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five-rivers · 4 months ago

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green is for envy, black is for trigger

A long BNHA oneshot!

So, they didn't realize at first what it meant when the teachers announced that Deku was going to UA. Hell, they didn't really get what it meant when it was just Bakugou that was going. Not that any of them, least of all Hideo, actually thought Bakugou would get in. The whole thing was a pipe dream. Only forty kids from the whole of Japan got into the hero course every year, and even if Bakugou was great at a lot of stuff, those were still long odds.

But Deku?

Deku, who had to have how his own name could be pronounced literally spelled out for him? Who broke down into tears whenever someone made a joke? That noodle-armed wimp with a death wish? Useless, quirkless Deku?

Not a goddamn chance. Not even with a miracle.

But Deku did get decent grades. Not as good as Bakugou, but the fact that a genetic throwback got passing grades at all was kind of freakish on its own. Shinozaki used to joke that it was because he was having special ‘tutoring sessions’ with the teachers, but both the teachers and Bakugou were so uptight about stuff like that. It was a joke. A kind of creepy joke, and Hideo was sort of glad when Shinozaki knocked it off, but still.

Anyway, inasmuch as Hideo thought about it at all, he assumed Deku got into one of the other courses. Although he only really knew about those because of the sports festival and Bakugou nerding out. Support and business or something like that. They probably only took Deku because they needed to meet some kind of pity quota. Hideo's dad was always talking about stuff like that at dinner. Mostly about mutant quirks, but Hideo figured it applied to deals like Deku, too.

But life went on, and no matter how ticked off Bakugou was about his glory being snatched or whatever, everyone else had entrance exams too. There would be time to complain about it later, or not. Hideo kinda figured Bakugou would eventually appreciate the stress relief beating up Deku would bring even through high school. He'd heard the hero course was tough. He certainly took advantage of it now. Enough that Hideo felt sort of bad about it, now and again.

The swan dive dare had been a little messed up. Sure, quirkless people usually killed themselves eventually, but let them do it at their own pace.

Hideo sort of envisioned him, Bakugou, Shinozaki, and Kanemaru hanging out together on weekends, dragging along whatever new friends they'd managed to make at their new schools. It'd be fun, hearing about Bakugou's glamorous life as a hero student, and Kanemaru's adventures at the local rich kid school.

What happened was Kanemaru drifting away, and Bakugou dropping all three of them like a hot potato.

It was– Well, for the first few weeks, he'd been mad. They hadn't been best friends or any sappy crap like that, but it was annoying to realize you'd been tolerated rather than appreciated. But then he'd heard that UA had been attacked, he'd gotten some new friends, and Kanemaru started hanging out again when he figured out all the cigarette hookups at his fancy school were trash.

And he was sort of looking forward to seeing people try to beat Bakugou up on national television.

So there was that.

But what he'd seen instead–

There was no way. There was just no way.

But there it was, on national television.

Deku.

Useless, quirkless Deku. In the sports festival. In the third event.

With a quirk.

It had to be some kind of trick. That's what he thought at first. But it'd have to be one hell of a trick to fake a whole quirk like thag out of nowhere, and there was no way Deku was that smart.

Maybe he'd been replaced or something. Hideo had heard of people with body snatching quirks. But, then, that'd be two quirks, and whatever urban legends said, Hideo wasn't dumb enough to believe in the quirk boogieman.

Could he have been faking being quirkless? The very thought made Hideo nauseous. No. No way. Not a chance. No one with power would tolerate that.

There had to be another explanation.

His phone was buzzing. The group chat was going wild.

He scanned through the messages. Shinozaki was disgusting, but he had good ideas, sometimes, and Kanemaru got rumors from his rich kid friends that took much longer to reach Gungan High, and their other friends were more of the same, but maybe one of them could see what Hideo himself was missing.

His eyes stopped on one of Shinozaki's texts.

i bet its trigger

where would deku eve get trigger, Hideo typed.

idk but its not like you can but a quirk on the street

Theres a guy in my class whose quirk makez every1 atoung him sing in tune, wrote Kanemaru, maybe its like that

with strength like tgat? r u serious rn noone like that ia gonna work for a quirkless deku unless he has more money than god its trigger ffs

But whered he get it?? asked Hideo. And would it even worj on a omeone Quiklessm?m

u cab get trigger cheap if yu know where to look

And how the hell did Shinozaki know that? He and Hideo weren't exactly squeaky clean, with the cigarettes and all, but trigger was something else. Like heroin was before the dawn of quirks.

deku prolly just has some bs weak asf quirk that hes juicing

That nauseous feeling came back, and this time, Hideo was able to identify the emotion fueling it as mostly anger. Red, hot, roiling anger.

It wasn't enough that Deku stole a spot at UA from someone who'd live past twenty, but he'd taken a hero spot? And he'd done it with drugs like the cheater he was?

If Hideo had been allowed to take trigger during his entrance exams, he'd have gotten into a hero school, too! Hell, maybe even UA, if Deku could do it. Hideo, after all, had a quirk that could be used even without trigger!

weve dot tobdon somethin

*got to do

It only took a minute for Shinozaki to reply lik what??

idk tellthe police if it's a druf thing right? Or just tell ua

He flicked away from the chat and, hands still shaking with rage, started looking up how to file a police report.

“And you think your former classmate is using trigger because…?”

“Because he didn't have a quirk like that before!” said Hideo, frustrated. No one was listening to them.

“UA's got a pretty great training program,” said the police officer at the desk, a bored-looking woman with fish scales around her eyes and ears. She reached over to a small spray bottle and spritzed herself. “Pick any one of those hero kids and you'll probably hear the same thing.”

“You don't get it,” said Hideo. “We all thought he was quirkless.”

“Well, clearly not,” said the woman.

“Yeah, but don't you think that's a little suspicious, that he never used his quirk at all before, and now he comes out with that?”

“Yeah,” said Kanemaru, who was ridiculously intimidated by the police station for a rich guy. Shinozaki hadn't even come, claiming he was too high to be anywhere near a police station. “What he said. Deku never used his quirk at school or anything.”

The woman raised a scaly eyebrow. “Did it occur to you that your classmate was simply following the law against public quirk use? Or that he didn't want to use a quirk that broke his bones. Quirk counselor probably told him not to use it.”

“He never went to the quirk counselor at our school.”

“You know private counselors are a thing right? I'd be seeing a specialist for a quirk like that.” She leaned back in her chair and looked up at them. “Do you really think a school full of heroes wouldn't notice something like that? Save yourselves some stress and go home.”

“But–”

“Seriously. Go home.”

“Any luck?” asked Shinozaki, whose eyes were indeed bloodshot.

“No,” said Hideo.

“And we haven't heard back from the school, either,” said Kanemaru mournfully.

“Figures,” said Shinozaki. “The police suck.” He twirled a blunt between his fingers, then lengthened them to offer it to Hideo. “Want a hit.”

“No,” said Hideo, wrinkling his nose against the rancid smell.

“Yes,” said Kanemaru, snatching it. “God, that sucked. What do we do now?”

“I don't know,” said Hideo. “We've got to get some kind of proof, otherwise the police won't take us seriously.”

“We could follow him,” suggested Kanemaru.

“Hell, no,” said Shinozaki. “You remember what chasing him was like in middle school.”

“We caught him whenever we wanted to,” said Kanemaru.

“Hell, yeah, we did. But he always knew when we were following him, and if he's pulling this off, he's not using where anyone can see.”

“What then?” demanded Hideo, frustrated. “Break into his house? Find his stash?”

Shinozaki snorted. “When his mom works from home? Putting Deku in jail isn't much good if we're there, too.”

“How the hell do you know Deku's mom works from home?” asked Hideo.

“Unlike you, I listened to Bakugou's ranting. She's a programmer or something dumb like that.”

Kanemaru perked up. “Maybe we could ask Bakugou!”

“After he ditched us? If he hasn't done anything yet, he's not gonna. Give me back my weed already, Kanemaru.”

Reluctantly, Kanemaru returned the blunt.

“There is one way, though,” said Shinozaki as he took another hit. “It'd be real risky, though, and it'd cost ya.”

“Yeah?” asked Hideo. “What's that?”

“Well,” said Shinozaki, “someone with a habit has a different reaction to someone taking trigger for the first time. We get that on camera, and it's all over for him.”

“I thought we couldn't follow him,” said Kanemaru.

“I'm not talking about following him, moron. I'm talking about an ambush. The freak still has to go home sometime, doesn't he?”

“Wait,” said Hideo. “You want us to, what, pin down someone high on trigger, shoot him up with even more, and then just stand around filming him? Who's the moron here, exactly? Where would we even get trigger? It's not like weed or tobacco. We can't bribe a college student to go into a trigger dispensary.”

“The trigger's the easy part,” said Shinozaki. “So long as Kanemaru can cough up the money. I know a guy.”

“I'm not fighting a guy on trigger!” said Kanemaru, shaking his head. “That's worse than roids! And he's got to be doing those, too, right? And he's got combat training or whatever, right?”

“Freaking chill already. Quirk or not, it's still crybaby Deku. No one's asking you to fight him, anyway. What’re you going to do? Pop out your eyes at him?”

“It's not like your quirk is much better,” said Hideo, trying to channel the police officer's cool skepticism. “I'm not fighting anyone alone.” According to his dad, that was the height of stupidity. You always brought backup.

“How is it that I'm the highest one here and the only one that can think? We aren't fighting anyone.”

“You know someone who takes hits or something, too?”

“No, idiot. I'm talking about your after school book club. How'd you think they'll react to someone who's basically quirkless putting one over on people with natural talent?”

Hideo's spine had gone as stiff as a board. “How the hell do you know about that?” Even his parents didn't know about that! Not that his parents knew anything.

“I listen, duh. To spell it all out, my proposal is that moneybags here gives me cash to get the trigger, then our literature lover can get his meta friends riled up and ready to do the delivery, and we stand well clear with cameras rolling.”

“I don't know…” said Hideo. He was totally behind liberation philosophy, people should be allowed to use their quirks to their fullest extent, but he was pretty sure that the people most likely to help with this kind of thing were the radical hierarchists, and they skeeved Hideo out.

“You never know anything,” complained Shinozaki. “And you say that I'm not civic-minded. Whatever. Something awful's going to happen, and neandertoe there will be right in the middle of it and you'll come crawling back to me and my plan.”

Hosu was burning.

Hosu was burning, and Stain had almost killed another hero.

Hosu was burning, Stain had almost killed another hero, and right in the middle of Stain's insane motive rant video was Deku.

Hideo picked up his phone and called Shinozaki.

Izuku wasn't so far removed from who he'd been in junior high that he couldn't tell when he was being followed. However, unlike when he'd been in junior high, there was more than one reason to follow him. In junior high, the only people that followed him were bullies, teenaged and otherwise, looking for a soft target.

But now? It could be anything from sports festival enthusiasts to the police (he had just broken a bunch of quirk use laws) to one of the villains he'd whirlpooled at the USJ, out for revenge.

The only people he was sure weren't following him were Kacchan and All Might. Kacchan, because stealth was one of the few things he was definitively bad at, and All Might, because being stalked by the number one hero had a very distinctive feeling, and this wasn't it. Besides, the figures he saw ducking out of his line of sight didn't have All Might's proportions, and he was almost a hundred percent sure that All Might only came in two shapes.

But they hadn't done any units on stealth or counterespionage in class, yet, so all Izuku had to draw on in terms of solution to his problems were his hit-and-miss strategies from junior high. He couldn't even call for help, because the fight with Stain had trashed his phone. He was hoping he could convince his mom to replace it with a mid-range hero model, but he hadn't quite managed yet.

So, his plan was as follows:

Play dumb as long as possible. If he started running, so would they. The closer he got to home before they closed in, the better.

Keep an eye out for patrolling heroes, policemen, or even convenience stores with sufficiently intimidating cashiers. He didn't think there were any suitable ones at the moment. The conbini closest to Izuku's house was staffed by a jerk who always tried to steal Izuku's change from now until midnight, but he might still come across one.

In case of being cut off, don't run randomly if there's another choice. Running randomly let the pursuers pick the route. Izuku knew paths, shortcuts, and hazards only people familiar with the area would know. He should take advantage of that.

Get home and call for help. Failing that, get to Kacchan's. If it was just bullies, they'd give up. If it was a more sinister group…

An unusually large group of older teens turned onto the road in front of Izuku, all wearing hoodies and oversized medical masks. Izuku promptly turned off the road, jogging through an alley and briskly striding onward.

If he wasn't already in trouble over the fight with Stain, he might have decided to use Full Cowl to jump his way home… except, what would he do if he accidentally ran into a person and hurt them, or broke someone's windows or something like that?

Maybe, if he went to the park, then cut through the thrift store in that one basement… No, if there were as many people following him as he thought, they'd be able to cover all the exits, even there. On the other hand, if the nicer person was at the counter, he might let Izuku use his phone.

He wished there was somewhere he could just hide until the people following him gave up, some building or business he could duck into, but that would require people who were actually willing to intervene in a beating, and most of the people around here… weren't. Some of them would call the police or hero hotline, but (with a few notable exceptions, none of whom lived or worked in Musutafu or its suburbs) even the best heroes couldn't just appear as soon as they were called. That's why they patrolled.

Speaking of patrols, finding one of those would also be good. But Izuku's mental timetable put the nearest one a mile east, if Kamui Woods was his usual amount late and not extra late, which was also possible. Kamui Woods was pretty popular, so he got stopped by fans regularly. He didn't usually come this way, anyway. The main villain hotspot in the area was the train station.

Mount Lady sometimes did surprise patrols, to boost her image, but Izuku hadn't figured out the pattern of those yet, if there was one, and he didn't have his phone to check if she was doing one today.

