done very sloppily at that." Said Hannibal.

"Yeah, well when you're guided by the hand of god, you don't need a medical license." Dr. Katz's voice was sharp with sarcasm.

"I'll bet that's why Chase strapped her to a bomb." Will said. "It would destroy all the evidence of brutality."

Dr. Katz looked sadly on the body and closed its eyes. "I think Catherine has suffered enough for the time being. I'm going to close her up."

Jack gestured to you. "Miss [L/N], Will and I are going to examine the crime scene. Dr. Lecter will be taking your statement."

"I know it’s unorthodox, but I am nothing if not a professional." Hannibal peered down at you.

Hannibal silently escorted you to an out-of-the-way office where he promised you’d have some privacy. Privacy to discuss what, you were unsure. 

“I’m sure you have a million questions, Miss [L/N].” He said, closing the door behind you. “But if I could trouble you with a few of my own, I can make it worth your while.” 

He sat on a nearby couch and patted the space beside him. You awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, looking everywhere but at him.

“Come, sit by me.” He beckoned you with his fingers. “I’d like you to be close.” 

You let your feet carry you to his side, still avoiding any eye contact. You fidgeted with your purse straps and kept your head down. 

“You and Will Graham have met?” He asked.

You wordlessly nodded your head. You had a sinking feeling that he was about to scold you. 

“Have you been intimate?” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but he stopped you. “There’s no use lying to me, Miss [L/N].” 

You dropped your shoulders. “How did you know?” 

He leaned towards you and took a short, audible breath in. “I find it quite hard to believe that you wear the same aftershave.” 

“Is he your boyfriend or something?” You said, somewhat sarcastically. 

“Or something.” Hannibal tilted his head. “An object of my affection, is probably a more accurate term.” 

“You want me to back off?” You raised your eyebrows. You had just witnessed this man examine a flayed corpse without so much as a flinch. You didn’t want to get on his bad side. 

“No.” 

His answer took you by surprise. “Pardon?” 

“When two objects of your affection find each other, there are certainly far worse fates than to see them enamored with one another.” Hannibal explained. “It can lead to some highly desirable outcomes.” 

You understood what he was saying, you just couldn’t believe it. “Like what?” 

He grinned. “I think you already know what.” 

“You mean, like a threesome?” 

So much for professionalism. 

Hannibal clicked his tongue. “Now don’t make it sound so crass, darling. I’m an intelligent man of strong moral character. I’m not driven by lust alone.” 

At least he shared your contempt there. The word ‘threesome’ conjured up bad memories of being approached by straight couples on dating apps who saw you as nothing but a disposable sex toy to boost a straight man’s ego. For that reason, you stayed away from the idea altogether. Hannibal, however, had you reconsidering. 

“So a throuple.” You said. As the word left your mouth, you found yourself more amenable to the idea than you’d anticipated. “I just don’t know how I’d feel being shared between two men.” 

“Oh, [F/N],” he purred. “You would be worshipped by two men. Loved obsessively. Given everything you could ever desire. Not to mention protected at all costs.” 

That last point struck you. For so long, you had lived alone and in fear. And now, you would take any opportunity to not be alone. 

"You like the sound of that. I can tell." Hannibal broke the silence.

"I can't hide anything from you, can I?" You said, pushing your hair behind your ear.

He smiled proudly. "I thought so."

[robindrake93]

Kavinsky’s relationship with Ronan is so interesting when looked at from Kavinsky’s POV.

Kavinsky was skulking about Monmouth for Ronan before he knew that Ronan was a dreamer, which meant that he had some interest in Ronan as a person (which we know doesn’t happen because the dream pack and his family are...dreams). Kavinsky then finds out that Ronan is like him. They’re the same. They’re dreamers and Kavinsky has never met another one in the world. He went from being alone to being one of two. His whole world changed again.

Kavinsky spends like a year trying to tease the confession out of Ronan. Ronan is really only interested in finding the bottom of a bottle with Kavinsky (and racing and fighting with him). Kavinsky is the window in which Ronan’s bird tries to fly into repeatedly and violently. We can assume Kavinsky was met with failure because The Dream Thieves happens.

Kavinsky flirts and he insults in the same breath because he is the instrument that Ronan loves to hurt himself on (and he’s not a stupid boy who can’t read the fucking room - Gansey has a literal collar for Ronan; K isn’t pulling Gansey’s Dog from his ass). But Kavinsky isn’t the only one with sharp, cutting edges and Ronan (intentionally and otherwise) hurts Kavinsky too.

So time passes and Ronan is the same as he’s always been and Kavinsky gets impatient and desperate. He dreams Ronan’s leather bracelets, punctured with teeth marks like the ones in reality, the details noted carefully and lovingly.

“I know you” is what the gift says. “I know you’re a dreamer and I know you chew your bracelets when you’re unhappy and I’ve been paying attention because I care. Look.” Kavinsky leaves.

The next time they see each other, Ronan tosses him a pair of sunglasses. The ones that Kavinsky wears regularly. This is the acknowledgment, the “I know you too.” Except the tint is off, the lenses are slightly wrong (and oh I bet that haunts Kavinsky later, this tiny sign that Ronan isn’t as into Kavinsky as Kavinsky is him). But still. The fact that the sunglasses exist says that Ronan is accepting the gift, he’s returning it, and he’s trying. Which is more than Kavinsky got out of him before.

Things happen fast after that.

Because they’ve always shared dreams and been aware that they were sharing when Ronan dreams of Kavinsky, I’m assuming that the first one - the sex dream - featured a real Kavinsky (although I don’t think Ronan knew). Kavinsky falls asleep and into a dream where he’s fucking Ronan against the hood of a car. This isn’t Kavinsky’s dream, either. It’s Ronan’s. Ronan who controls his dreams. To Kavinsky, this has to seem like a sign that Ronan is very into him.

They’re both dreamers. Kavinsky lives surrounded by dream people and dream objects...why couldn’t they take a dream relationship to reality with them?

Ronan crashes Gansey’s car because of the night horror and Kavinsky shows up to save his life. Ronan’s life is valuable. Except Ronan isn’t grateful, he’s freaking out for no reason over the car. And there’s a moment where Kavinsky literally does not understand what the big deal is; Ronan can just dream a new one. It’s easy. He mentions that Ronan might have a head injury because he doesn’t know that Ronan doesn’t know Kavinsky is a dreamer.

But Kavinsky is going to take care of this and his stupid idiot boyfriend (what else would Ronan be? They courted, they fucked, dreams are reality). Kavinsky flirts on the drive over and Ronan sulks and Kavinsky says in words what he’s been saying in actions; I know what you are, you’re just like me.

Kavinsky is no ones dog. He doesn’t have a Gansey to distract him from his life. He lives with reminders of how bad life is and he’s an addict in a downward spiral. So the process of dreaming is something Kavinsky has had ample time and privacy to streamline.

Ronan doesn’t make cars because he’s keeping himself secret. By showing him the cars and that it’s even possible, Kavinsky says, “we don’t have to be a secret. You don’t have to limit and twist yourself into a tiny box. The world is literally ours.”

I’m not sure how they went from ‘let’s dream a new car’ to ‘let’s get drunk’ and can only assume that it was old habit to drink in each other’s presence but there’s a time skip where we next hear from them via Gansey. More specifically, via Kavinsky being at once jealous over Gansey (probably) being in a relationship with Ronan and where he both reassures Gansey and rips off the bandaid about the car. Kavinsky sends Gansey a dick pic with an Irish flag tied to his erection, a roundabout way of saying that Ronan’s already ridden his dick.

Kavinsky takes Ronan home after the field, they (or at least Ronan) drink alcohol and Kavinsky puts on a racing movie. Kavinsky texts Gansey his dick pick and the news about the car, and he’s not even next to Ronan. He’s giving Ronan space. I’d say the phone thing was invading Ronan’s privacy but Ronan doesn’t use his phone so...there’s nothing there to invade. When Ronan wakes up, Kavinsky tries to start a conversation. And it’s a pretty normal conversation; you handle your liquor well, oh hey you aren’t responding are you okay, wait you inherited dreaming from your dad?

Ronan leaves the room. He’s not very talkative. This probably isn’t going how Kavinsky imagined it would. Again, Kavinsky is an addict and his boyfriend is being more prickly than usual so he gets high. Kavinsky makes a joke instead of confessing to texting Gansey what was basically a “he wants me more than you” text. And Ronan responds with violence. Which Kavinsky points out and his only option is to lay his cards on the table. Kavinsky doesn’t want to play chase, he wants this thing between them to settle. So he spills that he saw Ronan dream the blood and he knew.

And all Ronan asks is how he did it. His hackles have finally soothed. Kavinsky almost literally jumps on the chance to teach Ronan and spend more time in his company; the company of someone like him in all the ways that matter.

There’s more beer to entice Ronan to stay, a little extra incentive to spend time with Kavinsky. Ronan’s first attempts aren’t interesting for someone who’s house is full of one trick magical dream items. Like I said above, Kavinsky has the dreaming process streamlined. He takes his pill, he gets what he wants from his dream and he dies for this. His heart stops for a few seconds. We don’t know if Kavinsky takes the pills to dream every time or if it’s just to make this fast and easy for Ronan’s training. If he does it’s because he’s suicidal, and if he doesn’t then it’s because he’s at the point that he’ll die for Ronan.

What does Kavinsky bring back? Something boring, like Ronan’s dream thing, but it’s complimentary. The cap to Ronan’s pen, the missing piece, that fits and matches perfectly. Which is what Kavinsky thinks they are to each other.

Kavinsky gets his jealous dig in about Gansey’s relationship with Ronan, which makes Ronan almost leave. This time, when Ronan tells Kavinsky to back off about Gansey, Kavinsky does. Because he wants Ronan to stay and he knows Ronan has a temper. Back to the safe stuff, to training, and this time when they dream together it’s intentional.

And when they get back? Ronan is still and he doesn’t react when Kavinsky touches him but he does open his hand when asked what he has. He laughs at Kavinsky’s joke, which doesn’t insult Gansey or insinuate that they’re in a relationship. Ronan laughs, a good sign, the best sign, and Kavinsky flirts. They open up a little, the first time that Ronan has shown any interest in Kavinsky’s home life, and then it’s back to dreaming together.

When Ronan dreams back a lit bomb, Kavinsky saves their lives by throwing it out the window before it explodes. They talk civilly and Kavinsky offers Ronan some cocaine; both to help him dream and because people who do cocaine just like to share with their friends and romantic partners (not diving deeper into this but trust me, it’s a thing).

They’re together so long that days have gone by. This is the first time that they aren’t fighting and antagonizing each other. It’s just dreams and each other. There’s still beer and cocaine because they’re addicts who are hurting, but they’re both comfortable with it. Ronan gifts Kavinsky with a twizzler, which Kavinsky takes because he loves Ronan.

Kavinsky thinks Ronan’s ready for the Camaro but gets angry when he realizes Ronan still doesn’t get how to dream. Ronan gets angry too, takes his failure out on Kavinsky because he just doesn’t get it. And Kavinsky points out how he’s been practicing.

So two things happen next. Ronan says he can’t go back without the car, to which Kavinsky replies to the effect of “then don’t.” He’s asking Ronan to stay with him. And Ronan replies that he’s going to try again, he’s going to dream with Kavinsky again, he’s staying. And that’s all that Kavinsky hears, he doesn’t realize that Ronan meant he was getting the car back so that he could leave.

A new pill comes out, one that keeps Ronan in his body but kicks his mind out. This is a pill that Kavinsky has tested before (once resulting in a girl overdosing) but now he’s got it perfected; this isn’t supposed to hurt Ronan. And Kavinsky re-enacts their first shared dream; Ronan against the hood, Kavinsky pressed up behind him, tracing the tattoo. They’ve already been here before.

But Ronan is gone, back to dreams, and when he comes to, he’s done it. He’s brought back the Camaro and it is perfect. Ronan’s success is Kavinsky’s success (which I’m sure he attributes to his magic dick and phenomenal teaching skills). They are perfect. This is a perfect moment for Kavinsky, a shining moment.

And Ronan crushes it immediately by telling him that actually he’s going back to Gansey; that he wasn’t going to stay. Kavinsky is so surprised that he stands in blank shock. Whatever defensive shields he has slam into place, a wall between himself and his boyfriend who refuses to stay. He can’t believe it.

