#kinda obsessed with the concept behind these guys

[saninmint]

happy indigo disk release day

here’s some creepy dudes from teal mask lol

[undisclosedproxy]

Possessive, obsessive, aggressive T.R T.N M.R

Summary: This will be a continued little series i will be writing. It’s an au on how Y/N has moved into a house with Theodore, Mattheo and Tom after they finished their schooling at hogwarts.(p.s this is kinda just an intro so give me suggestion on scenarios i should do!!) (My inspo is from this girl who made an Au called “new girl” or smth, if u see this girl ilysm) These three boys are all madly in love with her and they aren’t afraid to show it in all ways necessary, and Y/N? well she doesn’t mind being shared.

The soft wind of the morning sunrise blew through Y/N’s open window, causing her to slowly open her eyes with a soft groan at the change in temperature. One minute she had been cozy and warm, the next she was freezing. There had been a massive party last night at their usual homely manor; she could barely remember anything except dancing, sex, and drinking. Her head throbbed with pain as she slowly sat up, her body aching and her mind spinning. Her tired eyes scanned the room, feeling relieved when everything was clean, as usual. She sighed as she tried to run her fingers through her hair, only to meet large, painful knots. She couldn’t be bothered to deal with this yet; the sun hadn’t even risen, so she didn’t have to either. Y/N fell back onto her soft bed with a thump.

Her eyes snapped open when she heard loud pots and pans clattering downstairs. She knew instantly who it was—Tom. Why is this guy always so nonchalant, doing the most random things? She forced her tired body out of bed and practically dragged herself and her rats nest of hair to the kitchen, where he was currently attempting to clean the basically trashed manor.

”You’re awake.” he said dryly, his face as still and emotionless as usual.

Y/N’s brows furrowed in annoyance as she watched him clean up cups and trash from their sleek counters. He was dressed in his usual day attire—neither too casual nor too formal. Y/N always wondered how he was always so put together and organized. It was one of the reasons she adored him so much. He had been there for her when she felt like her life was falling apart, helping her piece it back together.

”You’re loud.” Y/N responded back with the same dry tone in her voice.

“Well I do sincerely apologise I have cleaning to do. You imbeciles trashed the manor.” Tom said in his monotone voice as he stood up straight to look Y/N in the eyes.

“Please just be quieter..” Y/N murmured as she flopped onto the large couch, Tom watched her from behind the counter, times like this is when he really enjoys the open concept of the manor, he can watch her do everything.

”I. am. sorry.” He said in a forced voice, Tom doesn’t apologise, he’s never apologised to anyone, expect Y/N. He has a special place for her in his heart, they all do, hence they all moved in together.

”mph” she murmured back already half asleep on the couch.

Tom walked over to the cupboard with long strides and grabbed a lancet from the top shelf and draped it over Y/N and kissed her forehead and let her rest.

2 and a half hours later

”Are you serious? you’re kicking me out?” An annoying loud female voice screeched from upstairs as her loud thumping stomps could be heard throughout the whole home.

”Not even a good morning? or making me breakfast?” she yelled angrily, obviously still pretty under the influence of the copious amounts of alcohol and drugs she did last night.

“Morni-” Mattheo started with a yawn as he came downstairs to a sleeping Y/N and a grumpy Tom.

”Shut up.” Tom huffed cutting him off.

”Why so angry dearest brother? You didn’t get any pussy last night?” Mattheo asked obviously just trying to get under Toms skin as much as he can.

”I do not indulge in those ludicrous activities you and Nott get into.” Tom said shoving a paper plate of a food that was unrecognisable into the trash bag he was holding, a grim look plastered onto his face.

”Speaking of those ludicrous activities, what is that god awful screeching emitting from Theodores quarters.” Tom said looking around in disgust as he assessed the progress of cleaning he had done.

”I have no idea what you just said.” Mattheo said standing in the middle of the open kitchen and living room awkwardly as he stared blankly at his brother.

”What? Are you-? Forget it. Go tell them to close their mouths, they’ll wake up Y/N.” Tom said glancing over Y/Ns sleeping figure that somehow hasn’t awakened from the squealing. Mattheo’s gaze softened at the sight, he was about to go upstairs but was interrupted.

“FUCK YOU THEODORE NOTT!” The girl screamed, finally shes revealed herself, she ran down the stairs wearing just a skimpy red thong as she bundled up her dark blue dress to her chest to cover her and use the last bit of decency she was holding on to.

Tom and Mattheo watched as the girl ran out of the manor angrily, still muttering rude words directed to Theodore. Theodore’s foot steps got louder as he came down the stairs quickly, he was wearing just boxers obviously he had an eventful night. He opened the door forcefully and threw her heels at her accidentally hitting her straight in the head.

”OUCH!” She screeched from outside.

Theodore sighed as he locked the door with a quick motion. He turned to everyone else, an amused and tired Mattheo, a grumpy Tom and a just woken up, confused Y/N.

”What?” Theodore asked confused as he stared blankly back at everyone.

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

Yandere Class 1-A X Reader — { PART 2 }: We’ve Got Company~

(Description: Titles are hard, okay? Please don’t shame me for how cheesy it is because I know it's corny LOL. But I make up for it with decent writing! I POPPED OFF with some of these parts.

We all know this by now, but it’s safe to say (Y/N) is too trusting of EVERYONE. The amount of people I keep making them blindly and wholly give their faith to is…concerning. I know you guys probably want them to fight back more, but it’s hard when I haven’t labeled them with a specified Quirk. I wanted to leave it up to you guys to give them the attributes they have in your minds without spoon-feeding you every single choice (Y/N) makes. Sooooo, it suffers a little bit with the repetitiveness of this constant back and forth getting pulled every which way. It’s also difficult when there are so many characters to cover.

I am not complaining about it though! I am extremely proud of this story and am very happy with the outcome. I just hope you guys love it as much as I do. Plusss, it’s kinda nice to imagine being a princess stolen away at every opportunity by handsome/gorgeous suitors teehee!)

Fanfiction Lingo

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(N/N) - Nickname

~

“Normal speech.”

‘Inner thoughts.’

~

Original Concept - [Mommabean’s OG Story] → Here

Part I - [My first addition] → Here

Part II → You’re here!

~

Reader Gender: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Style of Story: Sequel Oneshot // This story is a continuation of Momma’s Yandere Class 1-A Purge short story. I have written a previous part to this, so please check it out to understand what is happening!; Yandere Purge! If you don’t know what that is, go take a look at @yanderemommabean’s original works of it on her page, all is explained there; Many of MHA’s adults are included here, but I don’t want to spoil who exactly is in the story, so that is all you get so far~!

Word Count: 24K

WARNING(s): Swearing; physical fighting and threats (threats aren’t made at (Y/N), nor are they hurt beyond bruising); there is a brief mention of rape and sexual assault—it is not gone into heavily or in detail, but you need to know it is there; mental and emotional manipulation to the reader; bending of MHA’s storyline and the events currently happening (mainly regarding the setting, timeline, and people’s aliveness LMAO) to fit (Y/N) into the story but bear with me; some unrealistic interactions are going to happen in this fic because to get everyone together in a setting like this is near impossible; All of Class 1-A’s students are aged up to third years & everyone is 18 or older // I AM WRITING THEM AS IF THEY ARE IN CLASS 3-A NOW FYI!

[PLEASE NOTE: I DO NOT SUPPORT YANDERE TENDENCIES IN REAL LIFE!!! Do not confuse my writing this subject as encouraging it, there is a difference between reading/writing yandere stories V.S real-life situations. Please, if someone in your life is behaving like a character(s) in this story (i.e. obsessive, possessive, controlling, abusive, psychotic, sociopathic, LIKE A WACKADOO, etc.) get immediate help! That behavior in the real world is not romantic, sweet, or NORMAL! Stay aware, stay safe.]

~

Unable to leave without one final gloat, Shinsou turns back to smirk at the students, “All of you were wrong earlier, by the way. It’s me, dumbasses.”

Suddenly, a cocky voice chuckles from behind the mind-controlling boy, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that, kid~...”

As reluctant as Shinsou is to say this, a tiny shiver runs down his back. Coming from the busted-up entrance of the gymnasium, Aizawa’s voice rings out like a bell. Your current threat swivels around to face the intruder. Even though his recognizable voice is a dead giveaway, seeing him actually standing there in the rubble draws a sigh of relief out of you. You don’t know whether to cry, smile, or scream for his help; either way, it’s just a nice change of pace to see his usual disheveled appearance and relaxed stature. At least something has remained consistent on this hellish evening.

Though, something sensible clicks in your mind. Thinking back on all the strong-willed friends you lost in the fight against this disease, you realize there’s a strong chance that even your own teacher has fallen victim to its siren call. As much as you’d like to go running into his comforting embrace and wail about how horribly your classmates have been treating you the past few hours, you bite your tongue and stay complacent in Hitoshi’s arms. Not like you could voice many of your concerns with the makeshift gag still sat across your mouth.

“Damn,” Shinsou mutters to himself before perking up to meet his instructor's eye with a devious glint in his eye, “Mr. Aizawa. Good to see—,” Before the boy could finish his greeting, the stoic hero held up his hand, his palm facing Shinsou.

“Save the pleasantries. You’d think after all these years of one-on-one training you’d realize I can read you like an open book. Your expressions continue to give your intentions away too easily. So cut the crap.” Shinsou's false smile drops quicker than it appeared. Aizawa leisurely waltzes into the room, closing in on the both of you.

Aizawa continues his analysis with a sigh, “And I wouldn’t try that little gimmick with me. I’m not like my students over there,” he vaguely points behind the two of you to the group.

“I’m your mentor. All the tricks you have up your sleeve are hardly even interesting choices to me anymore. I should know, I taught them all to you, after all.” He chuckled to himself.

“Did you come here just to nag my ear off about how you’re so much better than me, or because you have something actually important to say? ‘Cause, if it's the former, I can’t stay and chat. I’ve got some pretty precious cargo in my hands at the moment.” Shinsou brags, hoisting you further up into his arms, forcing a garbled complaint from you.

“Watch your tone, brat.” Aizawa glares at the snarky comeback his student possessed. Hm. So, Hitoshi thinks he’s hot shit because he won against a handful of decently strong opponents? Well, that’s just fine. He’s used to putting cocky bastards in their place.

“I’ve come to offer you a deal of sorts. We can either speak about it rationally, or,” he shines a leering grin, “I can use my quirk on you, and you can say goodbye to the hold you have over your classmates right now. How do you think you’d fare against 19 pissed-off pro heroes?” This time, you can actually feel Shinsou shutter at the sinister tone your teacher leans into. His reaction makes sense. The idea of irrational, infected, superhuman, edgy teens hunting you down fighting isn’t a pleasant one. Not just one of them either, a whole damn fleet of them. You’d be shaking in your boots too.

“Since I’m nice, I’ll let you decide,” Aizawa has a bored look on his face again as he runs a hand through the inky mop of hair atop his head. A few seconds lurch by before Shinsou caves.

“Fine, old-timer. I’ll hear you out.” Shinsou reluctantly agrees. He knows he could take on a few of them at once in combat, but as soon as the heavy hitters join the fight—it’ll be over. He’d much rather join forces with his instructor than be betrayed by the greedy moochers residing in his class. Shinsou knows that if some of them had the chance, they’d steal you with no hesitation or regret. He’ll just have to sit and see what the idea Aizawa wants to propose is.

The two of them walk towards each other. A meeting held face-to-face in the middle of the gymnasium.

“I should honestly reprimand you guys for how shittily you’ve treated (L/N) this evening. It’s absurd how ragged you’ve been running them. Absolutely unacceptable. Maybe I should even expel the lot of you after the Purge ends.” Wait, Aizawa could see you too? What, is your peril being broadcasted on live television for the world to see or something?!

“Hey, don’t lump me with those barbarians,” Shinsou pulled back in a look of grievance, “I waited until everything was calm to strike. They were the ones who made (Y/N) run around like a headless chicken.” He tossed his head back to the hypnotized horde.

“Hm. We’ll discuss it as a class later.” Aizawa coughs into his fist.

“Fine. Now, what’s this deal you’ve thought up?” Shinsou prompts the conversation.

“Right. It’s about—,” Aizawa is interrupted by his cautious student.

“(Y/N). Am I right?” Shinsou jumps to the conclusion rather abruptly.

Aizawa glares, “Don’t interrupt someone while they’re talking, Shinsou. It’s rude.”

“But you did that to me not ev—,”

“Do as I say, not as I do,” Aizawa purposefully cuts him off, “And yes. It’s about them.”

“Hmph,” Shinsou narrows his eyes at the mention of you, “what do you want with them?”

“Not quite the right question. Change that to more like what can we do for them,” Aizawa twists the words to better fit his narrative.

Intrigued, Hitoshi takes the bait, “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is I don’t want to outright take them from you,” he shifts his weight to the other foot, “I want to make a deal to share them with you.”

Shouta continues, “Aoyama and his group had a good idea teaming up with Izuku’s crew. Working together, especially when the stronger piers can aid the weaker links, is a much more productive way of going about things. There’s safety in numbers.” Your body freezes up at his words. You connect the dots that he heard, or possibly even saw that whole ordeal. How? Where was he viewing from? Did he watch on a security camera? It’s a likely theory, the school is littered with them. You thought Denki killed the power earlier with his quirk. Or, with a more chilling idea, was he actually there? Physically in the vicinity? How was he nearby, could hear and see the whole event, and you didn’t notice him? Why didn’t he help you? Or, at least, intervene? Your mind is muddled with questions, but the two press on with their conversation.

“Sharing, huh? Thought you liked working alone.” Shinsou prodded, skeptical of the plan.

“Some missions call for an extra set of hands.” Aizawa cooly replied.

“I’m not sure. Not too big on the idea of letting go of them.” Shinsou pulled your bundled-up form closer to his chest. It’s like he’s a little kid—red in the face because of frustration, fighting to keep his stuffie all to himself as an adult asks him to share it with the other kids.

“I’m not asking you to fully let go of them, kid. Just enough so I can take care of them too. They’re a bit of a handful, as I’m sure you’ve no doubt figured out by now,��� you whip your head to scowl at him and heatedly shout muffled curses at him, “Heh. My bad, kitten, but it’s true. The trouble your presence kicks up is a lot to handle, even for a pro.” You feel your face heat up in embarrassment at his words. Not that it wasn’t obvious before, but it’s safe to say he is infected as well.

“Plus, what will you do when you can’t control the rest of the students? You and I both know that your quirk doesn’t last forever, and your control is slowly dwindling away, even as we speak. I could help you fend them off, if it comes to it.” Shouta observed. He has a natural way of being extremely persuasive, doesn’t he?

Shinsou isn’t exactly thrilled to give you up, he’d much rather stake his claim on you by himself. His company should be more than enough to fill your time! He doesn’t want time with you to be shared with others he doesn’t approve of. Though…Aizawa isn’t exactly untrustworthy. Hitoshi definitely trusts him more than someone as hazardous as Bakugo, or as miserable to be around as Monoma. He’s a great teacher, even though he’s kind of a hardass. Someone he looks up to. Maybe they could give it a shot? After all, if it doesn’t work out, there’s still plenty of Purge time left for him to find somewhere else to hide and drag you off to when Aizawa isn’t looking.

“Okay. We’ll give your idea a go.” Shinsou begrudgingly complied.

“Good choice, kid.” Aizawa’s lips twitch upward into a minuscule grin. Yet again, your own fate is taken away from you as the two of them close in, grasp hands, and shake to signify the agreement.

“Ooohhh~! What a touching truce, cuties~,” a sugary-sweet voice curls around the boys’ conversation like a hazy morning fog.

“Huh—!” Shinsou isn’t fast enough to react to the intruder as he feels all his senses numb. A dreadfully sweet smell, the same kind of sugary tang that was laced throughout the woman’s voice, invades his nose. It should be disgusting, it should make him sick to his stomach, but the candied scent is nothing short of divine. It’s like nothing he's ever smelled before. It honestly makes him want to inhale more. Which is an action he subconsciously commits, sealing his fate. Shinsou’s legs grow wobbly as he starts to lose feeling all over his body. As unpleasant as he wants it to feel, as he begs it to feel, all he can recognize is a cozy warmth clouding his better judgment. Through the mental and physical struggle, he remembers you’re still sitting prettily in his swiftly weakening arms. He panics, afraid he’s going to, or that he has already dropped you. He glances down.

Well…you used to be there. You’re not anymore.

Shinsou groans, crashing to his knees. He scans the surrounding floor, looking for any trace of you, but you’re nowhere to be found. Good news is he didn’t drop you like an idiot. Bad news is someone else has their disgusting hands all over you. That thought makes him want to pick off his own flesh cell by cell, but there’s nothing he can do except lay on the ground and reluctantly drift in and out of consciousness.

“Too bad you’re not as lovely as our sweetheart here. Otherwise, you’d be my plaything too~,” the woman giggles, “But, oh well. Pleasant dream, honey~,” she coos at the purple-haired boy. You’re beyond floored at how quickly Shinsou was subdued, considering the quick work he made of the other students. Curious as ever, you shot your head back and forth to identify who stole the show this time.

The owner of the saccharine voice turned out to be none other than Midnight, your art history and overly-sexual pro hero mentor. She giggles to herself, watching her prey twitch and squirm in retaliation against her quirk on the floor, “While struggling normally is my favorite part of the foreplay, I wouldn’t advise it this time, dear~. Somnambulist isn’t easy to win against. It’s a much more potent sleep agent than your little quirk could ever dream of being.”

“Love that energy, Midnight! Smooth work,” a boisterous voice slices through your eardrums. You cringe at the volume, recognizing that borderline shriek. The person who is now capturing your body is Present Mic! What the hell are all three of your teachers doing here?! Shouldn’t they be like normal people and hide from the Purge?

As if reading your mind, Aizawa coughs to grab his coworkers’ attention, “That was completely unnecessary of you two. A little excessive too. I told you both I could handle the situation on my own. What’re you doing here?”

“Jeez! So cold!” Mic’s voice danced up and down in pitch, “Don’t be so frosty with us, Eraser! We just wanted to help!”

“Yes,” Midnight purred, the click click of her skyscraper-length stilettos stabbing the shellacked ground echoed across the rubble-covered floor, “you think us so shallow! You act as if we thought you couldn’t take care of this, dear. All we believed was it’s nice to have some support on the field, yes~?”

Aizawa, always as sharp as a knife, caught onto their plan effortlessly, “You two just couldn’t wait to get your grubby hands on them, could you?” The two opposing teachers choked on the air in their lungs as he saw through their lies. They fumbled the next few words that streamed out of their mouths, trying desperately through the stutters to justify their cause and deter his wit.

“I see. Hmm…whatever. Either way, you two never fail to overdo it,” Aizawa grumbles to himself, his chin sinking further into the comfort of his scarf, “I guess I’ll need some assistance dealing with the rest of my students over there. They won’t remain hypnotized for much longer now that Shinsou’s down—I’d rather not have to start a physical fight when there’s no need.”

“Oooh~,” Midnight purred, slinking over to the slowly reawakening crowd, “leave this to me, loves~!” The woman proceeded to unleash another plum of her drunkening quirk right as the class snapped out of their haze. You watched as they fell one by one to the floor in sudden exhaustion. Even the strong-willed one couldn’t escape the fate of her noxious gas, dropping limply to the floor in a dreamless slumber.