Although, if he had his phone, he could just call… Who would he call? Not his mom, most people who were okay with beating Izuku up wouldn't hesitate to beat uo his mom, too. Kacchan was still at his internship for another day, and wouldn't have picked up the phone for Izuku, anyway. He wasn’t sure where most of his other classmates lived. All Might would come get him if he called, and All Might wasn't busy as All Might - he had a car - but Izuku really didn't want to bother him. Calling the police, well, they wouldn't do anything unless he was actively getting beaten up, which looped right back around to the time thing.

Izuku had always thought it was remarkable, how fast you could get the crap kicked out of you if enough feet were willing to do the kicking.

At this point, Izuku had counted six sets of willing feet. Or two, if they both had shapeshifting quirks. He shouldn't rule something like that out.

But he had the sinking feeling that there were more than two. Or six, for that matter. A lot more.

He cut through the ground floor of an apartment building, ignoring how the doorman swore at him. He went out the service entrance. He wasn't too far from home, now.

But before he'd gone another street, he'd picked up another tail. Or regained one. He wasn’t sure.

Whoever or whatever was behind this was much more organized than the bullies and muggers who went after him in high school. He was- well, he'd already been scared, but now he was concerned, too, and that was a different kind of emotion entirely. Sort of. Probably.

When he got home, he'd call All Might. All of the really bad organizations who'd want to target Izuku would be connected to All Might anyway.

After this next corner, he just had to go one more block, and then–

Oh.

Somehow, Izuku hadn’t considered that the people following him might already know where he lived, and be waiting there.

He hesitated for only a minute as his brain registered a group too large for him to take on even with One for All.

There wasn't anyone for him to protect here but himself.

He ran.

New plan: Evade capture. Acquire a phone. Call the emergency line. Use One for All only if he was backed into a corner; he didn't think the police would be amused by a second quirk use incident less than a week after the first.

Hands reached out towards him. He ducked away from several, and almost ran into another, tipped with sharp claws. They raked over his arm, barely avoiding drawing blood. The owner of the hand laughed, and another person kicked at Izuku's ankles.

Izuku jumped over the feet, and he flipped the next person who tried to grab him. He could hear the crowd - and it was a big enough group to call it a crowd - jeering and calling out to him. It was nothing really identifying, unfortunately. They were calling him Deku, quirkless, and a fake, but the groups of people who would know to call him those things included both former classmates and incredibly serious villains.

The sidewalk underneath Izuku's feet crumbled, and his heart leapt into his throat - Shigaraki? No. Both the pattern of destruction and its products were different. Shigaraki powdered things. The concrete here was still in recognizable chunks.

He caught himself with his other foot, adjusted for the new terrain, and kept running. A volley of dark beams forced him to swerve and duck and turn onto another street. He thought there was a conbini up ahead– no, that was the next street down, but that apartment building left its ground floor open–

The broken concrete under his feet started to twitch and levitate. He changed direction again, now running on the street itself. There were hardly any cars here, even on a normal day. Today, the streets were dead, otherwise he'd try waving one down. How had they managed that? Bribery? Stolen construction and detour signs? He used his backpack to shield himself when the levitating chunks of concrete pelted him, then dropped it as he was strafed by a spurt of fire.

He hissed as he patted out his sleeves, then reflexively punched the next masked face that appeared in his vision. His muscles and tendons in that arm pulsed with pain, still not entirely recovered from their ordeals in both the sports festival and the fight with Stain. He switched tactics for the next person who tried to grab him, sweeping their feet.

There were some really cool quirks on display here, but they all felt rather… unpolished. Unpracticed. It kind of pointed away from these people being career villains. But then, so did their ages. Some of these people were adults, but not many.

That didn't mean they weren't working for worse villains.

A pop of compressed air went off to his left, and a pair of wires went shooting after him. They had tasers, too?

Something slammed into the ground around him, creating deep circular indentations. Telekinesis? An invisible giant? No, gravity manipulation. Izuku stumbled and was forced to use One for All just to get back up, and then he was hit over the back of the head with something.

He lashed out, caught flesh, and struggled away from the grip. But he'd lost what little lead he'd had on the main body of the pack. They were circling, now, cutting off escape routes. Could he use One for All and Full Cowling to get up on a roof? Not without fighting people with wall-crawling quirks. Still, that was fewer people than he was dealing with now. He tensed, getting ready to jump, and was suddenly hit with extreme vertigo, intense enough to drop him to his knees.

When it passed, he looked up to see a foot coming towards his face. He wasn't able to dodge.

The only good thing about the next few minutes was that One for All kept them from pinning him. He was hit with dozens of quirks and dozens of feet. He pushed them off, but he didn't have a good idea of how much of One for All was too much for a person to handle without serious injury.

But then someone - someone with at least a mild strength quirk - got hold of his right arm and twisted.

The world went wobbly, and the next thing Izuku knew, he was on the ground, restrained by a truly painful submission hold and multiple quirks, including the vertigo and gravity quirks.

“Come on, bring it over!” The movement in the crowd became more purposeful.

Left hand, pinky finger. Letting it heal naturally if Recovery Girl wouldn't help would suck, but not as much as letting these people do what they wanted to him, he was sure. He flicked his finger and the wind pressure pushed back the nearest members of the crowd, sending them toppling into one another. Izuku staggered to his feet, still dizzy. Up was the only way out, but he wasn't sure he could aim–

Something sharp sunk into his right bicep, and he punched the person holding it. Which, ow, his pinky.

He pulled the sharp thing out of his arm, which wasn't the best first aid decision he could have made but he was still learning. A hypodermic needle?

A minute later, the needle fell from Izuku's nerveless fingers. It didn't fall far. When had he fallen down again?

There was a burning sensation spreading down his arm and across his shoulders. It started as a surface-level itch, but then it went more and deeper, and–

Izuku had thought he knew pain. Shattering three of his four limbs in one go at the entrance exam, breaking his legs at the USJ, repeatedly breaking his fingers at the sports festival– He hadn’t done those things for fun. He thought he knew burning, too, from ten years as Kacchan's punching bag.

This was different. This wasn't just his skin burning, melting, his blood was on fire, his bones. He was cracking open with every beat of his too-fast heart, something terrible trying to get out.

This was agony, all the way down to his soul.

Hideo was feeling pretty good about things, actually. Elated, almost, like on a good roller coaster ride. Yeah, there were risks, but this was kind of like hero work, wasn't it? Giving the bad guy a beatdown and exposing him for the whole world to see.

As soon as they got the needle in him, everyone stepped off, giving Deku room for his freak out and Hideo and the others a clear shot at the action with their phones.

“Crap,” said Shinozaki. “Crap, crap, crap.”

“What?” asked Hideo, distracted by how Deku was writhing on the ground. It almost looked like he was fighting himself. Freak.

“It's not like I got him the good stuff that goes down smooth, but that's not– If he's a user, he shouldn't– That's not what he should be acting like!”

Hideo's good mood vanished fast. “Wait, you mean he wasn't on trigger…?”

“It's fine, it's fine, we just can't post this anywhere, we've got to stay quiet, it's not like he'll be able to identify us– We didn't touch him.”

But that wasn't the imminent problem, was it, if Deku had a quirk like that? If he had a quirk like that, and they'd just given him a shot of trigger? A quirk booster?

“Uh, um, guys?” said Kanemaru. “When you say don't post it…”

“Yeah,” said Shinozaki, backing away, “I mean don't post it anywhere, forget that it happened. Never speak of it again. All that good stuff.”

“But I, um, I sort of… livestreaming. I'm livestreaming.”

“You idiot–”

“Hey! Hey! Get away from my friend, you creeps!”

Ochako flopped down on her bed, doing her best impression of bonelessness. Her internship with Gunhead had gone great, but she was so frickin’ tired. She was glad it ended half a day before everyone else's - except for those guys who got caught up in Hosu, she guessed. Iida was still in the hospital, but apparently Deku had gone home last night.

She sighed. She'd text him, but he'd emailed everyone saying his phone broke, so that was out. So… she'd probably just scroll through the internet… it was a peanut butter and crackers for dinner sort of night…

Her phone rang. She frowned at the number, but answered.

“Uraraka! Dieu merci, I was not sure you would answer!”

Ochako sat up. “Aoyama? What's wrong?”

“It is Midoriya! I have found this, this livestream, of a bunch of gangsters chasing him through the streets. And I call the police, but they do not get there so fast, and all our classmates, they are on their internships, and he must be near home–”

“Send me the link,” said Ochako, slamming her feet into her shoes and grabbing the can of pepper spray her mom had gotten her when she first started to live alone. “Jiro and Mineta should still be in town, too, they got internships with local heroes.” Who else was still around? Ochako knew about Jiro, because she'd considered interning with Death Arms, too, and she remembered where Mineta was going, because he'd been gross about it, but there had to be others still around. “You call them, okay?”

“Oui, Uraraka, I am sorry I cannot help more–”

“It's fine, it's fine,” said Ochako, jogging down the stairs outside her apartment. She didn't remember where Aoyama was having his internship. “The police, they're sending a hero, right?”

“I do not know. They did not say, only that it would take time, that they have to confirm, that they do not know where this is, this video.”

She reached the bottom of the stairs. “Okay, okay, I've got to go now, but you'll send the link to the video?”

“Oui, it is sent. Be careful, Uraraka.”

“I will. Bye.”

She hung up, then, and quickly navigated to the link Aoyama had sent her. She swallowed back the anger she felt when she saw masked and hooded adults grappling a clearly-injured Deku, and started scanning the video for landmarks and street signs. There had to be something.

She rewound slowly, slowly. The street signs were too small and blurry in the video, she couldn't read them.

Wait.

She scrolled forward. That apartment building had its name on the front in huge kana. She plugged the name into her maps app. It wasn't too far from here. If she ran–

She was moving before she finished the thought. She knew where it was, where Deku was.

What she'd do when she got there… she wasn't sure. There were at least thirty guys in the video. But people who did stuff like this were ultimately cowards. Sometimes, if they knew someone was watching them, if they knew someone saw what they were doing, they'd stop. That's how Ochako's parents stopped a yakuza beating, once. They'd just gone out with a broom, a baseball bat, and a phone connected to the police.

… there had been a lot fewer of them, too, though, if she remembered correctly.

It didn't matter. If she had to use her quirk, she'd use it. It'd be her first public quirk use citation, and if that meant she was suspended or expelled… it didn't matter. What kind of hero would she be, if she didn't do her best to help a friend?

She turned the last corner and saw the knot of villains. She couldn't see Izuku from here, but he was visible on the livestream clearly enough.

She dialed the emergency line. “I'm on Obi Street, near the Millenium Building,” she said, once the operator had answered. “There's a group of thirty villains beating up a student.”

“How do you know they're villains, ma'am?”

“They're using their quirks.”

“Understood, I'm sending your location to the nearest hero. Please find a place to shelter until they arrive. Do not approach the villains, and stay on the line.”

Normally, Ochako would have followed instructions. Honest. But the villains moved strangely, and it was Deku. He was basically her best friend, especially since Sakura back home stopped talking to her for stupid reasons.

“Hey! Hey! Get away from my friend, you creeps!”

“Ma'am--" said the operator, but Ochako wasn't interested.

Some of the villains turned towards her. Others, apparently, hadn't heard her.

“Who the hell're you?” demanded one of them, who was clearly used to using his mass to loom. Joke was on him. It didn't matter how much mass he had when she could use her quirk to negate it. “Some kind of pervert slut who gets off taking it from subhuman freaks?”

Ochako didn't know how to respond to that, so she didn't. “I have the police on the phone, so you'd better get lost!”

“Ma'am, please–”

“You think those fascist pigs scare us? We're part of the new revolution, the–”

The big man stumbled and looked back. The other villains jostled into each other, disorganized, and for the first time since looking at the livestream, Ochako saw Deku.

He looked terrible. Of course he looked terrible. He was being beaten by a small mob. He was bruised and bloodied and panting.

His tongue was black.

There was something else black, too. Something like a gnarled, black root, growing from Deku's tattered sleeve and wrapping around the villain's ankle.

“No,” said Deku, except it didn't sound very much like him at all.

A thick, opaque fog exploded into being. And then the screaming started.

Hands gathered Izuku up. Not gentle, exactly, but careful. Not hurting. They pulled him through the dark where lights flickered, uncertainly, like memories. He opened his eyes and saw their faces, glowing, like fires that refused to be extinguished. He knew them, but he didn't. They could have been his, but they weren’t.

“Ninth,” theh said, they whispered, they chanted. There was power, there, burning and immense, and behind that power was purpose, but it was distorted, warped and shredded around the edges.

This was not how this moment was supposed to go.

There should have been triumph. This should have been sacred. A sharing of memories, a meeting of minds, a point of convergence, of singularity.

How dare they?

How dare they–

–trap them - poison this - forget history - throw away this peace - hurt the boy - call them useless - touch Toshi's child - young Midoriya - say those things to Uraraka?

Uraraka was here?

Hush.

Or–

Listen.

Feel this. Every strength they ever had. Every memory that could aid their task. Every skill, every scrap of knowledge, every quirk, every second of every year spent running-hiding-fighting. All of it, brought together and finally expressed.

They knew about trigger. They had seen it, in all its gruesome forms. Its purpose was to strengthen quirks, but the side effects - bodies twisted, quirks out of control, brains working at a fraction of their normal capacity.

One for All was a quirk. A strange quirk, a difficult to understand quirk, but still a quirk, and everything within it was part of a quirk, and every thought they had happened in the brains of their Eighth and Ninth.

At the moment, they were insane. And they knew it. And they didn't care.