Ronan mocks Kavinsky for thinking that they’d stay together and that this strengthened anything between them. But Kavinsky still tries to change Ronan’s mind by telling him he doesn’t need Gansey. And then Ronan breaks up with him. Ronan basically says that Kavinsky was nothing at all and he didn’t care about him.

Kavinsky is heartbroken. He says he’ll burn Ronan. He’s a jilted lover, spurned and ashamed and hurt. Ronan is leaving him. Kavinsky puts his finger gun to Ronan’s temple - one last touch - and says he’ll see Ronan later. The exact verbiage is “in the streets”, which might be a joke from Maggie about how they’re no longer seeing each other in the sheets.

But he doesn’t burn Ronan right away. He dreams him a car and lets Ronan know that he’s still jealous over Gansey.

The car gets no reaction and Kavinsky escalates in his attempts to Ronan’s attention. I don’t know how Kavinsky convinces himself that kidnapping Matthew was a good idea. But I want to know if it was before or after he realized that Matthew is a dream thing. When Kavinsky kidnaps Matthew? I bet he didn’t even have to resort to force. Just “hey kid, I’m Ronan’s friend, wanna get a milkshake?”

And he’d take Matthew to get a milkshake and sit in the booth opposite him and drill him with questions. And come to realize that Ronan dreamed him. Now that Kavinsky is actually looking at Matthew, he sees the signs of a dream thing; knows Ronan’s dreams intimately enough to recognize his handiwork. Kavinsky lives with dream things that are so real that no one can tell the difference. And Ronan did a really shitty job making Matthew. The kid has zero personality. He’s essentially a mirror: if K mentions he likes something then Matthew starts talking about it and he copies body language and speech patterns. He wasn’t just made to like people, he was made to be liked. (This was based off the snippet of CDH that was released and I don’t know if later installments negate any of this).

So if Kavinsky hands him a pill and says “swallow this” then Matthew does it and that’s how Kavinsky gets him into the trunk. He literally just asked. It’s that easy because Matthew was made by a child who had extremely base desires...who is very bad at realism.

Kavinsky sends Ronan texts from both his own phone and Matthew’s phone. This is what got Ronan’s attention; he calls. He’s never called Kavinsky before in his life, has never even texted him back before. So this is huge.

It’s important to note here than Kavinsky has replaced real life people with dreams and that he has to practice to get good at making something(one). People are replaceable. Dreams even more so. Matthew is barely a person, he’s a bad creation, and he’s replaceable. This is the key factor; Mathew can be redreamed. If something happens to this Matthew - like an explosion, say - then Ronan can always dream a new, better one. Kavinsky can help him. The point being that this is not actually a high stakes move for Kavinsky. This is breaking Ronan’s toy with the intent of gaining Ronan‘a attention and promising to buy him a new one (a better one, even).

When Ronan threatens Kavinsky on the phone, it’s nothing. Ronan has threatened violence before and it’s only fair for Ronan to make the same threats Kavinsky did. The important, takeaway is that Ronan is coming to see Kavinsky.

At the Fourth of July party, Kavinsky makes an entrance. He wants Ronan to see that he’s fine without him, better in fact.

But Ronan brought Gansey. And Kavinsky cannot resist a jab at Gansey, whom he feels stole his other half. He tells Gansey that he hopes Ronan can’t get it up for him. Ronan attacks him, demanding his dream brother back.

Kavinsky says he doesn’t know. This may or may not be a lie. Kavinsky brings up their relationship again, because that’s what this is about. He says, again, “I can’t believe you left me.” When this doesn’t get through to Ronan, Kavinsky asks Ronan to dream with him.

Ronan does.

Kavinsky is being attacked but Ronan came. He flirts, using a line he’s used before.

And it doesn’t work.

Kavinsky is being attacked by the forest and he tells Ronan that sometimes you have to take what you want; asking again if Ronan wants him, telling him that Ronan doesn’t need to ask before he takes Kavinsky. Again, he bears his heart to Ronan. He’s saying that Ronan is all he has because Ronan is so irreversibly tied to dreaming, dreaming is the only thing there is. Kavinsky says that if Ronan stays in the relationship, they’ll have each other.

Ronan tells him that it’s not enough, that Kavinsky is not enough. Here, Kavinsky begs that it’s not because of Gansey, that Gansey isn’t better than him. And then it comes out that Ronan would rather have a straight man than Kavinsky. A straight man who isn’t a dreamer.

Ronan says that there’s more to life and Kavinsky says that it isn’t true. Ronan says cars, sex, and drugs but he’s also talking about dreaming and that’s how Kavinsky takes it. Everything and a large portion of the people in Kavinsky’s life are dreams. He has no reason to think he won’t be continually replacing people and objects with dream copies. This is his whole life, it’s all he has, he’s made it from nothing. And this is when Kavinsky realizes that Ronan really doesn’t feel the same and isn’t going to return his feelings.

Kavinsky loses the will to live because he’d hinged everything on Ronan. Without Ronan, Kavinsky didn’t want to live. The last little thing he had in his life that was an equal, snuffed out Kavinsky’s flame. So Kavinsky summons a creature that’s essentially his heartbreak; not just this one but every heartbreak and all of his self loathing. This creature hates Kavinsky as much as it hates the rest of the world because it’s Kavinsky’s feelings manifested.

Kavinsky has escalated again. Now he’s threatening to kill himself. He looks Ronan in the eye and asks Ronan to stop him.

Ronan brings back an albino night horror. It fights with Kavinsky’s fire dragon and both boys just watch it. This is so interesting because Ronan’s only reaction is to tell Kavinsky to stop feeling. Stop having feelings for me. Kavinsky says that he can’t. Again, the dragon and the night horror are manifestations of Kavinsky and Ronan’s feelings; they’re metaphors come to life.

Ronan is still focused on his brother, though. Kavinsky even tells him that he’s missing the point of all this, which was to sort through their feelings (or fight through them like the dragon and horror were doing). Ronan finds Matthew, mildly drugged but fine and about to free himself anyway. And Kavinsky finally sees that Ronan really doesn’t care. So he stays in the path of their monstrous, overwhelming feelings made real and ignores Ronan’s pleas for him to get down because he knows Ronan will say whatever he needs to get Kavinsky to do what he wants.

And Kavinsky dies in flame, death via broken heart.

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 20] FINAL

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, sex toys, shibari, dom!seungcheol, dirty talk, overstimulation/forced orgasms, squirting, degradation, name calling, daddy!kink, gags! 😍💕 ✨HAPPY NEW YEAR!!✨ Here’s to more fun fics in 2021! I can’t believe this is our last chapter though omg 😭 It’s been suuuuch a journey and a privilege to write this little series out! I’ve honestly thought about a camgirl/boy series for like, over a year now, and I’m glad I finally did it! I completed one of my goals! 🥺💕 2020 was definitely a wild one, but I want to thank you all so fuckin’ much for supporting me and stickin’ it out with me all year! Here’s to more in the coming year!💕 Also I was proofreading this at the dining table last night thinking my roommate wouldn’t come out of their room but they did(while I was making dinner and my hands were dirty so I couldnt close my laptop ☠️) and they walked past my laptop and now I’m convinced they saw my fucking smut fic right in the open so yes my little mini-break next week is MUCH needed cause I am ✨embarrassed✨ 🤣 I’ll still do my inbox roundup tomorrow and probably answer a bunch of small thirst posts ‘n stuff throughout the week but there won’t be any drabbles! For now, enjoy chapter 20 🥺, have a safe weekend, and remember that I love you~ ❤️🍒💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 COMPLETE

Seungcheol wakes up much earlier than you do the next morning; pressing a kiss to your forehead as you groan and snuggle deeper into your pillow.

“Baby, I need to go run some errands for a little bit, okay? Just keep sleeping, you don’t need to get up yet. But, I made breakfast and put it in the microwave for you when you decide to get up later.”

His voice is muffled and you can barely understand what he’s saying but you nod; a soft sigh on your lips when you drift back into dreamland. He takes his time getting ready, checking his phone notifications as he gets dressed and places a note on the nightstand knowing that you didn’t catch a single word he said.

‘Hey, did you get everything I asked for?’

Jimin🧍🏻: of course, who do you think I am? Jeongguk?

Jimin🧍🏻: and btw, i’m just giving you a crash course okay? We don’t really have a ton of time

Jimin🧍🏻: did you watch those tutorial videos I sent you?

‘Yeah, I did some practice on my breaks, but I guess you can tell me if I’m doing anything wrong.’

Jimin🧍🏻: okee, i’ll be waiting. Don’t get here too late!

‘I’ll be otw soon. Thanks again, Jimin.’

“Ow--damn, okay, you don’t need to tug on it so much!”

“Sorry, I’ll be careful! And why are we practicing on you anyway?! Couldn’t you just have shown me pictures or something?”

“How else will you learn if not on an actual body? It doesn’t work the same way, Seungcheol.” Jimin pauses, checking himself in the mirror. “Also, keep in mind she does have boobs so just… go slow, okay? It’s not gonna sit like this on her.”

Seungcheol blushes a crimson red; biting the inside of his cheek at how amateur he was at this.

“Okay…”

Seungcheol is gone for a lot longer than you anticipate and although he replies quickly to your texts, you can’t help but be curious about where he’d gone and what he was doing.

Especially knowing that the two of you had to film tonight and knowing that everything was up to Seungcheol.

A shiver rolls down your body at the thought and you quickly try to shake off the nerves that seem to slowly invade your body when your mind starts to wander.

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure…”

“I’m home!”

“Where have you--oh, that’s… a b-big box? Um, should I be concerned...”

Seungcheol grins, shrugging as he sets it onto the kitchen counter. “Just some supplies for tonight. I had to go pick them up from a friend but I had to make sure everything was right.” He notices the way you can’t seem to take your eyes off of the box; eyes twinkling when he makes his way towards you.

He tilts your head up to meet his in a searing kiss, lips easing into a smile when you wrap your arms around his neck and melt under his touch. You moan against his lips just before he pulls away; staring dreamily at him while his hands start to roam over your clothed body.

“We have a long night ahead of us, sweetheart. Let’s pamper you a little before then, hmm?”

j__min: ??? where’s the loverboy

j__min has donated $200

angelhan has donated $75

therealchan99 has donated $50

xcaliburDK has donated $75

xcaliburDK: is that the sybian? Haven’t seen that in a looong while

You bite your lip and nod, somewhat shy as you sit alone in front of the camera. “Seungcheol’s still… setting up but he told me to start! I’m a little nervous, to be honest…” Your eyes flit to Seungcheol who rummages through the box in the kitchen and from the angle you’re sat in, you can’t see a single thing he takes out.

Earlier, he’d cooked you your favorite meal and even took the time to give you a full body massage before the two of you cuddled on the sofa and watched a movie. To you, it seemed a little too suspiciously tame and you only found yourself more nervous when he made you drink two glasses of water and ever so quietly announced it was time to start getting ready for the camshow.

“He’s being so suspicious! He was even gone for a few hours earlier today…” You mumble; brows furrowed at the camera before checking the comments.

It still amazed you every time with how much money you and Seungcheol made from the camshows and videos and it made you feel even better knowing that everyone loved the chemistry the two of you had together. There were a lot of video requests and ideas mixed in with the comments at any given time and you were definitely ready to pitch some to Seungcheol now that you’d rebranded your channel to be a couple’s channel instead.

“Almost done, sweetheart!”

gc__koo: he told me to watch cuz he was being suspicious with me too 

gc__koo has donated $50

alphagyu97: what is he even plotting

alphagyu97: i am excited to see the sybian again tho ngl

artist8hao: pretty baby gonna squirt for us again?

universe_WZ: hell fuckin yea let us see how fuckin wrecked you get on that machine

You feel your pussy clench around emptiness at their comments; already feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter with the anticipation.

Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and Seungcheol walks towards the bed with a wide smile and the same box in hand. “Ready?” You can only nod back slowly, watching as he dumps the contents of the box right next to your body.

gc__koo: oy

chwenon: oh shit

sleepy_wonu: oh baby, you’re in for it now

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

Your entire body fills with warmth as you look over the various objects; unsure of where to really look first. “I, um--”

A stack of red ropes sits next to a small bullet vibrator that sits next to a ball gag that sits next to a pair of EMT shears and your eyes immediately flit up to Seungcheol who only smirks back at your shocked expression. “I had some other toys I wanted to use but I figured I should go easy on you, y’know? Since you showed me some mercy last night.”

Nodding, you reach out towards the ropes, touching them shyly. “Why red?”

“Thought they’d be on theme for you, babygirl.”