“Aww, they’re so sweet when they’re not getting in our way.” Mic snickered.

“Mic. Watch it,” Aizawa’s laid-back indifference swiftly shifted into his scary steely gaze as he warned his rambunctious coworker to stop his prattling.

“Whaaaat~??? You gotta admit, your hooligans sure made our night a lot harder!” Hizashi pouted in frustration.

‘When am I gonna catch a break from these…these…wait. What…the…,’ your thoughts slowly lose their path in your head, your mind-numbing and slipping away from coherent ideas. Your limbs feel like the thickest cement in the world when you try to move them. It’s too tough, too much work—and sleeping sounds like a fantastic idea. You’re just so tired. You start to heave for oxygen as if your lungs can never get enough air inside of them. You’re trying so hard to stay awake because you know in the back of your brain as delicious as stopping your fighting to rest sounds, something doesn’t feel right. You can’t remember why. Eventually, it becomes too difficult to keep your head up on your own, so you rest it against Mic’s open shoulder.

Hizashi immediately stops bickering against the stoic man in front of him as he feels your head plop onto his shoulder. Now that his attention is drawn back to you, he realizes you weren’t squirming around as much as he’d expected you to. He knows even past the lingering virus flooding his veins you wouldn’t give in to their advances so easily—as nice as that would have been—so he devotes all his attention to your slumped frame.

“Hey, you alright, doll?” he cranes his head down to catch your unfocused eyes. He jostles the shoulder you were resting on a bit, trying to reel you back from wherever your mind had floated off to, and that seemed to help a little. You tried to talk, but the gag prevented any words from coming out. Catching the barrier, he beckoned his partner in crime over with a quick tilt of his head and a quiet, “Help me get this thing off their mouth, Shouta.”

Without hesitation, your concerned homeroom teacher stepped over and peeled off the tape as gently as he could. Your mouth now freed, you let out an unconscious whine of relief, showing a small bit of happiness at having some bit of freedom back.

“What did you say, sweets?” Mic pressed yet again.

“Mmhn…I…uhm…mmm…nnh,” you mindlessly babbled in a soft voice.

“Come on, (Y/N). How do you feel right now?” Aizawa coaxed, his worry over you hiking higher at your unresponsiveness.

“Hmmm…just…tired…I think…mnnn,” Your eyes couldn’t stay open. They opted to flutter close every time no matter how much Mic shimmed around in an attempt to keep you conscious.

“Tired. Hizashi—Midnight’s quirk.” Aizawa said as he caught Hizashi’s fear-filled gaze. Both of their anxiety floated back down at the deduction. You must’ve breathed in too much of the secondhand smoke of the pro hero’s quirk. After all, it is quite potent against those who haven’t experienced it much before. Mic’s jostling changed into more of a rocking motion, trying to lull you further into that blissful rest.

“Ohhhh. Honeycakes! That’s okay—it’s perfectly fine if you need some rest. It’s been a tough day for our snuggle bunny,” he uttered, affectionately nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.

“I heard you say my name, Eraser. What’s…oh!” Midnight stopped her sentence when her eyes fell on you. Then, all she could do was squeal at the sight of your sleepy state. She shoved Aizawa out of the way, bent down to your level, and squeezed herself as close to you as she could. She was giggling and chirping in delight at how “adorable” and “absolutely, irresistibly, undeniably cute” you were.

“Awwwwhn~~~!!!” her voice curled up in pitch, her fingers smoothing your loose hairs behind your ear and stroking down your warm cheek, “You are just the sweetest lil’ thing~!! Mommy’s precious angel~. What’s happened, Zashi?” Midnight tilted her gaze up to the blond for an explanation.

He grinned, “Just breathed too much of your quirk in, s’all.”

Midnight loftily snickered, “I see. Glad we were here to take care of them!” In all honesty, she’s beyond pleased that out of any one of her coworkers, her quirk affected you the most. In a way, she saw that as she had the most influence on you—or, in other words, the most power over you. In her eyes, she saw it as you giving yourself to her. Willingly and unafraid. Midnight’s heart is cartwheeling and running laps because she sees this as you caring about her so much that you’d serve her in such a magnificent way. She could eat you up and still be searching for seconds. You’re just perfect for her in every way, shape, and form. Aizawa’s nagging drags her out of her less than innocent desires over you filling her head.

“You need to be more careful about how much of your quirk you release in the future, Midnight.” Aizawa scolds, but scorn is practically nonexistent in his voice. It’s hard to be angry at the effects you’ve been put under when the outcome makes you look so helplessly cute. He’d never admit it, but he’s envious of her quirk, when it can turn you so easily into this version of yourself. The dilated, doe-eyed look your eyes hold as they drift up to see him makes the words die a little in his throat. Perhaps the lecture he was going to give her can wait a little.

“Ahh, I will, Eraserhead. But first, we should head off for that safe spot we arranged with the others.” Midnight commented towards the men while still keening over your dopey state.

“W…Wait,” you grumbled out in a meek voice, “noo…no. I d-don’t…,” your words fell off into babbling mumbles again. It was torture to try and evade her quirk’s effects like this, but you were steadfast in wanting to fight. To flee their unwanted embrace and be alone. But all they did was coo at your brave efforts. Oh, they knew just the perfect things to say to make you feel like you were a mere baby to them. How inadvertently insulting.

“Ssh shh shh~. Awh, I know, honey~. You just feel so tired~,” Midnight sang in a baby-talk tone of voice, brushing the top of your head with the palm of her hand. It was weird, you couldn’t figure out if she saw you as her child or prey. Maybe both. That scares you. Maybe you don’t want to find out any more.

“Don’t worry, sweetie! We’ve got you,” though less scary than the woman currently pinning you, Mic’s mischievous lilt of tone didn’t skate by your observative nature. His eyes seem…darker than when you’d looked at them during one of his happy-go-lucky lectures. Like he was hiding the truth of his words behind a cobweb-like veil of deceit. In fact, Mic was resembling a conniving spider—which made you the ditzy butterfly falling for his web of a trap.

Lethargic and thoroughly worn out from both her quirk and all the running you’ve done, you finally give up. Your body feels warm and tingly, making sleep all the easier to give in to. As darkness flooded your vision and your consciousness finally dove away, Aizawa’s voice filled your ears, “See you soon, (Y/N).”

~ Timeskip ~

Sick. That’s all you felt as the darkness that consumed your thoughts and vision slowly faded. Sick to your stomach. Aching all over. You felt like you were a flimsy shirt thrown into a clothes dryer and left to spin over and over again for three cycles too long.

You tilted your head a bit and promptly groaned at the wave of nausea that swamped your brain. Such a subtle movement caused your whole world to crash sideways into an abysmal painscape. It was like you were zipping around on the shittiest, most rickety roller coaster you’d ever rode. You wanted nothing more than to get off.

All this to say—ow. What the fuck, brain? Why do you hurt me so? That’s all your mind could conjure up at the moment—insults to your own organs—because it hurts too much to think rationally. That was one hell of a shitty rest. It has to be one of the top five worst naps you’ve ever taken. You’ll have to whine about it to Denki after class today, maybe you’ll get some sympathy candy for your brave efforts. Denki…why does it feel like something important happened that he was a part of? Hmm…you can’t put your finger on it right now. Everything’s too drowsy at the moment for logic to be considered. Your eyes are still begrudgingly shut as you twist your torso around, trying to get comfortable again.

That’s the moment you started to become more aware of the outside world around you. Noises of chatter hung in the air like a nagging mosquito. The more you paid attention to the continuous sounds, the more irritating they became. Who was talking so damn much, and why were they making it your problem? Couldn’t they see you were a sick person in need of some goddamn peace and quiet? But, that’s just Class 3-A life, you suppose. None of them ever know when to shut the fuck up. Well, this time, they’d learn! They’d get a piece of your “hungover” mind.

“Oi…,” you grunted out, a snarl vehemently leaking into your tone, “Can’t you guys pipe down?! I’m sorta in the middle of trying to sleep off a nasty headache.”

Maybe your words stung the culprits a bit too much as you heard the room slow to a deathlike silence. No blistering insults were flung back at you from the resident hellhound of Class 3-A Bakugou, no chortles from the jokesters of the bunch, no profuse apologies from the worrywarts—nothing. Just…silence. I mean, you guess that’s the result you wanted; but the tense atmosphere you created is rapidly making you regret your flippant decision.

The encroaching fear made your mind real back to the very moment you woke up. You began rational plotting out the questions that swarmed your mind like hornets to their nest. Wait, where were you again? What time is it? Why do you feel so ill? Why can’t your brain remember what the date is? Something really important was happening before you passed out related to time…passed out. Hold on—that’s right, you passed out!

What the fuck.

You passed out due to what—no…due to who?

Unease finally getting the better of you, you peeped up again, but presenting a much meeker tone this time, “U-Um…guys? Look, I’m…God, I’m sorry for lashing out. I just—my head hurts like hell, I’m sore all over my everywhere, and I don’t know what’s—haannhh…ow, ow, ouch.” As you spewed out the poorly constructed apology, you steadily sat up from whatever hard surface you’d been resting on. The stiff rest stop made you all that more unnerved; it sort of felt like you were on a metal autopsy table. Cold and jarring. As if you were a poor little frog being dissected for all the insatiably curious students to see. It made you want to be swallowed whole by the floor just to escape the distress of the situation. God damnit, why is it still so hard to open your eyes?! They felt like the heaviest slab of lead welded over your eyelids. You forced them open.

Overlooking the blurriness of your vision, you could immediately tell by the general shape of the people standing in front of you that you weren’t in the presence of your beloved classmates like you thought you were.

There were multiple people in the darkened room, all with varying heights and sizes. There weren’t twenty people like how many there are in your class; their numbers were closer to ten or so. Plus, the colors of their outfits didn’t match with your friends’ hero suits you’d come to be extremely familiar with. However, you did recognize the colors and remembered who they belonged to. The answer chilled you to the bone.

You didn’t speak up again in the presence of most, if not all of, your mentors. Yes, your mentors. The adults you interacted with practically every day; who taught you every tactic you knew, who helped you to become a capable hero in the pro world. In fact, you didn’t just not talk, you slumped into yourself a bit. You were afraid. Scratch that—you were beyond afraid. You’d seen, and fought, firsthand against their wrath before. You’ve watched their fights broadcasted on the television, through shaky personally caught videos on the Internet posted by petrified civilians. You’ve worked alongside a few of them through missions and treacherous situations. Hell, you actually battle against one for the right to earn your hero license! That was a tough day, but you’d made it by the skin of your teeth—more than likely only winning because of the unimaginably heavy weights that shackled them as handicaps. In short, they were barbaric beasts on the field. Now…you’re face-to-face with their rage.

Let’s all send a brief prayer for yourself. Maybe your death will be swift and your afterlife pleasant if you beg hard enough.

“My, my, my~,” a sultry voice sang in your right ear, making you shriek at the intrusion of your personal bubble, “such a naughty-mouthed little pet~! Tell me, what brute taught you to speak to your superiors in such a disrespectful way?” It was Midnight again. She was always one to breach your boundaries, whether you wanted her to or not.

She cupped your jaw with one of her hands, pinching and squeezing your gooey cheeks with the other for her pleasure, “Ooooh, precious! How’s your whittle head~?” she cooed while smushing. She wiped away a small bit of drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth, making you feel that much more like a ditzy baby. The way she played with you really did remind you of a child messing around with a delicious treat of springy mochi. Perhaps that was what you were to the ravenous woman, a delicacy to be devoured whole. You shivered in fear again.

Another person from across the room let out a high-pitched whistle, one that indicated astonishment or feeling impressed, “Wow! Brat’s got some spunk to ‘em! Good to know they haven’t switched up since we last spoke.” You weren’t as familiar with that voice as you were with your homeroom teachers, but it did strike a chord in your memory. Their youthful cheer didn’t resemble the dread-filled boredom Aizawa’s held, but they didn’t sound crude enough to be another student. Your vision clearing further was the only thing that gave their mystery identity away. It was Power Loader! It feels like forever since the two of you even acknowledged one another. Either way, he’s here now and fully decked out in his hero gear. The heavy equipment gave you a unique foreboding feeling that his abilities weren’t just all that meets the eye.

“Midnight, step aside, please.” A mellow voice takes control of the conversation. Midnight looks over her shoulder in disdain, as if the very notion of her being politely asked to leave your side is the most disrespectful thing someone could have asked her to do, but it seems that whoever popped the question meant real business. She stepped aside with a huff of frustration, mumbling under her breath curses, and something along the lines of ‘the gall’.

Once she moved, the requester hopped onto the table where you sat. They pushed into your personal space as well. You opted to lean back as much as the encroacher would allow you. From the astronaut-resembling helmet that donned their head and the puffy jacket they wore, you came to the obvious conclusion that this was 13, another member of the faculty here at UA.

She moved your head—left to right, up and down, and in a full circle. She checked all around the front of your body, and basically anywhere that you allowed her to get close to. 13 looked back deeply into your eyes before twisting back to face the bunch, “They don’t appear to be physically hurt on the outside. No scrapes, cuts, sprains, or anything broken. All that I could really deduct was their dilated pupils, meaning the effects of Somnambulist are still present,” 13 whirled forward to you, “Feeling at all hazy, woozy, or tired, (Y/N)?”

You simply stared back at the expressionless black mask 13 wore. You didn’t know what to say—half because you were uncomfortable at how close she was, and half because you were still bracing yourself to get your ass beat by the less merciful of the teachers. Your mind is drawing to blanks as you’re frozen with your jaw left hanging open.

“(Y/N)?” 13 snaps her fingers in front of your face, semi-dragging you out of your tizzy, “Hello? How are you feeling, dear?”

Ignoring the uncalled-for nickname, you wobbled your head about to snap out of whatever stupor you were stuck in, “Aaaah…um…good. I think. Still…vision’s still a bit blurry, head’s kinda fuzzy, but it’s okay. I can’t really feel my legs yet, I guess.” You tried kicking your feet back and forth, and while you could see them sway, you didn’t feel the sensation of your tendons pulling the limbs.

“Alright, that’s okay.” 13 dismounts the desk to face the crowd, “They’ll be fine. Just give their system time to recover from the grogginess. Next time, Midnight, go easier with how much of your toxins you release! They could’ve gotten severely hurt if they inhaled too much.” 13 scolds the tall woman.

Midnight scoffs, “Ugh! Why, I would never intentionally hurt my love bug like that! I swear, you act like I haven’t been controlling my quirk for my whole life!”

“Midnight, we have to set an example for our students, and lying isn’t how we do that. You should acknowledge you do go overboard sometimes,” craggy words tumbled through Midnight’s attempt to save her ass. Off to her side is the stony fortress of a hero, Cementoss, the one who spoke against her. While he is a man (or is he a rock? You’re not too sure even after all these years being a student under him) of few words, he does have the occasional snarky comeback in his vocabulary when he isn’t prattling off haikus and other unheard of analogies for life’s troubles you haven’t heard before. You’re pretty sure that half of what he says is made up on the spot, and you’ve occasionally tested how far you could push his knowledge before by asking him tough questions like “What is the meaning of life?” or “How did the universe come into being?”.

Before Midnight could pulverize the stone man into pebbles, the final guest you could see hanging in the back of the room piped up, “Can we please stop fumbling around like nimrods and get back to the matter at hand?” Inky, sludgy, and methodical in his dialect, it was no shock that its owner was the shadowy hero known to you as Ectoplasm. You’d interacted with him even less than the others, but you weren’t oblivious to his strength. You’d seen the fight between Tsu and Tokoyami against this predator, and you are happy to admit that he wasn’t your enemy on the field that day.

After briefly scanning the room once more, it seemed that everyone who was there had spoken up. Well, except for Aizawa and Present Mic, they seemed to be having a private conversation with themselves. Glances they threw in your direction, no matter how embarrassingly obvious Mic was being or the tenuousness of Aizawa’s, made it hard to ignore their scalding stares. It was borderline disturbing to see Mic so stationary. You wished he’d stop freaking you out and start yelling in your face like he always does. At least that would be one thing that hadn’t changed with the Purge.

“Precisely. Where were we? Please remind us, Ectoplasm.” Cementoss, equally over the distractions going on, encouraged the conversation forward.

“We were talking about our options. What to do for the rest of the Purge. How to proceed with the plan.” he spoke as if it was the most obvious thing that could have been explained. Plan? What plan was he talking about?

“‘Listen, we’ve gone ‘round and ‘round with these ideas for over an hour now,” HUH?!?! EXCUSE YOU, BUT WHAT DID HE SAY?! There was no time to stop their conversation to ask if Power Loader was or wasn’t exaggerating the time that had passed as he pushed on, “Why can’t we just go? I’m starting to get claustrophobic in this room.”

“What, and storm out here with no strategy? Yeah, that’s the best idea we’ve heard tonight.” Aizawa finally tossed his opinion into the ring and—surprise, surprise—it’s another gripe.

“We do have a plan—and a solid one at that! I just said it’s all we’ve been discussing ever since we stepped foot into this bloody room!” Power accused.

“No,” 13 cut in, “the plan you’re talking about is the one we’ve fine-tuned to get out of the school. What Eraser’s referring to is what we’re going to do once we leave the school grounds.” She stepped over to you while giving her speech and wipes your face down with a damp, cool towel. You’re not sure where she dispensed it from, but you supposed that since she specializes in search and rescue missions, she’s bound to have supplies of the like to help in stressful situations built into her hero suit.

“Easy! We run and gun our way out until we find a safe spot! A simply perfect plan. Okay? Let’s go.” Power said with finality.

“For being a seasoned pro, you’re much too antsy. You’re rushing this operation. If you keep sprinting through the important discussions, there will be major consequences.” Cementoss threatened. Power scoffed at the man’s slightly pretentious behavior.

“Think about it,” 13 tried to reason, “There are hundreds of pro heroes out there. Half infected, half not—give or take a handful. For however many pros around out there, there are at least six times as many civilians out there who are either running for their freedom or others who are trying to take that from their darlings. It is too risky to bring them out into a world like that.” Them? Hold on, do they mean you?! No way in hell are you being taken out into the shit storm that the big city has become! You’ve seen how the Purge demolishes the city in years prior. You saw what the news predicted it would be like tonight. Chaos. Pure chaos filled with dangerous, virus-infected people and villains simply trashing the place because they are able. You came into the school to seek shelter in one of the safe rooms to avoid the city, and they want to bring you into it? They can’t do this to you! Have they completely lost it?

Well, you knew that much, but still!

“He’s right, though,” Present Mic finally spoke up from his unusual voicelessness, “We can’t stay here all night waiting for some miracle to spring up. We’ve gotta take some action.” His shoulders buckled inward to show his agitation.

“And no one is saying that we will stay, Mic.” Cement’s sensible attitude never fails to shine through the stress of a tough discussion.

“But you are saying that. You know it…because you’re afraid. We all are afraid.” Mic grabbed everyone's attention because of how softly his words came out.

“I mean, we all know who exactly is out there,” Mic somberly stood and walked over to your side. You wanted to shimmy away from how close he got, but you chose to sit still to hear what else he had to say, “It’s not an if or maybe situation—he is looking for them. Maybe staying in the school has some perks. At least here he can’t get to them without breaking down a few thick walls.” At Mic’s dreadful outlook, everyone’s prepared responses fell into stifling silence. Who is he talking about? Why do you feel a shiver scaling up your spine at the faceless adversary? All this anticipation is going to make you go insane for real this time.