The purpose of One for All was to stop All for One, but that kind of specificity was a human foible, not something so easily encoded in the core of a quirk. The end to which it put itself was the very destruction of evil and the eternal rebirth of hope. Its favorite means was violence.

“What are you talking about?”

Izuku tilted his head to one side. Had he been talking? Mumbling? Muttering? He should probably work on that. But it didn't seem to matter so much when Blackwhip and Fifth were whispering to him the secrets of how to use rage to rip an enemy limb from limb, and Danger Sense hovered around him like a protective halo, Hikage watching his back.

They were so, so, angry that it had spilled back over into serenity, like an overflow error on a computer.

A fist came flying for him out of the swirling vapors of Smokescreen. As soon as it brushed his cheek, Gear Shift grudgingly reversed its momentum. Second did not approve of their current stronghold, but that did not mean he would permit an attack.

There was a snap, and then a scream, the man– no, the boy. He couldn't be more than a year out of high school, if that. The boy grasped at his broken wrist, howling.

Izuku hadn't even done anything. It was his own fault.

Smokescreen whispered of an attempted escape, and Blackwhip dragged her back. They weren't done with them yet.

He didn't want to kill them or anything. They just wanted to hurt them a little. Ten years of quirklessness… twice. And four lifetimes on the other side, running from people who thought meta powers were curses, or a symptom of a disease. It was the same kind of bigotry, just reversed.

There was just so much pain. It hurt so much. In his chest, in their head, in their hearts.

Maybe if these little monsters felt some of it, they wouldn't do it again. Maybe some of it would go away.

Hideo stumbled through fog bank after fog bank, and started to wonder if he should call his mom. He didn't always get on with his parents, but, if he was going to die…

There was a sort of scraping sound. Then, footsteps. They had to be close, close enough to touch. The heavy fog dampened sound eerily. Hideo froze, hardly daring to breathe.

“Stop it! Stay back! How are you still moving?”

“Your vertigo quirk has its weaknesses, although it's useful for combat otherwise. I'd ask you why you aren't trying to be a hero, but it's clear the problem is temperament. Or, well, your entire personality, to be quite honest.”

There was a thump, a cracking sound and a shriek.

“Stop! Stop! What do you want? I can– my family has money. Connections. We can get you anything you want! Just stop!”

“There is nothing we want more than you never doing anything like this again.”

The voice sounded like Deku's, but the cadence was all wrong. Deku was a meek, shivering, stuttering nerd, and Hideo would have sworn that he'd stay that way, no matter what drugs they gave him.

“I won't! I won't!”

“It's nice of you to offer, but the only way people like you stop is of they're forced to stop, or if they're made to regret what they've done. A lot. All the time.”

“No, no, please! No!”

There was an ugly cracking noise, and then a wet thump.

“Pathetic.”

Oh, god. Oh, god, what kind of quirk was this, even? There was no way Deku had a quirk like this all this time.

A horrible thought came to him then. What if it wasn't Deku? Body-snatching quirks were a thing. Hell, Bakugou had been targeted by one of those guys just last year. And Deku had no friends, basically no family. Who would notice when he started acting different? Other than them, apparently.

That was actually kind of sad. Hideo would probably have had more pity to spare for Deku, though, if he wasn't using it all on himself.

There hadn't been any sounds over there for a while, now. Maybe it was safe to move again?

“Hello, Hidaka Hideo,” said Deku's voice, right in his ear. “It's been a long time.”

Kyoka wasn't entirely sure what was going on. She had only been on the phone with Aoyama for a few confused seconds before the large-scale villain attack alarm went off, and what Death Arms said to her just after hadn't helped matters.

Midoriya? Taking trigger? That didn't make any sense at all. He was friends with Iida. Totally straightedge.

But apparently, he'd been given trigger. As in, drugged, by a gang trying to beat him up. Which, honestly, made even less sense. Giving trigger to a guy you were fighting with… It was like throwing a pair of brass knuckles to a guy you just hit, and daring them to do one better. It was stupid.

It was also on video, so Kyoka had to admit that some people were just that dumb, as unbelievable as that sounded.

Whatever the Mensa squad's original goal had been, the result was… this. A fat, billowing cloud that occasionally sprouted writhing black tentacles and faint but disturbing screams. She didn't know what kind of quirks could combine to make something like this, and she didn't care. She wasn't Midoriya. The villains must have gotten spooked by Midoriya's quirk or something. She just had to hope that they hadn't gotten spooked because Midoriya had broken all the bones in his body.

What had happened at the sports festival had been… hard to watch.

“Alright,” said Death Arms, “before we go in there, let's get some things down. Earphone Jack, this Midoriya is your classmate?”

“Yeah,” said Kyoka.

“He's not going to be himself, jumped up on trigger. Don't try to get near him, or any of these villains. He won't listen to reason, and I'll bet that these guys've been taking trigger, too, for a quirk effect like this. You're going to be flanked the whole time by these two,” he said, nodding towards a pair of sidekicks. “The only reason we're bringing you with us is because we need someone who can navigate in all that crap, not for fighting. Understood?”

Kyoka nodded. “Understood.”

“Everyone else, go for restraint over injury, where possible. We don't know if there are civilians other than Midoriya caught up in this.”

He spent another couple of seconds arranging the marching order, but then he finally gave them the order to move in.

Inside the cloud, the air was cool, and drier than Kyoka had expected. Not like fog, more like smoke. Somehow, the screaming she'd heard on the outside was quieter in here as well. Must be some quirk…

“Group of three, that way,” she said, pointing.

They took care of the villains quickly. They didn't seem much older than Kyoka, and their quirk control was much worse. They were tied up in class-C restraints in seconds.

“We're going to have to carry them back out,” said Death Arms with a grimace. “We can't just leave them here.”

“Oh, thank god,” said one of the villains. “You guys are actual heroes!”

“As opposed to what?” asked Death Arms, gruffly.

“The punk is probably talking about me.”

Kyoka jumped and turned. Whoever that was, they'd managed to sneak up on them while making no sound at all. Not even breathing.

The man was bald, wearing leather, and the same sort of rugged as Death Arms. He also sort of… faded into the smoky clouds around him, almost as if he were made of them. Even accounting for mutations, his smile was a bit too wide, his eyes a little too blank.

The black, lashing tentacles around him, however, looked very real, especially when they scraped along the already-battered asphalt near his cloudy feet.

“And who're you?” asked Death Arms, readying his fists.”

“They should have stayed away from our kid,” said the man without moving his mouth. Then, in Midoriya's voice, “It hurts! “

“Where-” started Death Arms, but the man was opening his mouth, wrist and wider. Too wide. Inside was a perfectly black hole.

A faint rushing noise was the only warning before a dozen of those black tentacles came pouring out of the man's mouth. They jostled and grabbed and wrapped around, and by the time Kyoka got her wits about her again, she and the rest of the heroes had been deposited outside the cloud.

Death Arms looked shaken. “I think we might need backup for this one.”

Ochako caught another glimpse of yellow gloves and a fluttering cape. It was a hero. It had to be, even if Ochako didn't recognize her. Now, if only Ochako could get her attention…

She pushed through another bank of smoke. The smoke was… weird. When it first appeared, it looked like it was coming from Deku, but that couldn't be right. He had a strength enhancement. Like All Might. But then, those black root things weren't a normal part of Deku's quirk, either.

Maybe it was like Tsuyu's quirk. She had a lot of different things she could do, and you normally wouldn't describe it as a jumping quirk instead of a frog mutation, but it did let her jump high. She just… wasn't sure why Deku would do that. Unless he didn't know?

Ugh, all these things could wait until later, when her friend wasn't in trouble.

“Miss Hero!” she tried again. “Please wait!”

And this time, to Ochako's surprise, she did.

She was tall - but not as tall as Ochako first thought. She was floating above the ground, and the way the smoke clung to her…

“It's yours, then, the smoke?” asked Ochako, a little out of breath.

“Not exactly,” she said, in a voice as thin as the smoke.

A partner, then? “The person they were beating up was my friend, do you know where he is? Is he safe?”

The hero inclined her head, and then dissolved, the smoke that made up her body tearing away from itself. The clouds behind her patted as well, revealing a large crater, and–

“Deku!”

She hopped down into the crater, avoiding broken electrical cables and gushing pipes.

Deku looked even worse than he had minutes ago. Red and green sparks danced over his body, and his skin was a ghostly gray. He was shaking, and clutching at the ground, raw fingertips digging deep grooves into the remaining concrete.

But before she could get to him, smoke swirled out of his body, and two more figures coalesced out of it. A slender white-haired man in a t-shirt and loose pants, and a shorter, younger man in a long, high-collared coat that reminded Ochako of Best Jeanist's costume.

“Wait a moment,” said the white-haired one.

“Why?” demanded Ochako. “Who are you people?”

“It's people like this that give my brother so much power,” said the man, which answered nothing. “They could use their abilities to help, but instead they act out of jealousy and envy.”

“Unless there's been a big change recently,” said the other man, “that dosage of Japanese trigger lasts for three minutes, maximum.”

Ochako looked down at her dead phone. How long had it been?

“Wait a moment,” repeated the white-haired man. “There is still justice to be done, there are still things to be made right.”

“I'm sure you're tough. Are you tougher than concrete?” asked the other man. “We don't remember that.”

“Wait a moment. I wish my brother were here, so I could pound his stupid face in.”

“We really, really don't.”

“Uh,” said Ochako. Were these guys, like, all there? “There are villains here who tried to hurt him, so–”

“Wait a moment,” said the white-haired man. He sounded frustrated. “Wait a moment. They are being discouraged.”

“Vehemently.”

“Wait a moment. He won't remember this. Tell him we will speak again.”

“We'll try, anyway.”

Ochako looked between the two of them. Maybe she could run by them… Were their bodies even solid?

Deku shuddered, and the force behind the movement sent more cracks through the concrete, deepened the crater. Ochako threw up her arm to protect her eyes from dust.

When she lowered her arms again, the figures of the two men were dissipating back into smoke, and the smoke itself was wisping away. Deku was lying still, now, eyes closed, breathing heavily. Ochako checked him carefully for quirk effects, but didn't see any, and approached.

“Deku?”

He didn't respond. According to the first aid course she'd taken to boost her chances of being accepted at UA, she shouldn't move him unless there was imminent danger, in case of broken bones or neck injuries. The pipes and wires… that situation would probably hold for a while longer. The villains…

She climbed back out of the crater and looked around. She could see both sides of the street, now, even if it was hazy. The glass in most of the nearby windows was broken. The street itself and the sidewalks were gravel. One streetlight had been knocked over.

And scattered all over were the prone forms of the villains. They didn't look like they were moving. Ochako stared at the nearest one, frightened, until she saw that they were still breathing. So she should stay with Deku until first responders got there. Hopefully, that would be soon.

Her phone chirped as it came back to life, whatever quirk effect keeping it inoperable disappearing with the smoke. She looked down at it, briefly. It was an older model, and usually took a minute or longer to turn back on all the way.

She scanned the street again, squinting to see through the thinning smoke, and, oh thank goodness. That was Death Arms, wasn't it? And Jiro! She waved frantically.

This whole thing had lasted only a few minutes, but it had felt like forever.

In other news, the large-scale disruption in residential Musutafu today occurred when a group of thirty-two villains chased down and injected a UA student with trigger. The villains were mostly high school and college students with otherwise clean records. According to Musutafu PD, the villains believed the student was somehow using trigger to fake having a quirk. A statement released by UA with the permission of the student's guardian not only refutes those claims, but includes select medical data from the student's most recent hospital visit, only days before. These records show no evidence of the student having ever taken any form of performance enhancing drug. The student was the only civilian injured in the event, and is recovering at an undisclosed location. The police are investigating the possibility of classifying the incident as a hate crime. Now, Ms. Long with the weather–

Izuku pried his eyes open blearily. His head was pounding, his bones ached, and his mouth tasted like he'd licked Dagobah Beach. Before he'd cleaned it up. Where was he and what was he doing there?

He blinked a few times. Actually, that ceiling looked familiar…

“Ah!” said Recovery Girl, who was suddenly in his field of vision. “You're awake.”

Before Izuku could ask what had happened, she was running through a cognitive test. Despite his confusion, he answered her questions as best he could, and she didn't seem disappointed, so he must have gotten a good grade. Was that something you could get on a cognitive test?

“What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?” she asked, finally.

“Uh, um,” said Izuku. “I used one of the gyms at the school… here, I mean… for physical therapy stuff. Then sat in on one of the support classes - that was really cool - then, um, the train… and I was walking home… Was I hit by a car?” he guessed.

Recovery Girl sighed. “You were attacked by villains and injected with trigger. Trigger heavily cut with other drugs, no less.”

“What?!” said Izuku trying to sit up. Recovery Girl pushed him back down.

“The villains were all captured. They won't be doing anything like that again.” She set a bowl of broth down on the table attached to Izuku's bed.

“But did I– What did I–?” Even if he didn't remember anything, trigger made people do all sorts of weird stuff. And One for All wasn't an ordinary quirk.

“Don’t worry about that,” said Recovery Girl. “You focus on recovering your stamina, so we can do something about all those microfractures you have.”

“I thought– I thought you said you wouldn't treat me anymore,” said Izuku, bewildered.

“I never–” Recovery Girl stopped, pressed her lips together. “What I meant to say, at the end of the sports festival, is that I won't be able to heal you with my quirk if you keep getting injuries like that. There's a limit to what can be healed, even with quirks, as you well know.”

Izuku thought back to All Might's wound, and shuddered. Which. Ow.

“If you can keep that down,” said Recovery Girl, nodding to the broth, “I'll see about letting some of your visitors in.”

“Like Mom? And, um, All Might?” guessed Izuku.