Seungcheol takes his time; remembering Jimin’s words when he tugs the ropes around your wrists.

“Colour, babygirl?”

“G-green… daddy…”

He nods, sitting up on his knees behind you as you sit on the sybian and face the camera. You bite your lip, somewhat embarrassed that you were already soaking the toy underneath you as Seungcheol worked to bind your arms behind you.

“D--daddy, where did you l-learn this?” You whisper, somewhat curious if this had anything to do with why he was gone for so long earlier in the day.

“Mm, daddy’s friend Jimin was kind enough to help me get the tools and teach me a few tricks to make sure I kept my babygirl safe. Wasn’t that kind of him?” You nod gently, gulping when you shift atop the machine slightly in hopes of relieving some of the growing sexual tension in your body. “Why don’t you thank him properly, sweetheart?”

Your hazy eyes make eye contact with the camera, head tilted slightly. “T-thank you, J-Jimin… for--for helping daddy…”

j__min: omg a shoutout ive made it

kitty_junjun: we never thought we’d see the day

tangerine_kwan: and here we all thought you were gonna be the bad guy huh

hoshi_tiger_xx: like when u only see previews of the book online but the rest of it is different ykwim

Seungcheol makes sure your arms are bound snug enough but not too tight; leaning away slightly to admire his rope work. “Feeling okay so far, babygirl?”

Nodding, you whine back slightly. “Y-yes, daddy… But… my--my pussy wants s-something…” He laughs in return, readjusting so that he’s sitting on your side this time to give himself easier access to start the rest of the bindings.

“Is that so? You’re gonna have to be a little more patient this time ‘cause daddy’s not done yet.” He starts working on the rest of the harness; going slow and checking in with you often to make sure none of the ropes were digging into your skin or making you uncomfortable. “You’ll have to forgive me a little though, I’m admittedly a ‘lil inexperienced so our pretty babygirl is only going to be tied up in this pretty harness for tonight.”

gentleman_josh95: the fact u even took the time to learn just for her

gentleman_josh95 has donated $100

artist8hao: seriously, the dedication

kitty_junjun: we stan a man who knows safety and etiquette 

Comments of reassurance and donations flood in at Seungcheol’s small apology and although the two of you are in your own world; you can tell from just the amount of pings coming from your laptop that they all seemed to be encouraging him.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as Seungcheol continues to move around you on the bed to finish the harness and a smile graces his lips when he starts to secure the last knots in the back. He can’t help but mentally pat himself on the back at how neatly he’d done it for his first time.

“There. All done, baby.”

Your eyes flit to the laptop’s screen to see yourself; cheeks hot when you see how fucked out you already look and he hadn’t even touched you properly or turned on the machine.

The star harness Seungcheol had tied looks pretty with red ropes and you can’t hide your smile at how good it looks on you too either. “Ah, daddy made it really p-pretty… Thank you.”

This time, Seungcheol nods, letting you admire yourself as he silently reaches for the small remote for the sybian, switching it on.

Your entire body lurches forward as soon as the vibrations attack your clit and you immediately find yourself moaning and grinding down onto the machine as he gives you some relief.  

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Now let’s really have some fun, huh?”

You need to cum.

Badly.

“Awww, is my pretty baby drooling? Does it feel that good on your sensitive ‘lil clit?” He teases, smoothing down your hair as you cry around the ball gag in your mouth; drool seeping out from the side of your lips when he raises the vibrations a setting higher.

You don’t know how many times he’d played with the settings and edged you by now, but all you do know is that the urge to cum only grows stronger as you grind against the machine, soaking it with your wetness as you chase the pleasure building up in your body again.  

Surely cumming was okay, right? He never said you couldn’t.

You whimper around the ball gag, eyes fluttering shut when the tension in your body snaps in the blink of an eye and your thighs clamp down onto the sides of the machine. Throwing your head back, you moan against the gag and ride out your high as Seungcheol watches you from the side.

“Mm, bet that felt good, huh? But I know you want something in that greedy ‘lil cunt of yours, don’t you? You want daddy’s cock slamming into your tight ‘lil hole ��til it’s full of my cum, right, sweetheart?” He licks his lips, turning off the sybian as you slump forward.

universe_WZ: shit shes so sensitive

chwenon: especially with her arms bound like that i bet she’s on cloud nine rn

gentleman_josh95: her cute lil head is probably all fuzzy already from all the sensations

therealchan99 has donated $100

gc__koo has donated $75

j__min has donated $150

All you can do is whimper and nod; teary eyes blinking back at Seungcheol as he smirks and leans in towards you.

“Mmm, you’ll get what you want eventually. But for now, you’re gonna cum again.”

He turns the sybian back on, licking his lips when he sees your body tensing again. It was always easier to get you to cum a second time and his point is proven when you mewl around the ball gag a few minutes later; chest heaving in stuttered breaths as you try to shy away from the toy still vibrating against your overly sensitive clit when you’re quickly thrown into another orgasm.

“You always cum for daddy so easily, don’t you, babygirl?”

Your head feels fuzzy after already cumming twice in such a short span of time but you nod, head lolling to the side as Seungcheol finally turns the sybian off for good.

Seungcheol gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s scooting in and fiddling with the clasps at the back of your head to take the ball gag off.

A thread of saliva connects your lips to the gag and you whimper at how good it feels to be able to actually speak again. “D-daddy…” Drool drips from your mouth as your lead lolls forward and Seungcheol is quick to bring a hand up to keep your head up as he looks into your lust filled eyes.

“Colour, sweetheart?”

“Still g-green…” He nods back, checking to make sure none of the ropes had shifted. “Would you like some water before we continue, baby?”

“Yes, daddy…”

He fetches you a glass of water, tilting it against your lips as you down the entire glass and you find yourself a little surprised at how needed it was. “Thank you, d-daddy…”

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Ready to keep going?”

You nod, a little bit more energized. “I hope everyone, mmh, l-likes the show so f-far~” Your teary vision prevents you from reading the comments and before you can even make an effort to, Seungcheol is already helping you off of the machine and helping you sit on the bed across from him.

alphagyu97: ugh she looks so fucking good in that harness

angelhan: right? That shade of red looks so good against her skin too

angelhan: so fuckin pretty

tangerine_kwan: pics for the private room later? Plz i beg

Seungcheol takes this time to take off his boxer briefs, cock curving up against his abdomen when he’s fully naked across from you. He wraps a hand around his cock, moaning and spreading the precum down his shaft as you watch. “D’you want this, baby?”

Your lips fall open in a silent moan as you watch Seungcheol jerk himself off and you can’t help but squirm. “Y-yes…”

“Tell me exactly what you want then. Let them hear what a filthy little slut you are for me.” You can’t help but feel miserably empty watching him and despite having already cum twice, you want his cock fucking you open and making you cum again.

“I--I--”

“Yes, babygirl?”

“I, ngh, I want d-daddy’s cock… Please? Ah, I--I wanna feel you fucking my--my pussy into the, mmh, s-shape of your c-cock… And I w-want you to c-cum inside my--my slutty little h-hole…”

Seungcheol scoffs, hips shallowly thrusting up into his enclosed fist. “That’s right. You’re just my slutty ‘lil babygirl that lets me use all her tight holes how I please, right? You like it when I cum down your throat and in your pretty ‘lil ass. But we all know you like it best when I cum in your hot ‘lil cunt. Makes you feel all warm and full, doesn’t it? You like it when my cum is dripping out of your spent cunt and sliding down your shaky thighs.” This time you nod furiously as you whine back in response.

“P-please… Can’t wait any--anymore!”

This time, the impatience takes over as you slightly tug on the ropes; whining when they don’t give. “Daddy!”

And this time, he gives in quicker than he anticipates, growling as he reaches for the EMT shears to cut you from the harness. “Don’t let your arms down, no matter how much you want to. You’re going to strain your arms if you move too fast so let me handle it, okay, sweetheart?”

The sudden gentleness in his voice has a giddy warmth pouring over you as you nod and sit still while he cuts at various points of the harness to make the ropes fall loose around your arms and chest. You keep your arms in the same position like he requested and you soon feel his hands roaming your skin and massaging your arms to get the blood flowing again.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” He whispers against your hair, leaning down to kiss your shoulder before he slowly easing your arms down from being folded behind your back.

He continues to massage your arms for a few more minutes before it’s you that’s getting impatient. “Daddy… Can you fuck me now?” Whispering, you slightly turn your body to the side to meet his gentle stare.

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, nodding. “Lay on your back for me, legs spread.”

You follow his orders as you quickly scramble to get into position; legs spread wide for him to situate himself between.

“Mm, your pussy is still so fuckin’ wet. I wanna taste you on my tongue, baby.” Whines spill from your lips as you shake your head ‘no.’

“No! My p-pussy feels empty, I need y-your cock, daddy… ‘n I’m so wet, you can probably, ah, just s-slide your cock in…”

He wraps a hand around his cock just as you wrap your legs around his waist and he guides himself until the head of his cock is right at your entrance.

Neither of you say a word as he slowly starts to sink his cock in; guttural moans on his lips when he meets no resistance and bottoms out in a singular thrust. “Holy fuck, your cunt is so fuckin’ wet. Shit, and so t-tight!” You clench around him, already feeling good with his cock inside of you as you beg him to fuck you hard and fast.

“Ngh, p-please fuck me like--like I’m your, hah, c-cocksleeve… I want it f-fast, daddy!”

He grits his teeth at your words; drawing his hips back before snapping them into you just how you wanted. “Fast, hmm? All you think about in that pretty head of yours is my cock pounding you open, huh? Slamming into you so fuckin’ good, it makes your toes curl when you cum.”

Seungcheol starts a quick pace, already feeling the pleasure building up for himself when you’re reduced to garbled noises and broken cries of his name. The heels of your feet dig into the small of his back as you try to press him in closer and he’s quick to reach for the small bullet vibrator left on the bed next to your body.

“Your body is so fuckin’ sensitive, I can already feel how tight you’re getting around me. So fuckin’ greedy to cum too. Already came twice and you still want more. You’re not satisfied until your whole body is shaking underneath me, huh, sweetheart?” He turns the small toy on, pressing it to your clit as you yelp and let out choked sobs.

“Ah, ngh, d-daddy, my--my clit’s t-too sen--sensitive! I--I can’t--!” Squirming, you feel the pressure building up obscenely quick; bottom lip quivering when he takes one of your free hands and makes you hold the toy to your swollen clit.

“Just a little more, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna cum?”

He angles his thrusts to graze against your g-spot and loud cries of his name leave your lips in a hurried, jumbled mess when he only doubles his pace.

The sound of donations and comments pour in like water and get lost within the ringing in your ears; unable to even warn Seungcheol that you’re about to cum when you feel your entire body starting to lock up underneath him.

Your lips part in a silent scream and your back bows off of the bed, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you cum for the third time. Seungcheol growls, fucking you through it as you squirt all over his lower half.  He finds it harder and harder to thrust into you as you cum, but he feels himself quickly following suit with your warm walls fluttering around his cock.

“Fuck, baby, that’s right. Squirt for me, get me fuckin’ soaked while you cum.” He uses a free hand to make sure you keep the toy pressed to your clit, growling when he starts to unload his cum inside of you. “Mmh, gonna fill your cunt up with what you want, baby.”

A shaky moan leaves your lips as you feel him throbbing inside your pussy; walls clamped down onto him in a vice grip as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm.

“Ah, d-daddy’s cumming suh--so much inside of my p-pussy…”

Whining, you feel Seungcheol’s grip on your hand give way as he rides out his pleasure and you take the opportunity to turn off the small bullet vibrator while he doesn’t notice.

You watch his face contort in pleasure, hips still shallowly thrusting into you as his entire body shivers above you.

“D-daddy’s so h-handsome...” You mumble, cheeks hot when he cracks a smile through the pleasure wracking his body and chuckles under his breath. 

“Thank you, babygirl.” 

After you end the show, Seungcheol makes sure to cuddle with you on the bed for a little while longer.

“One more glass of water, baby.” You whine in response, pouting up at him before he gets up from the soaked sheets. 

“But I already had a glass! If you have a piss kink just say so, ‘Cheol!”

He lets out a boisterous laugh at your comment, trudging back to the bed from the kitchen with another glass of water for you. “You need to be hydrated, sweetheart. You came three times and we played a little more rough today. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” 

“Fine, but you didn’t deny my comment.” You snarkily reply, taking the glass from him as you down the water. 