“It’s true. But UA isn’t safe either. We’re not alone and we aren’t the only ones in this building who’re interested in them. Those confounding kids of yours are still around, Aizawa.” Ectoplasm countered. Finally finding the place in the conversation where you can speak, you took your chance.

“Are you talking about the rest of my class?” you breathed out. The teachers spun their heads to give you their full attention. It creeped you out—their devotion to hearing you speak as if it was gospel—but you guess this virus is handy when you need to grab the attention of a bustling room.

“Glad you can still find your voice, sweets.” Mic praised you with a gentle pat on the top of your head. A total switch up from his gloomy personality just prior.

“And, yes, we are.” Ectoplasm sighed, sending one of his clones to your side. The clone didn’t do much except lay their hand on your head and brush your hair back, “They've proven to be quite…driven in their resolve to keep you by their sides.”

“Meaning they’re being a real pain in our—,” Mic’s interrupted by Aizawa’s scarf strangling the bottom half of his face to cease the loud man’s babbling.

“Hmmn, you guys take everything so personally,” Midnight bemoaned, propping her spike-heeled shoes against the side of one of the many desks around, “the children are just playing together, ‘is all! In fact, they’re making this night much more fun for me hehe~.” You cringed, and the only word running through your mind was ‘creepy.’

“Yes. Be kind, Mic. They haven’t been a bother for some time now.” Cementoss spoke with a grateful tone of voice.

“Well, it’s no wonder they haven’t been.” Power Loader huffed while resting his body back onto a nearby table.

“What do you mean?” you asked. You shifted up further to give the conversation your full attention. Once you were up, a slight tightness on your wrists captured your distracted brain. You glanced down and saw binding on your wrists. They were bound with tape. Tape…oh! That’s right! You were taped up by Sero before this shit show happened! You scanned your body up and down and didn’t see any of his tape around anything but your hands. It’s gone from your mouth too since you can speak to the teachers. You guess you’re thankful that they at least gave you the freedom to wiggle your legs around. Nonetheless, you’re still unforgivable-level mad at them for being dicks and holding you hostage.

“He means that ever since Shinsou caught them under his hypnosis, and Midnight leaked her Somnambulist to put them under, they’ve been sound asleep in the gymnasium.” Ectoplasm’s words curl up like a snake wrapping around its helpless prey. You feel less comforted by Ecto’s clone lovingly stroking your head now. That means no one else has been looking for you ever since Aizawa, Mic, and Midnight took you. Goody gumdrops.

“Yea’,” a new, twangy voice plucks into the conversation, “and it seems they ain’t rearin’ up again for some time.” It echoed from the entrance of the room a few feet ahead of your spot by the windows, so you craned your neck to the side to see past the teachers blocking the way.

His foreign accent was a big hint, but if there was any confusion as to who exactly was speaking, his masked appearance confirmed his identity. Snipe was perched against the door frame, slacked back against the wooden frame, and bending his knee to rest one of his spurred cowboy boots on the frame as well. Since when did he get there? You don’t recall seeing him when you scanned the room earlier. What was even more surprising was that on the other side of the doorframe rested Vlad King, Class 3-B’s homeroom teacher. You watched him side-eye his coworkers and, opposite to the rest, he stayed silent. Quiet, analytical. You haven’t interacted with him as much as you have with the others since he’s not one of your main teachers, but you’re certain from the way he and Aizawa have this sort of one-sided rivalry going on between them that he’s not one to be taken lightly.

“Hey, hey, hey,” barked Present Mic, “what are you two doing in here? You’re supposed to be guarding the door!”

“We decided to come in when we heard you lot yappin’. Wanted to see if our blossom was alright.” Okay, these corny nicknames were getting to be a little much—and it was becoming hard to not laugh at them when Snipe’s Western country-ass voice tried to say it so seriously.

“Yeah, right. You just wanted to see them.” Power Loader grumbled on his lonesome. Jealous much?

“Great, the peanut gallery’s all here.” you chuckled to yourself. Honestly, it was a smartass remark that was only meant for your ears to hear, but you should’ve known better than to mutter in the presence of such high-profile, analytical, pro heroes.

“Watch your tone, (L/N). I’ve taught you better than to speak to your superiors like that.” Aizawa’s steely gaze came to life, an intimidating red glow directly pointed your way. His mop of bushy, black hair billowing up to dangle in midair. It drifted about like a bed of kelp swaying with the brush of the ocean’s currents. All the built-up energy you didn’t realize was coursing through your veins came to a staggering halt, The strength permeating your limbs immediately drained. You’ve been under the influence of Aizawa’s quirk before when you were caught in the mix of his frustrations at the pranksters of your class, so this wasn’t an unexplored feeling, but it was still jarring to be stripped of all your powers you so flippantly take for granted.

As you looked around, you realized your statement was wrong—not all of the teachers were there. Not apologizing for telling the truth, you continued your comments as though Aizawa had never threatened you, “Ixnay that—not everyone's here. Where’s the rest of them?” Aizawa sighed and released you from the hold of his power when he realized you were simply ignoring his wrath. Honestly? He tips his hat to you for the response. Avoiding confrontation is sometimes the best course of action.

“Huh? Oh! Ha ha, you’re so clever! We brought it up briefly to the other staff members but—,” Power Loader had begun, but he was soon interrupted.

“They either had no interest or were busy with other plans for the Purge.” Vlad finally spoke up from his dark corner. Right, you remember why you don’t speak to him all that often. He scared the living shit out of you. At least you can have a somewhat decent conversation with Aizawa. With Vlad King, it’s always cold-shoulders and overdramatic frustration to simple questions you ask him. Those brief few words reeked such deadly poison, as if saying that anyone could ignore you was a crime against humanity. His facial expression showed his irritation, a frown stretching down his worn features and a frustrated crinkle cut between his eyebrows.

“Thanks. I was in the middle of getting to that.” Power snarked at the behemoth hero.

“We asked All Might if he wanted to come along with us,” 13 chirped, “but he declined as well. We don’t know exactly where he is, but he’s around.”

“Yeah! Not to mention how he responded! Something like,” Mic made his voice stretch lower into his register with a profound, macho gusto, and a large smile—an All Might smile—grew on his lips, ""HA HA! I appreciate the offer, friends, but I will be alright on my own! Good luck to you! I am off!”, and ran off to who knows where. Weird!”

“You guys never let me say the important parts of the stories.” Power scowled to himself.

“Gotcha,” you acknowledged the length of explanation, “So…what happens now?” you prodded.

“Now,” Midnight coos at a distance that is yet again too close for comfort, “we get to have fun with you~.”

“WHAT?! I’m not some class pet. Find a guinea pig somewhere else!” you wriggled away from the dastardly woman.

“Endearing how much control you think you have over the situation,” Aizawa smirked. You hated his comfort in the idea of a fictional complacency, one that was only caused by your own fear of speaking against them, “Stop playing naive, (L/N).”

In an effort to distract yourself from his stare, you pressed, “What’s the big plan after all this then?”

“After what, dearest?” Midnight mused. She reached a hand to your hair and softly massaged your shoulders. Quite done with the games they played, you shook her lingering touches off.

“After the Purge is over. What do you plan to do with me?” You wanted to add a sassy ‘obviously’ somewhere in that question, but you held your tongue for now. We’ll see how long that lasts.

“Sweetie~, we plan to have you as ours!” Midnight purred, circling around you like a beast going in for the kill. You rolled your eyes—how vexing can this woman be?

“Wow! That’s so funny, I forgot to laugh.” You threw out a half-assed pity laugh for the pro. You looked at the other pros for some kind of confirmation that Midnight was just being her usual lofty self, but when no comforting gaze reached your eyes, you felt your grin crumble.

“Eh…heh. Alright, that’s how we’re playing this. All the unfunny jokes aside—Hell freaking NO am I letting you lot take me anywhere. I’m not going willingly! I kick, I scream, and I do bite. I’m feral, bitc—,” You managed to squirm hard enough that you actually broke away from whoever was holding you the tightest in the ball of limbs. You slid off the glossy table and slunk back a few feet. It was just spacious enough for you to finally get a deep breath in from the overwhelming physical affection but you were nowhere near a safe distance from the psychos of UA.

“Willingly isn’t an issue. Plenty of us have quirks that can make you submit easily. Resistance will only produce failure for you. I don’t want to be forced to hurt your miniscule feelings.” Vlad gruffed out. He truly reminded you of an English bulldog—grumpy and hard-headed to the extreme.

“Oh, be sweeter, Vlad! Don’t scare the poor thing before we’ve had our fun.” 13 tried to reason with the ice-cold man.

“I am being sweet.” Vlad defended.

“No, you’re being a wet blanket,” Mic advised with a casual whistle.

“Shut up.” The white-haired man huffed out a pointed wind of air. With tusks as sharp as nails protruding out of his mouth, harsh huffs of breath that escaped his nose, and rising anger visibly seeping from his form, it made the image of him in your mind morph from cute, grumpy bulldog to a ravenous warthog.

“No, you shut up!” Power Loader lept on the chance to start bickering with Vlad King as he was still irritated at him for stealing his thunder.

“Girls, girls! You’re both pretty. Now, can we please get back to the much more pleasant person of interest?” Midnight tried to get the boys to back off, but her joke only made them that much more infuriated.

“Who’re you calling pretty?!” Vlad whipped his head over to the purple-haired sex fiend.

“Fix your words, Midnight, or I’ll give you something to be sorry for.” Vlad reared in, sneering at the woman something fierce.

“Here we go,” Aizawa muttered while shrinking further into his tall scarf tower.

“Nice one, Nemuri.” Hizashi bumped her with his elbow.

“I apologize…for you being a whiny BITCH!” You could practically see the overexaggerated sweat drop slip down the rest of the teachers’ heads as the beast of a man went off the rails from Midnight’s claim. He started stomping around, bellowing and nearly tossed a table across the room. You stood there and just…watched the man go from a professional, stoic, respectable instructor to a crybaby throwing the most dangerous tantrum known to mankind.

Guess he didn’t appreciate being called pretty.

Would he have preferred gorgeous?

That joke, while absolutely hilarious and should have been told for at least someone to hear its magnificence, you held in your throat so you didn’t get bitch slapped by a heavy office chair and receive a one-way ticket, all-expense-paid trip to God’s doorstep. You used the teacher’s being distracted with trying to calm the raging boarman down as an opportunity to scan for available exits. They were currently blocking the only door in or out, so that way out was an absolute no-go. You looked behind you and saw another door, but it didn’t look like it would provide a fruitful escape. By process of elimination, it would most likely be another closet that had no exit—and you DID NOT want to be stuck in one of those again. It was a miracle that the one earlier tonight had one! You do not want to try your luck again with much more threatening opponents in your way.

Inspecting further, there didn’t appear to be any other doors around to scamper out of. The last option you had was the large pane windows facing the outside, normally providing you with quite a beautiful bird’s eye view of the city. While it was an escape route, the task of escaping after exiting would be less than ideal. You were currently at least six storeys off of the ground, and you couldn’t guarantee that your quirk would save you from that high of a drop. Plus, the roof was still at least a few floors upwards, so you couldn’t hang out of the window and easily grab a railing. Not that you’d be sneaky enough to do that without alerting the bickering party of adults in front of you. You weren’t sure where else you could turn to avoid a serious temper tantrum.

Shatter.

A window to the side of where you were standing abruptly splintered away. A rush of the chilled night air flooded the room with one thorough sweep. The infiltration was not caused by the window simply breaking due to a strong gust of wind or a tree branch breaking the surface. No—it turned out to be a rather unwelcome intruder.

“Heyo~,” a certain bombshell blond’s lilting tone filled the thick tension in the boardroom. Your eyes zeroed in on the hero’s iconic ruby-red wings and instantly knew who it was. Hawks! You’d seen him in the field before from a distance, even captured his attention for long enough to have a brief conversation. A certain twist in your chest wrung out the breath filling your lungs when you thought about his suave nature that day.

You were there with your three main boys the day you’d met Hawks. You had just started working at Endeavor’s agency because of the generous offer provided to you by Todoroki during the Holiday party. It was certainly kind of him to extend his hand to you, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. You tackled him in a hug, and you watched obliviously how he nearly short-circuited at the affection. Though the day you all met up to head off, Bakugou had been acting a little salty around Shoto that afternoon after discovering that he had reached out to you too to join them, but you figured it was just usual Bakugou. Always waking up on the angry side of the bed. Izuku didn’t have the heart to tell you it’s because none of them wanted to make fools of themselves in front of you. Him especially. You are quite oblivious to the “more-than-just-friends” affection they had for you, but Deku was happy keeping it that way. After a bit, the four of you had settled in together and met Shoto’s father.

No thanks to Bakugou’s “stellar” introduction with the pro, Endeavor had put his foot down to deny taking on other interns, other than his own son. Thankfully, hero work is never finished, as a villain attacked then and there. All of you sprung into action despite Endeavor’s denial, and that is when you saw it. Or, rather, him. Red spears descending from the sky like Valkyries swooping in to protect the weak. You saw soon enough that these weren’t spears, they were feathers. The winged hero, Hawks, aided Endeavor in taking down the crazed terrorizer effortlessly. No hesitancy or mercy. Not so much as a bead of sweat lining his forehead either. After recuperating, you and Izuku practically tackled the man in an effort to meet him.

In the staggeringly casual meeting, he was pleased to say he already knew about you from your close friend, Tokoyami. However, he pretty much overlooked the green-haired puffball as he stuck you down with his unnerving amber pools. Hawks suavely shared that he was especially excited to meet you specifically. We’re these most likely only sugar-coated words to get your heart racing for the notorious playboy? Rationally, absolutely. His ego knew no bounds—he’d do anything to get the fans swooning for his flippant affections. Yet, you fell for it nonetheless. You hopelessly played the perfect giddy fan as you devoured all his teasing remarks, his infatuation with your quirk, and his cocky winks. A peck of his lips strategically gifted to the back of your hand was given to no doubt solidify a good relationship, but you nearly passed out. You gushed at the attention before, and you probably would again. You were no different from any faces in his crowd of fans that he interacted with. Or so you thought.

He soon took off after meeting with Bakugou and Shoto briefly. You’d geeked out about the interaction afterwards to the boys. An blatant envy to Hawks’ ease at impressing the masses, you as well now included, made them stumble at their advances. Izuku buried his own jealousy at the hero by directing your attention back to what the rest of the day had planned, and it distracted him from the negative feelings too, thankfully. Shoto had crossed his arms and stood as a silent watcher to walk alongside you. You did catch that he was standing rather close to you. Bakugou only spat insult after insult about the bird brain and the hot-headed waste of a father, hoping that tarnishing the memory of Hawks in your mind would get your mind off of that loser and onto him. He soon cooled off, and became a bodyguard beside you, like Shoto, mumbling to himself about how “pointless” it was to chat with the likes of that douche.

You knew that this meeting was no accident. Hopefully, the hero is here to save you from this awful nightmare. Though, he didn’t show up alone.

“Hawks,” Snipe grumbled a rugged greeting, quite obviously ticked off that the snarky bastard was ruining their sanctuary, “what’re you doin’ here?”

“Oh, not here for any particular reason. Flyin’ around, stopping to smell the roses…,” he lolled his head to look right at you, a devilish smirk lining his strikingly handsome face.

“Inspecting suspicious activity in the area.” A velvety smooth voice strikes up from behind you. You jump and whip your head to the side to see the culprit. Laying a gentle, yet comforting, grip on your shoulder was the famous Rabbit Hero: Mirko. You hadn’t really gotten a chance yet to interact with her in your journey as an aspiring hero. You’d heard about her competitive nature through various interviews you’d seen her in. You’d never felt more like prey than now, underneath her sight. Nonetheless, she was even more stunning than the media could convey. Her white locks draped along your shoulder as she peered down over you, the faint scent of lavender and earthy rubble wafting into your senses. Rumi’s piercing blood-tinged irises looked down upon you with a satisfactory expression. The lingering glint of fire locked within her gaze guided you to understand that whatever was driving her on this mission to confront your captors was far from fizzling out.

You’d heard some about personal interactions with her from Bakugou and Midoriya when they worked with her in the field. Deciphering Bakugou’s turn of phrase you’ve come to be fluent in after all these years, you gauged that she wasn’t too bad of a coworker. He’d said she was strong and that she had a kick that was no joke. When Bakugou remembered something about the people he fought alongside, you knew they left some impression on him—good or bad. He did make a point to reiterate that she only “gets in his way”, but he regards everyone that way, so it’s not a huge concern. Midoriya mostly info-dumped about her quirk and every fighting tactic he’d thought up to either aid her or counter her, but you didn’t mind his ramblings. Animal-based quirks like hers were always intriguing to learn about, and you’d appreciated him taking the time to tell you all the information he’d drug out of the woman. They both agreed (shockingly) they would like to work with her again.

You asked some of the girls of 3-A what they thought of Mirko before, and were surprised when they all nearly trampled you in their freak-out fangirling over the woman. Hagakure gushed over how much she loved what Mirko was doing for the community of women in the pro hero society. She adored how Mirko showed the world that women weren’t just damsels in distress; that the power and strength they hold mentally and physically is one to behold. Mina giddily hugged your arm as she declared the hero gave her confidence to not hide any of her more eccentric or “out-of-the-norm”, as she put it, features. Momo allowed herself to become vulnerable as she shared how Mirko taught her how if others don’t have confidence in your abilities you have to be your own advocate. Perfectionism was rampant in the poor girl, and she had such high expectations for herself. Seeing Momo learning to be more gentle with herself was comforting.

 Jiro and Uraraka explained all the ways she really was a fantastic figure for women, not simply aspiring heroes, to look up to. Strong, snarky, never afraid to throw a quick insult or punch to any ignorant when she needed to. Mirko was not known to be a passive presence; she made sure you know exactly what her opinion on any matter is when she gets in your face to tell you it. Since she wasn’t attached to an agency, most would think she’d be an outcast, but they’d be wrong. The girls told you how she was a lone wolf type, that she’d rather handle everything her own way. You admired her for that. Mirko’s belief of not fitting in with the crowd to instead be at the front lines of encouraging others to break the mold society says you should fit is one to be coveted.

“How’s it going, (Y/N)?” Mirko warmly asked you. You froze when you heard your name fall from her lips. How did she know you? You’d never met face-to-face before in your life! She’s even prettier than the photos snapped by her paparazzi could try to convey.

“Are these guys giving you any trouble~?” Hawks ruffled your hair as he sprouted up next to you like a daisy in a sunny meadow. You felt your face heat up at their actions, not getting used to the unwavering attention of such prestigious members of the Hero Agencies. Also, they’re two of the most gorgeous people in all of Japan. Even a sparse glance in someone’s direction would be enough to make anyone crumple to their knees—nevermind that they’re actually addressing you. You were having a hard time standing up on your own, knees wobbly and jittery, your eyes bouncing back and forth between the two in a fumbling manner. All you could think about was not making a total fool of yourself in front of your heroes. That’s about when you realized you hadn’t responded to them, leaving everyone listening with bated breath at your silence.