“Your mother is here already,” said Recovery Girl, nodding at the green-haired lump in the neighboring bed. “Just got her to take a nap herself, after she spent all night fretting. But, yes, All Might isn’t above using his position to get to the top of your visitor list. Although he isn't the only one on it. All your classmates called in from their internships, and I had to ban that girl from the support course. I won’t have untested support equipment around my patients, no matter what the medical applications are. Uraraka and Jiro from your class were also here earlier…”

Izuku listened as she bustled around the medical wing and continued to chatter about his visitors and well-wishers, and felt… warm. Later, he was sure there would be consequences beyond missing memories, sore muscles, and broken bones, but for now… it was nice to know he had people who cared. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of that.

With a shaky hand, he picked up the soup spoon and started on the broth.

“Mr. Hidaka,” said the lawyer, more to Hideo's father than Hideo, even if the lawyer was technically representing Hideo, “I'm afraid to say that the government's case is ironclad. Between the livestream video, the messages to the other defendants, being found at the scene of the crime, the evidence of quirk use… The best we can hope for is the young villain diversion program, but that's only possible if you plead guilty and implicate any other co-conspirators. Otherwise, you're old enough to be charged as an adult, and even if they don't do that, juvenile villain facilities aren't great places to be.”

“But Deku–” started Hideo.

“Hideo,” growled his father.

“I was attacked–”

“Hideo, shut up. You'll take the guilty plea and hope you get it in before any of rhe cretins you call friends. And if you say anything about this Midoriya boy again…”

Hideo swallowed and nodded. Goddamned Deku. How come he got everything good, and Hideo was in here? It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. Goddamned Deku.

But what was he supposed to do? He wasn't an actual villain. He just wanted things to be right.

“Fine,” he said. “I'll do it.”

“Great!” said the lawyer, gathering his papers. “I just have to talk to the prosecuter.”

Goddamn Deku. Why couldn't Hideo have his life?

#bnha #fic #my fic

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utilitycaster · 4 months ago

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I think another massive flaw in some Ludinus' arguments is ... he has been free to roam the world for how many centuries now enacting his plans and justifying his means? He has been preaching to people all over Exandria with his magic megaphone and swaying plenty of people to his cause, freely. Looks to me like the Divine Gate solution works pretty well, no?

TRULY like we know for a fact the gods can just. Cast a 9th level spell every turn when they are physically present even when bound partially by mortal form, and Ludinus knows this too. If the gods were actually controlling everyone's every move why didn't they kill him. Why didn't they destroy the Dwendalian throne for banning half the prime deities, or kill Delilah when she was off fucking around with trying to create a new Betrayer god. The story of Aeor being destroyed by the gods is on the historical record and has been for at least 7 years and they haven't shut it down. Why didn't Pelor just blast Abaddina to bits the second she started talking. Why does Lolth have to wait for a teenage girl to put a hat on before she can act through her. How come Keyleth is out there having been furious at the gods for 3 decades and none of them have taken her off the board. Ludinus keeps being like "we are FORCED to worship them" you literally aren't, Chetney's out here pushing 400 and he's like "I can barely keep the names of the gods straight and have not thought about them for more than 30 seconds at a time until joining Bells Hells", there's entire "godless lands" in parts of Issylra, countless people in Exandria simply aren't religious and truly, no one gives a shit on a large scale. Keyleth and Allura and Percy are all on good terms with Vasselheim; Bertrand was from the Quad Roads and I do not think he had the Lawbearer's blessing if you know what I mean. Ludinus is mad about the Calamity (valid) but he's ultimately just as mad that his mommy and daddy still worshiped the Arch Heart or the Moon Weaver or whoever instead of simmering in rage for the remainder of his life. He and frankly most of the Vanguard sound like that guy who became a violent men's rights activist because his mother made him take an anti-diarrheal when he was a kid.

#answered #Anonymous #i think the issue is that ashton's metaphor is ultimately incorrect bc the gods are not on a throne and don't act like mortal rulers #like. cassida was valid to be angry! but these ARE beings beyond comprehension to some extent and it's an act of hubris to simplify that #but also like. they are behind the gate. they can only work through mortals #and if they are aware that bells hells saw this the primes at least are probably gonna be like yeah that's fair that's what we did #cr spoilers

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macfrog · 6 months ago

Text

birds of a feather | joel & ellie

y'all listen to the new billie eilish album? there's a song that reminded me of a couple of someones.

pairing: joel miller & ellie williams summary: joel surprises ellie on her sixteenth birthday. warnings: nada. just me loving hard on this pair. word count: 1.5k

main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🤍

Oh, my god, it is a dinosaur.

She didn’t actually believe it would be. I mean, it was her first guess – but where the fuck is he going to find a dinosaur way the hell out here? She was kidding.

Wasn’t a convertible, wasn’t a puppy, wasn’t even a lotta kittens. A litter. Whatever. It wasn’t a new pair of sneakers, nor a comic book collection. She’d almost run out of ideas, when she spotted the tail through the bushes.

Is that–? Is he seeing this, too?

It’s, like, three times the size of her. No, wait – five times the size of her. Ten? She’s gotta ask Joel.

Two thick, stocky legs planted firm into the earth. Draped in ivy and spattered with moss – the thing actually looks prehistoric. Head lifted to the canopy; teeth bared in a silent roar. His little arms – alright, they’re actually kinda fuckin’ cute – frozen, reaching for something.

It’s right fucking there. Right in front of her. A motherfucking dinosaur.

Her hands fly to her head.

“Joel!” Ellie cries, and she can hardly feel her legs with giddiness.

Joel lingers a few steps behind her. He kicks a heel through the mucky grass, just watching. Smiling like an idiot, letting the ripples from the kid’s glee wash over him. It’s like the zoo all over again, or that time he found a Savage Starlight poster while out on patrol.

Ellie’s laughter is ticklish, vibrating through his veins. She pumps her fists and sizes up the monster. She says holy shit, Joel three times before she takes a step closer.

The sun trickles through the leaves, haloing over the Rex. It’s warm, but not too warm – and the swim on the way helped cool them down. It’s a bit of a hike to get here. He’s just glad it’s a nice day.

He was, truthfully, a little nervous about it. About bringing her here. He’s never had a sixteen-year-old to plan shit for. What if she didn’t like it? Hell, what if she thought it was fucking lame?

But Ellie wades waist-deep into the moat instantly. She pulls herself through the murky water straight to the plaque, and whips out her journal.

And Joel knows he’s fucking nailed it.

“King of the tyrant lizards,” she announces, making sure she gets the spelling right. Her tongue pokes from the corner of her mouth as she sketches.

Joel wanders over to her side, hand combing through the tangles of leaves drooping from the dinosaur’s belly. He swats fluttering flies away from his face.

The water sloshes around her feet as she rounds the tail. It’s slippery with slime. She crawls over threads and vines, soles scuffing up the spine.

“What are you doin’?” he asks, a chuckle patching over cracks of sudden fear.

“I’m climbing a dinosaur!” Ellie yells. She hesitates on the snout – though only for half a second, because fuck it, how many times am I going to jump off a motherfuckin’ dinosaur? – and then she’s plummeting.

Joel’s stomach flips. He staggers into the water, breath clamped in his throat until she resurfaces again.

She’s still wearing that dumb as shit smirk. It probably didn’t flinch, the entire fall. “Did you see that?” she gasps.

Jesus. Yeah, he saw it. He pulls a hand down his face.

It’s been a year, little less than. They’re used to it by now – the slow turn of life in Jackson. Breaking bread in the dinner hall, calling the woodland creatures by whichever ridiculous names Ellie christens them with.

It took a few weeks, but eventually, their heartrates settled. Their fists loosened. They relaxed into the quiet, found respite in the negative space.

Tommy joked for the first little while that Joel had a shadow he couldn’t shake. She’s five-three, red hair, and she carries a switchblade everywhere she goes. Following him close enough that she felt more like a phantom at his heels.

Joel never minded, and he still doesn’t. He’s long forgotten the feeling of being alone – as quickly as he acquired it, it seems. These days, he waits at his kitchen table for the kick of the backdoor, the slump of a still half-asleep teenager opposite him.

He wonders how he ever got by so long without it.

He leads Ellie into the museum.

Everything looks exactly how he left it. A jungle of a building; shattered glass and overgrown grass, a muggy smell lingering in every dim corner. The stuff he deliberately left for her to stumble upon when she got here: a Giants of the Past brochure, the stupid hat he knew she’d force him to wear.

A marshland wasteland, and she still sees the magic in every square inch.

She throws fact after fact at him. Fruit flies and moon landings, gunpowder and Yuri Gagarin. She knows a shit ton, if the stacks of books on her desk are anything to go by. And when Joel tells her how smart she is, Ellie smiles smugly to herself and thinks up ten more facts, just for him.

He thinks of her books and their awkwardly long titles, the faded pictures on all the covers. Astronauts and nebulas and faraway suns. He offers the one thing he remembers from school back at her: My very educated mother just served us nice pizzas.

She’s never even heard of it.

But she’s impressed, and she repeats it to herself as she explores some more. Turning back at every new artifact she finds, beckoning Joel over with a flapping hand.

He wanders after her, thinking up questions he’s sure he already knows the answers to – just so she can tell him again. Just to see her face light, to hear her ramble as she explains.

And nine times out of ten, she corrects him, anyway.

The space shuttle is spotlit under a dome roof, more ivy spilling over the top. A little heap of machinery, succumbed to the nature around it. They crank the door open together, and a springtime heat floods from the cockpit.

Joel stops Ellie from climbing in. “You’re goin’ into space,” he says, leaning on the warm metal. “You’re gonna need a helmet.”

Her eyebrows lift. “Oh, right. What was I thinking?”

They’re too big for her – all three helmets. They’re clunky and clumsy, the visors a little grubby and distorted. But she pulls one over her head and jogs back to Joel, hoisting herself into the shuttle.

It’s cramped inside; stifling even with the door wide open. Joel feels his back twinge as he settles into the seats. But he doesn’t mind, and neither does Ellie.

She flicks button after button, her elbow knocking against his. Explosion sounds rumbling from her lips. Her breath clouds the inside of her helmet.

He could lie here all day beside her. In this quiet corner of the world, where time stands still. Guarded by the Tyrannosaurus Rex out front. Just him and his kid, listening to her mimic engine noises and pretend to lift them both into space.

But he’s hellbent on timing it perfectly. So just as she sounds the roar of a seamless takeoff, he slips the tape from his chest pocket.

“Happy birthday, kiddo.”

Ellie blinks at the cassette. “What is this?”

“This…” Joel says, pinching it in two fingers, “…is a thing that took a mighty effort to find.”

His handwriting is carved into the label. It’s the first gift – real gift, birthday gift – she’s ever been given. Thought out and made up, addressed to her and placed in her hands for keeps. All hers.

She clicks it into her player and hooks her headphones in, thumping her helmet back over her head. She jams a thumb into the play button, and –

He did remember to rewind the tape, right? It’ll play from the start, won’t it?

Joel’s heart begins to thud. He shifts uncomfortably.

Shit, what if it spoils the surprise? What if she hits play, and the first thing she hears is –

Ellie’s head lifts. Her eyes are wide. She grins, and so does he.

He fucking nailed it.

She closes her eyes, the staticky babble of mission control in her ear. His voice tickles, pulling a wide grin across her face. 10, 9, 8, 7…

The shuttle shudders as it shoots into space. She’s holding her breath, holding until he announces liftoff on Apollo 11. The naked sun stretches over her visor, red under her closed eyelids. It disappears somewhere in the distance.

Ellie lands slowly, carefully, back in Wyoming. She blinks her eyes open.

Joel’s still right beside her, hands clasped on his chest. He waits for her to turn, waits to check her expression. He asks it softly, earnestly.

“I do okay?”

Her cheeks ache with smiling. She clutches the tape player tighter, replies through a giggle.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

There might be nothing outside of this shuttle. Perhaps there was nothing to begin with. They might’ve shot straight past the earth’s atmosphere, might actually be among the stars. And it might not even matter, if they are.

Everything is right here. The sun and the moon – the entire universe between them.

Joel breathes a relieved laugh. His chest loosens, his heart settles back into place behind his ribcage.

“You’re welcome, kiddo.”

#in my genfic era #bye again #the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller #ellie williams #joel x ellie #the last of us part 2 #tlou 2 #joel miller fic #ellie williams fic

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gabessquishytum · 7 months ago

Note

Dream has been hearing rumors (those biddies love to gossip about Dream's family) that Orpheus has gotten into an inappropriate relationship. Something, something "sugar baby", something, something f*cking an older man.

Dream doesn't want to interfere in Orpheus's life, but the Endless family, and Dream himself, have money, not as much as in their storied past, but enough that Orpheus doesn't have to whore out his young ass for money.

Dream isn't even judging, he just want his son not to make mistakes similar to the ones that Dream made in his youth. Dream knows how seductive those older men can be....hell Dream is still young himself (not a twink anymore certainly, but Dream had Orpheus young, so he doesn't look like the father of a college student.).

Suffice to say, Dream learns the name of the man supposedly paying for Orpheus's ass and goes to see him, maybe he can warn him off Orpheus. R. Gadling has something like 10 or 15 years on Dream, hopefully Dream can get him to see reason.

💶 💶 💶 💶 💶

Hob would have liked it to be known, if he was interested in talking to those judgmental society b*tches, that he does not need to pay a young man for sex. Thank you very much. He might like to take care of his lovers, but so far he draws the line at 30-year age differences. He is not that much of a creeper.

Orpheus is a fantastic young man, a musical prodigy, and Hob knows some people in the industry. All he did was offer introductions, that Orpheus, with his gift, would have most likely developed on his own, in time. He is not sleeping with a boy young enough to be his son,,,his son Robin introduced them for goodness sake!