“Don’t make me have to punish you again! I’ll have you know I still need to get you all washed up and change the bed--”

A faint pinging has the two of you turning to the laptop; still on your camming homepage from where you’d checked the revenues from tonight’s show. 

A small [1] sits above your inbox and Seungcheol is quick to turn to you with an eyebrow raised. “I thought you turned off the messaging system on your profile?” 

You tilt your head in confusion, handing him the emptied glass. “I did. The only messages I should get are from, like, the actual system admins or other creator accounts which, I haven’t received any ‘til... now, I guess?”

Seungcheol sets the glass down onto the nightstand before he takes a seat next to you, dragging the laptop closer as you go to check the notification. 

“’Love&Letter Films’? Aren’t they one of the biggest adult film companies?” Mumbling, you click on the message, giving yourself and Seungcheol a second to process the message that stares back at you; a shocked smile on your lips.

‘Hello!

I hope this message finds Cherry and Seungcheol well. 

We, at ‘Love&Letter Films’, have really enjoyed the shows and videos from your channel throughout the years and we really have enjoyed watching the growth of your channel and the addition of Seungcheol to it. The dynamics between the two of you are rare in this industry and we’ve yet to see anyone like the two of you in this market. 

The shows from the last two nights have proven that the two of you have the right kind of chemistry to film together for bigger productions and we would love to hire you for a few film productions we have planned in the upcoming weeks as a feeler. Of course, all expenses paid by us if you would kindly take our offer. 

We love the various scenes and roles that the two of you take on with ease and we would love to help propel your careers forward, should you pursue a career in the adult entertainment industry. 

Please don’t hesitate to contact me as I’ve listed my contact information below. I’m excited to hear from the two of you and hope to work with you in the future on many projects.

Respectfully, 

Kwon Soonyoung, L&L FILMS CEO’

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Bath Bomb

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: Bakugou

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"Come on, girls! Let's go here next!"

You giggled with your friends as you hurried to keep close with one another in the crowded street. Today was one of your bi-annual girls' day out with all your gal pals from the former class A.

It so happened that this outing was planned and organized by Yaomomo, and she had decided to take you all on a shopping trip to Harajuku. Everyone was already laden with bags, some even assisted by Ochaco in lightening the heavier ones.

The store Momo had pointed to was a quaint LUSH store, where pink neon lights glowed in the windows.

All seven of you eagerly crowded into the store, breaking off into smaller groups to wander around. You ended up with Toru and Mina, wandering over to one of the walls packed nearly floor to ceiling with colorful bath bombs.

"Look at them all," Toru breathed, carefully bringing one up to her invisible nose for a sniff.

You walked around with them, occasionally pointing out a particularly cutely shaped or colorful one.

Suddenly, you felt a hand alight on your arm. "(Y/N)!" Mina said, barely stifling a giggle. "Look at that one!"

Your eyes followed the direction her finger pointed, finally landing on an egg-shaped turquoise bath bomb. Except, it wasn't meant to be an egg. This was unmistakably a grenade.

"Oh, I get it," you said. "Bath bomb, and it's a grenade. That is pretty funny."

"Well, yeah, but what I meant was—" Mina paused to grin and wiggle her eyebrows at you. "I think you might be able to enjoy that with a certain explosive someone, perhaps?"

Heat flooded into your cheeks as you realized she was talking about your fiancé, Bakugou Katsuki. Now that she mentioned it, it did remind you of him. The mold it had come from was similar to the very real explosives he kept on his hero belt.

"You should totally get it!" she went on, practically bouncing on her toes.

You picked one up, feeling its shape and weight. It was easily the size of your palm, and you finally let your hand take it up to your nose for a quick sniff. Lavender and rosemary greeted your senses. It was a very pleasant mix and you held it up so Mina could get a whiff of her own.

"Mmm," she said, briefly fluttering her eyelids closed. "Yep. You're getting that."

She pulled you with her so you could grab a tray together, gently placing it in the little holder. Everyone browsed for another twenty minutes or so before finally checking out. You had decided on an additional bath bomb for yourself along with something called a bubble bar, but you were truly the most excited about the distinct blue-green grenade that innocently rested at the bottom of your bag. As your group left the store, you couldn't wait for a chance to try out what you'd bought. It would be a nice way to surprise Katsuki when he got home. Additionally, it provided an excuse to relax together and spend time in each other's presence.

You had to snap yourself out of a quick daydream you'd begun to sink into in order to answer Jirou, silently grinning to yourself in anticipation for what was to come.

. . . . . . . .

Not three days later, you finally found your chance.

You got home earlier than he did, which was normal. As you began your routine of amusing yourself while you waited for Katsuki to come home, you felt a buzz emanating from your pocket. It turned out to be a call from none other than your fiancé himself, Bakugou.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" you said into the phone, uncertain as to why he was calling.

"Just wanted to let you know I'm coming home early," his gruff voice came through. "Do you want anything for dinner? I know it's been awhile since we've had that takeout you like."

Your eyes lit up. "You'd do that?"

Katsuki grumbled on his end of the phone, however you could hear that there was no malice behind it. "Yes. I don't understand why you like it so much, especially because of how bad for you it is and when my cooking is so much better, but I'll get it. For you."

"Thank you so much!"

"Whatever."

Thus went most of your conversations with the blond. You were used to it by now, so you merely smiled. "I love you."

Katsuki's voice abruptly changed to tender. "I love you too."

Your smile only brightened as the end-call tone sounded in your ear. You loved everything about Katsuki, even his overly boorish nature. It only made the moments he let it slip all the sweeter. You knew you were the only one who got to witness that softer side to him, and it made your heart swell every time.

You flopped back into position on your couch, mind beginning to wander through possibilities of what you could do during your evening with Bakugou. You quickly remembered the little bath bomb you had shoved into the back of the bathroom cabinet. That would be perfect! You decided to wait until after dinner and then surprise him with the little plan that was already beginning to take form within your mind.

The lock on your door clicked a few minutes later, alerting you that Bakugou had come home. You rose to greet him, strolling into the kitchen to see him setting a bag down on the counter.

You walked up to his side and pecked him on the cheek. "Welcome home, babe."

Katsuki's vermilion eyes met yours as you leaned into him, draping an arm around his waist. "Hey."

"How was work?"

"Not bad," he answered, reaching up into a cabinet and pulling out two glasses, handing one to you.

You grabbed the bag and went to your little table, going back into the kitchen to fill your cup with ice and water once Katsuki was done. The two of you settled at the table, taking out the boxes of food he'd bought for you.

"So why did they let you off early?" you inquired, plunging your chopsticks into a personal container of noodles.

"Dumbass advisor told me to go home," he answered. "Villain hit me with their quirk or something and I got a little dinged up."

"Are you alright?" you asked, suddenly concerned.

"Of course. They just told me to stay in and rest. Pathetic, thinking I'm weak or some shit."

"'Tsuki, you know he just cares about you."

Bakugou made his classic tch noise, scowling back down into his mixed vegetables. "The only reason I agreed to leave was so that I could spend more time with you."

You looked back to him, hoping to catch those ruby eyes of his. He refused to offer them, however, and you eventually gave up, going back to your food.

"I know you don't see me as often as you'd like to," he continued, his voice little more than a mutter. "It's been a while since we've been able to spend a day together, let alone plan our—our wedding."

It was true. Even today, for Katsuki, he'd gotten home early, but you weren't blind to the fact that it was already half past seven. Some nights you'd be up until nearly two AM, waiting for his footsteps to come in through your door. You never ceased to stay awake for him, however, filling some of your free time with planning for your wedding ceremony. Bakugou was letting you handle most of it, although it wasn't as though he had much choice. That didn't stop you from trying to include him any way you could; occasionally talking over what you'd thought of and decided on that day while the two of you lay in bed together. Sometimes lying alone with one another in cool darkness were the only moments you could share, quietly conversing until one of you fell victim to the sleep that had been pressing at the backs of both of your eyes for the last few hours.

You had to hope that one day it would get better. Someday, he may be able to catch more breaks. Maybe someday, society would be fixed so that crime would dwindle to nearly nothing. But that someday was far, far away, if it even would ever come at all. All you could do was be thankful that Katsuki loved his job and rarely got injured. It brought in good money too, with his position so high at the top. The only thing that mattered was that he somehow walked in through that door at the end of each day, no matter what time it was or how long the two of you had gone without sleep. No matter what, you'd always be there, waiting for him.

Your hand snaked its way across the table to settle on top of Katsuki's, finally getting him to look up at you. "It's okay," you assured him. "You're here now. I couldn't be happier."

You both sat, looking at each other in a silent moment, his palm having turned to take yours, thumb gently stroking the outside of your hand.

Flicking your eyes down, you let a small smile creep onto your lips. "I actually have a little surprise for you," you said. "It's for after dinner."

Bakugou breathed out a little laugh in a singular huff, going back to consuming your "shitty takeout" food. "Do you, now?"

"Uh huh."

You could tell he was curious. Bakugou wasn't really one who was much for surprises, but he trusted you.

It wasn't too much longer before you finished your meal, taking the cardboard containers and stuffing them back into the bag they had come from. Bakugou put the glasses on the counter next to the sink while you tied up the trash bag and tossed it out, double checking that the table was clear and clean.

"Ready?" you asked, running your hand down his forearm until it met his own, intertwining your fingers.

"Sure."

"Let's get started, then."

You led him to the bathroom, letting go of his hand so you could turn on the tap for your bathtub. It was just the right size for the two of you to comfortably sit together in, and this was hardly your first time doing so.

"You wanted me to take a bath?" Katsuki asked, watching you adjust the temperature.

"Well, yes, but—" you turned and strode over to the cabinet, rummaging around for the object of interest. You pulled out the bag, reaching in to show off the little grenade. "Ta-da!"

Bakugou looked at it, slightly unimpressed. "What is it?"

"It's a bath bomb," you explained. "I saw it the other day when I was out shopping with the girls and it reminded me of you." You watched his expression, but it hadn't really changed. "So are you interested?"

Katsuki finally let the smallest of smiles grace his lips. "Sure. I was planning on showering here anyway. A bath will do."

"Am I invited?" you asked, just to make sure.

"Of course you are, dumbass," he said, looking nearly offended that you might have thought otherwise.

"Well, then. Let's get to it."

The two of you started stripping off your clothes, discarding them on the floor. When you glanced up at Bakugou, you noticed a little red mark on his shoulder, disappearing over the peak and presumably continuing on his back. You stepped closer, walking around behind him, ignoring a half-hearted protest from the man who was sporting it. A large, red blotchy welt bloomed on the skin of his back, and when you touched it as gently as possible with your fingertips, you found that it was nearly burning.

"Katsuki, baby," you crooned concernedly, unable to take your eyes off it.

"That was the best the healing guy could do," he explained, his voice quieter than usual. "It was worse before, but that's why I got sent home."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not really."

You clicked your tongue, still figuring it probably did hurt more than he would ever let on. You gently kissed a patch of unmarked skin next to it, just to be safe.

Knowing how much Bakugou hated it when you fussed over any injuries he got, you finally left to grab the bath bomb. You traded it for your engagement ring, sliding off the gold band and picking up the green grenade from where you had set it on the counter. The faucet handle of the tub was cool in your hand as you turned the water off, having moved back over to its edge. You shifted your appendage to flick your fingers in the water to check the temperature. It was just right; not too hot, not too cold.

"Come here," you beckoned Katsuki to your side. "Watch this."

You dropped the bath grenade into the water, both of you watching as it began to fizz at the bottom. The water began to take on a cartoonish lagoon-blue tint, and the smell of rosemary and lavender began to sweetly float into the air.

"Now come on," you said, stepping into the tub. Katsuki followed in after you, and you let him sit down and adjust before sliding into his lap. You leaned against his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you. You scanned his face, searching for any signs of discomfort. You found that sometimes it was the best way to tell what he was feeling, rather than asking.

Nevertheless, his eyes were gently shut, jaw relaxed. An eyelid slid open to peer at you, a tiny sliver of red just scarcely able to be seen.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" he asked, tone conversational.

"You."

"Feh."

"'Feh'," you mocked. "The great Bakugou Katsuki, 20—"

"Stop," he interrupted, sending a splash of scented unnaturally blue water over your shoulder. You giggled, nuzzling closer into his chest in your giddiness. A deep inhale and exhale went through your man's lungs, and you followed the idea soon after. The lavender really did do something to your brain, almost magically quieting your thoughts as you felt calm steal over your body.

You'd missed this, just being able to spend time with the love of your life, relaxing together. The water you both were encased in was so soothingly warm, reaching you where Katsuki's hold could not.