You wanted to slap yourself for the silly star-struck reaction, “Oh! I–um…,”

“They’re fine, thank you very much.” Surprisingly, Cementoss’ usual composed tone took a frozen turn. Guess he didn’t appreciate the two of them being here. In fact, it looked to be that most of the teachers in that room didn’t care much for the pros being present, all of them having a crinkled up forehead and scowles dotting their lips. That, or the frustration is from the broken window. Whoops.

“They’d feel more fine if you’d back off.” Vlad King, who had finally calmed down, cautioned the duo. Though he’d cooled off his ramage, you could see the irritated vein popping out underneath his skin, so another outburst was sure to loop back around. Whether it was expressed in a hunched posture, snippy tone, or the expression on their faces; the teachers all agreed on one thing. These two were trouble and had to be escorted away from their darling now.

“Yeesh! What a tough crowd, Mirko!” Hawks overdramatically threw the back of his hand over his forehead. He leaned his body backwards, grasping his other hand over his chest where his heart lies, and wailed out in a helpless maiden-like tone. Oh, yeah. You forgot that he’s such a drama queen. It’s silly, but also somewhat charming, in a way.

“Ha! Seems so, Hawks. Hey, chill out, we’re only here to play babysitter, old timer.” Mirko snickered to herself. Hawks joined in her light-hearted teasing with a bright chortle of his own. His laugh formed from a cluster of tiny clicks rattling through his teeth.

“...What was that, little lady?” Vlad’s temper was never one to back down as he cracked his knuckles. You felt Mirko’s hand clasp tighter around your shoulder at Vlad’s choice of words. You could tell she wanted to go off on him and rip him to shreds both verbally and physically, but held her tongue. Now was not the time to start a war.

“Eh, don’t take it so personally, King! She was just pointing out the obvious~,” Hawks egged the man on. Seems to be Hawks didn’t agree with the “no war” idea. You were beginning to get a bit nervous with the pros’ language. You didn’t want to be on the receiving end of the boar man’s tantrum, as previously mentioned, so why were they purposefully lighting his fuse?! At least move you out of the way first before digging their own grave! Though, you might get pushed into it with them when you can’t dodge their crossfire.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” 13 sneered at the shade.

“You’re all…wise from all your experiences,” words posing as carefully chosen by Hawks no doubt fired up the two more.

“But (Y/N) needs protection from a fresher-faced cast. If you catch our drift~,” Mirko finished for her quick-witted partner.

“That is why you’re all gathered, right? For the Purge?” Hawks anything but innocently asked the group. Those who weren’t lost in their own rage showed a glimpse of hesitation in the answer. Hawks, willing to take a mile from the inch they gave him, ran with their slip-up.

“So, it is true. Judging by the switch in your behaviors, and from that out of the ordinary hue in your irises, seems to me like this lot caught the illness. Probably from those students bulldozing through the school. Can you believe it, Mirko?” Hawks swiftly closed the little distance between you two by slinging an arm over your shoulders.

“I can. They’ve been in such close proximity, it’s no wonder they caught it. I’m just disappointed. They’re supposed to protect people like our lovely (Y/N) here from these incidents. Instead, they’re fueling the catastrophe Hmm. You must’ve been so scared running away from these shit excuses for teachers.” Mirko brought her hand to your cheeks and pinched them together to make your lips pout outward.

“Hey! You know that’s bull—,” Power Loader barked as he leaned across a nearby table.

“What were you sickos planning to do with them, huh? Make them your slave after this night,” Hawks unapologetically interrupted the man, a silence washing over the room at the question being sprung, “Force them to be at your beck and call for everything? Splay their body out to satisfy your needs whenever and wherever you wanted? Disgusting.” Hawks veered his body in front of yours to shield it with one of his huge red wings. The more he talked about what your captors would do to you after the Purge, the more fear reeved up to course through your veins. While thinking about the possibilities of what would happen after the Purge if you were caught, Hawks’ accusations had crossed your mind, but you tried to ignore them earlier. They wouldn't…they’d respect your wishes even if you…belonged to them after all this! They—not your friends, nor your teachers—wouldn’t do those horrible things to you.

And yet, based on everything that’s happened thus far…

You’re not sure anymore.

You shrunk into Mirko’s side deeper, wishing to disappear from the conversation of your fate entirely. You felt her wrap an arm around your waist, and you felt safer with the basically strangers than you had all night long with your long-time partners. You wanted to cry from the relief of finally having somewhere safe to turn. You held the tears back to see where their confrontations would lead.

You felt Mirko lead your stiff body with fleeting strides. She was obviously trying to give you an out, so you went willingly. Just let them do as they please. Anything to get out of this suffocating mess. Hawks caught on to her.

“How dare you try to make those foolish claims against us,” Aizawa began, rage climbing high in his heart. He reached for his infamous scarf and pulled the end piece out, preparing for his attack. Screw playing nice. Screw relying on others. Fuck letting these idiots walk all over him. The nerve of this flashy waste of space dictating him to be the kind of monster that would take advantage of you. You’d been in his life for so long now that he hardly even tries to remember the times without you and his other students. So many tough challenges your class has faced, and yet, each hurdle was leapt over with no hesitation. Your entire class had brought him such joy over the years through the sorrow. His kids. However, you and Shinsou undoubtedly claimed the prize to share the number one spot on his favorites list. You’d been so attentive and caring over him when he’d left you to flounder for air. Late nights powering through boring essays, countless assignments completed only an hour before they were due, the weekend study sessions that almost always turned into game nights or gossiping over snacks that he’d seen you participate in with your other friends. You work so tirelessly to be a good student and attentive friend. That effort wasn’t unnoticed by his watchful eye.

There were many more less impactful moments shared that, dare he say, mean even more to him than the death-defying acts you’d survived together. Chats over the positive current life events with him drinking his standard cup of muddy brown coffee and you casually sipping your own beverage. Walks around campus with him, Midoriya, Tokoyami, Ojiro, and you. The sky gleaming a dazzling aqua blue with the sun sparkling overhead, but not in an overwhelming glare. Puffy clouds dancing in the air. A pleasant, flowery breeze twirling past you. One late night in the common room when he was making his last round to make sure everyone was securely in their dorms, he found you sitting on the couch brushing off the aggressive tears slipping down your cheeks.

When he’d made his presence known that night, you’d shot up like a fired bullet off the comfy sofa, scrubbing your puffy eyes in an attempt at covering up the residual cry session. You’d greeted him warmly with a laughing cough to hide your choked up throat, but he shut down your plan of concealment by hinting that he’d already seen your sadness flowing. That night he sat beside you and talked. Talked about what you were upset about, talked through your doubts, fears, and resentment over how you didn’t know what you were going to do now. Gave you a sorrow-filled look when you broke down into a fit of violent sobs again. He even sat with you in a lingering, but reassuring, silence after your sobs faded.

Only then did Aizawa release a sliver of his own castle walls to give you a hug holding as much love as he could spare from his withered and beaten heart. He told you many ways how your class had changed him to be a better man. How you inspired him to keep pushing himself to look ahead to what beauty the future could hold. Aizawa promised you that night that no one was going to abandon you like you’d feared. He promised to always be there for you whenever you needed his support. All he needed was for you to reach out, and he’d claw up any bit of strength he had left to come rescue you like the hero he promised Oboro and Hizashi he would become. Today was no different from back then.

These fakes weren’t going to tarnish his cherished memory of that night with you. That night, when you’d smiled back up at him with a wobbly grin and soggy eyes, now glistening with hope from his words, you should have known he wouldn’t let some nobodies crush your heart. These wretches didn’t stand a chance.

Power Loader cut Aizawa off to continue, “We would never. Stop trying to scare them like that!”

13, back to her reasonable self, even tried coaxing you, “(Y/N), they are lying. We would never betray you. Now, if you’d please come back here—,”

Feeling bolder with allies at your side, you forced your lips to move to stop their rambling lies, “Why should I believe a single word that comes out of any of your mouths?!” The room fell into stillness. It was as if the whole world had shut itself up to give you the stage to speak your mind.

Fed up and running off of pure adrenaline, you continued, “None of you have asked for my opinion on anything that has happened tonight. You don’t care what I have to say; all you give a shit about is doing whatever the fuck you want to me. You didn’t tell me what you were planning. You spied on me, you kidnapped me, and kept me stuck in this hell as your little hostage all night!

“Even if you did care about me, it was only to find out what you could gain from me for your selfish desires.” You downcasted your eyes at their knife-like glares.

Tears welled up and this time you couldn’t stop them from dragging down your tired face. You took a shaky breath to fill your deflated lungs, “I…I understand this virus has…changed you. I understand whatever you’re going through isn’t easy to fight against. But I don’t know. I don’t know what is happening to any of you. I don’t know what you’re thinking of doing. I just…can’t know. I’m too scared to even try to begin searching for the answer. My classmates have become the same as you—completely changed from who they are. They’ve been hunting me down. And now this thing has taken my teachers too?” Your lips wobbled at the realization of your loss.

“Ha…it’s like one sick joke the world is playing against me,” an exasperated laugh bled from your vocal chords, “I don’t know how it’s making you feel, but I know what it is making you do to me. You’re scaring me. I don’t feel safe. Around any of you. It isn’t crazy to consider you’d force me to do…other things too.”

You caught Aizawa’s eyes when you looked up. You turned away to save yourself from the heartbreak of his torn expression.

You curled into Hawks’ back, shrouding your emotional husk of a body in his fluffy feathers. You allowed the last few dying words left in your quaking heart to wheeze out, “Please. Leave me alone. Please.” Whether your teachers were mad at you for speaking against them, or if they wanted to get on their knees and beg for your forgiveness, you had no clue. All you know is that Hawks whips around, gathers your trembling form in his arms, and takes a couple of steps back from Mirko.

“Hang on tight.” He gently whispers to you. Unconsciously, you obeyed, and securely held onto the fizzy collar of his iconic jacket.

“We’ll be watching over them for the rest of the Purge.” That cold, nonchalant jab to the teachers was the last fleeting acknowledgment Mirko threw at them. Hawks spread his wings.

“Next time, before you go destroying the mental and emotional well-being of your students, get a grip on reality.” The finality of Hawks’ tone was filled with all the venom that he felt you lovingly held back. Your kindness is not what this lot deserves. With that, he flapped his humongous wings a few times to kickstart his ascension and took off with you pressed tightly against him. He soared up and out of the broken window, making sure to cover you properly so you didn’t get sliced or stabbed by any broken glass. You watched Mirko clamber out of the rickety window from over his shoulder, land on the edge of the concrete window sill, and use her legs to jump as high into the air as she could.

You watched in awe as she practically flew up several storeys, confidently grasp the edge of the railing atop the roof, and gently sling herself onto the roof without so much as a hiccup. Judging by the trajectory of where Hawks was flying, he too was aiming for the roof. Not like you cared at this point. As long as you were away from them, you’d be fine to go anywhere they took you.

“We at Air Hawks thank you for flying with us on this gorgeous evening, esteemed passenger. We have now reached our destination, the rooftop of the illustrious UA High. The weather outside is clear skies at a balmy 75°, so you may see a stunning view of the city tonight. Please take care and follow your charming, ever good-looking pilot as he will guide you towards the exit.” Hawks cracked a light joke to try and pull you out of the dark headspace you were currently dwelling inside. You spared him a half-hearted giggle for his attempt, allowing him to release the hold his hands had on the backs of your knees. You plopped your feet down softly to the ground just as Mirko had made it over.

“Here, let me get that for you.” Mirko held out her hands, her gaze trained on Sero’s tape that was still wound snugly around your wrists. Wow. You’d entirely forgotten they were still there. You lifted your wrists to the admirable woman and merely watched as she took your already reddening wrists into hers.

“Honestly. What barbarians. To leave you bound like this? Complete bullshit.” Mirko muttered insult after insult under her breath as she wasted no time in destroying the binding. She took your wrists up to her mouth and carefully chomped down using her steely, rabbit-esque front teeth on the strips to make a sizable cut through them. She gently pulled your wrists apart and the tape effortlessly split. Free, at last.

Using your fingers, you tore away the remaining severed strips with a wince, and threw them to the ground. Battered and bruised, you saw that your wrists were nearing raw from how much struggling against the tape���s adhesive you’d done. You gave a quick massage to stimulate blood flow back into your numbing fingertips.

“There! Feel any better?” Mirko prodded.

“Much. Thank you for getting me out of there. I seriously couldn’t have asked for a cooler getaway than two of the top pro heroes in Japan being my saviors.” you tossed a light joke in along with the gratitude. You yanked the two pros into your chest with a tight hug to further show your thanks, taking a deep breath against their chests. They were rigid at first, but they both allowed themselves. However, while being this close, they couldn’t help but notice the sweet smell drifting off of your clothing. There was little the pros could do to avoid the intoxicating aroma, but before they could delve further into what it was, they heard a tiny sniffle sound from your buried head.

With an alertness to you that he hadn’t felt before, Hawks pulled you away from his chest with a concerned look on his face. “Hey, what’s up, baby bird?” Hawks were much more determined than he had been all night to get you to open up about what was going on in your brain.

Not looking up from the ground to respond, he placed his fingertips underneath your chin and tilted your bent head up. You had a thread of silvery tears lining your lower lash line and a wobbly lip that made both Mirko and Hawks’ aggravation boil their blood.

“Hon, tell us what’s wrong.” Mirko commanded. She could barely contain the loathing that spiderwebbed throughout her heart. When she gets her hands on those measly heroes who mistreated you, she is going to make them wish they’d never bothered you with their worthless existence ever again. Lousy maggots. Just as Mirko’s mind was going to float off the deep end into disturbing plans of vile and ruthless methods of punishment, she caught herself.

Woah. That’s new. That was aggressive.

No, the aggressiveness was not new. She’d always had a bit of spark to her. Her wild thoughts are what made her such a great hero; that’s how Mirko became widely recognized for her prowess. It was who she was having the ruthless feelings against that surprised her. She’s worked with those pros, her coworkers and friends, for years. She barely knows you at all. Yet, she’s planning every possible way she could make the insolent, ignorant gang pay for their mistreatment.

Although, why should that fact matter? Why shouldn’t they pay? Sure, they’re her friends, but they abused an innocent. They forcefully used their quirks and position of power over you to make you suffer! It’s despicable. It’s dishonorable. They should face the punishment of the law. But…that isn’t enough. Her rationality slips, drifting further away the longer she feels you warm her. It fuels a fire within her, and that fire sets the marrow lining her bones a light. She doesn’t want to toss the aggressors off to the police like a spineless coward. You deserve better than that. You deserve more. You deserve justice. She is justice. Technically, she is the law. She will make them pay. Yes, that’s a wonderful idea!

God, she hasn’t felt this warmth in a long time. Too long. You’re wonderful.

Hawks isn’t faring any better. He’s wild-eyed—his mind deep sketching out the framework of delusional fantasies of him taking you on as his trainee, showing you all the tips and tricks he’s learned in the harsh world of hero life, and quite literally taking you under his wing. Maybe you two become more after you get closer. Keigo isn’t unfamiliar with the desire of wanting companionship in his life. He often finds himself daydreaming of a partner by his side, on and off the field of battle. Never a specific person, just a faceless, nameless being, fluttering through his desires. Smiling, laughing, enjoying each other's time together. Cute stuff. Hawks yearns for that small sliver of normalcy. Keigo wants to feel human—to feel whole again after everything he’s been stripped of in his miserable existence.

With you, even though your interactions have been brief and you’ve endured some light flirting of his that is barely considerably mentionable, you’ve brought him nothing but a comforting and loving feeling. He feels indebted to you for simply being you. Not lying to him, or trying to pretend to be someone you’re not. He’s constantly surrounded by deceptive and cruel human nature. He truly couldn’t tell you how many thousands of googly-eyed newbies have introduced themselves to him, praying for even a small flicker of his fame to rub off on them. Hoping to use him to spring them up into the actually noticeable charts. It’s so easy to read them too. They’re open, flimsy magazines. Bright, colorful, eye-catching, and full of back-stabbing and strategically fabricated lies. Spread wide and pleading for him to flip through their pages. They always hiss lies through their teeth, grinning and bearing the once-in-a-lifetime interaction. But no matter how much sucking up they commit to or how well they try to veil the truth of their intentions behind sugared words, he never fails to see through them.

Guess the training he went through as a child was good for something. If you don’t open up to people, you can never get hurt. Sure, that tactic has worked wonders…up until meeting you.

But he’s just so tired. He just wants to lower the railing and find something worth all the fight he puts up.

You might be his outlet.

“It’s…it’s just been a long night. I’m sorry—,” you tried to cover your face with your forearm, desperate to conceal the embarrassing honest showing on your face. Mirko gently removed your shield with a comforting smile.

“Oh no, hon, it’s fine—,”

“Never ever apologize for your feelings—,” both pros stumbled over each other’s words. When they realized they were getting anywhere by interrupting the other, they shared a look. After a small nod shared, they wrapped their arms around you again.

“You’re okay,” they both said at the same time, cradling you against them once again. You snuggled deeper, taking that chance to breathe deep and avoid spiraling into a panic attack.

While your arms were around the two, you accidentally brushed against Hawks’ wings. That is when you noticed his wings had puffed up in size, similar to how any bird does when they want to appear bigger to a threat they face. He had been very tense at the beginning of the hug, so maybe he was only nervous, so you chose to not question it. Plus, you’d just let a room full of deadly pro heroes! Yeah, it’s alright. However, the light thudding taps of Rumi’s foot against the concrete roof was something you couldn’t explain. Is it normal for hybrid rabbits to emulate this characteristic from their bunny counterparts? You’re not too sure.

You tried to pull away, but their tight grips didn’t let you. Oh. Well, maybe they’re both in desperate need of a hug. You’re very familiar with your classmates coming to you for hugs during their rougher days. They always said you had the best hugs, and you take great pride in that fact. Come to think of it, maybe you should ask them all about their mental health more often, just so no one spirals off the deep end and punches another classmate (thank you for that, Bakugo).

OH! Your friends! Maybe Hawks and Mirko can help them! Yes, that’s a great plan.

Peeling further back, you tilted your head up to look them in their eyes. You let out an airy chuckle, “As much as I enjoy the hug, I need some more of your help.”

They instantly lightened their steely grips. Not too much to let you slip away. Mirko held a smug look, as if knowing you’d come crawling back to her for her aid. SHe’s the only one who can provide for you properly, afterall. Don’t worry, let her handle everything for her darling. No task is too big for her. Hawks resembled that of a grinning puppy, excited and warm. Eager to perform any task for praise and treats. Yes! Anything you want, darling, they can provide! What do you need?

They didn’t supply you with a verbal answer, but the looks they carried spoke loud enough, so you continued, “My classmates. I don’t know what happened to my friends, but they’ve got the same thing the teachers do. I think everyone’s infected. I have to help them, but I don’t think I can do it alone.”

As soon as they heard you utter the word “friends”, their bliss was shot and struck the ground like a wounded songbird. Their brains shut off to stop the nonsense you were suggesting. Friends? You need people other than them?! And what’s worse, is you want them to help those idiots?! Last they checked, they were public enemy number one for making you run yourself ragged up and down those endless halls! No, that can’t be right. Those fools don’t deserve their help. Not for what they made you go through.

“No.” Rumi snapped with a frigid simper.

The rest of the sentence you were sputtering falters. You gaze up at the rabbit hero, “...What?”