When Orpheus's father comes to Hob is high dungeon, judgingly talking about inappropriate relationships and all but screaming at Hob, in his beautiful deep voice, for Hob to stop sleeping with his son -- Hob might have fallen in love on the spot. Blush high on his cheeks, hair a mess, looking like he just woke up from a good f*ck, Hob wanted to bite.

And mess with him a little,,,,,Hob offered (jokingly he thought) to stop sleeping with Orpheus if his father took his place in Hob's bed. He was expecting more yelling, not Morpheus Endless to say yes on the spot.

Oh Dream...... you poor little horny idiot. Trying so hard to be the best dad, but Orpheus is cringing SO hard.

Hob really was joking about exchanging Orpheus for Morpheus, and then Dream goes ahead and looks so sincere and so sexy... but Hob isn't a bad person (not anymore) so he sighs and explains that it was a joke. He's not fucking anyone right now, especially not Dream’s kid. He is in fact in the middle of a very long dry spell, and yes he might be going into too much detail now but at least Morpheus looks like he believes him. He sighs and smoothes down his hair and Hob is almost disappointed to see that anger fade away. Morpheus does at least blush prettily and say "call me Dream", so that's. A nice development.

And then Dream asks if Hob was joking about wanting to sleep with him, and if he thinks that Dream is too old to be a sugarbaby? Because he'd actually be willing to give it a try... And he says it in this teasing, flirty way that goes right to Hob’s dick. He's desperately hoping that his dryspell might finally be over. But he's going to have to pull out all the stops and really woo this delicious man.

Before Dream knows it, he's being whisked off to Hob’s box at the opera for a night of champagne and beautiful music. Hob explains that he doesn't take just anyone up to his box - only pretty boys that he really wants to spoil. Dream nearly melts into a puddle over being called a "boy". And yes, he's still relieved when Hob confirms that he never took Orpheus for a night at the opera.

Apparently Dream’s penchant for older guys really hasn't faded away, because he's getting butterflies whenever Hob puts a hand on his back to guide him, or orders their drinks with polite authority. If Orpheus was fucking Hob, then Dream would absolutely be fighting his own son tooth and nail over this man. Dream is embarrassed by his own horniness but not enough to stop - maybe he's doesn't actually need a sugar daddy, but he sure as hell WANTS this one <3

#reluctant1lady #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw age gap

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tadpoles-and-daydreams · 6 months ago

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A ramble on imposter syndrome and the accessibility of witchcraft

So, I’ve been thinking. I think a lot in case you haven’t noticed. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about the major imposter syndrome I’ve been feeling lately in regards to this blog. TL;DR is at the bottom of this post.

People have been, occasionally, sending me asks requesting my opinion on things/how I do things/what I know about XYZ topic. If you are one of these people, I promise I’m not vagueposting about you in particular- in fact, I love these questions! They’re so fun to get and they actually make me sit and think sometimes, or even encourage me to write out something that I’ve been meaning to for my book of shadows. Genuinely, they're wonderful asks to receive. These questions have made me confront something, however; my blog is still small, but some people actually like what I write and value my opinion even if just a little.

I feel like a mimic hiding in the witchcraft community. I feel like, were people to truly understand my experiences, they would want to “expose” me for knowing so little.

So I sat down with those feelings and turned it over in my head and I’ve come to a conclusion. The fact is, I don’t do research. At least- not what I think of when people talk about research. My "research" consists of the occasional rabbit hole I go down, one and two halves of different books I never finished under my belt, what I see scrolling through various social medias, and conversations I've had with other witches. I check to make sure I'm not stepping on the toes of any closed practices- in fact, that's what most of my energy goes to when it comes to research. This isn't a complaint; I'd much rather know that my craft isn't appropriative.

But I don’t know much about mythology, even that of the deities I work with. I don't even remember the holidays and what they're for. I thought Nyx was an Egyptian deity until like four months ago because I'd just heard her name in passing as a child and had never looked into the mythology... Even though I mainly work with the pantheon she belongs to. Y’all, I’ve done like three spells that I remember. My book of shadows is a messy disaster and I love it but it's got so little information in it, because I rarely write things down. Most resources (especially mythology resources) are academically worded or difficult to read for me personally, and all of these things feel like secrets I have to guard with my life because if I were to ever say them aloud, people would know I'm a fraud.

Today I've come to the conclusion that that is, in fact, absolute bullshit.

Maybe it's not, maybe this post will make some people really upset, but in my practice it's bullshit. All of the above is a result of my ADHD and the fact that I am nothing if not a hands-on learner. My craft is mostly my own experiences because that's how my whole life is; I learn by doing. My ideal learning style is sitting with another autistic person whose special interest is whatever I'm learning about and just talking for five hours, but if that's not something I can do, puzzling it out myself is the next best thing. That's what I've been doing ever since I felt had a basic foundation for my craft. Hell, even before I had a foundation I was putting my own experiences into my craft because "Well that rule just doesn't fucking vibe with me."

This post is mostly for me, but partially for anyone who feels similar. We are not broken or doing witchcraft/paganism wrong. We are simply what happens when the kid who could never do homework ends up practicing the "religion/spirituality that comes with homework." Witchcraft and paganism, in my experience, is far from accessible when it comes to the typical image of it. UPG is what makes it accessible. So yes, my practice is heavily UPG, and I don't do as much research as I think people have assumed. But I'm going to let go of the idea that I'm a fraud, because frankly I know enough about witchcraft to have supported my practice this whole time and my deities haven't smited me yet so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TL:DR:

Fuck the rules, I don't do much research. I've researched the "basics" and what I need to so I'm not stepping on any toes of closed practices, but people seem to think I know way more than I actually do. I've felt like I was lying this whole time but frankly witchcraft just isn't accessible to someone with my flavor of auDHD, so my craft relies heavily on UPG and I've decided that I'm not broken or wrong for that and neither is anyone else. I'm tired of seeing myself as an imposter just because I make my practice doable for me.

#I feel weird about posting this but Loki seems thrilled #of course he is though #“fuck the rules” energy is their whole deal #Frog's writing #shit did I use caps in my previous posts?#Frog's Writing #frog's writing #there we go now it doesn't matter lol #witchcraft #witchblr #pagan witch #pagan #witch community #paganism #deity work #eclectic pagan #paganblr #witch blog

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avelera · 3 months ago

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"Weirdness", Decency, and the Historical Echoes of Walz's tide-turning call-out of MAGA

At the risk of writing a high school paper about American politics in 2024, I think there's a historical echo that I'd like to add to the conversation of why Walz calling MAGA people, "weird" seems to finally armed Democrats with a line of personal attacks against MAGA that resonates with voters and seems to have overall broken the spell on this, well, weird behavior by them.

I think the one line of discussion that I haven't seen explored as to why the "weird" attack seems to be working to call out this aptly-named behavior by the far right in America is its similarity to the end of another far right movement in America: McCarthy's Red Scare.

It is popularly attributed that the moment, the quote, that brought about the end of the Red Scare was this:

"Until this moment, senator, I think I never gauged your cruelty or recklessness . . . . Have you no sense of decency, sir? At long last, have you left no sense of decency?"

Special Counsel for the U.S. Army Joseph N. Welch confronting Sen. Joseph McCarthy (source)

Many historical accounts will say this is the moment the spell broke with McCarthy. That this is the moment when Americans looked around like the naval officer at the end of Lord of the Flies and basically said, "What the hell is going on here?"

I think Walz's "weird" quote is this moment.

I've been waiting for this moment to occur with MAGA for some time. It did indeed feel as if no amount of pointing out the lunacy, the absurdity, of the movement was enough. I think other commentators might be right when saying that appealing to how dangerous they are, how scary they are, wasn't working. I could speculate on a variety of reasons for this, like that people like to be part of the winning side and being "scary" can feel good. Or that because of Godwin's Law it's nearly impossible to impress upon people how serious and swift the rise of fascism can be even when it's right in front of you, because no one wants to believe that "our sort of people" would do that sort of thing.

But calling out the MAGA movement as "weird" seems to be working because it echoes Welch's "decency" attack. It is treating childish behavior with the response it deserves. It's huff of exasperation, it's the admonishment of the social choir saying, "What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you care about other people's personal lives so much? Why the hell are you trying to ban books like the Nazis did? Why are you going after women and immigrants and trans kids? Why can't you just be a good neighbor and leave people alone? At long last have you no sense of decency?"

We're tired of it. The MAGA movement has gone too far beyond the wishes of the moderate "silent majority" (such as it is and that's its own topic of debate) and is now obsessed with its own culture war issues that have grown increasingly detached from anything anyone really cares about day to day except for their die hards. And those die hards are so out of touch they don't realize it happened.

If I may end on one last rumination, I think that part of the reason the MAGA movement has lost touch is because of Trump's skill at marketing. Now, I loathe pretty much every aspect of the man, I struggle to think of any point on which I don't, but there is one thing, one thing I'll give him credit for which is being an arguably generational talent at marketing, branding, and self-promotion. He's good at getting his name on things and making them all about him (before he inevitably runs them into the ground).

But the thing is with marketing, you do a thing called A/B testing. You see which message resonates the most. And if a feel-good ad gets you 30% response and a misogynistic ad gets you 60% response, you go with that misogynistic one because the numbers support it (I actually saw this happen with an ad campaign so it's based on personal experience).

Now, if you notice that 16 year old boys really like your product and if you sell to them, you move more product, even if you lost the interest of everyone else, you're still doing a good job at moving your product (see Hollywood for the last few decades). Because a large, certain audience is better in marketing than trying to achieve broad but tepid appeal.

But the thing in politics is that you actually do have to expand your appeal. You have to get over 50% in the US. That means expanding the coalition, appealing to more people. But that runs counter to the way a lot of product marketing would work, where you'd single out your best audience and market aggressively to them because you'll get a better return. That, I think, is why Trump risks losing the middle even as he has the right locked down. He is a marketer, not a politician. He has his reliable audience. But that reliable audience isn't enough to win office. It's just enough to get reliable buyers of his product. And he doesn't know how to expand beyond them.

To bring this all back to "weirdness" and "decency", I think this too plays into what we're seeing. The MAGA movement has turned in on itself through its constant marketing to itself, always seeking a bigger outrage, a bigger sequel to bring people to the theater. That has put it out of touch with the wider mainstream. It's made them weird, a weird subculture within America that is not in touch with what most people want out of their government.

At least, that's what I hope. We'll find out in a few months now, won't we?

#maggie discusses politics #us politics

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witlesswitnesstm · 8 months ago

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I am a firm Marvin Gardens BPD/NPD truther, so here’s all my evidence.

This is a very long post, so buckle up.

• Narcissistic Personality Disorder

Let’s go through the symptoms he shows, shall we?

- Has unreasonably high sense of self importance, and requires constant admiration:

Marvin, especially as a child, exhibits a large amount of grandiosity. This is most evident in How Marvin eats his breakfast and My Highschool Sweetheart.

He thinks of himself as above the maid staff and he constantly threatens/accuses them. Then he’s given the role of Columbus, and highly identifies with him to the point where he claims he *is* Columbus. That he’s this grand explorer, who’s the king of the ocean. He believes he’s powerful because of the role.

Then as an adult, Marvin has a constant need for adoration. He needs people (like Whizzer and Trina) to love and want him in songs like Thrill of first love and This had better come to a stop. That might even be a reason he got with Trina in the first place. He wanted to feel needed, without the responsibility of having to love back.

Not to mention the line “Kid. Be my son.” In Father to son. He wants Jason to fulfill the role as his son (and subsequently love him), not really acknowledging he’s his own person. But he still deeply cares about Jason, and wants him to succeed, he just does it through the only lense he understands; himself. Also, I noticed that Marvin literally moves the chess board aside and makes Jason face him during that song, even though he clearly doesn’t want to.

- Believes they deserve special privileges or treatment:

The R of Ms. Goldberg shows Marvin is obsessed with getting what he wants, for no other reason besides the fact that he wants it. It’s also implied that he didn’t even necessarily have the acting skills required to be Columbus, Ms. Goldberg just conceded because he kept pestering her. He believed he deserved it, so he got it.

- Make achievements and talents bigger than they actually are:

Again, Marvin obsessed over being a star actor. He also consistently exaggerates his intelligence with lines like “I can read her like a book” in How Marvin eats his breakfast and “I'm not so rich but hell I'm smart.” In This had better come to a stop.

In I never wanted to love you, Marvin also claims that he’s in demand, when he’s most likely not and is just trying to cover for his ego.

- Preoccupied with fantasies of success, power, brilliance

Oh wow. Ok, so we all know about the metaphor for games at this point. Marvin loves winning, he literally says it’s everything to him. He also says that he wants it all multiple times which is just, really driving home the point that he craves success and power over everything else.

Marvin is also characterized as being rich, which again emphasizes his need for success. I’m thinking he climbed the corporate ladder for the sole objective of looking like he’s successful.

Side note, I think the reason he never acknowledges how rich he is might be because he’s ashamed of being a trust fund baby. He had a whole maid staff as a kid, so it’s implied his parents had mad stacks. He might’ve sought success outside his parents’ money so that it was his own accomplishment, not his family’s.

I want to touch on My chance to survive the night, specifically the line “I played a game. She was as cute as a dime and couldn't spell. I asked her to spell my name. That's it for girls.” Marvin has a history of using games as a basis for breaking up with people because of his insecurity, even before Chess game. He gets a lot better with this in act 2, and this is evident in the racquetball matches. He seems a little unconfident, but he’s not devastated by it in the way he would be before.