"So how did your day go?" you asked, keeping your eyes shut as you snuggled into him. "Tell me all about the villains you vanquished."

You could practically hear Katsuki grin above you, and without hesitation he launched into an anecdote about a man he'd apprehended early that morning. You knew how much he loved talking about his great feats of heroism. It seemed to be a bit of an ego booster for him, watching your face as you reacted to his account of his day.

You felt him shift slightly, not ceasing in his talk. The sound of a shampoo bottle popping open met your ears, and soon after, Bakugou's fingers were lacing through your damp hair, spreading the cleansing scent throughout your scalp.

You hummed and leaned into his touch, enjoying the added sensation while he finished up his speech.

"—shoulda seen the look on the little shit's face when he realized there was nothing he could do. I had him, just like that. Damn extra, didn't even have that much paperwork to file on him."

"Mmm," you hummed in acknowledgement. "Oh, baby, that feels so good."

Bakugou continued rubbing circles into your scalp, lather and foam coating his hands. You loved his hands. They were so large and strong; the source of his power, the source of his pride.

Finally he swirled your hair up and out of the way into a makeshift twist-bun, held together sheerly by the sticky shampoo lather. He took a bar of your favorite soap and began to run it over the skin of your back and shoulders, applying a delicious amount of pressure to muscles you hadn't even known were tensed. Satisfied with the slippery coating, Katsuki went back to using those hands of his, rolling the heels perfectly into you, alternating between palms and knuckles.

"'Tsuki," you said, voice hazy from how good it felt, "this was supposed to be for you."

"Yes, and?"

You pouted, eyes still lidded. "You're supposed to be relaxing."

"This is how I relax."

"Yeah, but—"

"Did I fucking stutter?"

You snorted, letting him continue his business in massaging your back. "Okay, but you're next."

"You wish."

"Did I fucking stutter?" you countered, using his own words against him. "You can't escape me. You're going to feel good by the time we get out of here, and that's a rock fact."

Even Katsuki had to have known his grumbles sounded fake. It was rare for him to show it, but you knew that every now and then he reveled in having you take care of him. Whether it be working out knots in his muscles or rubbing cream into his burns, there was a secret side to him that would allow you to tend to him. His brash persona had to be let down sometime, and every day you felt honored that you were among the few people who he trusted enough to see him without it.

Katsuki finally began to pour water over your back, the warmth trickling down and bringing the soap right with it. He leaned you back so your hair was submerged and your head was in his lap. His fingers began to wind through your tresses again, shaking the shampoo bubbles into the water around you. Without fail, Bakugou always insisted that you were completely taken care of before he ever allowed anything to be done to himself. There was nothing you could do to protest, that's just the way it was. Firm but gentle fingertip pads were pressed into your shoulders, signaling for you to sit up.

He began the process over again with your conditioner, squirting some on his hand before running it through the strands of hair that fell from your head.

"Have the energy to talk about our wedding?" you asked, eyes flicking up to the counter where your sparkling ring sat waiting.

"Sure."

You ran over a few thoughts you'd gotten to recently. You already had a pretty solid guest list, a venue in mind, arrangements for flowers, the cake, dresses, and even the suit Bakugou had picked out. Now was the more practical stuff; scheduling and seating, sketching out designs for the invitations.

You relayed over the conversation you'd had with Momo earlier yesterday. You were so thankful to have her as a friend, helping you plan. It was almost as if she knew what she was doing, at least, more than you did. She was good with decision making and had your best interests at heart.

Bakugou listened while he continued to thread his fingers through your hair, occasionally commenting or making little noises of acknowledgment while you spoke. It wasn't long before he tapped your shoulder, ready to dip you again.

The water that flooded your ears distorted your voice as you continued talking. You wished you had your laptop in front of you so you could show him your detailed spreadsheet.

You finally sat up, him having finished rinsing once again. You paused in your conversation to say, "Now it's your turn."

He turned, trying to find a moderately comfortable means to lean back so you could reach the top of his head. You cupped water in your hands and used it to wet his ash blond hair. Satisfied at its newly damp state, you pulled down his shampoo. Which also happened to be his conditioner.

You'd always grumbled at him for being tacky and using it, but his argument was that he didn't need anything more. It was cheap and quick and he refused to budge from his stance on it. At least you'd gotten him to start picking up scents you liked. This one was coconut. You glanced at the upside down bottle in your hand as you squeezed some out, silently cringing at the 3-in-1 proudly printed on the sticker. What bothered you was probably the sheer difference in male vs female advertised products. You wouldn't be surprised if they came out with something that he could brush his teeth with too.

You spread it over his spikes, each point becoming droopy under the weight of the water that had soaked into them. You couldn't help but notice how Bakugou leaned into your touch. Your voice began to trail off as you focused on his hair. It didn't take long to spread the shampoo through his short blond hair, working it into his roots. Next you moved down to his neck, trying to keep your fingers away from any reddened areas. Your hands skillfully moved over his back, much like his had done to yours a few moments prior. His skin was soon covered in a fine layer of suds, deliciously scented as you finally began to rinse both it and his hair with the now scarcely lukewarm water.

"You feel any better, Katsuki?" you asked, leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder.

"From what?" he shot back, annoyed that you'd suggest he was ever anything less than 'fine'.

"I don't know," you said, keeping your tone soft. "You still haven't told me how you got this today." You gingerly tapped a patch of skin on his back, still flushed but now glistening with moisture.

He abruptly stood, water running in rivulets down his legs as he stepped out of your bath. Bakugou wordlessly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, exiting the bathroom with nothing more than it and heavy footsteps.

You sighed and chewed on your lip, collecting yourself before pulling the plug from the drain. Your fingers slid through the receding water, eventually locating the fizzing remains of your grenade and setting it on the ledge. You lifted yourself out and grabbed a towel, sliding your ring back onto your finger before finally leaving the warm, steamy bathroom to find Katsuki.

It wasn't difficult to locate the blond, finding him in the first place you checked; your bedroom. He laid on his back, palms supporting his head while his elbows stretched out on either side. He wore only a pair of loose-fitting orange and black gym shorts, slung low on his hips as he gazed up at the ceiling.

You decided it would be best to not force him to talk, opting to begin work on patting your hair dry with your towel before slipping on one of Katsuki's large, old t-shirts and some cotton panties. The bed dipped under your weight as you sat at the edge, silently beginning to finger comb your damp hair. You listened to nothing but your own heartbeat steadily thumping in your chest, concern for your fiancé clouding your thoughts.

Before you could turn around to ask him what was wrong, Bakugou finally spoke. "Why did you agree to marry me?"

The question caught you so completely off guard, a scoff escaped your throat. "Because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Why are you asking me that?"

Katsuki's frown deepened. "It's just that . . . sometimes I wonder if you don't deserve this. I never see you. When I do, I'm not the . . . nicest person. You could—you would probably be better off with someone different."

You rubbed your hand soothingly over his toned belly. "Was today not a good day?"

Bakugou chewed on the inside of his cheek. You recognized the blank look in his eyes, signaling that he was trying to distance himself from his emotions. "He got away."

"Who?" you asked quietly, shifting so you could comfortably run your hands over him. The action was meant to try to calm him and ease him from behind his figurative walls.

"The villain who—who hurt me. I didn't catch him and it's all my fault. I lost. I'm a failure."

You frowned at his words. This must have really affected him if he was willing to break down so much in front of you. Bakugou had always had the mindset that he always had to win. That was how he decided he would be the greatest hero. A blow like this had to hurt.

You laid down and pulled yourself against his side, ducking under his arm so he had no choice but to hold you to his warm chest. You placed a kiss over one of his pecs, your gentle fingers never ceasing in their soothing up and down motions over his abs.

"You're far from a failure, Katsuki," you said softly in his ear. "Things like this happen."

"Not to me," he grumbled, turning his head away from you.

"You'll catch him next time, I'm sure of it."

Bakugou huffed beside you. "I should be out there, hunting him down," he finally said.

"Not in this condition," you stated firmly, tapping a finger against his skin.

You could see Bakugou's lip curl over his teeth. "It's not like I can't fight. I barely even hurt anymore. I can—"

"I wasn't talking about your wound."

He turned his head, finally looking at you. Confusion and suspicion swam in his vermilion eyes, but you used the opportunity to place your hand on his cheek.

"You're down on yourself," you said. "You need some time off. You're working so much and so hard, which is a good thing, but I think you need some time away."

Bakugou rested his hand over yours, gazing into your eyes. "I can't just let him go," he stated simply. "I can't afford to take time off."

"I know," you sighed. "But just for tonight? For me? You deserve it."

Your fiancé sighed. There wasn't anything he wanted more then than to hold you in his arms and forget for a few moments. Forget about his demanding job and getting a whole new hero agency kicked off the ground. Forget about his sworn responsibilities to the world. Forget about that damned bastard who got away.

A grumble sounded deep within Bakugou's chest, signaling to you that he had caved. You let him tug you forward and pull you into a kiss, attacking your lips in that perfectly rough but sweet way that you craved and loved.

Once he was temporarily satisfied, he cradled you against his bare chest for several minutes, refusing to move until all the stress had slowly trickled out of his muscles. You nuzzled into his bare skin, which still smelled so deliciously fresh after having gotten out of your bath.

"I love you," Bakugou finally said. "You know that, right?"

"Of course." Your voice came out a bit muffled, but you had little interest in adjusting from your position.

"I do want to get married," he went on. "To you. Maybe start a family . . . . It wouldn't be so bad, having a little fuckin' monster running around."

Your heart leapt at the idea of having a baby with the pro hero. It was something you'd thought about quite a bit, actually. "And is this child's 'fuckin' monster' qualities from you or from me?"

"You, obviously."

You laughed at Katsuki's joke, glad that he was beginning to feel better. When you looked back into his face, you were pleased to find that even he was smiling just a little bit.

You kissed his skin again as a way to segway to another topic. "So what do you want to do for the rest of your evening off?"

"Maybe we could watch something." He shrugged. "I don't care as long as I'm holding you."

His wish was an easy one to have come true. Within minutes you were relocated to the couch, snuggled up under a blanket together with a bowl of popcorn, watching something you both had been able to agree upon.

Your relationship with Katsuki wasn't an easy one, but there was no one else in the whole world you'd rather spend a lifetime with.

⋘ ──────── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──────── ⋙

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @pyrofanatic​​ @xoxopam4​

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 4

Hiya @pocketramblr

.

While the other ghosts watched poor Izuku more and more, Yoichi gathered a pile of pillows and beanbags, and a small container of popcorn, then dropped unceremoniously onto the pile, ready to watch a bunch of teens beat the tar out of each other. En noticed this, glanced at him, and did a double-take.

"Since when do you have popcorn? How do you have popcorn? Where did you get it? Have you been holding out on me? Can I have some? I'll fight you!"

"Uh... it isn't real," said Yoichi.

"Neither are we!"

"No, I mean, you can't taste it. Or smell it. It's just a construct. For the aesthetic." Something none of them really bothered with, lately, but Yoichi wanted to put the effort in for Izuku. Even if Izuku probably would never be aware of it.

"But... popcorn..."

"Shhh! It's starting!"

.

The first round was Kouda and Satou vs Yaoyorzu and Kirishima.

If he had to guess, he'd say Yaoyorozu and Kirishima would win. Yaoyorozu's quirk was perfect for setting up quick and simple barriers and traps, and Kirishima's was good for defense as well.

That wasn't to say Kouda and Satou couldn't win as well... Satou had what seemed to be a fairly powerful strength enhancer, perfect for ripping through hastily constructed defenses, and Izuku didn't know if Kirishima would be able to completely counter him.

Izuku also wasn't entirely sure what Kouda's quirk was. His first guess would have been a physical mutation, given his appearance, but thinking back, it didn't seem like he'd used anything like that during the quirk assessment, so those features were most likely vestigial, like Izuku's hair color, which suggested a less physical quirk. It had to be something that could be applied in combat against robots, though. Izuku was the only one who'd passed without villain points.

So, it could go either way.

He could continue to analyze, but his attention was drawn back to the team he'd be facing. Hagakure and Monoma.

A blush rose up in his cheeks. It had to be Hagakure. He still hadn't apologized for running into her during the entrance exam. Hand to hand against her was going to be tough- he could only hope the support department had given her an invisible costume, and she wasn't... well... uncostumed. Again.

But, beyond that, not being able to see her would be a problem. She could get to the fake bomb without him even noticing.