With a second look-over, Mirko appears a lot scarier than she did only minutes beforehand. Have her eyes always been this clouded? Her unrelenting gaze exudes a darker inkling than when you’d faced her way. Rumi’s eyes stuck on you like gum bonded to the bottom of your shoe.

No. This wouldn’t happen again. They said they’d be better than this—better than them.

Hawks obnoxiously cleared his throat to brush the eerie vibe away from the floundering conversation, “Ehh…haha! What Rumi means is not right now. It’s too dangerous to go searching for your friends now. Finding help for them after the Purge settles down is the safest strategy.” Hawks smoothly saved Mirko’s ass with the perfect excuse, served up on a shining silver platter. You didn’t appreciate how obviously strained Hawks’ tone became at “friends”.

“Let’s get you somewhere safe. Preferably away from this shithole.” She mumbled the last portion, keeping the snark to her own chest, but her contempt for the institution was blatant. Mirko’s eyes were laced with flaming venom as she fleetingly paid attention to the concrete walls. A sneer broke out on her lips, as if just the idea of standing on top of the building was a sin itself.

“Ah… okay.” You tried to leave the hug again. They persisted.

“Mirko—,” Hawks’ voice twisted into a demanding tone. His blown out, puppy-like pupils cinched into vicious slits, staring down the woman.

“Hawks, I don’t want to hear it. Back off.” Mirko gnashed back at the blond. The two began an all out war against each other, both tugging against the other’s advances. A tug to the left, a drag to the right, both parties were unrelenting. Neither wanted to allow the victory of having you in their arms.

“You’re holding them too tightly!” Keigo whined.

“Well, you’re not holding them tight enough.” Mirko argued back. You’ve seen this before. It reminded you of two children fighting over who got to play with which toy, always bickering how the other was “doing it wrong”. It reminded you of Ochaco fighting the guys. It reminded you of Denki and Mina struggling over who got to hold you. Childish squabbles.

Liars, the lot of them. They didn’t want to help you. If they did before, not anymore. They’re infected, there’s no other answer for their behavior.

“Keigo, just stop it! You and I both know that you can’t protect them.” Mirko snarked. That caught the bird’s attention judging by the way his eyes dug into her, all emotion scrapped from his expression. A grim look stole the spot, one that told of violence and mayhem running rampant in behind his eyes. An expression usually reserved for the villains he so often made easy prey of. This is awful.

“And what is that supposed to mean, rabbit?” Hawks’ eyes looked wilder than before.

“I think you and I both know what I meant.” She snarked back, ruffling his feather figuratively and quite literally.

“Be honest with yourself. When was the last time you were able to save something that you actually cared about?” Mirko hatched a devilish plan. She took the chance of his loss of temper to clutch you against her. She took a couple spacious leaps back, creating a sizable distance between her friend turned enemy. Hawks plucked two giant feathers from his wingspan that sharped out into duo blades resembling two scimitars.

“I’m done being—,” just before Hawks could spiral off the deep end into whatever hell he had planned to put Mirko through, a disturbance crashed the party.

“Enough, you two.” A formidable voice shook from the shadows. Those few words are all it takes for the two beside you to back off from tearing out each other’s throats. Whoever it was had the ability to command total control of a room in an instant. You couldn’t see them, but you knew the voice came from the other side of the stairwell exit.

“Great,” Mirko scoffs, tilting her head to look the other way with a cross of her arms. You couldn’t tell if it was from irritation or the shame from being caught. Judging by her scowl, it’s probably the latter.

“Endeavor…how long have—,” Hawks sputtered out. You swivel your head to the gap at the birdman. No fucking way it’s the number one hero. He’s gotta be wrong. The number one pro hero showing up to participate in the Purge is unheard of. Guess you’d be wrong. Though, you suppose that even the number one gets a pass during today. It’s just jarring since All Might had not once in all his years of being the symbol of peace even be seen during the Purge hours. He probably just didn’t want to be caught up in a scandal with the news or social media if he were to ever be discovered converting to be a player of the Purge’s game.

Sure enough though, the one who rounds the corner is in fact Endeavor. He shut Hawks up with a simple raise of his palm and an unforgiving glare. The once cheery hawk tucks into himself and shields his frustration away from the number one.

The first thing that shows you the reality of the situation is his overwhelming stature. You severely underestimated the way this man takes up a room. Seeing him in TV interviews on the news and fighting against villains is one thing, but it is a completely different beast to be face-to-face with him stalking towards you. It made sense why he was deemed the top—with such a suffocating aura, it was hard to believe that any villain even tried to oppose the behemoth. You should know, you’ve met him before.

During your training with him alongside the boys, it had been quite the feat. You’d mostly done in-field training with the boys, but the one time you did have one-on-one training with the pro was unnerving, to say the least. Endeavor had watched your every move, his eyes never straying too far from where you’d displayed the extent of your Quirk’s usefulness. You knew you were as capable, even more so since you could control your emotions, as Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki. Let’s face it, all three of them had a tendency to act out far too irrationally due to their urges and feelings, and they weren’t shy about expressing it. Although, your self control put you in a favorable light with Endeavor, so it wasn’t strange that he gave more of his attention to you.

Instead of bickering and combating everything the pro said with a harsh glower like Katsuki had, you listened intently and gave Endeavor undivided attention. Instead of ignoring the man who actively tried to give pointers and choosing to walk faster ahead of the group like Shoto had, you hung back and asked questions about what Shoto had done wrong in his approach and how to improve his strategy. You became more agile, better aware of your surroundings, and able to predict some of the moves villains would try to throw at you. You understood that the opportunity that Shoto had given to you all with training under his father for the work-study was not something to be taken lightly. Was the man a little too much of a hardass for your taste? Yes. But he was not a pushover. He had valuable lessons to teach you all from experiences he’s faced during his years in the field. If you wanted to actually place in the hero charts one day, you knew you’d have to get past your own opinions on the man and try to cooperate.

If someone asked your opinion of Endeavor, they’d understand he’s not your favorite hero to grace the charts. You’d believed him to be startlingly cold for the fiery nature of his quirk. It was easy to say you’d originally thought him to be nothing but an ass with too hot of a head on his shoulders, and while that was still the truth more often than not, he had his moments of clarity. The media did have a knack for stringing up the moments of his ill temper caught on film and making them the headline of every social media platform. What you had learned during your trainings held at the crack of dawn was that he was extremely precise. There was never a lack of communication or any doubt held within his words whenever he instructed you. Swing a right hook into the dummy’s torso. Sweep your leg to the left to knock the opponent over. He was straight to the point and earnest in the compliments regarding your physical improvements.

He’d even let you spar against him one day. Endeavor had taken the four of you and one of his many sidekicks, Burnin, to the rooftop during one of the few freetimes you’d actually had. He asked you to step across from him and get into your fighting position. He instructed no quirks be used, that it be purely a hand-to-hand combat session that balanced skill and strength together. With Burnin as the referee, you’d begun. He thankfully didn’t go easy on you as he views not giving his all into any task as a “halfass lazy excuse”, so you’d fight with your entire being against Endeavor. He educated the four of you through commentating on all of the things you did wrong; how you’d left yourself open to a couple of jabs from him, turned your back to him often enough that he’d seized an opportunity to lunge and knock you over, and such. Though you were outmatched in a number of categories, you soon understood why he was putting you to this impossible challenge. Enji wanted you to get creative with your tactics to take down your foe. You needed to outwit his strength.

With the newfound spark of inspiration, you struck. You made a move imitating that of one you’d tried against him earlier. A simple left hook. He knew he could easily deflect the punch, so he took the bait. You’d noticed before that he was much more sturdy with his right side, which left room for error on his left, so you took the chance. You sidestepped into his peripheral and closed in behind him. You kicked in the back of his right knee, forcing him to stumble to the ground. You knew you couldn’t tackle the man over from this position, nor could you keep him pinned there due to how much force you had to use to kick his knee alone, so you went with the quickest option. You needed to hit a weak point, but since his body was covered in mostly muscle, you only had a few options. Since kicking him in the groin seemed like too cruel for a simple sparring session, the spots above his neck would have to do. You jumped up onto his back, shimmied up enough to hang onto his shoulder, and threw a hard punch right into his throat.

You left him choking on his air and wheezing. He grasped at his neck, steadying himself on his other arm. Leaving him no hands to defend against your assault. You then shoved your hands into his hair, pulled on the strands tightly, and swung your body forward over the man’s shoulder. You let gravity handle the rest. Your body weight pulled his unstable torso forward and he hit the ground with a hefty SMACK! You bent your knees to land sturdily on the ground with minimal impact to your footing and let his face take the brunt of the fall. You then placed your knee hard on the middle of his shoulder blades to pin him and Burnin deemed the match completed with an impressed grin lilting on her face. Admittedly, for the rest of that day, you gloated the pride you felt at taking down the mountain of a man a little too obviously.

You knew that day he most likely wanted to make an example out of you when he presumed you wouldn’t win the fight, but you’d made sure he understood not to fuck around with you or your generosity again.

Zooming back to the present, you caught his eyes goring a hole right through you. Brilliant aqua blue irises stuck out like a sore thumb against his smoldering flames. No matter how much Shoto tried to deny the fact, he truly was Endeavor’s child. That striking blue color kept locked down within the Endeavor lineage and fiery red hair that draped over half of his head was unmistakable. Features that, however much wasted on the shitty attitude the man possessed, would make many and most fall head-over-heels for their stunning effect. Though, in your opinion, Shoto wore the beauty better.

Enji’s gaze was harsh towards you, but it was kind compared to the one he shot at Mirko’s arm wrapped around you. Perceptive, the woman held you closer, as if trying to defy his silent demand of releasing you. She was dead set on not going down without a fight. Before she could hope for one to begin, Hawks laid a hand on her shoulder as a soft hint to not involve you in Endeavor’s unrivaled wrath. Mirko knew he was right. Dammit it all. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she relented, back off of you. She left you to fend for yourself against the beast, cast you aside to the big bad wolf who wouldn’t spare you. It reminded you of the tale of Odysseus facing off with Polyphemus—only you were unarmed and lacking a foolproof plan of escape and this giant won’t allow arrogance to be his downfall yet again like the monster from the epic had.

Finally, Endeavor was right in front of you. If you had any bravery left from the night, it vanished wholly with him staring you down. Endeavor hardly even spared a tilt of his head to gaze down upon you, opting to stare through a half-lidded examination. The only indication that he was human and not some freaky Terminator cyborg from the future coming to hunt you down was the ever-present scowl he’s so fond of sharing.

Without ever taking his sight off of you, he glowered dryly to an unidentified listener, “Why are they scratched up?” You see now the question is not for you, rather it's dedicated to the duo in charge of you. You peered down to see what he was referring to, only now understanding what he meant from the bruises beginning to bloom along your wrists and the miniscule scratches littering your forearms and neckline. None of them were deep enough to lance more than a couple drops of blood, but they were still oozing fresh from the night’s escapades.

“That wasn’t from us! The students were dragging them back-and-forth between the halls before the teachers got a hold of them. You know how rough kids are with their toys.” Hawks quickly presented to the man. Smooth as ever. He strolled over to Endeavor to lean his elbow against the man’s bulky side, as if casually resting against an alleyway’s grimy brick wall. Although, with how stocky the pro was, you’re sure the feeling was probably akin. You watched Endeavor roll his eyes at the blond.

“I’m sure hurling them through a window had nothing to do with the scratches.” Endeavor’s sarcasm hung heavy in the air like too much icing on a dry piece of cake. It was obvious that his comedic side hadn’t been brushed up on in awhile. He took the chance to use an unexpected gentleness to grasp your forearm and hold up the damaged skin to the duo as all the evidence he needed. You, not taking too kindly to being an item for presentation, pulled your arm away from him and held it close. Endeavor shot you a look of disappointment, but held in the trembling Armageddon he had planned. Hawks gave a weak chuckle, no doubt scrounging for a way to veer the conversation off them scaling the side of a building with you.

Endeavor decided to spare you for now, choosing to cross his arms and acknowledge only Hawks, “What’s their status? Who in the school is infected? How many are after them?”

You were starting to get sick of him completely ignoring the fact that you had your own voice to speak for your own wellbeing. “You know I can speak for myself, right? Or have you forgotten that since we last hung out.” Hawks shot you a look that yelled “shut up” like a parent two seconds away from scolding their child who is screaming in public. You didn’t cower. You pressed on to challenge Endeavor’s authority.

“I’m aware. But I understand if I speak to you, you’ll probably end up whining like a child to me. Wasting my time.” Endeavor threw no more than a half-hearted stern crinkle of his brows, and you pretty much could no longer hold back the bubbling anger swelling up in your chest.

“Excuse me! It’s not ‘whining’, it’s called ‘being a sane person with reasonable concerns’. Also, no shit I would complain! Your little underlings were literally just fighting over who was going to kidnap me! That is a perfect reason to yell.” You waltzed your way in front of him to be a human barrier to get in the way of his sight being fixated on Hawks. You will make yourself heard against this bully. Screw it if he trained you, you don’t just ignore someone you’re actively talking about when they are right in front of you! It’s incredibly rude.

“I don’t have time for this,” Endeavor rubbed temples with one hand. You wanted to rip his head off and shout from the rooftops into his eardrums. Maybe that would get your point through his thick skull.

“Wow. First of all, fuck you,” That certainly caught his attention. His head snapped to look down at your defiance. His eyes bore that same look he’d struck Mirko’s arm with before. Boiling hysteria and bitterness. Even though you physically felt the warmth of his internal temperature rise, and you recognized the panic Hawks held in his gob-smacked expression, you couldn’t stop your big mouth from prattling on. Shoto probably would have laughed his ass off at your opposition to his father. That small support in the back of your mind made your confidence soar.

“Second of all, you can’t seriously think that I am going to be chill with anything you wei—,” you couldn’t finish your sentence before you were all of the sudden no longer touching the roof. The collar of your shirt had been snatched by Endeavor’s strong hand with no warning and hoisted high. You were now dangling limply a few feet off the ground. Keigo was squawking figuratively and literally, yanking on Endeavor’s arm to lower the leverage he held your body at. Rumi took a turn for the worst. Threats cranked out of her mouth as she reared up to kick him as hard as she could square in an area where the sun didn't shine. Maybe give him a taste of his own brutality. With an unyielding and unforgiving hold, he lifted you even higher with no strenuous effort. You yelped, swinging and writhing around to try escaping the brute strength of your foe. He brought you in close to look at you eye-to-eye, making sure your darting gaze has nowhere to turn to other than locking in to meet his own icy pair.

“You will not speak to me like that again. Your attitude might be cute to the rest of these weak links, but I won’t let it go without correction. You show me respect, or we will both have to go through a punishment for you that neither of us will enjoy. This is your first and final warning.” Every word was uttered with nothing but truth. No twist of a joke in his tone, no shift in expression, nothing. Only a foreboding aura and the gravely tone that demanded full cooperation.

Every snappy response died on your tongue. You wanted to fight back, to sass all of them more, to tell him exactly what you thought of him to his stupid, scary face—but nothing came. You felt tears line your waterline, and you couldn’t despise them more. Crying when faced with any kind of opposition…what kind of hero does that make you? You couldn’t explain why your mind drifted to Midoriya in this moment when all hope was lost.

You suppose it’s because you recall a day when the boy had tried to deny his waterworks and his friends carried his tears with grace and love. Deku had been sent off to his work-study with the man he’d called ‘Sir Nighteye’. You didn’t know much about the man, in all honesty, but you did know that one of the strongest students at UA had been training underneath him for some time. The sweet boy named Mirio who had come to meet your class and then single handedly swept you all in a twenty-to-one match. He was quite impressive, so the fact that Midoriya had been taken on to work alongside him was quite the honor!

However, Midoriya came back rather…startled, to say the least. He hardly participated in conversations held around him, didn’t speak up during the lectures, and could barely choke down the food placed in front of him either. His eyes were clouded, a scrunched up twist pulled on his eyebrows like he was stuck in a maze of his own thoughts. He looked far into the distance yet couldn’t process what was in front of him. It was scary. Where did the boy always eager to learn and help everyone drift off to? You wanted him back.

The situation came to a head one day at lunch when you were sitting across from the green-haired boy, Iida, and Shoto. You’d all tucked into your meals when you noticed Midoriya had no intention of even attempting to stomach the spread. Shoto had shockingly tried to crack a very dry joke, and that seemed to wake the distant boy. After brushing off all of your concerns for the nth time, Iida finally challenged Deku’s false reassurance. He’d offered an ear to listen to the boy’s troubles. A simple gesture, most would assume, but it hit the boy hard. Midoriya had tried to keep it in, but the boy just couldn’t hold back his emotions—a fact of which you admired to this day. He tried to claim that heroes don’t cry while he actively swiped away the drips trailing from his evergreen eyes, but you watched as Iida and Shoto shut down that statement quickly. It’s such an easy thing to say but a hard skill to execute. Of course heroes cry! Anyone who doesn’t when facing the nightmarish terrors that they do on a daily basis is lying or too stone cold to be considered human.

You watched as the boys bonded over the spilt emotions and a grin overtook your face the entire rest of the day. No one at that table knew what Deku was going through with poor Eri and the vile Overhaul situation. You hadn’t a clue the true reason Iida had extended his hand to the shaken boy that day. But it didn’t matter. Izuku let his tears and strength glow bright that day. Tears are a symbol of actually giving a shit in this world. Tears you shed are the wordless tale you share with the world. Speaking a thousand words in all different orders. A labyrinth that can be solved or failed, depending on how your own soul understands the riddle. You’re still scouring that maze to comprehend your own salty snivels.

“Understood?” The three heroes stilled, waiting for your response. Wordlessly, you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling, looking away from the man to not give the satisfaction of his actions actually scaring you, and nodded. He gave a satisfied grunt of contempt and lowered you back down to the cement. Hawks flitted over to your side, checking you over. Mirko didn’t exactly come running to you but she did make a point of standing in between Endeavor and you.

“You’ll see why we must do this soon, (Y/N). This life is just too risky for someone like you,” he looked like he wanted to say more to you, but held his tongue. You wished he’d just crawl back to whatever shithole he climbed out of and fester there for the atrocious attempt at playing the “comforting” father role.

He meant it, you know. Enji sees you choose to not look beyond his past. Much like his sons. Not that he can blame any of you. But, for some reason, the abandonment of trust hurt more from you than it did Shoto.

Enji could tell you how many sidekicks he’s experienced come and go throughout his career. Does he remember the plebeians' names? No. Why should he? They left, so that must mean they didn’t meet his standards. No big deal, another will take their place eventually. It’s not his job to care about them or to remember them. However, he does remember you quite well. Truthfully, much to your surprise, before even your work-study together.

The first time he’d even sparred you a passing glance was during the Sports Festival in your first year. Truthfully, he didn’t give a single damn about any students in the arena other than his son. Enji really only went to see if Shoto would finally stop this little rebellion of his by only using that wretched ice his doe-eyed wife blessed their son with. He wanted to see Shoto crack under the pressure and give in—finally admit that the fire portion of his power was the stronger, more reliable half. He managed in his obsession to give some half-assed attention to the other one-on-one duels.