I’ve mentioned this in a separate post, but The r of Ms. Goldberg can also be interpreted as a fantasy for power, since Marvin isn’t actually interested in having sex with Ms. Goldberg, and instead just wants to have control over her.

- Is critical and looks down on people they feel aren’t important:

Marvin consistently ignores his sweetheart even when she begs for his attention. When she tries to tell him she’s a person, he calls her ridiculous.

Marvin also just generally acted out as a child because he considered everyone as beneath him.

This trait is especially highlighted In Tight Knit family reprise, where he just straight up talks shit about Mendel, not being able to believe that Trina can love him. It’s also shown in Marvin hits Trina, that he dislikes her platitudes and expects substance from her, and then goes on to again beg for admiration with the line “How could you ever deny what we had?”

- Expects others to do what they ask without question:

This is best shown in This had better come to a stop and Chess game. Marvin expects Whizzer to play the housewife, while not acknowledging that he’s his own person.

This is also displayed in Tight Knit family, where he expects everyone to go along with his perfect vision of what a family should be.

- Has an inability or unwillingness to recognize the needs and feelings of others:

This is most clear with Sweetheart and Trina. As I’ve said, Marvin blatantly ignores sweetheart’s attempts to love him, and completely disregards her. I want to note how he does this in favor of being attached to Ms. Goldberg and playing Columbus which are his power fantasies, essentially.

This trait is also shown in Breakfast over Sugar when Marvin basically tells Trina to shut up and that she’ll get over it when she’s having a a pretty expected emotional outburst to him divorcing her. He completely disregards her feelings, showing no empathy to her.

- Acts arrogantly:

This can just be interpreted as confidence but Marvin says that he loves being himself multiple times over the course of In trousers.

• Borderline Personality Disorder

- A strong fear of abandonment:

This ties into Marvin’s need for admiration, but he constantly asks others for validation, and even doesn’t want Trina to find new partners because he interprets it as abandonment of his family.

There’s also the workshop version of This had better come to a stop, which is all about how Marvin is terrified that Whizzer’s going to leave him again in act 2, but he tries to bury all those feelings down so that he doesn’t appear needy. One of the lines is “I sit here and slowly rot. Wait for Whizzer, wait for answers, and get none.” Which just really nails down this point.

There’s also Unlikely lovers, when Marvin refuses to leave Whizzer’s side in the hospital.

- A pattern of unstable, intense relationships:

I’m sure we all know where this is going.

Marvin has a lot of opinions about Trina. He says that he thinks she’s perfect in I have a family, but that at the same time, he says that he hates her in I swear I won’t ever again.

His wants are contradictory. He wanted Trina to leave him alone when he divorced her, but couldn’t accept that she married Mendel. Also, he fights with Trina consistently, even throughout Act 2.

Onto Whizzer, their relationship is driven solely by chaotic passion. Their relationship is *built* on fighting and making up with hate sex.

Whizzer has no idea how to feel about Marvin because of how unstable he is. Marvin can be gentle, but he expects everything to go his way. He’s affectionate but highly judgemental. (Then again, so is Whizzer.)

- Quick changes in how they view themself:

This is best shown in Your Lips and Me reprise. Marvin goes from hating who he was and what he did to Ms. Goldberg to having a whole ass victory song about how he loves being himself.

This might be sarcasm, but Marvin is also self deprecating in Tight knit family reprise, with the lyric “I'm too damn peeved, self-absorbed, self-deceived. Who knows?”

- Periods of stress related paranoia and loss of contact with reality

This is a stretch, but Marvin’s exes always hovering around him in In trousers might be paranoia about his past manifesting itself. This is especially clear in I can’t sleep and Your lips and Me reprise where they physically interact with him, preventing him from sleeping or reminding him of his past.

- Impulsive/risky behavior:

Bro got multiple STDs, presumably from unsafe sex. Also, it’s implied that he also got HIV after Whizzer.

Hitting Trina could also be seen as impulsive behavior.

- Wide mood swings:

This is where Marvin’s giddy seizures comes in. He has periods of extreme laughter and giddiness, sporadically.

- Inappropriate levels of anger

Marvin hits Trina. I mean, what else do I have to say? This whole song is about Marvin’s anger taking over his actions and causing physical harm because of it. He also shows inappropriate anger when he brings out Whizzer’s belongings after the Chess game.

Ok Jesus Christ that was a lot of words. Keep in mind that these are just my headcanons and you’re allowed to interpret Marvin in any way you want.

Also I don’t have these disorders myself and I’m not a professional psychologist or anything so let me know if I got some things wrong. I just care way too much about the Marvin Trilogy and I’m also interested in becoming a psychologist.

#falsettos #marvin trilogy #in trousers #marvin falsettos #falsettos 2016 #falsettos obc #I have thought too much about this #god someone save me #character analysis #google how do I stop a hyperfixation?

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oneofstarkskids · 4 months ago

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coffee?

pairings: peter parker x reader

genre: mild angst but pretty much just fluff with plot

*can be read as romantic or platonic.

summary: school sucks and being best friends with the smartest kid in school doesn't make you feel any better.

"fuuuuuucckkk," you said as you slammed your head onto the desk and brutally stabbed your notebook with a pencil.

peter glanced up at you in concern and tried desperately not to laugh at the sight before him.

you were being entirely over dramatic, but it still felt warranted. "why do they make us do this anyway?" you asked for the hundredth time.

peter shrugged, "i don't know, but the more you talk the longer it'll take."

you glared daggers at him before sitting up straight, "ya' know what? maybe i'll just quit. throw away all my text books, flip off the teachers and high tail out of this hell hole. can't fail if you don't have any tests to take."

peter shook his head. he knew you wouldn't do that. he knew better than anyone, that the only reason you complained so much was because you craved academic validation more than anything. and peter knew that you were actually very intelligent. the only reason you didn't get the grades you wanted, was because you never believed you could.

he spoke softly to you, "maybe we should take a break."

you pouted and looked like you were on the brink of collapse or possibly a mental breakdown. or both.

"coffee?" he asks with the sweetest smile. you laugh, "that would be great."

peter leaves the library for a bit and comes back with two cups of fresh coffee in his hands. you notice that they spelled your name wrong, but it didn't bother you.

how could you complain?

you thanked peter and started sipping the warm beverage, ignoring how it burned a bit as it went down.

the coffee was just what you needed. peter knew you so well. you took a deep breath and tried to clear your mind.

peter leaned over and started working out some of the questions step by step with you. you smiled and watched as it all came so easily to him.

after a few moments, you stopped him mid-sentence, "peter."

his eyes met yours with curiosity.

"you're a nerd," you said blatantly.

his brows furrowed as he shook his head.

"can't you focus for like five minutes?" he teased.

#marvel #mcu #fanfiction #marvel fluff #fluff #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x bestfriend!reader #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #peter 3 #andrew garfield

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year ago

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So, I am begging you here, pls tell me that Ikkaku and Yumichika are still bffs on this AU. I need the violent miss- and yet perfectly matched bastards to still be forever ride-and-die with each other.

Also, all the dropped tidbits relating to Yumichika are gold and I am hoarding them like a squirrel hoards his nuts for winter.

They are actually, for real, legally married.

Ikkaku was 500% ready to fight the entire Gotei-13 when he took the 628-year old marriage certificate he and Yumichika had gotten in 72 North to the Seireitei Records Office to be honored.

Instead, the sole hiccup in the process was the young lady behind the counter asking him to spell Yumichika's surname for her as this document seems to have been... stained, at some point.

"-That's not... Blood, is it?" She asks, concerned.

"Uh. It's actually. Um. Soy Sauce." Ikkaku mumbles.

It would have been less embarrassing if it had been blood.

Turns out, Gay marriage- and indeed, divorce, or changing your name, or gender, or becoming the third, fourth or seventeenth parent/legal guardian to a kid is a nonissue in soul society, because someone complained *once* and Yamamoto declared that, one, he didn't care, and two, the rest of the military commanders were hired off death row, and *this* is what you're complaining about? Fuck off.

But here are some Yumichika Fun Facts:

Everyone in the 11th division has really, really good personal hygiene and well-cared for hands, feet and nails because Yumichika's mother was a doctor at a rural hospital and put the fear of dysentery, cholera, pneumonia, tetanus, sepsis, trench rot and necrosis into him even more than fear of the gods, and he very much continued this sanitary evangelism.

Yumichika's other mother was a drag queen at the brothel that adjoined the hospital and taught him all about hair, makeup, poisons, manners, alley fights, how to play the shamisen, how to make a knife out of anything, flower arrangement and how to curse the hell out of a motherfucker of it comes to that.

Kubo was wrong Yumichika looks out for all his sisters not just his cis-ters.

Kenpachi was friends with Yumichika before either of the ever knew Ikkaku. He met Yumichika shortly after adopting Yachiru when Yumichika saved him from drowning in the river that ran through his home village.

Kenpachi asked Yumichika what he could do in gratitude for saving his life, and Yumichika, seeing his sword, asked if Kenpachi could "give him a real fight, for once"

They had a jolly little scrap that left Yumichika in the hospital for three months, an almost insatiable lust for battle, and a permanent bald scar on the edge of his eyebrow, which is where he glues the decorative feathers he wears.

It also got him (lovingly) told to move out and make his way in the world.

Yumichika met Ikkaku some years after that, when the theater/brothel he was working at hired Ikkaku on as an Emcee and a comedy act in his own right.

Ikkaku loves making people laugh and is damn good at it.

Yumichika was already considering making a move on him when a heckler pulled a sword on Yumichika during his act and Ikkaku beat the shit out of him with a chair without a second thought, and Yumichika decided he was going to seduce and marry this bald little maniac then and there.

It still took the better part of six months, because Ikkaku was convinced that Yumichika was "Way out of his league" and "He's just being friendly to a coworker!".

Things finally became clear when, having reached a boiling point of sexual frustration, Yumichika challenged Ikkaku to a duel, beat the hell out of Ikkaku with Kujaku, and screamed his feelings directly into Ikkaku's face.

"Oh." Said Ikkaku. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I'VE BEEN SAYING THINGS AND SHOWING YOU THINGS AND SITTING IN YOUR LAP AND KISSING YOU FOR SIX MONTHS YOU FUCKING MORON."

"...I may be stupid."

"At least you're also cute. C'mere you sexy cueball."

-and they have been blissfully if dramatically wedded since.

It was many years after that that they had moved on to a different brothel as a duo floor show act, when they got to talking to some of the other working girls about their travels and Yumichika tells the story of how he got his eyebrow scar saving a real freak of a guy from drowning after he got stabbed by a river stingray, but then he challenged him to a fight because- well, he was young and cocky and a small fish, but in a tiny pond- and promptly got his ass beat.

"That's wild!" Says Ikkaku. "I also challenged a random freak with a stingray scar on his leg to a fight because I was bored and- all due respect to you and Kujaku, my beloved - but he gave me a thrashing the likes of which I'd never had before or since. He had his daughter with him was the weird part- he was a real big bastard, face like a cliff, but his girl was this adorable little pink thing."

Yumichika sits up, frowning. "-seven feet tall in socks, big vertical scar on the right side of his face?" He asked, gesturing to his own.

Ikkaku put his drink down and pointed at Yumichika "-and bells in his hair! You fought Zaraki Kenpachi too??"

"Yes! What the hell?" Yumichika laughed. "I wonder where he is now..."

"Oh Gods, he had the WORST sense of direction! He's probably managed to walk in and back out of the Soul King's palace on accident!" Ikkaku giggled

"Well, if he's the same seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and pink little girl on his shoulder as the seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and the pink little girl on his shoulder standing out in the street looking lost as hell, you can go ask him." Said their coworker Sachiko, pointing to the giant standing not a dozen feet away.

"Look Ken-chan! It's YuYu and Baldy!" Yachiru giggled.

"Yachiru!" Yumichika gasped, delighted.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!" bellowed Ikkaku.

"YOU AGAIN!" Zaraki bellowed, ecstatic. " BEEN A FEW YEARS, LET'S SEE HOW MUCH YOU LEARNED!!"

Ten minutes of incredible violence, twelve minutes of evading the police and twenty-one minutes of getting lost on the way back to the brothel, a bloodied but still standing Yumichika was explaining to the Madame that the giant bastard carrying the unconscious half of her prized floor show duo behind him was, in fact, an old friend of theirs whom she should absolutely hire as a bouncer, you can see how effective he is!

Madame Tsubaki, who recognizes incredible spiritual power and fighting potential when she sees it, and who is still very petty about the divorce from her husband the Shinigami Captain-General, allows herself to be persuaded.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfiction #yumichika ayasegawa #ikkaku madarame #kenpachi zaraki #yachiru kusajishi

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junhui-png · 10 months ago

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puppy love ⌦ .｡.:*♡

mingyu x reader x scoups? (Still figuring it out LOL)

—————————⌦

summary: first year of college, you literally knew no one and you planned for it to stay that way but damn were you wrong

notes: uhmmm hiii idk what this is I got rlly bored so yeah LOLL if you read this I hope you enjoy and I’ll try and update like every other day hopefully 😽

‼️disclaimer: this is not proof read so I apologize if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes ‼️

genre: seventeen college au, love triangle between scoups and Mingyu, Mingyu being on a football team, financial major scoups, angst??, fluff, cute friend ships, Hoshi, Joshua, Seungkwan, Minghao, and Wonwoo r your besties, Also besties with Yunjin (Le Sserafim) and Minnie (G-IDLE), other seventeen members are mentioned?? Childhood friends, cursing, drinking

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you were always quiet, even when you were a kid. Because of this, you had very few friends and very much struggled to make new ones. Throughout Middle and Highschool the only thing you could do was to stuff you face into books to pass time. Eventually, you being a loner helped you to getting into your dream college. You thought you would be fine all by yourself at your new university, getting a degree in Creative writing, but hell you were so far from the truth. You thought you could just ignore everyone around you and just keep your head low but god was that somehow ten times harder now that you had entered college. Soon enough you had been paired with a man in your Journalism class names “Jeon Wonwoo” You didn’t know anything about him, you didn’t know anything about anyone there actually. He has Black somewhat messy hair and a pair of black glasses to compliment his hair. Both of you were introverts so the first week of the project was painfully awkward but as the next few weeks flew by, you had successfully made you first ever friend in maybe 10 years? You weren’t even sure. Once you had finished the project (and of course gotten an A) you and Wonwoo stayed in touch and talked frequently inside and outside of class. Till he offered to invite you to meet his study group. You were of course hesitant but you ended up going and just like that you had made another 5 friends and then because of those new friends you met new people and became their friends. Before the semester even ended, you new basically everybody on campus.