Monoma would be a challenge, too. Given the number of pocket watches on his costume, Izuku suspected he had a time limit for how long he could copy a quirk. But he had no idea how long that could be, and it could be misdirection, too. Izuku certainly wouldn't want to telegraph a weakness like that if he had that kind of quirk.

Another option could be that he could only hold one quirk copy at a time. That'd be trickier for Izuku to deal with. Either way, he doubted Monoma could permanently hold an unlimited number of quirk copies. Monoma's personality was all wrong for that, and he didn't have Iida's engines anymore- unless he could choose to dump quirks? But why would he do that? Izuku's (formerly) quirkless sensibilities rebelled against the very thought.

He was overthinking this. He'd have to assume that Monoma could come at him with any quirk in the class. So. What would be the most inconvenient? All Might's, except Izuku had All Might's, and Monoma wasn't able to use it.

(Oh, and that could be a problem, couldn't it? Could Monoma be able to tell All Might didn't have a quirk anymore?)

Well, judging from what he was seeing right now, Izuku really didn't want him to take Yaoyorozu's quirk. It was sort of terrifying.

Other scary ones would be Todoroki (he'd launched that ball with a glacier) and Tokoyami (a sentient quirk! So cool!) but he thought Monoma would avoid Shouji and Asui (full body mutations). Other than that... Monoma would probably wait and see who did the best, or which quirk would work best with Hagakure's.

He'd have to take Hagakure's quirk into account, too. What if they both came at him invisibly (and naked)? Izuku would die...

Each battle lasted for up to fifteen minutes, not counting the ten minutes the villain team had to set up. That's how long Izuku had to defend the fake bomb. As the defender, Izuku had another handicap. He only had to fail once to fail entirely...

No. Stop that. This was a school exercise, and All Might wasn't going to expell him. Losing would suck, but he'd be together with half the class on that front. The important thing was learning from the experience. And not getting too hurt.

Right. He returned his gaze to the screen as the match started.

.

"We're a sentient quirk, too," said Banjo. "Aren't we cool?"

"He doesn't know we're sentient, though," said Yoichi. "Also, he spent like two months straight gushing about how cool One for All was when we were with Eighth. Didn't you get enough?"

Banjo sulked. "It isn't the same."

"Speaking of Monoma," said En, "why didn't you slap his little grabby hands away from One for All yesterday?"

"Because a late bloomer is one thing, but someone confirmed not to have a quirk suddenly having bone-breaking super strength? Yeah. No. Yagi might have beaten my brother, but that doesn't mean everyone who worked for him is gone. Eight never knew about Garaki at all."

"Way to bring down the mood, En," said Banjo, elbowing the younger ghost.

"The mood was already brought down by the fake popcorn."

.

Izuku wrote furiously in his notebook, trying to record every detail of the match. He pulled one of his gloves off with his teeth to get a better grip on his pencil. He'd need to practice writing with gloves on. He was missing important notes. Speaking of which...

"Can we get copies of these recordings?"

"You should be able to access them through your Ultra Account on the school website!"

Izuku nodded and continued writing. As expected, Kirishima and Satou had gotten into a one on one fight down the hallway from the bomb room. Unexpectedly, however, they had seemed rather hesitant to hit each other. At least, until Satou dumped a packet of white powder (sugar according to All Might) into his mouth and started smacking at Kirishima indiscriminately. Kouda, meanwhile, had sent a small army of mice (animal control! Very cool) at Yaoyorozu, who had responded with mousetraps.

The clock ran out, to the villains' victory.

.

"It was surprisingly hard to hit someone," admitted Kirishima in the debrief.

"We've been socialized to avoid violence," said All Might, nodding. "Overcoming that hesitation is part of our training. As is when not to use force."

.

Next up were Kaminari and Sero vs Aoyama and Jirou.

Kaminari entered the building first, quickly engaging Aoyama, who had been directed towards Kaminari by Jirou. That fight got loud quickly. Sero, meanwhile, scaled the outside of the building with his tape.

Kaminari ultimately defeated himself with his own quirk (that was a pretty severe drawback- maybe Kaminari should consider other fighting styles?), which allowed Jirou to hear Sero climbing up the wall. But Aoyama couldn't get back fast enough to prevent Jirou from being captured by Sero.

.

"I think Kaminari was the MVP," said Izuku. "He did hurt himself, which was bad, but his sacrifice allowed his teammate to safely reach the objective. If he hadn't, um, shorted out...? It would have been better, of course, but..."

Yaoyorozu shook her head. "Sero managed to capture one of the villains and safely reach the bomb. Additionally, he's the one who came up with the plan of attack."

"Ah," said Izuku, "that's- that's true..."

"Regardless, it is a plan that only bore fruit due to teamwork! Excellent work! Jirou, Aoyama, your division of labor was also a good plan, but don't forget the enemies you don't see! Time for our next match!"

.

This time, Asui and Tokoyami were defending against Todoroki and Uraraka.

"Good luck," Izuku said, waving slightly to Uraraka.

"Thanks!" She gave him two thumbs up as she trailed slightly behind Todoroki. "So," she said, as they walked out through the door, "how are we doing-?"

The door closed. Izuku winced. Surely, they had strategized beforehand...

.

"Young Todoroki," said All Might, somewhat sternly, "you... that was certainly an impressive display, but even when dealing with real villains, a hero has to be conscious of the damage they may do. A large number of villains are only minor criminals, or even otherwise ordinary citizens having a bad day."

"That's not what the media says," mumbled Todoroki, though he looked pale as medi-bots carried Asui from the scene.

"The media is full of sensationalists. And even if it weren't, Asui isn't a real villain. There is a difference," he said, very gently, "between going beyond and going too far."

All Might paused. Todoroki hunched his shoulders. There was something familiar about his posture, something that made Izuku's stomach knot.

All Might continued. "It was a good strategy. Against another team, or against real villains, it would have been a more than appropriate strategy. In fact, it was even an appropriate strategy in this case, since you didn't know Asui had trouble with cold temperatures. But when you encountered her in the hall and noticed how poorly she was doing, you should have hit the emergency stop button."

Instead of laying down mode ice when Asui struggled to get free, which was what actually happened.

"Why didn't you stop the match?" He didn't sound accusatory. Just flat and resigned.

All Might made a face and gestured to the screens on the wall. About half of them showed static and the rest blurry shades of white and gray. Like the rest of the building, they had been iced over.

Todoroki sighed. "How much trouble am I in?"

"You aren't," replied All Might. "In trouble, that is. As your teacher, this is entirely my responsibility. I shouldn't have set you against Asui or should have gone over safety concerns more clearly..." All Might paused, his face that of someone who knew they weren't getting their point across but didn't quite know what the problem was. "Injuries are inevitable in heroics and hero training, but you don't want to maim your classmates. Or minor villains, really, if you can help it. So... consider this a learning moment."

"But it was just ice," said Kaminari.

"Cold kills people frequently," said All Might. "People lose fingers and toes to frostbite regularly. Again, for anyone but Asui, this level of ice for such a short time period wouldn't have caused lasting damage, but it is something to be mindful of. Does... that make sense, young Todoroki?"

"Yes," said Todoroki, head bowed.

"All right. Young Uraraka, thank you for hitting the emergency stop button. It showed good thinking and good awareness. Young Tokoyami, your decision to hide the bomb in the basement was a good one, complimentary to your quirk."

Izuku glanced over at Monoma. He had a sinking suspicion he knew what quirk he would copy.

.

After moving to a new building, Iida and Ashido managed to pull a win as heroes from Ojiro and Shouji by melting a hole in the ceiling above the bomb and then jumping through to tag it after Iida confirmed its location with a scouting run. The general consensus of the class was that it was surprisingly clever and out of the box, but that it probably wouldn't have been feasible in real life. Ashido had then sheepishly admitted that she'd come up with the idea after hearing Izuku mumble about it.

This, of course, made Izuku blush. Strawberry would probably bee his nickname from now on.

Better than Deku.

It was his turn to go set up, now.

He was unlikely to be able to beat Hagakure and Monoma at the same time, even if Monoma didn't copy any quirks at all. Assuming they didn't split up, a ridiculous course of action, he'd have to find a way to protect the bomb other than physically defending it.

This was the problem that had been plaguing him all afternoon.

He had to hide it. Then, he either had to hide himself or use his location to steer them away from where the bomb really was. His capture would also lose him the match, so he had to be careful.

He carried the bomb to the top floor. Uraraka's quirk could get them up there, but Izuku didn't think Monoma could handle the nausea. And if he did have a time limit, he wouldn't want to be airborne when it ran out. Sero had demonstrated his quirk could get him up the side of the building, but that had clearly also required a lot of skill in climbing, not just the quirk itself.

Iida's quirk would get Monoma to the top of the building fast, but since he'd have to go room by room... Either way, the top floor would slow them down the most, buy Izuku the most time.

The room he picked was full of prop boxes. Izuku had to rearrange them to completely hide the bomb, and there was a chance Monoma and Hagakure would remember what it looked like before, from the camera feeds, but he hoped they'd overlook it.

He still had time. Next...

The second floor had office equipment in it. Clearly old junk the school didn't mind loosing. Izuku pulled as much of it out into the hallway as he could, his experience from the beach helping him maneuver quickly. He dumped a lot of it into the stairwell. The rest he left in the hallways.

How much time did he have?

Not long.

He ran up the stairs, to the fourth floor, where Ashido had melted a hole in the floor. Here, he had multiple egress points. It would be harder for them to corner him. Also...

He randomly closed half the doors on the floor. He could pretend to be guarding one of them. Delay them. How much longer?

No time at all.

Right on schedule, the air went dry and cold. Izuku, having planned for this, leapt for one of the door frames and held on. A thin layer of ice, not as thick as the one on the floor, crusted over his gloved fingers.

Izuku counted to five, then let his hands slip out of his gloves and dropped to the floor. Then he reached up and tugged his now empty gloves out of the ice.

He inspected the ice momentarily, and tested his ability to move on it. It wasn't as even or as thick as it had been when Todoroki used it, and the surface was a difficult and unpredictable mixture of smooth and rough... but it would become slicker as it melted.

Good. Izuku had predicted this. It made his closed doors and stacked boxes much more formidable obstacles. The ice wouldn't allow doors to open easily, and the boxes would also be reinforced and hard to move.

Izuku was glad for the conversation All Might had with Todoroki. Although it probably hadn't been his intention, the way he had phrased his commentary on Todoroki's freezing strategy had made it seem like an automatic win, given that it wasn't used against someone who'd be seriously injured by it.

Izuku hadn't been sure they'd do it, since it would handicap Hagakure so much. She couldn't walk around on ice barefoot. Unless she had a secondary mutation that made her skin tougher, or less sensitive to temperature- that would be so cool! No, focus, focus.

Monoma wouldn't have Iida's quirk, either with this strategy. Even if was unfamiliar with speed quirks, he would know that high speeds and ice didn't mix... Unless you were a speed skater, Izuku supposed. But Monoma didn't have ice skates- Unless, unless he took Yaoyorozu's quirk and made ice skates. But that would be horribly impractical with this uneven ice, and probably wouldn't work with Iida's quirk at all. So.

He'd probably have Yaoyorozu's quirk anyway. And after that, for this exercise, Jirou's would be the most valuable. With Jirou's quirk, Monoma would be able to locate Izuku quickly.

Another reason to separate himself from the bomb.

They were coming.

He hid himself out of immediate sight, in the room with the hole, on the off chance that Monoma couldn't hold that many quirks.

There was a clatter from the stairwell.

They were coming.

Muffled voices. A louder thump.

"Maybe if you hadn't frozen everything-"

A sort of fwoosh brought an oddly warm breeze and Izuku hissed. Todoroki's quirk must be more than ice. Given his overall appearance... Fire? Izuku was screwed.

Well. Hopefully his precautions would at least get him a good grade.

There were more scrapes and clatters as Hagakure and Monoma forced their way through the stairwell. Then, relative silence.

They were coming.

"I thought you said he was on this floor," said Hagakure, plaintively.

"He must have gotten free," said Monoma.

"Can't you listen for him again?"

There was a pause. Monoma must have responded nonverbally.

"We'll just have to be careful checking everything out," said Hagakure. "The bomb must be on this floor, after all."

Okay. Okay, great, this was good news for Izuku. He eyed the hole in the floor. Part of him really didn't want to jump through. His brain was supplying him with all the things that could go wrong with such a jump. Especially with the layer of ice. Ugh, he should have dragged one of the office desks up underneath it.