One of the fights he watched over was you against the ditzy girl from the Support Department, Mei something. Initially, he was going to walk away at such an uninteresting sounding fight, but he chose to linger. He saw you willingly agree to Mei flaunting her inventions to prospective buyers by using you as the demonstration device. You’d effortlessly almost danced around her gadgets’ tactics; playing the part of challenging foe, but never let her pin you in a dicey position. You’d ended the fight by running her off the boundary line before time ran out, and both of you shared a hug as you parted ways—both satisfied with you being the victor moving forward in the chain of fights and her having interested eyes witnessing her skill. Normally, a blatant show of mutual benefit would have him running for the hills. That wasn’t a fight, neither of you put any effort into crushing your opponent to a pulp, which is what a real show of power was to his image of winning. Yet, he stayed. Not to watch anything that pink girl offered, only examining you bounce around with both your own strength and the might of your quirk. He wanted you to slip up. He wanted you to make a mistake so he could justify ditching the patetic battle, but you never did. You stayed light on your feet and still struck at your opponent a few times to show examples of the defense her “babies” could provide to heroes.

Intriguing, is all he thought. He then stood and sauntered off until the second round.

The second round he watched Shoto, not as easily as he had hoped, defeat Midoriya. While he was filled with both gratification at Shoto caving into his carnal fire and enragement at that Izuku pest for giving his son the unwavering support to defy his hold over his son, he hardly realized your next battle had begun. It was against the vine girl from the Class B—first losers, rather, to him—Ibara. Unlike Mei’s challenge, you basically wiped the floor with the poor girl. You shot around the court, darting like a bat through an inky full-mooned sky, making sure to not give Ibara a chance to get the one up on you. You hardly let her breathe during the showdown, striking at her again and again from all angles. She was safe nowhere, even when hidden behind the viney defensive walls sprouting from her hair. You’d ended it neat and clean with a swift shot of your quirk, landing her out of the arena. Triumphant, you’d moved up again, but you still remained humble while helping Ibara off of the ground with a bright smile and gifted her a sincere handshake. You’d no doubt made a spectacle of yourself to the crowd and everyone watching at home, the loud cheer of encouragement erupting across the venue said just as much. Enji even hashed out a couple of light claps for your impressive display.

Your last battle was the nail in the coffin for Endeavor. You were finally fighting against his son. Of course, he was obviously rooting for Shoto to crush you, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to a nail-biting fight. He got just that. You two dove for each other—ice flung around the court in jagged peaks with you racing around the boy and firing off precisely aimed jabs of your own quirk. Blustering rushes of glacial wind flushed across the landscape. You two waltzed around in a deadly dance of effort and skill. You’d make sure Shoto knew that you weren’t to be cast aside like overlooked trash. You had grit, a will to make a name for yourself in the competitive world of heroes. You managed to last around two minutes in the ring together, which is phenomenal, considering his other battles didn’t last more than a handful of seconds. In the end, Shoto had been the victor when he caught you off guard by using his ice on the floor. He swiftly created a haphazard ice rink and slid you out of bounds. You were too exhausted from abusing your quirk so much that afternoon against your other opponents that you couldn’t stop your body from spinning out. Enji didn’t miss the way Shoto practically dashed over to your side, helped you stand up, and offered his arm for you to hold as you shakily shuffled off the slick floor to a safer spot.

Though you lost, he hadn’t forgotten how you gave his son a run for his money. You were very capable. Which is why he didn’t hesitate allowing you to become a work-study of his under the guise of helping you and your other friends out. This plan he has is not only for the benefit of his own gains, but for Shoto’s as well. He knows his son cares for you, but he has to help you see that after all of the Purge nonsense. You two would be perfect together—the perfect marriage of quirks. Of course, he tells himself that he’s not in this for the sole reason of having another powerful quirk added to his ranks. But it certainly helps him like you more.

You kept your eyes lowered, the lingering sting of defeat simmering behind your eyes and in your heart. You wanted to have an unwavering confidence like some of your classmates. You would never say this to Bakugou, but you truly did admire his “never back down” style. You had seen countless times how he barked in the faces of higher-ups, challenging their morals, their reasons for becoming heroes, and plans. It was as if he never agreed with anything they presented. The blond always had to shove his opinion into every decision made. You wanted to stare Endeavor straight in the eye as you stomped on his foot and make him see what you really thought of all their bullshit. But you couldn’t. You didn’t have it in you to ignore his authority. Guess that’s why you’re still stuck up here on this stupid roof with people you don’t want to be around, huh?

Hawks brushed back your hair, trying to examine your face for distress or injury, but all he could see was you not meeting his gaze. He wants to tell you he knows firsthand how hard this decision is—hell, even he has doubts relying on Endeavor and Mirko. He wants to say he’d be able to make this escape on his own with you. Hide you away alone so no one else has any clue where you are. That sounds like paradise to him. Alas, with so many high profiles after you now, there isn’t a chance of him making it out with his head. If he broke the agreement he resentfully made with the two, then others would certainly turn against him.

Later. He’ll strike later. Don’t you see? That’s why he’s playing the perfect little stepping stool. No one deserves you but him—not even his idol. His hero. He’ll make sure you know that too by the end of this night. Only a little longer of bearing the pretending and game of dress up, then he’ll slip away with you in tow.

“Hawks.” You heard Endeavor call out for the winged man. Daddy’s calling.

Hawks tilted your chin up so you were forced to look into his amber glow, and offered a caring smile. He hoped you could see the promise behind his eyes. The disgust masked behind a beaming smile was perfected for meeting delusional strangers and other worthless heroes. He gave Endeavor that smile, but not to you. You hoped the scowl you shot ripped his lungs out and left them rotting in a pile of maggot-riddled filth. How dare he give you such a carefree look after telling you he was going to steal away your entire life.

After Hawks walked over to converse with Endeavor, Mirko closed in. Not much was said between you two, but she did bump her hip against yours to knock you out of your own head. You turned to give her an offensive side eye, but she only fronted an unbothered look. You went to ignore her again, turning to face towards the men. However, you didn’t get far as she decided to make her personal mission to annoy you. You felt a gentle poke into your side, ticklish and fleeting. You jumped, falling for the trap and glaring at her again. This time, she had a mild grin on her face. It was obvious your displeasure fueled her joy.

“You’re cute when you’re trying to look mad,” she snorted, leaning back on her heels. She couldn’t stop looking at you, and you saw her stare through your peripheral.

You scoffed, “Trying?” You faced forward to deny her yearning for your gaze.

“Of course. I’ve seen mad before, and you’re not at that level. You’re just…peeved. Disgruntled. Ew, no, that word is too ugly to describe you.” Mirko shook her head and stuck her tongue out at the mention of the synonym. You took a deep breath and settled in to focus on the men discussing back and forth.

She circled you like a shark lunging on for her prey, but you simply turned your head the opposite direction of where she was to avoid the confrontation.

“Where you going, grumpy~?” Mirko easily caught on to your aversion. You noticed how her grin truly did resemble something shark-like. The thought crossed your mind if she was really half-bunny, or actually some predator in disguise masking the innocence of a rabbit. A wolf in sheep’s clothing

“I’m actually very interested in that bird over there. Would you look at that, it’s pretty far away.” You apathetically mused at the distant dot in the sky. You brushed her prodding away to daze off into the horizon, Mirko’s words slowly being tossed into the heaping bin of memories you wouldn’t document in your brain. Gazing across the landscape of the dark treeline surrounding UA and the few standing buildings nearby, your eyes scanning the moonlit metal of the nearby rooftops. But something else glistening on the roof caught your eye too. Something moving.

You watched it shift and reflect the moon’s rays from across the neighboring rooftop. You squinted, trying to catch exactly what was skulking around in the dark, but it strayed just beyond your sight. Whatever it was, it wanted to stay hidden.

“Absolutely not.” Endeavor’s thunderous voice startled you from your scouting. Hawks turned his head to see if you had noticed the man’s tantrum—no shit you’d notice that barbaric yell from the brute—and, in seeing your alarm, sighed. He scooted closer to the mammoth of a man, turning his back to you. You strained your ears to hear the mumbling.

“You don’t have to tell me it’s not ideal—I know that—but what other choice do you think we have?” Was all you could hear before Hawks’ voice became too faint to make out comprehensible words.

You then remembered your little “friend” in the shadows. You shot your head back to its previous position to confront the adversary. Nothing. You searched and searched the silent building, but nothing. You wanted to tell yourself that it was just your mind playing tricks in the dark, but on tonight of all nights, you knew better than to downplay your concern.

Finally acknowledging Mirko, you questioned her, “Do you see anything on that roof over there?”

She gave you an unimpressed deadpan, “Seriously? You're trying the ‘oh my gosh, what’s that over there!’ trick?”

“Wha—no!” You looked offended, but you felt a cold sweat on the side of your forehead. Inside, you knew you’d probably have tried that trick sooner rather than later, and you've got to hand it to her. She knows you well.

Before you could try to explain your reasoning, a raging flame shot to strike Hawks and Endeavor.

Miraculously, Hawks’ reflexes were quick enough to shove Endeavor and himself out of the way of the surprise attack before someone was set ablaze. The smell of burning hair permeated the area although, and you looked over to catch a glimpse of a portion of Hawks’ right wing being singed into charred black wisps. Mirko reacted nearly faster than Hawks did, grabbing your waist and maneuvering you back from the fire. It was you and Mirko parted from Hawks and Endeavor far on the opposite side of the roof.

“What the hell?” Mirko grit her teeth at the attack. Psychos getting in the way of her time with you, what a joke. Such a waste of time. She just wants to run off and find somewhere to keep you for the rest of the Purge, yet these shitty obstacles just can’t seem to get enough of you. She was going to rip them limb from limb for taking her attention off of you.

You stood with no complaint in her arms, not minding her taking the lead of your protection. You still couldn’t see who caused the disruption, but you would soon wonder no longer.

“You’re slow today, Endeavor. What? Off your game or something?” A seedy voice echoed across the way. Male, deep, commanding. You watched as the foe came to stand at the edge of the railing. Your eyes dilated at the sight. Your breath caught in your throat. You’d only cared to remember this man as the one who, with the rest of his party, ruined your training camp over the summer and kidnapped your classmate, Bakugou.

You’re shot into the past as you recount that horrible night. It had been such a great start to the day. You’d been working hard with all of your friends, aiming to better improve the longevity and resilience of all your quirks. You’d nearly tuckered yourselves out when the hero Pixie-Bob said you all had one more challenge to face before bed. The Test of Courage. It began as traditionally as any silly game teenagers played in the dark did. Then it all came crashing down at the faint, then quickly overwhelming, scent of smoke. You remember being there in that midnight-black forest, you remembered how excited you’d been at the started of that stupid game you’d agreed to play, you remember the fire that infested the trees and burnt the pretty flowers and bushes to wisps of charcoal ash, you remembered the terror and fear of being lost in said woods before Deku found you wandering alone. You remember locking eyes with the man who stoked the fires. A spearing turquoise. You’d seen a blue so vibrant like that only once before. You’d found that hypnotic color in Shoto’s left eye. Though, Shoto was a much kinder soul than the monster these captivating eyes were attached to.

In the present, you’re wrung back into that same terror as you watched his black leather trench coat gently sway in the breeze, a glinting bicep catching your eye. The metal cuffs shone from the full light of the moon along with the many staples running up and down the sleeves. He was too far away to discern an exact facial expression, but you could blatantly see the large patch of marred, burned flesh dominating the lower half of his face. The leathery substance was roughly connected to what remained of his skin untouched by flame, stitched up with bloody staples. The way it was sutured made his face forever appear as if strung upwards to mimic a sickening Cheshire grin. You wanted to say he was only generally looking around the roof, but you knew better. The villain was practically drilling daggers into you with how much he was staring. No, you couldn’t just say he was any old random villain; you knew his name. Dabi.

More bodies moved out from behind him to occupy the opposing roof. All you heard from them was laughter and unflattering comments nagged at the pro heroes.

“Wow, they’re even cuter this close~! Much better than in the crappy photos you guys took, Shiggy~,” A much higher pitched voice exhaled in an almost loving sigh. Their blonde hair was cinched up in two tangled space buns, but the mess was an intentional look. The loose strands were slicked into spikes. Cutesy and feminine, a happy aura surrounded her, but you knew better. She draped herself over the railing as if in her own ditzy world. You would have believed it was a fainting couch with how dramatically she had laid over the scenery. Much like Dabi, the girl couldn’t take her gaze off of you, but she made her presence known.

“Hiiii, (N/N)~~! Are the big, scary pro heroes getting in the way again? Don’t worry, cutie! I’ll take care of ‘em, hehe~!” Himiko Toga, you believe that’s what Aizawa said her name was, called out to you like she was the Romeo to your Juilet. You’re sure she believed that too. You’d heard Ochaco talk about her to you guys after the training camp. She told you about how the girl tackled Tsuyu and used these specialized needles to draw out blood from her victims. Uraraka experienced the threat head on as the girl had jammed one of her needles straight into her thigh with little apprehension.

Uraraka told you how obsessed the girl was with blood, a crazed look in her eye when the red substance came about. She said she loved her, loved her so much that she wanted to turn into her! Deku even chimed in and said the girl shouted to him delusional fantasies of wanting him to be her boyfriend. At the time, all you could do was shiver and brush off the fear the conversation brought by claiming she was “just another crazed lunatic”. Well, now that the girl is staring you down with her own redden irises, you felt your tongue shrivel up in your throat.

“Bloodied and carved up is the only way any of these nobody pro heroes could ever look cute. Though, the one daring to hold onto my darling definitely won’t be leaving here alive.” She sneered, completely flipping her personality into one of seething hate and disgust when she gazed upon Mirko. Toga’s rage could be felt from a mile away, and you felt Mirko hold onto you tighter.

“Toga, knock it off,” the green lizard man with the draping red scarf hollered at her, “we’ve got a job to do.” Though it was hard to see, you noticed the way his eyes would drift to you and quickly look away. Like he was nervous. Shy? The large clump of weapons taped and glued together as his arsenal seemed deadly but ineffective all in one. However, he moved rather quickly on his feet despite the added weight.

“Wow, such a beauty! Ugh, what an attention-seeker!” The same voice shouted two opposing sentences from across the way. You looked over and saw a man wearing a black and gray spandex suit, clutching the railing while waving his arm around. After yelling, it looked like one of his arms had a mind of its own as it grabbed his neck. It appeared to be he was trying to strangle himself with one hand, while the other hand sprung into action to stop the strangling. It was an odd battle of each arm trying to wrestle each other, as his head kept whipping back and forth shouting insults at…himself? You’re not entirely sure what’s going on there, but you hope he won’t start to try injuring himself with weapons next.

“Hmm, I agree with your first sentence, Twice. Do try to not scare our guest away so soon.” A regal tone stood out through the other members’ silliness. You wonder how much backup did these guys bring as a tall figure in a creamsicle colored jacket walked to the edge of the railing. His height was enhanced with a dark brown top hat he donned and the fancy cane held at his side. The most notable feature of his was the mask he hid behind. Marble man. You couldn’t remember his name, but you certainly remembered the way he trapped Tokoyami and Bakugou when he tried to run away with them in his grasp. You felt bubbling heat rise in your chest. Betrayal and resentment all wrapped into one swirl of hurt leaving a suffocating dead weight on your chest.

“Dabi, keep your shit under control or go back to the base. Get your asses moving. We’re here to take and leave, so don’t fuck this up for me.” An unseen voice was heard from further back on the roof. However, whoever it was got the lot of them hurrying off. Groaned complaints and witty remarks were heard, mostly from the black-haired male, but they soon fizzled out. You kept looking for where they were going, but soon you couldn’t see anyone anymore. It was silent yet again.

“Sorry, darling, but we don’t have time to stay and find out what happens next.” That is all Mirko said to you before she bent down to pull you up into her arms. Though, she didn’t move that far.

“MIRKO, BEHIND!” You heard Endeavor yell out to the woman in concern. You heard it before you saw it. A goopy, unnatural, burbling sound came from behind your form. You didn’t have a chance to turn around before a platform leather boot kicked Mirko’s crouched body away with little effort. She skidded across the cement, nearly all the way back to where Hawks and Endeavor were standing. You wanted to call out for her, ask if she was okay. As much as you’d felt unapologetic rage for how they’d decided to take your life away from you, you still cared about them. You probably gave them too much of your heart, but they’re still your mentors. The people you've looked up to for years in your training to become a hero. Right now, you didn’t want to be alone, as much as you’d begged for it in your mind tonight. Not with the threat of the League of Villains being what you’d have to face on your own.

You heard a sinister giggle from over your shoulder, and felt a calloused hand grasp your shoulder. Without warning, the memories you’d vaulted away with lock and key of the horrible training camp incident came flooding back with greater force than before.

That night, Izuku had found you. Tears dripped down your face as you hacked up a lung from the smoke in the air. If he’d found you any later, you’d probably have been passed out from the lack of oxygen. You ran alongside him, trying to find your way back to the rest of the class, toward any sign of a familiar face. After fleeing, you’d soon found the little boy who originally came with the Wild Wild Pussycats, Kota, with a villain in tow. Deku fought against the mammoth of a man who went by Muscular while you protected Kota from the falling rubble and terrain. After nearly getting thrown a million miles away, Izuku finally got the upperhand on the man, and knocked out the behemoth villain. You fled into the forest again, and after dropping Kota off with Mr. Aizawa and fending off Spinner to save Mandalay, you soon find Shoji and Tokoyami. However, Tokoyami could have been in better shape, as he was now overtaken by Dark Shadow’s power. Shoji explained that he and Tokoyami were attacked by a villain named Moonfish, which resulted in Tokoyami trying to use Dark Shadow to protect them, but Dark Shadow’s desire to take the reins was too great. Dark Shadow was destroying the forest in their rage, but Izuku was quick on his feet to think of using Dark Shadow to your advantage to help protect Bakugou from the villains as well.

You three lead Dark Shadow through the woods, and end up running into Bakugou and Todoroki who are facing off against the villain who tried to attack Shoji and Tokoyami before. Dark Shadow descended and made easy work of clobbering Moonfish, and the boys used their fiery quirks to release Tokoyami from Dark Shadow’s control. All of you hurried off in the direction of the facility, running into Tsuyu and Ochaco who’d been fighting off Himiko before she fled, and your large group prepared to get back safely as “Bakugou Protection Squad”. You didn’t get far as you finally noticed that Bakugou and Tokoyami were missing. The marble guy revealed himself and the League’s plan to take the boys hostage. He flew off, but the girls helped you, Shoto, Shoji, and Izuku fly to catch up to the villain.

You tackled Compress out of the sky, and fended off Twice alongside Shoto when the League fought against you. As you tried to run off as Shoji had yelled for you and Shoto to do, the warp user, Kurogiri, had stopped your escape. When Compress had shown the marbles of your friends being trapped, you saw red. You couldn’t let them be taken, you just couldn’t. It was the miracle that Aoyama’s precise shot of his Naval Laser to Compress’ face that gave you the chance you needed to save the boys.

Shoji had successfully nabbed Tokoyami’s marble, and now it was up to Shoto and you grab Bakugou’s. You were so close, just inches away, before he was ripped from you again. It was the scarred hands of the fire user that flooded your vision. You fell to the ground, empty-handed and desperately looking up at the man searching for any weakness in his grasp to steal the tiny blue-tinted glass ball from him. But it was too late.