——present timez————

“you finished the essay Mr.Marten assigned” Minghao askes you, slightly shifting in his seat to get a better look at your computer screen “yeah basically” you simply reply “well then…” You noticed Minghao had been really fidgety ever since you both had entered the library, which isn’t how he normally is, meaning something’s up. “You ok? Something’s bothering you, right? You turn your body to face him and his body seems to relax just a bit “ok so… I kinda..maybe, possibly told soonyoung that you would come to the party he’s hosting tonight” Minghao keeps his head slightly down “Minghao..” you sigh, slumping back in your seat. You rarely ever went out, only when it was some sort of special occasion but besides that you basically just stay in your dorm or at a library or cafe. “I know I know” he says apologetically “You never go out and I swear your gonna go insane if you don’t go out once in a while” you chuckle a little at his stupid reasoning “still I should have told you I just wasn’t thinking and now Soonyoung is all excited about you coming and I just felt bad telling him, you know?” You nod, “I guess I’ll go” you let out another tired sigh as you pack your things “really? Damn ok I didn’t see that coming” Minghao laughs, getting up from his seat “I’ll see you later than” He smiles and you smile back at him before he walks out of the cafeteria and you finish packing your things.

It’s about 7:30 when you leave your dorm and get an Uber over to Soonyoung’s house. You were dressed up for once in a while, wearing a grey denim tube top with matching jeans paried with black boots and a black bag. “It’s my first and probably last time going out for this month, might as well just go all out” is what you thought to yourself while getting ready, but now in front of Soonyoung’s house you gravely regretted your stupid decision “Y/NNNNNNN!” Seungkwan yells your name from the entrance of Soonyoung’s house “hi Seungkwanie” you giggle patting him on the back “I didn’t think you would come!” He says all giddy “A promise is a promise” you give Minghao a dirty glance, which he catches and throws you an apologetic look before rushing of to get another drink. Seungkwan leads you to the couch and plops down next to you “do you want anything to drink?” He asks and you take a moment to think about it before just saying “fuck it” and asking him to bring you whatever he’s getting and he nods, leaving you on the couch with some other girls. Your not left alone for long until you hear someone call for you “Yoo! Your Soonyoung’s friend right?” A tall man with black hair and a stunning face. “uhm yes” you responded nonchalant “You don’t know me but I’m Kim Mingyu, Graphic design major” Mingyu sticks his hand out for a handshake “I’m y/n, Creative writing major” you shake his hand, giving him a slight smile and he returns it. “Anyways imma get straight to the point. I’m interested in you. You caught my eye earlier and asked around about you and they said you were close to Soonyoung, and im also his friend and I’ve never seen you before, so I wanna be friends” The man says bluntly. Mingyu’s sudden “confession” Has your head spinning, searching for some sort of response “uhm ok..?” Is all you manage out but he seems satisfied with your answer “Alright, then go out with me this week” again this man and his blunt statements have you so lost and you can’t even bring yourself to say anything before he says “of course with Soonyoung, and Minghao and everyone” Your face gets a little hot realizing he wasn’t asking you out but in fact his grammar just sucked and you misunderstood him and he definitely got what you were thinking “You thought I was asking you out, didn’t you?” He says with a sly smile “whatever” you roll your eyes, hearing the man’s giddy laughter “IM BACK SORRY” Seungkwan squeezes through the crowd, two bottles of beer in his hand “some guys back there were CRAZY drunk” he sighs, slumping down next to you and placing the drinks In front of you. “Drink up!” Seungkwan lifts his cup up for a cheer.

“Damn girl you didn’t even drink that much” One of you girl friends, Yunjin says, trying her best to keep you up. It was well known in your friend group that your alcohol tolerance was basically 0 and that’s also another reason you didn’t go out much “CAN SOMEONE TAKE HER HOME!” Yunjin shouts over the crowd but to be met with no answer “I can!” Mingyu’s booming voice is easily heard over the loud music “Omg great thank you so much, I’ll text you her address” Yunjin pats Mingyu on the back before rushing back to the lively party, leaving you with him “let’s go then” he puts his arm over you as he helps you out of Soonyoung’s house and into his car. “You know, I think I should go out more” you proudly announce “Then take my over and have dinner with me and the rest of the group” Mingyu chuckles, starting the car “Ok!” Is all you chirp before you completely knock out.

“I swear to god y/n you better get up right now” you best friends voice echo through your foggy mind “what..” you mumble, the warm sun hitting you through the windows. You were now in your dorm room completely changed. “What happened..?” You scratch your head, still trying to process your surroundings “You tell me!” You roommate, Minnie exclaims “you tell me why, when I was getting ready to go to sleep, looking the WORST I could ever have looked someone knocked at our door and it was the most ANGELIC BEAUTIFUL SUN KIST Man I have ever seen, holding you bridal style!” Minnie exclaims once again “I WAS WEARING A FUCKING HELLO KITTY SHEET MASK” Minnie cringes at the memories of last night “damn..” you mumble, giving her a somewhat apoplectic look “ugh it’s whatever, he said you were drunk and he was just dropping you off and he brought you some medicine as well so take that before you leave” Minnie sighs, leaving you alone in your room “what the fuck is happening”.

You change into a pair of grey sweatpants and a beige like hoodie with your hair up in a ponytail “Sorry for all the trouble last night” you said, even thought you couldn’t recall anything after you had entered Mingyu’s car you knew you had probably brought hell down on Minnie night care routine “it’s fine, just take your medicine before you leave” She places the medicine on the counter before heading back to her room. You take the medicine with some water before putting on your shoes and grabbing your bag “OK BYEE LOVE YOUU” you shout before leaving the house. You rush down to campus and into your next class just a minute early “You feeling ok?” Wonwoo asks you “I feel horrible” you sit down next to him, placing your stuff down next to your seat. The entire class was just a bunch of yapping you couldn’t pay attention to because, one you were too tired and two, you were still trying to remember literally anything from last night. “You have the address right?” Wonwoo’s sudden question pulls you out of your trance “Huh??” You mumble with a confused look and Wonwoo face also molds into a confused one “For dinner..?” He tries clarifying but you still don’t seem to get it “the dinner plans??? Me, you, mingyu, Soonyoung, Joshua, Seungkwan and some other guy?” Wonwoo tries again and it finally clicks, but why was he asking you “I know what your talking about but I’m not going?” You say “really? You said you were going?” Wonwoo says and that’s when you finally remember some of last night “OH SHOT! Mingyu told you that right?” You ask and he simply nods “So you are going” he asks again and you let out a sigh “yeah..yeah I’m going” you’re tired of going back and fourth so you just let it go “ok cool! I’ll text you the address!”

The rest of the day was boring, nothing special just the usual classes than group studying, solo studying and some “HI’s” and “How are you’s” here and there. Once you had finally finished your classes for the day, you return home to get ready for the dinner. You wear a simple black short-ish dress with a black leather jacket and the converse (didn’t feel like wearing the boots) “You’re going out?” Minnie peaks through your door and examines your outfit “you look nice” she smiles “thank you” you smile back “I’ll be back at maybe 9?? 10? Not sure but I’ll text you ok?” You tell Minnie and she nods “I’m probably gonna go out later, anyways have fun!” She calls out as you shut the door. The restaurant was only a 5 minute Uber drive and you also weren’t the only person arriving at that time “Hey” Mingyu says, almost creeping up behind you. You hadn’t talked to him since Soonyoung’s party and all though nothing happened you felt awkward, like you were meeting him for the first time all over again. “Hi” you reply “And uhm sorry for the trouble I caused the day before yesterday” you and Mingyu both walk into the restaurant and spot Joshua, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan at a table “don’t sweat it, it’s what friends are for” he chuckles, leaving you behind and rushing over to the table we’re your friends had been seated. Friends is what he called you. Could you two really be friends if you had just met the other day? “Y/N sit over here!” Joshua’s calming voice calls out to you “mhm!” You responding rushing over to the table and taking a seat next to Joshua. You guys talk a bit while waiting for appetizers when Mingyu says something that catches your attention “coups said he’s outside right now” “finally god damn” Soonyoung chuckles and the rest laugh “who’s “coups”?” You ask “one of my friends, I invited him today” Mingyu says and you nod. “Sorry I’m late guys!” A voice from the entrance calls out. Everyone turns around, including you to see a familiar face “COUPS! What’s up man!” Choi Seungcheol “omg..” at first you weren’t sure but now you were a hundred precent sure that was Choi Seungcheol “Seungcheol?” You mumble, in case you were wrong. The man’s eyes shot up to you and they almost immediately soften “Y/N??” He voice changed immediately after calling your name “you two know each other???” Wonwoo asks and you slowly nod, still in awe “it’s been awhile?” He chuckles.

previous / next

part 2 coming out 01/31/24 or 02/01/24 😽

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alornights · 2 years ago

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⟢ gossip session.

➜ in which ! kyle finds himself interested in your gossip.

💌 ﹫kyle broflovski.

✩ 🎸 warnings﹗gossip about teacher/student affair.

🍓 ⟡ notes — i love gossiping lmao. i also realized ive been spelling his last name wrong for like ages until now lmao.

he loves it, no matter how hard he tries denying it, he love it.

at first, he didn't care for it, actually, he found it annoying. he never liked people talking about others behind their backs.

especially if they are personal matters.

so when you two are just in his room casually hanging out and your face-timing your friend talking about the latest school gossip he made sure to tune it out opting to listen to music.

until he one day overheard you gossiping because he forgot his headphones. then he starts paying attention and listening more carefully getting very interested in the story.

he can't help himself now from listening to your rambles.

"No, you don't understand Heather. PC Principal has no fucking clue about this which is surprising since he knows everything that goes on in this school. But like, how does he not know that a teacher is banging the head cheerleader of the school but fucking Butters of all people knows?"

"Yeah no, I have no idea how long it's been going on."

"I heard she might even be pregnant with the teacher's kid. Yeah, uh huh, no way- HE HAS 3 SEPARATE FAMILIES?"

kyle tries so hard not to ask because he knows it's not the right thing to do but in the end, he can't help himself.

he starts listening every chance he gets. trying to put pieces together if he hadn't heard the other parts of the story.

it gets so bad that he starts listening

hell, he even listens to some of cartman's gossip.

finally he admits he is gossip addict and decides to talk to you.

As you walked back into his room after having a quick call with one of your friends about the recent gossip that just surfaced.

Kyle sighed mentally bracing himself for what he was about to say.

"What happened next? With the teacher-student thing I mean..."

You stare at him incredibly, tilting your head in confusion. "Huh? I thought you hated gossip since you know it's people not minding their own business or whatever."

The teen grumbled a bit before turning away. "Maybe I've had a change of heart."

and when he means "change of heart"

he actually means he's so invested that its like an addiction.

the guy becomes a crazed gossip girl kicking his feet giggling.

Words couldn't describe the look of happiness on your face as you raced over to his bed slamming your body on top of him in giddiness. "Okay listen closely. So right now, 2 of the 3 families have found out about this situation and are all divorcing him."

"Actually?" He questioned sitting up, shifting you in his arms so you were both comfortable. "How the hell did he find out? Didn't you say that they all lived far away or something?"

You nodded. "They do but someone from our school who shall be unnamed, leaked it to them with photos of the teacher and student, well, getting the groove on after school in his class."

"No. Fucking. Way."

"Yes, way!" You clapped your hands with a smirk. "That's all for now since this just happened like 2 hours ago."

A beat of silence passes by until he looks back at you staring you dead in the eye. "You'll keep me updated... right?"

You laugh nodding your head excitedly. "You'll be the first to know."

#south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #LORA WRITES — 🍡 ʬʬ

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montanamp3 · 4 months ago

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in the spirit of the genre i'd like to hijack the current asian country music train to talk about one of my favourite historical guys shoji tabuchi: fiddler hall of famer! king of kitsch americana slay!! one of the Most Guys Ever in country music!!!!!