Too late now.

Minding his visibility, Izuku crept over to the side of the hole and lowered himself until he was hanging by his finger tips.

It was still a long fall. Monoma and Hagakure's footsteps were growing closer.

He let go.

He tried to hit the ground properly, but his roll turned into a slide, and he hit a wall at a higher speed than he would have liked. Reflexively he grabbed at his left arm. Ow.

He knew this was going to happen.

"He's on the third floor!"

"What?"

"He jumped through Ashido's hole!"

Izuku forced himself to his feet and sprinted towards the stairs. The second floor had more hiding places than the third. At the last minute, something twinged in the back of his mind, and he tried to stop. Tried. The ice made this difficult.

His legs went out from underneath him, and he went skidding down the hallway on his back, taking a mercifully, mercifully, clothed Hagakure out at the ankles. They slid together into the bottom of the stairs descending from the fourth floor, further battering Izuku's poor arm.

He dodged Hagakure's capture tape and briefly considered pulling out his own, but there was Monoma, cautiously coming down the icy stairs.

Icy stairs.

It seemed neither Izuku nor Monoma had fully considered the obstacles that would result from coating a building like this in ice. Todoroki's ability to maneuver easily on this terrain was, in retrospect, a keystone of the 'freeze everything' strategy, not incidental.

He needed to get away.

He pushed Hagakure off of himself (and noted that she was just as muscular as he was) and slid on his knees to the banister. He pulled himself up and slid down the rail, using the ice to his benefit. Using his uninjured arm, he gripped the end of the banister connected to the wall to slingshot himself down the second floor hallway.

... and almost right into a desk he'd half forgotten he'd put there. He dodged it and recovered quickly before scrambling over the other obstacles in the hallway. He came to a scraping halt and tucked himself into the leg well of one of the desks. A convenient bar meant he could keep his feet off the ground and out of sight as well.

Just like hiding from bullies. Only less dangerous and more fun.

How much time was left?

It had taken them about five minutes to get past the desks on the stairs, then maybe two or three to get to the fourth floor? They hadn't been moving quickly, probably because of the ice. Then, they'd been on the fourth floor for another couple of minutes before Izuku dropped to the third, even if it had felt longer to Izuku. The tussle on the third had taken a minute, tops, so he had... Four minutes left? Less, now.

He could win this. He could run out the clock. Maybe it wasn't the most heroic way to win, but he was supposed to be playing the villain, and he hoped Mr. Yagi would be proud of him anyway.

"Show yourself!" called Monoma. "Or I'll freeze you out."

Could he do that? Maybe he had Jirou's quirk at first, but switched to Todoroki's later, and lost access to Jirou's? If only he knew more about how Monoma's quirk worked... It could be a bluff, too. Even if it wasn't, why would he reveal himself? This late in the game, even if he was frozen in place, he could still win.

And winning... it wasn't something he got to do very often.

A buzz signaled the end of the match. "Villains win! Or, rather villain wins? Good job everyone! Come on out for the final debrief."

.

"MVP, MVP, MVP," chanted Yoichi, Banjo, and En, arms slung around each others' shoulders.

"Our boy is MVP!" cried Banjo.

"You know what this means, of course," said Hikage during a pause in the noise. The other ghosts looked at him. "It means, my quirk is the most valuable. The greatest power in the universe is the power of anxiety."

"Take that back!" said Yoichu, throwing an imaginary kazoo at Hikage. "The most powerful thing in the universe is the power of friendship. Everyone knows that!"

"What about those two?" asked Hikage, pointing at Second and Third.

"Unfortunately, the power of spite is also great," said Yoichi. "Even so, they will soon find themselves defeated."

Nana rubbed her temples. "If I hadn't given up on sanity within ten minutes of waking up in here, this would be what did me in."

.

After an intense practical, the next stop was the nurse's office. There, the class found Asui already mostly recovered, and Izuku found out that he had, in fact broken his arm.

"Are you sure it isn't just a sprain? It is broken?"

"A fracture, and, yes, quite sure. But a sprain can actually be worse than a break- many true sprains never quite heal correctly... either way, with my quirk you don't have to worry about it." She pressed her lips to Izuku's forehead. He felt his energy ebb to a new low. "You should talk to Mr. Aizawa about falling techniques. Your body type is more like his than your other mentor's."

"I- I will," promised Izuku.

"Good. You can go get changed, now."

"Thanks," said Izuku, not quite wobbling out of the room.

"Midoriya!"

He almost jumped out of his skin. "A-ah! Uraraka!"

"Sorry to startle you!"

"No, no, it's fine. What is it?"

"Oh, well, Iida and I were wondering if you'd like to come out with use to a café after school? It's nearby and apparently it has discounts for UA students?"

"Indeed! My older brother talked about it frequently when he was a student here!"

"W-well," said Izuku. He looked at All Might, who was awkwardly supervising and directing other students in the hallway to the locker rooms. All Might caught his eye and nodded. "Sure! That sounds like fun!"

.

This would be the last time Shouta would have to nap after school for a while. From tomorrow on, he'd be alternating quirk counseling with Midoriya with hero work. Why did he agree to do this again?

Kan opened the door to the break room. With him came the acrid smell of smoke and hot dust. "Which companies did the first year costumes this year?" he asked, voice dangerously soft enough to impress Aizawa.

"Why?" asked Hizashi.

"Because I want to... talk to whoever thought it was a good idea to give a fifteen-year-old with no training in demolition not one, but two weapons that could level buildings at full charge. I just want to talk."

Judging by the expression on Kan's face, Shouta seriously doubted that.

Kan took a deep breath. "What about your hellions?"

"Don't know. Yagi had them today."

"And you didn't watch?"

"I was in court."

"What's wrong with Yagi, anyway?"

Shouta, Hizashi, and Kan all turned to where Yagi was splayed in a chair. If the scene were a painting, it could easily be titled 'depression.'

"I'm a failure as a teacher and a hero," he moaned.

"Huh?" said Hizashi. "Why?"

"Young Asui nearly became hypothermic, and young Midoriya fractured his arm."

There was a beat of silence as the others waited for him to go on.

"What?" Kan asked. "Is that it?"

[dontcallmecarrie]

stress + commute + relentless plot bunny = tada, continuation to this!

.

"Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour.” Director Fury said as he settled down into his chair, eyeing him with a wariness one would normally give a live bomb, while at his side, Agent Romanov remained eerily impassive as she surveyed them both. “We’ve got some questions I get the feeling only you can answer.”

For his part, Justin Hammer merely leaned back into his own chair and steepled his fingers with an easy smile— which wasn’t as easy as he made it look, with the way he’d been cuffed. “Like I told the guards the first time, and the fifth, and the twelfth— if I knew what’s going on, I’d tell you.”

Though he could make a very reasonable guess, between Ivan’s latest experiment literally blowing up in all their faces and the whispers he’d been able to catch from the guards. 

“Sure you would.” Director Fury said, no small amount of disbelief in his voice, and he shrugged. 

“Take it from me, I’m about as happy as you are. You think I asked to get dropped smack-dab in the middle of some supermax? When I had a shareholder’s meeting coming up?”

“You appeared the same time an energy fluctuation was registered in several locations around the world.” Agent Romanov said, and Justin blinked. 

“Oh?”

“Your existence is being kept classified, on pain of risking an international incident. Several countries’ systems and power grids were apparently caught up in whatever it is you’re a part of, and they’re not nearly as nice about getting their answers as we are.” She continued, the picture of reason, and Justin couldn’t keep the fondness from his smile because some things never changed, did they?

Of course SHIELD’s shadiness was a fundamental constant. And these guys probably thought they were being so subtle, too; Agent Romanov in particular seemed to think she knew him, which would undoubtedly come in handy in the future but was merely a nuisance at the moment. Not that it hurt to play along for now, but still. 

Come on, give him some credit here.

“Which is all well and good, but the fact of the matter still stands: I. Don’t. Know. All I know is, one minute I’m caught up in the middle of some accident, thinking I’m going to be seeing pearly gates a whole lot earlier than I’d expected, and the next, these gentlemen—” Justin indicated, giving a slight nod to the security guards standing just out of earshot, “are giving me a...interesting welcome to Seagate, let’s just leave it at that.”

He’d be feeling it for a while, at the very least. Thank goodness for brief stint with the rugby club had taught him how to roll with the hit, otherwise some of the bruises he had would’ve been even uglier than they already were. As it was, getting changed into the stupid jumpsuit they’d forced him to wear had been a trial in and of itself, when simply bending over stole his breath away with the way his ribs twinged. 

“That doesn’t answer our question.” Director Fury said, even as Agent Romanov leaned forward slightly.

“We can only help you as much as you help us, Justin.”

He couldn’t help the snort, at that. “What do you want me to say? I’m not some expert in what, dimension-crashing or whatever? Look, I’m not stupid, I saw my twin— or whatever you call him, anyway, I’m not sure how any of this works. Hey, how’d he mess up, anyway? I know I’ve made some poor life choices over the years, but those were mostly terrible haircuts and all-nighters during grad school, not...nothing on this scale.”

Nobody was stupid enough to alienate the CEO of the Hammer Industries, not when they were number one in the defense industry. Not when Justin had enough connections and favors piled up over the years to render him essentially untouchable to anyone but the heaviest of heavy hitters— and even then, they’d have to think twice before going after him.

...in his universe, anyway. 

Which begged the question: just how badly had the Justin of this universe fucked up, for him to be in supermax? He needed to know the playing field before he could make any moves, especially if he wanted to secure anyone’s cooperation in getting home. 

“You saw him?” Agent Romanov’s brow furrowed for a moment, before leaning back into her chair. “They hadn’t mentioned that.”

Justin let the corner of his mouth twitch up, as he also leaned back and shrugged. “These guys? Yeah, I’ve noticed they’re not exactly the chattiest.”

Director Fury’s frown deepened for a moment, before he gave him a searching look followed by a sharp nod as he stood up. “We’re transferring you into our custody. This matter has gone beyond their pay grade.”

With that, he turned and strode towards the interrogation cell’s entrance, Agent Romanov at his side and Justin rubbed his temples for a second at the impending headache because if this was what he thought it was, he was either going to be dealing with the Avengers, or be disappeared to whatever shady hole in the wall SHIELD had that’d make this place look like the Ritz. 

...which also meant the rudimentary plans he’d been working on would be useless. Damn. 

He took a deep breath, and let it out, and pretended it didn’t bother him, even as he watched Director Fury get into what appeared to be a very heated conversation with the prison warden. He couldn’t hear anything, not with the inch-thick bulletproof glass that separated the interrogation cell from the rest of the building. 

As it was, the warden gestured for the guards to escort him back to his cell with his usual scowl, and Justin was good enough to know a power play when he saw one and oh, it was going to be that kind of mess, wasn’t it. 

In the five minutes he’d had the dubious pleasure of meeting him, Seagate Penitentiary’s warden had come across as a jackass who liked to boast about running a tight ship but didn’t actually do anything for it— the epitome of a big fish in a small pond. Which was typically something he could get away with, but if this Director Fury was anything like the one Justin dealt with, then this particular encounter would be the only thing the guards’d be talking about for months.

And then.

The lights flickered for a second, and Justin froze. 

So did the guards who’d been about to escort him back to his cell, some of whom were already reaching for their taser guns and he could already feel one of the guards starting to shove him forward when an unholy screech tore through the air and Justin knew, without a shadow of a doubt, what was happening as he caught a glimpse of familiar silver moments before the entire area plummeted into darkness.

Cabal was here.

.

Victor von Doom was a practical man.

So when his part of the plan had him working with a Winter Soldier who was still in the early stages of recovery from the mindfuck HYDRA was responsible for, he didn’t so much as bat an eye, just made sure he had a few extra backups for if things got hairy.

Which they did, but not for the reasons he or Soldat had expected. 

For one, the interference of SHIELD— which had been something they’d picked up some chatter on, but not enough for concrete dates and he was not happy to find that if they hadn’t broken in when they had, Justin would’ve been snatched up and disappeared off to somewhere even harder to reach. 

...if not for the fact that their plan required surgical precision, Victor would’ve given into the temptation to shoot something. Or someone, he wasn’t picky. 

But needs must, so he gritted his teeth, coldly noted who said what during their eavesdropping, and stuck with the plan he’d formulated because Justin and the others were counting on him. 

For his part, Soldat was a great partner for this aspect of their mission; even though he’d never done fieldwork like this before, and was not used to working with a magic user, he rolled with the punches and the guards never saw him coming. 