It was an extra bit of torture—one that Dabi made sure you guys knew was on purpose—to release Bakugou from the marble so he could watch your failure. You saw the fear swimming in his red irises as he looked at you, the stiffness in his stance, the slight shake of his hands. He looked so…helpless. You’d never seen the boy in such a state of despair before. It was haunting. You stood on shaky fawn-like legs, ready to tear that villain apart with your bare hands, no Quirk needed. You wanted to make him pay for the suffering he put not only your class, but what he put everyone at the camp through tonight. But you were stopped with a gentle embrace.

Shoto had looped his arms around your midsection in a cage. You twisted back to yell at him to let you go, to let you save your friend, but his gaze gave his answer to your plea. He knew you couldn’t win. One eye filled with a harsh, cold steel of an unforgiving bind and the other swimming with a depth that rivaled even the ocean’s own fullness, you knew he wouldn’t let you go. You thrashed and screamed against Shoto, not believing you wouldn’t come out victorious in this suicide mission. You unconsciously looked at Bakugou for aid, and it was a cruel reminder that he could save you no more. Both of you being held against your will, both of you screaming for help—one screaming bloody murder, one silent as a moonless night. The savior trying to go where the victim was being taken, but the victim commanding them to stay behind.

You’ll never forget the emptiness after Bakugou was fully snatched through the portal. You’ll never forget collapsing to the dirt beside Deku, Shoto’s arm still chained tightly around your middle, and wailing your heart out.

You’ll never forgive the satisfied gleam in that evil man’s eye. Never.

Except it wasn’t Dabi’s hand this time. You looked at the pale flesh, graying and roughed from years of neglect and self hate. The fingernails were chipped and appeared to be chewed with anxiety-ridden coping. Beneath the nails looked like they’d been clawing at a cement wall, dried blood caked underneath the unmanicured bits. The twitching pinky finger dangling frivolously above the target of your shoulder made your blood run cold.

“Miss me?” Tomura Shigaraki mumbled into your ear with a snarl. You’re sure you were shaking, but you couldn’t feel anything other than the stuttery breaths you took in and out. You could only focus on the lone finger judging the worth of your entire life. One movement too erratic and you’re nothing more than a pile of ash sitting in his rotten hands. You saw Endeavor’s mouth moving, he was definitely addressing the villain, but neither of you were paying attention to the fuming man.

“Staying to chat would be fun, but I think I’ll let them do the talking for me. I would rather spend my breath talking to (Y/N) than you losers.” Shigaraki rolled his eyes. He guided you to step aside, and you reluctantly shifted. A sloshing sounded as Kurogiri’s portal grew to be much larger. Once the portal stretched high enough, a figure swished through. They shouldn’t be here. How can they get onto UA’s premises? Doesn’t this place have some kind of security measure to protect the kids, damnit?!

As if he could read your mind, he chuckled to himself, “So nice that UA’s defenses are down for the Purge. So much easier to ransack this place when I can toss a couple of these guys onto the front lawn. Makes this boss fight a clean sweep.” Out from the portal stepped a massive monster you’d come to know as one of Shigaraki’s playthings, a Nomu.

You’d seen a couple before, namely at the USJ when All Might defeated the beast nearly single-handedly and during the time you saved Bakugou from the League and All for One, but you had never been so close that you could reach out and touch it. As it lumbered past you, you could almost taste the horrifying aura it carried. The violence just itching to break out of its skin. Its body was barely keeping the violence it desires at bay. It was easy to tell how badly the creature wanted to claw the heroes to shreds, the short gasp-like breaths it took, and the stomach-turning visual of its exposed brain and nerve endings. Its unblinking eyes held no emotion. No malice, no joy. Nothing. You’d think it was an impressively realistic Halloween animatronic if it hadn’t just shambled past you.

Then, as if this situation couldn’t get any better, a second one appeared from beyond the portal. A carbon-copy of the first, just as horrifying, just as deadly. Then a third. Three of those monstrosities stood in front of you like an impenetrable wall. The barrier of such an evil force left you feeling light headed. This can’t be happening.

“Have fun, heroes! Don’t come looking for them, unless you’re looking to free up some space on the Hero Billboard Chart. Would be a shame if some of Japan’s finest didn’t make it through the Purge, huh?” Shigaraki called out to them with a scratchy cackle. You watched the three pros prep their Quirks and bodies for the fight to come, you then heard banging from the doors of the rooftop. The doors must have been locked as you heard a hell of a ruckus behind it. Though it was a multitude of voices, deep and high pitched, and lots of them. You wondered who it could be. Your teachers? Had they chased after the pros and were intent on winning you back? Or could it be…

Oh no.

Wait. They shouldn't come up here. Please. Not with these things here, not now. The Nomus had no remorse, no moral compass. They’d kill your classmates right where they stood.

“No…wait, my friends are still here. Please—,” this was the only sliver of argument that you posed against Shigaraki, with a shaking lip and a strip of silver tears lining your lower lash line. He revealed in your fear to oppose him.

“Really? Hmm. Perfect.” Shigaraki smiled a repulsive grin at you, his wrinkled red and slightly pink eyes filled with more bloodlust than you’ve known before. He began pulling you back by the shoulder, but you chose to fight. Yanking yourself forward before a different set of hands gripped your arms, your other shoulder, and your waist. You wrung your body left and right, and you felt closer to Bakugou than you ever have before. Trapped and alone, with no foreseeable aid.

Doors banged and the yelling grew louder.

Slimy drool dripped from the blood-thirst Nomus’ mouths onto the cement floor. Frothed mouths itching to latch onto body parts and tear them off.

Hawks, Mirko, and Endeavor had looks of pure panic as they could only watch you getting dragged away. Not because of the threat of the Nomus, but because they were losing you yet again.

Your screams for mercy were only acknowledged by a calloused grasp, minus the pinky, clamping over your mouth.

And just like that, you were gone.

~ To Be Continued… ~

Far away from the light of the outside world, a dark figure resided in the shadows. A large television took up nearly the entire landscape of their wall, illuminating their body with its harsh glow. A smirk lined their lips, entertained with the events unfolding on that fateful rooftop. Multiple cameras showed all angles of the fight, of their disobedience, of their foolishness.

Not you! Heavens no, not you! Never you. You were perfect, always. Always the perfect little damsel in distress. Always the most entertaining morsel. Delicate and bold at the same time. A real palette cleanser from all the other despicable acts they’ve seen before. They’ve had a lifetime and then some to experience the tiresome, dreadfully boring reality they’ve come to unwilling terms with. However, you certainly add a wonderful zing of sweetness and spice to the otherwise flavorless mush they’ve known life to taste like. They want more.

They watched the despair fill your mind, how distraught you became over the mess they’d created. They saw your beautiful eyes, so teary and wide. So much innocence and hope for this crumbling world held inside them.

They stood, brushing off the dust from their clothes, and walked towards the door that caged them inside. Oh, how wonderful it will be to meet you again. Properly, this time.

<3 — Tag List — <3

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[axiina]

I saw your post about writing for Coriolanus Snow Andi was thinking classic enemies to lovers nsfw I’ll give you free liberty with everything else 💕

'I hate you' is new 'I love you'

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral afab)

Summary: When your professor tells you to come to an agreement with your enemy, and you take 'come' too literally.

Words: 3.2k

Themes: smut, nsfw

Warnings: using of 'you' to reader, set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, more like academic rivals to lovers but they want to fight at some point so I guess it counts, NSFW | public sex (or more semi-public), unprotected sex (wrap it before tap it), p in v sex, kinda toxic but it's enemies to lovers, more like enemies who fuck, Coryo is pretty rough and possessive, marking, making out, idiots in love but they prefer fighting with each other

Author's note: I found some free time between studying, so I decided that I can no longer delay. English is not my first language so i hope that i didn't do too much mistakes. It is possible that a single "she" or "her" will appear here because I changed the concept during writing and I do not know if I got rid of everything. Let me know whether to stay with the use of 'you' or maybe replace it with personal pronouns or 'y/n'. I hope it's not written very awkwardly and you will like it!!

Coriolanus Snow is a peculiar person. Most people love him. Nice, classy, handsome and rich from a wealthy family. What more could one want? However, one of Coriolanus' traits that everyone seems to turn a blind eye to is his two-facedness. Some say this is merely a symptom of his cunning and wits. He knows when and how to behave to make his counterpart happy. You are not one of those people. Saying that you and Coriolanus Snow don't like each other is a huge understatement. You guys hate each other. From the very beginning when you both met at the academy it was known that you would cause a lot of problems. Too much of a character difference, or perhaps too much of a similarity between the two. However, this is not what is crucial. Whatever it is, it makes you two most likely to kill each other if you could. Every move you make you do to screw each other up. To prove who is better.

Professor Satyria's pleas for you to finally come to an agreement are of little use. The conflict must go on, and neither of you has any intention of giving up.

You like the way things are working out. At first, Snow was annoying and you didn't understand how people couldn't see him for what he really was. Fake. Now he is still annoying, but getting under his skin has become a sort of routine. Quite a pleasant one.

"You have to get along with each other and set a good example as rightful citizens of the Capitol, otherwise the Academy will draw out the consequences."

Professor Satyria's words continue to ring in your ears as you get ready to go home after finishing classes and doing punishment work. On the one hand, you don't want something as silly as arguing to weigh on your future, but on the other hand, reaching out to agree is like admitting you were wrong. Failure.

"Wherever I am you must also appear. Are you obsessed with me?" Behind your back, you heard a familiar, annoyingly kind voice, in which you could sense some arrogance. You groaned turning around to see no one else but Coriolanus.

"Don't you have anything better to do? People are finally getting tired of your idiocy?" Your words, however, did not budge the blond. His expression remained unchanged. One that might make most people think he is a nice person. You, however, have known him long enough to see right through it. Perfect. Too perfect.

"We need to talk. A positive outcome for both sides. It will interest you." Well, the threat of Satyria. He is the first one to extend his hand for agreement. Where is the trick? You look at him suspiciously without saying a word, and so Snow takes it as a sign that you are thinking about the proposition. "Do you have free time? Maybe we could go out somewhere together?"

The suggestion makes you burst into laughter. "With you? No thanks, I'll pass on this pleasure."

Coriolanus is not surprised by your answer. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. Accepting rejection, however, is not his strong point. He is annoyed by your behaviour, but he bites his tongue to avoid responding in the same spiteful way. Instead, he doesn't give up.

"I know we were never on good terms, but I want this war between us to end. I hope we can put behind us all the bad things that happened between us and start fresh. What do you think about this?" he says, sounding quite sincere.

"Let me think." You say and sigh, pondering the answer, which is obvious, but you can't let go of a little malice. "No."

The expression on Snow's face became more serious. It seems that your refusal offended his pride. But he doesn't show it in his tone of voice.

"Why not?" he asks and you notice how he clenches his jaw and his gaze becomes unpleasant.

You enjoy the view and it fills you with satisfaction. "Because you think that with a pretty face and fake politeness, you can get anything. Maybe it works with others, but I'm not that stupid. Additionally, you are damn annoying. That's why."

The expression on Snow's face becomes dark. Typical when he fails to get what he wants. His usual tone is completely gone. His face is twisted with anger. He still tries to maintain a polite voice. The attempt fails.

"Do you want to repeat it?" he asks through his teeth. It's obvious that you've hit one of his sensitive points. That was the plan.

"Exhausting, isn't it? Hiding behind the mask of a nice and put-together boy from a highly placed family who is a veritable ideal is tiring, isn't it?" A mockery can be heard in your voice. Coriolanus is very sensitive to it.

"What do you think you know about me?" He asks through clenched teeth, his tone no longer artificially polite, it is filled with rage. Your mockery has really gotten to him. He tries to calm down, but it's all in vain. Coriolanus has never had problems with self-control, but something about you makes him ready to abandon everything. You manage to get him off balance with ease. In his head, he has one plan. To destroy you.

"Do you think you pretend so well?" You burst out laughing and shake your head. You know you shouldn't say such things. The academy is practically empty, and Coriolanus's angry enough can be unpredictable. However, you can't help but point out everything that annoys you about him. "It's actually quite easy to see what kind of person you are. You look at people with disgust, but when they look in your direction, you suddenly change dramatically. how fake you are to everyone. I wonder how they don't see it. How empty and shallow you are."

"You don't know anything about me!" Snow shouts at you, his face twisted with rage. He is barely able to control himself. He doesn't even try to hide it anymore. He stares at you with hatred in his eyes.

"Don't you dare assume that you know everything about me. You don't know me one bit. You don't know what my life is like. Don't think so highly of yourself. You aren't better than me." He continues, his voice getting louder with every word he says. You really hit his sensitive spot.

"I don't know everything and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. For me, the most important thing is acts, and in your case, they are fake and two-faced. You despise people, and you yourself are at the bottom." Irritation takes over. You know that at any moment you can say one word too many if you haven't already. However, someone has to talk it all out for him. Adrenaline makes you take a step closer to the upset boy without considering the possible consequences.

Snow seems to be on the verge of a breakdown. His fists are clenched and his eyes are wide open with rage. He is breathing hard, trying to control himself. He's not used to being treated this way by anyone. He has come this far over the years, solely because of himself and what role he has taken in society. You really succeeded in hurting his pride. "I warn you right now. Don't mock me any further."

"Why? What will you do? hit me? do it, I dare you. Then everyone will see how "perfect" you really are." You know the situation is starting to get dangerous. However, you come closer. It's stupid, you know it, and yet you do it. Maybe it's the way his reactions give you satisfaction, or maybe it's the way he looks at you.

You can see the hatred oozing from his eyes when they are locked on yours. His face is full of rage, his breathing heavy and his muscles tense.

He takes a step toward you with a clenched fist. You can see his knuckles turning white. He grabs you and presses you against the wall, his body against yours.

A second later, you feel him pressing you against the wall tighter than before, and his hand grips your throat.

You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. Your heart is pounding as if it wants to jump out of your chest. You feel a strange sensation in your lower abdomen. His eyes are cold, yet they make a pleasant shiver run through your body. His face is right next to yours, flesh pressing against yours. It was a matter of split seconds as you two pressed your lips to each other in an aggressive and hungry kiss.

He returns the kiss, wrapping his free hand around you. He seems to enjoy the kiss as much as you do.

You can feel his body trembling as he still tries to keep control of his overwhelming emotions, or maybe it's because of the situation you're in.

The two of you kiss aggressively. Snow's body shakes as he fights between his desire and how much you get on his nerves. You feel how rough but passionate his kiss is.

He draws you closer and your bodies press against each other. The friction of your bodies makes you uncontrollable over the muffled whimpers you make. You feel the bulge forming in his pants rubbing against your body.

The situation seems hazy, and only fragments register in your mind. How you both enter the bathroom without stopping your hungry and clumsy kisses, and your hands work to get rid of clothes that only makes it difficult. How Coriolanus presses your body against the wall slamming his hips against yours.

All this is to express yourself and give vent to all the negative emotions you have been holding for years.

Snow's body is now almost completely controlled by his emotions. His movements seem full of hatred and at the same time passion. He just wants to express himself using his flesh to claim you as his own.

You feel as if you are on fire, your body moves and reacts according to your desires. The tension that has built up between you for years is finally released, and it all comes out as raw passion.

His fast and aggressive movements make the place where your bodies meet burn in a pleasant way, and you think to yourself that it will be a miracle if you walk normally tomorrow. His dick stretches you nicely and his movements make your inside sting slightly. It's not a problem for now. Not now when your legs are wrapped around his waist and the only sounds you can make right now are moaning and repeating his name like a mantra.

Your body trembles at how rough his movements are, but you don't care now. The most important thing for you now is to show him how much you hate him. A broken moan leaves your lips when he reaches deeper.

Coriolanus feels your legs tighten around him. He moves slower now but is more passionate and rough. He holds your hips tightly, not caring if it is uncomfortable for you. His lips move to your neck, where he bites as if he is trying to unload all the emotions you are causing you this way.

His hips buck firmly against you. Each thrust makes your body more tired and aching but at the same time, it makes the whole experience even more pleasurable. If someone told you that you would end up having sex with your biggest rival in the academy bathroom, you would laugh in that person's face. There you are, panting, with your arms around his neck when Coriolanus Snow is abusing your cunt sensitive from too much friction.

Coriolanus brings his lips closer to your ear. His warm and irregular breathing makes a shiver go through your body. "Do you like it when I claim you as mine?" He purrs, his voice still filled with desire.

"I hate you, I hate you so much," You exhale in a trembling voice that takes a lot of trouble to keep from cracking. You bite and suck at the smooth skin of his neck, leaving there dark marks. "I hate you, Coriolanus Snow."

"I hate you too," Snow says with a low growl as he continues to hold you. He bites your shoulder, leaving marks on your skin. His moans are muffled by your skin, which he touches constantly, as if afraid that at any moment you might escape and leave behind only a faint memory.

You hate him, but you enjoy him. You are pleased when he takes you as his own. You are excited when he uses your body. You feel his passion and desire through his body. You feel his raw passion and it's hard to hate him now.

"oh go to hell" You hiss and bite your lower lip to stop your moans, feeling him moving faster.

He doesn't care if he hurts you or not. All he cares about is that you belong to him right now. His hips slam against yours in an aggressive peace. The bathroom is filled with sinful noises because you don't even think about the fact that someone might come in and hear them.

"you may have already fallen in love, but with me, it's not so easy" A trembling laugh leaves your lips. You feel your head getting foggier and foggier. It's hard for you to put together a meaningful sentence, "but you're doing a good job" a loud moan leaves your mouth. you close your eyes and throw your head back "mmm my sweet toy."

He hears your moans of pleasure, and his eyes close with a smile. He has won and he knows it. Snow always lands on top. He presses you against the wall with his body even tighter. His movements become more sloppy and deeper as if he wants to bury himself inside you. His body trembles as his lips leave broken moans and whimpers.

Passion is so strong that you can almost forget about hatred. You can almost fall in love with Coriolanus Snow. Almost. But you know that what you feel now is only lust, and you know that it's all temporary.

Not him. Not the arrogant boy whose whole life is based on lies. Not that boy who doesn't care about anyone. Not that boy with a beautiful face and mesmerizing blue eyes. Not him.

You press closer to his body, almost clinging to him as a wave of pleasure sweeps over your body.

Coriolanus lets out a raspy throaty moan feeling your walls pulsate around him. His voice is low and shaky. He doesn't seem to notice anything except the way you cling to his body. He moves faster and harder, making sure he satisfies you completely.

Snow is fully immersed in feelings. He can't think clearly or rationally. He only knows that he has to claim you, that he has to satisfy his needs. He wants to feel you and make the most of the situation. All his thoughts and desires are focused on you. His hip movements speed up as he reaches the climax. He hides his face in your neck to muffle his moans. His body stiffs as he comes inside you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist. you cling to each other, still not making contact with the real world as your breathing slowly calms down.

What happened in that bathroom is over, they both return to reality. Snow steps back slightly and helps you stand on your own two feet. He looks at you with heavy eyes. All the emotions he had been hiding inside him had finally been released.

He has won and he knows it. He has succeeded. But what now? Was it really worth it? This is not a question for now. Coriolanus does not look far into that future with his thoughts.

You look at each other in silence. Slowly you begin to realize what you have done and now you look at each other awkwardly and somewhat panicked.

Coriolanus is the first to break the silence. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing is faster. The passion he felt a minute ago still lingers in his heart, something he tries to hide from you. He looks at you with a somewhat absent and uncertain gaze

"Do you think we should forget what just happened?" He tries to make his voice sound normal as if nothing had happened.