[OKAY this spiralled into a Whole Thing so im putting it under the cut to save your dashes. be warned this is long]

quick backstory: shoji tabuchi was born in osaka, japan. he was classically trained on the violin but discovered country through roy acuff and joined a fairly popular japanese band called the bluegrass ramblers. in 1967 he moved to america with (he claimed later) his guitar and five hundred dollars and played in a couple of bands around california and texas. in the 80s, he got a contract in branson missouri, met his wife there, and they started a show called (very creatively) the shoji tabuchi show.

this is where it gets fun, because the shoji tabuchi show is. okay. it's like if you concentrated the distilled essence of 1990s RAGHHH AMERICA HELL YEAH-style patriotism into a three hour-long extravaganza with backup dancers! fog machines! ten thousand glitter suits! SHOJI spelled out all caps with lasers! a glow in the dark space violin from NASA! like it's TACKY! it's CHEESY! it's CAMP! it's genuinely hilarious!

anyway, when people talk about tabuchi they like to say that he was the "american dream" like he had a family, he owned a whole incredible theatre with (no joke) the gaudiest bathrooms in america, he played two shows a day until he died, he performed to the pm of japan… like he was GETTING THAT BREAD!! the city of branson even gave him a public holiday!

and to be clear. i love tabuchi, i think he was a great entertainer and a great performer, and i don't begrudge him any of his success. but there are better fiddlers out there, better performers, better singers. as a guy on reddit put it in 2013 put it, you kind of have to recognise that at least some part of his success is enabled by "Asian Can Into Country Music???" syndrome. and he has kind of acknowledged this himself-- he used to sell himself as the "japanese cowboy" before he started his show, and he once told a magazine "say person A and person B play [the fiddle] just as good. who stands out, me or him?" which is. #girlboss? maybe? one of his more defining traits throughout his career was his fairly pronounced japanese accent which made it difficult for him to gain footing in the music industry at first but became iconic . some people have said that he didn't actually have that strong of an accent and he was playing it up for the Bit-- a hypothesis that is (somewhat) supported by his album named (i kid you not) ROVE RETTERS.

so how much of the shoji tabuchi show was the Bit and how much of it was genuine? and if it is a bit, who's in on it? who's being made fun of- tabuchi? japan? the audience? america? i have to admit i'm pretty biased here because the essential Incongruence of being an asian-can-into-country-music person IS funny! rawhide kobayashi and all that! and i understand why he might have leant into it and played it up to survive/get famous/get that bread. i never knew tabuchi, so i can't say that like it's fact, but wouldn't that be the most american thing of all?

#jimmy july core-I AM FORCIBLY REMOVED FROM BRANSON MISSOURI #i don't know why and how this got so long. sorry gang #musicposting #What do people tag on these #asian american #history #phd in yapology

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aspinyyy · 1 year ago

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HybridCat!Bachira x Fem!Reader

| All characters are age up!

Sypnosis: Bachira is so clingy and needy asf. He is quite bratty but only does that to get your attention tease you and annoy you. He who loves to be pampered and spoiled to your friendly affection but he sees it romantically. Dw it's smut and fluff :DD practically him being submissive but wild in the bedroom.

♛┈⛧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈⛧┈♛.・゜゜・༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Warnings!: Minors do not interact! NSFW, ofc it's smut. overstimulation, obsession implies to reader, reader gets dumb fucked, breeding kink, praise kink, dacryphilia, and honestly it's badly written but it's been fueled by my itching brain so yeah. Pronoun for the reader is you.

[word count: 2.3k]

| thank you my dear beta reader for correcting my horrendous grammar and spellings. And no, I am not deeply sorry for making you have seizures >:D

You let him stay at your house since you never had any company other than yourself. The house you own was previously filled with laughter and tears with your family but as time goes by, only what's left was a lone tearing eyes and laughs from you.

The cat introduces himself and his name is Bachira Meguru. He was practically behaving like a good kid in the first two weeks but as the time grows between the two of you, he's starting to get a little more naughty.

First, he made pranks to laugh at you, yeah it was all fun and games that you also enjoy because he's just startling you. Not until he started to get more rabid, scratching at your door when you left him outside of your room at 2 am after you found out that he's sneaking into your bedroom. *Oh darling, he just wants some cuddles with you* Day after day, his pranks and teasing got a little worse. But you paid it no mind. Thinking that it's just his weird ass shenanigans and his cat personality on its own nature. And no, you don't know why he's being like this. *In fact he actually has a big crush on you ever since you picked him up in the cold streets.*

"Hehe~ You're so cute~" You sneered at him before he let out a chuckle as he nuzzled his head on your shoulder. Making you wonder how he could be so touchy whenever you're sitting or even laying down —always making sure to be there and make physical contact with you. Could be snuggling, or sometimes like this —laying his weight against you, or just simply fiddling with your hands. You tried to shake him off from your shoulder but he clings to you, refusing to let go. His head lays on your warm thigh —planning to sleep on your lap. His purrs are loud enough to hear despite the TV's volume. He closed his eyes while his thumb rests on his mouth *like a small baby.* You couldn't help but to melt on his adorable nature which made your hand automatically caress his hair, petting him to sleep.

After a few hours, your legs are feeling sore. You gently shake him awake but instead he grabbed your wrist and cupped it to his cheek, still sleeping like there's no tomorrow. You groaned and tap his cheek. "Silly cat... Wake up! " He opened his eyes, feeling groggy. He then nips your finger. "Ow! What the hell?! " He didn't release his grip on your wrist, instead he intertwined his hand with yours.

"Morning, my little bunny~" You snickered at his sudden name calling *trying to ignore 'my'* but deep down, that actually made you blush. But the fact that he is still on your sore lap, you frustratingly whined. "Get off me! You're heavy... " You fake your pouting while poking his supple cheek with your free hand. He grunts, however, thanks to your luck, he actually got off from your lap. To your surprise, he wrapped his tail on your waist.

"Where are you going...?" Bachira asked as he scratched his eyes. Without a second thought, his arm slipped in to hug yours on his side —not letting you go until you gave him affection.

"I'm not going anywhere– Oh.. Right.. I just remembered something. Do you wanna pay them a visit? You know, our new neighbor who just moved in yesterday?" Bachira grimaced as he coiled his tail on your waist.

"No. I don't care about them. " Your eyebrows furrowed, giving him a strained smile.

"I heard that they also have a cat! Don't you wanna meet them? There’s a chance she could be your mate~" Your finger teasingly poked his cheek but his golden eyes went dark.

There is definitely something weird about him —he was not too happy that you mentioned about the neighbor's cat to be with him. Bachira suddenly pounced on you and pinned you down on the couch which made you yelp unwantedly. Bachira is currently topping you with his slender yet muscular body which is covered with the thick baggy fabric of his hoodie and joggers.

"But baby... You're my mate. "

"..."

You were utterly speechless, shocked, and helplessly bound from his tight grip on your feeble wrists —pinning you down on the couch domineeringly. Bachira is closely inching to your face as he stares at your plushy lips.

"What do you... mean?"

"Mine."

"Wha—" Your words cut off suddenly as he crashes his lips onto yours. He closed the gap between you then trailed his hand to your head while the other caress your cheek. Your brain is too shocked to process what he just said.

"Mmh! Let go!" You tried to push him off but he's hugging you so tightly while deepening the kiss. His tongue caved into your moistened mouth after prying it open, humming and moaning while teasing your tongue with his. The wet noises surround the room, *music to your ears* you can't help but to shut your eyes tight—giving up on resisting—too intoxicated to his sloppy kiss.

Your arms glide to his neck, wrapping him in your embrace. There's no need for words, his gaze is enough to lure you into his lust. A slim strand of saliva connected your mouths together for a second as the both of you broke apart.

"Pretty bunny... Let me fuck you, yeah?"

Without letting you answer, he tore off your clothes leaving you in your underwear. He attacked your neck while ridding himself of his own clothes. "Look so pretty like this~" He murmured as he continued nipping your neck leaving marks.

Every touch of his sends a cold shiver to your loins. He sunk his teeth to your collarbone, marking you as his. A pained moan slipped out from your mouth and your nails dug to his scalp, fueling him to go further.

His skilled digits trailed down your covered core, subtly sliding over it "So cute~ All wet, just for me. " He smugly whispered as you bit your lower lip trying to muffle the mewl threatening to slip out of your lips. A hand cupped your cheek, gazing at you with his lustful golden orbs. He strokes the thin fabric covering your wet mound painstakingly slow, making your hips move heedlessly.

His hands stripped off your underwear, tossed it somewhere on the ground, completely exposing your sloppy drenched slit. You have never been so flustered before, you're completely naked —exposing your flawless body to his greedy eyes. He stared at you for a while, studying your body in every inch, completely mesmerized.

His slender fingers teasing your bud "My bunny... Don't worry, I'll be gentle~" His voice murmured in a husky whisper next to your ear. *biggest lie you'll ever hear* Your muffled moans softly slipped out from your mouth while grasping the utmost top of the back pillow. His lubricated finger from your juices made its way inside your gummy walls, making you mewl and widen your eyes.

This strange unfamiliarity felt so good, pleasuring you as he gently moved his finger back and forth between your walls. You close your eyes at the overwhelming sensation, letting yourself just feel Bachira’s finger inside you as they press and explore the sensitive parts of your body. His eyes never left you, watching you closely and studying your sensitive reactions. His ears twitch whenever you moan and whimper for him —those obscene sounds you make are music to his ears, he would gladly play it on repeat all day just to make his mood better.

You hitched as he kept hitting the same sweet spot of yours—curling and angling his finger as you felt the building knot in your stomach. Another finger slipped easily inside of your tight wet folds. Your mouth gaped and eyes rolled back as his two digits hastingly impaled you. The sound of your wet mound and your lewd moans got him all aroused.

He smirked, knowing that you're near your climax. Your hands snake to his back and dig your nails as you feel your orgasm blow in soon. His pace didn't stop—he giggled as his fingers got sucked tightly inside your folds. After a few quick strokes, your back arched and your toes curled —you reached your overwhelming climax while taking your heavy breaths. He pulled out his fingers then peppered you with his kisses on your cheeks.

".. Baby.. We're not done yet. "

"H-Huh? But.. Ah–! "

You felt his hardened throbbing length reposed on your cunt after spreading your legs wider. He couldn't hide his blush and looked at you with indefinite lust in his honey golden eyes. His hand cupped your knee and his other interlocked with yours. "Please? May I~? " He sounds so needy and probably will never back down no matter what. He wants to fill you in with his member. He wants to be inside of you. And yes, he's desperate.

In the corner of your eyes, you saw how big he was. You wondered if you could actually take it. Maybe it will destroy you, yet you cannot stop the greedy cat in front of you. Leaving you with no other choice, you nodded slowly —still not used to how things turned out this way. Bachira could never be much happier and slid his length inside of your tight wet slit slowly. He moaned and gasped as he entered, filling you in with his fat cock.

"Pull it out! It hurts! " He leaned closer, kissing your tears on your cheeks. "Shh.. It won't take long. I'll have you bouncing on me later~" Bachira completely ignored your whines as he started to move. He pulls and pushes deeply inside of you slowly, making you knit your brows and pained moans skid out from your mouth.

You can feel his hot member throb inside of you. "So fucking tight... God... You're so good.. My bunny~" His whimpers pivot closely next to your ears. His free hand creeped on your tit, teasing your hardened nipple. The sensation made you almost lose your mind, making you feel over the edge. His cock started to pick up the pace, kissing your cervix and hitting your g-spot. Your wet teary eyes blubbers, making lewd moans that you've never even heard before, then the pleasure starts to take over —the rush of dopamine makes you reach your second orgasm— you gasped and accidentally scratched his back with your nails.

"F-Fuck! Ah! S-Stop! "

He didn't pull out just yet, still hitting your abused pussy with a rapturous impale after cumming on his dick. A rim of your juices circles on his length—making him fasten his pace once more. Your chest is torn of your broken moans, which bubble up in whimpers and hiccups up on your throat. Your body isn't cooperating with you anymore, and the only sense you can summon is sufficient to repeat the single thought that is on your mind—Bachira. You moaned his name loudly, and your hips rolled with his. He grunts, letting out a whimper.

"Gonna fill you up with my kittens, yeah?...'M gonna fill you up inside~"

He held you closely to his chiseled chest—thrusting rapidly. Your head falls back, mouth hang open as his hips explode into you with the ferocity of a man possessed. He strikes that spot inside you. You felt his hot thick liquid buried inside of you as your legs trembled against his, your calves digging into his sides. Both of you catching your ragged breaths. He pulled his length out of your filled pussy with his cum—spilling out till it reached the foam.

"... That's bad... My bunny, you should take everything in! " He stammered before picking you up, carrying your tired body into a bridal style. He threw you in your bed, topping you with his hardened cock—rocking it slowly on top of your battered cunt. His sinister eyes didn't subside at all. He plants kisses on your stomach as he giggles—like a kid got to play with their favorite toy.

"My mate looks so pretty like this~" He lifted one of your legs and placed it on his shoulder. He nips at your inner thigh, marking you once more. You couldn't help but to moan after slipping his cock into your cum-filled pussy—sending overstimulating shocks to your body.

"Hngh.. It goddamn hurts… " You whimpered, panting, and composing your breath as he fucks you continuously—not stopping till dawn kiss your skin— molding your mound mercilessly into the shape of his inhumanely size cock. Your eyes rolled back, lips parting slightly as your tongue hangs out of your mouth. Carelessly creating loud flowing moans, frolically thrusting his dick in and out of you.

You voice out his name, babbling muffled whimpers about how good he is. In less than twenty minutes, he broke you entirely, and he's so pleased with himself. You're now topping him after he lifted you, enforcely shifting positions on the bed. His hands tightened around your hips, drawing you in as his hips moved. He continued to thrust at you quickly while continuing to kiss your cervix and stroke your g-spot. Despite your desperate attempts to regain your breath, you whimpered, shivered, and begged for more as you lay on the bed.

Soon afterward, he came to your exhausted pussy once more. His warm, creamy liquid filled you up again. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and all you could manage was a muffled whimper. As you attempt to form words, your lips twitch. He gave his best effort to comfort your broken body, licking and kissing your salty tears.

"My bunny, you're such a good girl… You're so good, ahh~… Let's have another round, shall we? "

When he was done talking, he grinned. His hands descend to your back and firmly grasp you, allowing his still-rock-hard dick to slide in.

#blue lock smut #bluelock x reader #bachira meguru #blue lock x you #bachira x reader #bachira smut #blue lock #i miss bachira #blue lock headcanons #im so horrendously down bad for him #this man istg

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