Sometimes literally, because one of the few things Victor had mastered was a basic illusion— the magical equivalent of a flash-bang, sure, but it worked. Sure, it took a lot of focus for both of them to pull it off, but the important part is that it worked and their exit was as clear-cut as they could make it.

So when he and Soldat approached, he gave the signal and Soldat tapped his comm with a muttered, “objective secured,” and Victor didn’t question the odd echo because they had far more pressing matters at hand.

Such as the sight of his oldest friend in a prison jumpsuit, face slightly gaunt and glasses cracked and just like that, Victor found himself regretting telling Soldat about Cabal’s usual ‘no-kill, minimal collateral damage’ MO.

But. 

They were on a time crunch, shift change was coming up and it took everything Victor had to stick to The Plan. 

One flash-bang later, and Soldat did his part beautifully, a whirlwind of chaos and Justin’d helped him and Winter plan out theoretical combination attacks well enough to know to duck to the side and with that, the most vital part of this entire operation was secured.

.

“Victor? I’m assuming it’s you.” Justin blinked the stars out of his eyes even as a familiar hand reached over to help him up, and he took it gratefully. “Good to see you too, Winter—”

“It’s Soldat,” the man corrected gruffly even as he ushered him along, and Justin blinked. 

“Oh, my apologies. Thank you, Soldat.”

“Introductions later, we’re on a time crunch,” Victor cut in, voice unusually flat and the last time Justin had seen him this angry had been during that HYDRA mess— what was going on? 

Seeing his concern, Victor’s expression lightened for a moment and he gave him a quick smile. “Catch you up later, but we really need to go.”

.

Victor stared.

He couldn’t help it— just. 

At his side, his Justin looked at the rest of their allies with concern, even as his counterpart started to pale and hyperventilate and how was this his life?

[night-fallz]

It's getting better . . . right?

A small dive into how Damian’s life at school is.

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

Ao3 // Wattpad

previous II next

I'm confused (Part 2)

As Damian stepped onto the school grounds, he couldn’t help but feel a small amount of relief.

It was like school was the only place where nothing changed. Everyone treated him the same way they’ve always treated him before.

Even though Damian chose to listen to his heart, he still struggled to accept the fact that people cared for him.

The school was the only place of normalcy he had left.

Suddenly, Damian felt someone push him against a brick wall, driving him down on his knees.

He embraced the pain that he was feeling.

You wanted this.

You deserve this.

His face was forced upwards, causing his eyes to meet his tormentors.

Damian immediately noticed the face of the guy who pushed him.

Max Thornwell.

The guy was Damian’s age, 15 years old, yet he towered over Damian with a few inches.

The guy was adequate-looking. There was nothing special about him, blonde hair, brown eyes, and lean-ish build. But, the guy walked with the confidence of Superman. Like he ruled the school and no one could take the throne away from him.

Damian hated him but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to make the situation worse.

If he did, he would get in trouble again. And his father would send him the disappointed look that made Damian feel worthless. Then someone would make a comment about how he isn’t fit to be Robin anymore.

Damian needed to be Robin.

The feeling of freedom he felt when he put on the costume made him smile with glee.

If Damian believed in Greek mythology, Robin would be the string of his life. Take Robin away from him and he would be gone. Like a turtle retreating in his shell.

Without Robin, Damian would be a nobody with a family of somebodies.

He would be the shadow that no one notices. The one that everyone forgets. They would only realize he was there when they needed something. Or when they had a comment to make that’ll chip away the small amount of confidence he had left.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Wayne.” Max’s voice snarled, “Don’t tell me that you’re a pussy as well.” A cruel smirk settled in the blonde’s face as he heard the laughter of his peers echoing around him.

He kicked Damian in the stomach, causing the boy to wheeze in pain in front of the unexpected attack.

The laughter only got louder.

Tears began to form in his eyes but he refused to let them fall.

He would not cry in front of them.

Max leaned in, whispering in Damian’s ear so only he could hear what the boy was saying. “Don’t you think it’s sad that no one is defending you? Never forget the fact that no one likes you. The fact that one loves you.” he roughly shoved Damian’s shoulder, “Remember your place.”

Damian gritted his teeth. His body ached all over and it was like the headache he got a week ago came back.

He forced himself to reach for his backpack, only for someone to grab it right before his hand could even touch it.

His green eyes met cold blue ones.

Michelle Chuxtre.

Damian didn’t know much about her. But he heard many people comment about how “hot” or how “fine” she is. He guessed that she was one of those popular kids, meaning that she was probably there to have her fun at tormenting Damian.

As Damian stared at her, he understood how people could call her pretty. Her features would fit the beauty standard— blue eyes, dirty blonde hair, and a slim figure- but the mocking smirk she wore on her face made Damian feel uneasy.

It didn’t help that her eyes seemed to glint maliciously as she studied him.

She quickly glanced at the dirty backpack she was holding and her smirk only grew wider. “What are you hiding here?” she sarcastically asked, unzipping his backpack.

Damian winced, seeing all of his supplies fall on the ground.

She looked pleased with his reaction, stepping towards him, her shoe landing on one of his notebooks. “You understand why I had to do that right?” her voice was sympathetic as if she was actually sorry for her actions. “I just had to make sure you weren’t going to bomb the school or anything.”

Damian understood the implications of her sentence. She made it obvious enough so that the people around him understood it too.

Once Michelle left, the people around him soon followed. Their entertainment was done for the morning.

Even though Damian admitted that he was relieved at the fact that everything at school stayed the same, he couldn’t help but want to let a few tears fall.

You wanted this, he reminded himself, this is your fault.

As Damian struggled to get up, he noticed someone holding their hand out to him. He studied that hand for a few seconds before realizing that she wanted to help him up.

It’s probably a trick, his head supplied, she’ll probably push you back down.

Damian assumed that his head was right, so he accepted her hand wanting to get everything over with so that he could get to his classes. The girl pulled him up, kneeling and picking up the dropped objects from the ground.

He looked at her with confusion, “What are you doing?”

“Helping you.”

His voice faltered, “But why?”

She froze and turned to him.

It was the first time that Damian saw her face properly. She was new. The girl was no doubt Filipino. She had the trademark dark brown hair that glowed in the sun. Though, he could see that she had blonde highlights as well. Her eyes were the same as her hair. At first glance, you would believe that they were black yet in the sun, they were a beautiful golden color. She also had the same tone of skin as him.

Judging by the uniform she was wearing, she was going to be attending school with him. Meaning that they would be the only two people that weren’t white in the building.

“Because you needed help.” the girl firmly said. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he winced in pain as he tried to walk, “I’m used to it.”

I asked for it.

“That’s not something you should get used to,” she firmly said, handing him the dirty backpack.

“Thank you.” He muttered softly.

“You’re welcome.” The dark-haired girl gave him a bright smile, “I’m Auda. Auda Arison.”

He returned it with a hesitant smile, “I’m Damian.” he repeated her gesture. “Damian Wayne.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Damian.” she looked around, realizing that there wasn’t another person in sight. “Since there’s no one else here, can you show me where the office is?”

Damian only nodded, walking forward as he gestured for the Filipino to follow him.

As they walked in, eyes seemed to follow them. Damian ignored them, used to people watching and silently critiquing his every move.

His eyes glanced at the girl walking beside him and she seemed deep in thought. She probably wasn’t aware of the eyes watching her.

They walked to the office in comfortable silence.

“Thank you”. she said when they arrived at the front.

“You’re welcome.” With those final words, he walked away, not bothering to give the girl a second glance.

—

Lunch was Damian’s least favorite part of the school day. He had no friends, so he had no one to sit with

And there was always a chance that someone would accidentally spill their food and beverage over him.

Damian wondered how his family would react if they found out what the kids in the school were doing.

Would they care?

Damian likes to think so.

But, his brain told him, they probably don’t.

Why can’t you just shut up for once? His heart complained.

Because you guys are acting stupid. It insisted. They don’t care. And they don’t!

Yes, they do!

No, they don’t.

Yes, they do!

No-

Yes!

His brain sighed, They only act as they care. It’s probably another scheme for them to humiliate and hurt you.

You’re wrong. His heart argued.

I hope so. His head resigned, I really do.

Damian’s back slumped against the wall, unable to focus on the book he was reading.

Did he make the wrong choice when he gave his brothers a chance?

Hopefully not.

He liked hanging out with them. He liked how they included him in things. And he liked how they don’t only talk to each other, so he could get insulted.

Damian felt someone grab the book from his hand.

What the-

Laughter echoed around the room as he felt water drip into his shirt. He shot up from his chair, trying to figure out what just happened.

His eyes analyzed the room. The librarian was gone and a crowd of 6 people was crowding him.

He notices that Max was holding his book, flipping through the pages before throwing it to one of his friends.

“Are you planning on bombing the school or something?” Max taunted him.

Damian rolled his eyes, “No. That book was just in Arabic” he couldn’t help but spit it out.

Max only smirked, “So the little terrorist finally started to talk.”

Damian tried not to flinch.

No fights. He reminded himself. Father will take Robin away.

Damian took a step back, hoping that Max would see it as him giving up.

It worked.

The boy’s face stretched into a victorious grin. “For a Wayne, you sure are pathetic.”

Someone held Damian’s arms so that he couldn’t run as Max walked slowly forward.

Like a predator stalking his prey.

Damian didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t just break away from his peer’s grip. But if he stayed, he would be left at Max’s mercy.

He scared Damian in a way that no villain ever could.

When Damian fought a criminal, he usually knew what the outcome would be. He would either live or he would die.

And he was fine with that.

But socializing?

It wasn’t his territory.

Damian was created to be a perfect clone of Batman. He was raised to be a warrior. He was raised to fight.

To kill.

Damian didn’t know how to interact with people properly. He only somewhat understands social cues when it comes to manipulation. But when he opens his mouth, he would have no filter.

And why should he?

That’s how he was raised.

And he was trying so hard to change.

In galas, he could put on the act that people wanted to see.

He would be Damian Wayne, the adorable, intelligent, charming, heartthrob son of Bruce Wayne.

He would play it nice, entertain the ones older than him with his vibrant eyes and appealing smiles. Ignoring how they seemed to eye his skin with distaste.

He would pretend that he didn’t hear whispers of how he would be the perfect Wayne if it wasn’t for his skin color.

He would pretend that it didn’t hurt because they didn’t say it right to his face.

But at school?

People didn’t try to hide what they thought of it.

They acted like everything they did to him was justified.

It didn’t help that Damian never tried to fit in with them. He distanced himself, speaking coldly to anyone that approached him.

The students began to dislike him pretty quickly. In their eyes, Damian should’ve felt lucky that they had even given him a chance.

In Damian’s eyes, they were racist. It wasn't that hard to tell. Everyone at the school was white— teachers, students, janitors— you name it. And from how they treated Damian on his first few days, they also had a white-savior mentality.

Growing up, Damian was taught the stereotypes people had regarding their race.

It wasn’t pretty.

Damian remembered staying up late in the small space he called home, wondering how people could assume such horrible things towards a group of people because of another man’s crime.

It wasn’t fair.

But even at his young age, Damian knew that nothing in life was fair.

And he accepted that.

So Damian stayed, pretending that he couldn’t break out of his peer’s grip. Max’s brown eyes met him maliciously.

He held his hand out and someone handed him Damian’s book.

“How much do you like this book?”

Damian refused to answer.

“Answer me, brat.”

“That book does not hold any value to me.” Damian spat out.

“I don’t believe you.”

Couldn’t he just get it over with?

Max glared at Damian, unsatisfied with his reaction. He threw the book on the ground as he stormed out, his goons quickly following.

Damian let out a sigh of relief as soon as they were out of sight. He picked up his book, inspecting it carefully.

He needed to make sure that the book was unharmed. It was the one thing that his mom had given him before she quickly tossed Damian away like trash.

Stupid. He scolded himself, you should’ve known better than to bring a prized possession to school.

The bell rang and he quickly hid the book in his backpack, not noticing how a girl pocketed her phone with narrowed eyes.

—

Damian would like to say that no one else bothered him for the rest of the day. But that would be a lie.

His lockers were filled with more sickening messages and everywhere he went, glares and whispers seemed to follow him.

He just wanted to go home.

He wanted to be Robin.

No, he needed to be Robin.

He just wanted to get away from the school.

He didn’t think that he bothered anyone today. All he did was defend himself against Max.

Was that so bad?

Everything we do seems to be bad. His heart couldn't help but whisper.

His brain didn’t argue.