"Definitely." The words leave your lips before you have time to think. You stare at each other in silence for a few more moments and begin to quickly put on your clothes.

Snow is surprised at how quickly you agree with him. He needs to make sure this is the end of what just happened between the two of you, so he adds.

"If anyone asks, it never happened." He now looks at you with a somewhat panicked expression on his face.

"You don't have to tell me," you scoff, buttoning your shirt, "if you tell even one soul, I'll kill you, I swear."

Coriolanus looks at you with small amusement while fixing his jacket. "I hope you won't become obsessed with me after this."

"Maybe in your dreams," you say with a slight smile fixing the collar of his shirt. " you better be careful that you are the one who will be lost in memories of me." Before you leave the bathroom you stop in front of the mirror and fix your uniform and hair. Coriolanus smiles for a moment but then quickly clears his throat and tries to look cold.

You both come out of the bathroom, look at each other and part your lips, as if to say something to each other, but you look at each other in silence "Now everything is back to normal. We can still hate each other," you say, but this does not improve your mood at all.

"It never happened," Snow says trying to look you in the eyes, wondering if you're thinking about it too. He wonders if what he feels is real, or if it's just a moment of passion.

"Never" You agree by nodding your head. Your gaze goes down to his mouth. As you look into his eyes again without a moment's thought you move closer to him and press your lips to his in-hungry kiss. He kisses you back wrapping his arms around you to bring your body closer.

You parts away after some time and you both catch your breath for a moment after this passionate kiss. Coriolanus is completely consumed with passion and there is nothing in his mind but you.

You move away and nod to each other as if you have just made a deal and each is walking in your own direction in a much better mood.

Maybe that's not exactly what Professor Satyria meant when she said you two should come to an agreement, but it certainly worked.

[svltzmans]

illicit affairs - f.g.

a/n: hi! here's a cute little blurb based on a request i got recently 😁 i'm kinda obsessed with this fiona x milkovich! reader concept

warnings: making out (i think that's it) (oh and also this is unedited) (but you probably knew that already lmao)

"mmmph, fiona," y/n slurs between kisses from her girlfriend. "you're so perfect."

fiona smiles against y/n's lips, not wasting any time pressing hers against them again.

fiona and y/n had decided to keep their relationship under wraps for a while, not wanting to create any commotion.

considering that fiona had never dated a woman before and that their brothers were dating, it would be quite a shock.

nonetheless, the chemistry between them was too strong, and became undeniable.

luckily, it had been possible for them to spend time together when the kids were at school or when fiona was able to sneak off.

fiona climbs on top of y/n, the kiss heating up by the second.

fiona and y/n are too captivated by each other for either of them to hear fiona's bedroom door opening.

"hey fiona, mickey and i are gonna go to- oh, what the fuck?"

it's ian, and he's standing in the doorway with his mouth agape.

behind him is mickey, y/n's younger brother, staring blankly at the scene in front of him.

fiona practically leaps off y/n's lap, knowing they had been caught.

"i, um, ian, i thought you were out for the day?" fiona mutters, flustered by the situation.

"you guys don't knock around here?" y/n jests, trying to provide comic relief. fiona giggles, but ian and mickey are still frozen in shock.

"okay hold on a minute, you two are... fucking? or what?" mickey speaks, gesturing with his hands as he does.

"um, more than that," fiona responds first, noticing that y/n appears slightly unnerved by her brother's reaction.

ian and mickey look at each other, both cracking a smile.

"we both thought we were the gay siblings, jesus," ian laughs, the rest of the room following.

"no better connection than a gallagher and a milkovich, i guess," mickey adds, looking at ian. "right ian?" he says, giving his boyfriend a gentle smack on the ass.

"at least we got a room, unlike you two freaks," fiona quips.

"at least we told you we were dating," ian teases, hoping for a reaction from his sister.

he gets one, with fiona standing and starting to chase him.

left alone in the room, mickey and y/n look at each other for a few seconds.

"y/n?" mickey breaks the silence first.

"yeah?"

"if ian's sister..."

"fiona," y/n interrupts.

"yeah, fiona, whatever, if she hurts you..."

"you don't have to be so protective, mickey. she is to me what ian is to you. you know that."

mickey softens, swallowing the rest of his words.

"fine. just, lock the door if you ever have her over to our house, would you?"

[spacedace]

Here have some snippets of the AU that’s taken over my brain (featuring Elle unintentionally dunking on both of Bruce’s identities, Clark realizing he passed his taste in partners on to his son, a bit of pre/unaware that they are dating Super Serious Chaos, and some blink-and-you-miss-it background Enemies to Lovers Dick/Dan)

---

“Sorry, who’s Bruce Wayne?”

The room when quiet. All heads turned to look at Elle at the end of the table. Bruce didn’t visibly react, but Clark could make out the subtle indication of disbelief that his old friend was feeling - that they all were feeling at the interpreter’s question. Elle, suddenly aware she had the full room’s attention, had the look of someone who realized they’d said something wrong, but didn’t know what.

“You’re kidding.” John said, “You know Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows Bruce Wayne.”

Elle blinked. “I don’t.” She glanced from face to face, “Is he like a big deal? Does he work here or something? I haven’t been around that long so I might have missed him.”

It took every bit of self control Clark had not to laugh. His voice still came out a bit strangled from the effort as he offered, “No he doesn’t work here.” If Bruce was the type to do so in uniform, he’d be kicking Clark under the table.

“You live in Gotham. You have to know Bruce Wayne.” Barry said, voice going a bit high with growing bewilderment. “Mega ba-jillionair. CEO of Wayne Tech? Richest man in Gotham - in the world? Has like a hundred kids?”

Their interpreter’s nose scrunched. “So he’s like…in one of those fundamentalist cults obsessed with having a bunch of kids or something?”

Bruce actually twitched at that. The sound of utter disgust in Elle’s voice at the concept, the complete and total lack of any kind of recognition she had for the single most famous non-crime or crime-fighting related person in the city that she lived in, she truly had no idea who they were talking about. Clark had to get a recording of the room’s security feed, Lois would love this. Oh, wait no, Bruce’s kids. Maybe if he was fast enough he could text Dick to get there ASAP so he could see it all in person before it was over.

“No! Nothing like that! He adopted them - well most of them.” Barry tried to explain, looking utterly lost as he turned from Elle to the rest of them and back again. “You’re messing with us right? This is like a joke?”

Elle shook her head, looking just as lost as Barry did. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Do you know Dick Grayson?”

“I know of an officer Grayson who is a dick. Total tool. He’s been making my brother’s Dan’s life miserable for like a year now. Pretty sure not who you’re talking about though.”

“Jason Todd.”

“The library goon?”

“Tim Drake.”

“Sounds like a Dark Wing Duck character.”

“Cassandra Cain.”

“Isn’t that the author that started out writing incest Harry Potter fanfic?”

“Duke Thomas?”

“What’s he a Duke of?”

Barry snapped his fingers, pointing emphatically at Elle with a look of victory on his masked face as he shouted, “Damian Wayne!”

Damian, who had at that moment just walked into the meeting room with Jon at his heels paused in his place just behind Elle. He did pretty well at hiding his surprise at Barry seemingly shouting his civilian name and pointing at him upon walking in. Though the tense line of his shoulders suggested that if Barry was actually revealing his secret identity without warning or permission, there would be blood.

Stella Nightingale, unaware of the almost-kinda identity reveal going on around her, tilted her head in confusion at the speedster. “I’m assuming he’s related to that Bruce Wayne guy?”

“They’re all related to Bruce Wayne.” John said with open amusement now. The Green Lantern had given up on the research entirely, watching the entire debacle with a growing smirk he kept casting towards Bruce. “That man’s face is plastered absolutely everywhere in the news. How do you not know who he is?”

“If Lois Lane hasn’t written about him he can’t be that important.” Elle said with a casual certainty of one speaking a core tenant of their beliefs. Clark’s opinion of the young woman - already quite high considering her ferocious loyalty and fondness to Jon - rose sharply.

“You’re read the Daily Planet?” Clark asked, warmth curling in his chest at the mention of his wife and her work.

“I read articles by Lois Lane.” Elle said promptly, “I tried reading some articles that Kent guy she partners with sometimes wrote on his own but I couldn’t get past his writing style. Dude sounds like he’s from outer space with his word choice sometimes.”

Bruce, looking far too pleased, gave a quiet and not terribly convincing cough as Clark tried to will his soul back into his body.

It was going to be a long day.

—

“You are at least aware of who Gotham’s vigilantes are, yes?” Damian asked with a raised brow behind his mask.

Elle shrugged, giving him a sly smile. “The relevant ones.”

Clark tried to hide his short laugh with a feigned cough. Elle at least was distracted enough with Jon and Damian’s attention to notice but Bruce was giving him a look over the tablet he was trying - and undoubtedly failing - to review files on.

Jon grinned eagerly from his spot beside Elle as he asked, “Aren’t they all relevant to you? You live in Gotham.”

“I live in Crime Alley.” Elle corrected, bumping his shoulder with hers. “We have different standards of relevancy there.”

“So what are the relevant ones then?” Clark asked, pointedly ignoring Bruce’s burning stare. They’d get back to the research. Eventually. Finding out if the Gothamite who had been spending all her free time with Phoenix and Flamebird for the past year and a half was as oblivious to her city’s heroes as she was its celebrities was too entertaining a notion to pass up.

“Phoenix, obviously.” She grinned cheekily at Damian across the table, ticking names off her fingers as she continued. “Red Hood. Spoiler. Uh…Orphan?” She trailed off, forehead scrunching in concentrated thought.

“That’s can’t be all the ones you know.” Jon gaped, eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced over to were Bruce was seated, not five feet away before turning back to watch Elle try to rack her brain for any more Gotham vigilantes. Clark could see the moment that the words are taken as a challenge as Elle sat up and looked more determined.

“No, shut up, I know more. Uh…there’s the one, um Red Sparrow? It’s another bird one with red name, I’m pretty sure. And the one with the blue - fuck I should know his name. Nightjar? Wasn’t Nightingale I would have remembered that…shit, dude threw up on our couch once I should remember his name -“

“Nightwing threw up on your couch?”

“Nightwing! That’s the bitch! He got poisoned or something and Dan drug him to our place to patch him up since Doc Thompkins’ clinic was closed.”

Clark shared a look with Bruce and Damian. Dick had failed to mention that little event. Clark could see Bruce reaching for his wrist computer, undoubtedly typing out a message his eldest about what he’d just heard - possibly another to Alfred if he was feeling like pulling out the big guns.

At the other end of the table Elle ticked Nightwing off with a nod, even as Jon squawked that it shouldn’t count since he’d given her the name, “Then there’s…uh…oh! Harley Quinn!”

“Harley Quinn does not count.”

“She beat up a guy trying to mug me last week and got me a hot chocolate afterwards, she totally counts!”

“Someone tried to mug you?”

“Crime Alley, Nix, if someone doesn’t try to mug me while I’m out I get worried that I missed Hood calling in a Street Clear for something big.”

“We’re going to circle back on that later.” Jon said, sharing a pointed glance with Damian. It looked like young Miss Nightingale was going to be getting escorted to and from the Watchtower from now on.

Ah, Clark mused, falling head over heels for someone with no understanding of the concept of self-preservation and a stubborn determination to run straight into the heart of danger without a second thought. It brought back such fond memories. Of both Lois and Bruce. And Diana. And - Hmm. Kara might have been right. Clark might have a type.

Watching the three at the other end of the table and taking them in, Clark realized he might have passed his taste in partners on to his son. Well, at least he’ll be able to give Jon some advise on how to handle the heart attacks Damian and Elle will inevitably give him.

“Harley Quinn doesn’t count. You got any more?”

Elle rolled her eyes, muttering about Harley totally counts, before leaning back in her chair. “I think I’m out. I know there’s more but,” She gave a shrug, “I’m tapped out. Those are all the ones I can think of.”

It was, surprisingly, Bruce that spoke up at that declaration, a slant of amusement to his lips as he asked, “No one else comes to mind?”

Elle waved him off, attention turning to the mountain of alien script they needed her to translate for them. It was the reason she was even there rather than in her office trying to translate whatever incredibly dangerous magic tomb JL Dark had dropped off without accidentally summoning a demon or ending hte world in the process. J’onn was right, they really should give her a raise.“That’s all I got.” She said with a sigh, “Like I said, I know the relevant ones.”

“Hn.”

Twenty minutes of shared looks of amusement and suppressed laughter later Elle’s head shot up, a look of wide eyed embarrassment on her face. “Oh my god.”

“There it is.”

“About time Nightingale, I was starting to be concerned about your mental faculties.”

“Shut up, this so embarrassing!”

“Don’t sweat it kid, we all have our moments.”

“I can’t believe I forgot Signal.”

“What.”

---

Context of this snippet if anyone is interested:

This is actually the same AU as the Steph & Jason sibling bonding Anger Management snippet from a bit ago (I’m calling it my Ghosts in Gotham AU in scrivener so I guess that’s what I’ll call it here lol). This time focused on Elle and her misadventures as a Totally Normal Civilian (TM) working for the Justice League with her two besties Jon & Damian (none of them realize yet that they’ve been dating for months).

No idea when this is supposed to take place in terms of timeline with the other snippet, but kinda vibing the idea that while Steph & Jason are having a heart to heart on a rooftop over their shared background and Jason’s future as a dad, Elle is up in the Watchtower telling Bruce Wayne to his face that she has no idea who he is and forgetting Batman is a Gotham vigilante while he’s sitting at the same table as her.

Anyway, this AU has taken over my life. Expect more nonsense to come lol

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hi,just wanted to ask if you would be able to write about people reacting to Aegon in displaying PDA with either his wife or lover.

Like the touches are not sexual but like lingering and innocent, people can see how in love they are or how deep their connection is.

It can also be a brothel worker (I love your latest piece of work) that he cares deeply for and wouldn't mind showering her with affections as she did him.

Anyway, just saying your writings got me into knowing the dom and sub in a very gentle and comfortable way. Love you!

I'm so glad to hear you enjoy my content!! Also yeah I love when dom/sub dynamics can be so gentle and sweet and very very healthy and communicative. Loads of people tend to think that BDSM is purely slapping people and calling them whores but that's not even close to the truth. In case you guys couldnt tell I am most certainly a certified soft dom and service dom.

Anyway, I love this idea! I think I'm going to write this with Aegon and his wife instead of brothel worker? I'm very happy to do a brothel worker one if you guys would like I just think he concept makes a bit more sense with wife!reader. If you have thoughts about this with brothel worker!reader and how that would work then feel free to let me know!! I'd be happy to explain on it.

Back to the point, there's nothing too explicit in this answer so no cut to hide behind, but it's very clearly sub!aegon so bare that in mind before you decide to read :))

I've said this before and I'll say it again: at first your marriage with Aegon is like any other arranged marriage and you're only seen together when absolutely necessary. But then you start to get to know each other and your dynamic starts to become more dom/sub and from there he is absolutely OBSESSED with his wife and everyone knows it.

So the PDA starts once the dom/sub dynamic has been sorted out.

As we all know, Aegon is very needy. He's a needy, jealous kinda pathetic little thing and he wants nothing more than to watch his wife be so much smarter than him and get to be her little gremlin cheerleader who followers her around and has no thoughts whatsoever. Now obviously he's the actual king so he needs to be seen a little more in control than that, as Allicent is always reminding him, but that's not to say he actually tries to seem that way.

If you're in public with Aegon then you are always next to him. If you get called away and are gone for more than a few minutes then Aegon will start looking for you because where are you??!! You're his wife!! How are you be away from him for more than a few minutes!!

He's been known to come up from behind you and wrap both his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind and resting his head on your shoulder while you're talking to someone else. He won't actually contribute to the conversation and if the people you're talking to try to include him he simply won't respond. He's not there to actually joint the conversation, he's there because his wife is!

When he's holding court, Aegon will never allow you to be standing with all the others below the thrown. Historically that is where the queen consort has always been, standing with the other ladies of the court while the king sits on the iron thrown.

Before you two became closer you wouldnt even attend Aegon's court and he didnt care. But when you start to get closer and you start come to court, he point blank refuses to let you stand with all the other ladies. You're the queen!! What are you doing down there???

The first time this happens, you had spent the night with him and he asks you to come to court with him. You agree of course, and you enter the thrown room together. He walks as he usually does and goes up the stairs to the thrown. He turns around and he's about to sit when he realises you arent with him. He looks around and sees you've moved to the side with the other ladies of the court.

"What are you doing over there?" Aegon asks you. He tilts his head and chuckles because he thinks it's absolutely hilarious that you'd actually think you had to stand there with all of them. He tells you to come up with him, and you do walk up the stairs to the thrown but when you get there you simply speak softy to him, reminding him that there's only the iron thrown and not anything else to sit on so you ask if he wants you to stand next to him for the entire thing.

Obviously this is unacceptable to him. He would never make you do that.

He ends up insisting you sit on the actual thrown and he literally just sits on the stairs besides you. Everyone, including you, doesn't know what to think of this but Aegon has no issues whatsoever. Honestly he's very happy sitting on the stairs and listening to all the different things people come to him about. Very often he'll look up at you, silently asking for your opinion and when you do start speaking, he doesn't look back at the person you're speaking to but instead he keeps his eyes on you. He looks so very clearly in love and in awe of you and pretty quickly everyone gets used to it.

After that court day you try to suggest he gets another chair next to the thrown or something but he actually refuses? He really likes sitting on the stairs, likes that you get the thrown. When you try to tell him that you're not sure if that's even allowed he simply reminds you that he's king.

Pretty soon all the paintings of Aegon during his reign are actually him on the stairs with you on the thrown, many of them show Aegon looking up at you and not even looking straight ahead.

That really shows everyone what your dynamic is. You're always calm and collected and very kind when needed. Aegon, meanwhile, is utterly obsessed with you and is always looking at you like he's in awe you're actually his wife.

Of course you're also always holding hands when walking together, or linking arms.

[yameoto]

NEW BOT ALERT! — new ex babysitter!sam carpenter bot for uh. health and wealth purposes. the concept was inspired by this excellent oneshot that drives me apeshit wild.

(ex) babysitter!sam headcanons.. because i’m doin those, now. expect a lot more to come.

✗ warnings ; large age gap (sam 26, reader 18-19), nsfw at bottom. dom/sub.

an absolute sucker for you. like when you were little and you wanted something— like an extra helping of dessert or to ditch out on homework: all you had to do was pout and blink up at her with those big, pleading doe eyes and she'd cave immediately. two seconds flat, easy. now? that still hasn't changed. you have her wrapped around your finger with a single look and it drives her crazy.

would spoil you to PIECES. ofc when u she used to babysit you she would pay for everything, but even now that you're a grown adult with an (albeit low-paying) part-time job, she'd find any excuse to spoil you. just.. coming home with random gifts at any point of the week. like it could be 4pm on a thurday afternoon and she could come up behind you like "baby, you know those headphones you really wanted..? well.."

or jst going out shopping with her and you wouldnt even have to ask for her to pay because she'd be striding to the counter with her card out, already.

definitely calling you "princess". i mean, that's what you are, right? you always have been, always will.

makes her knees weak when you call her "sammy" . you'd exclusively call her it when you were a kid and despite all efforts to prevent this, now, still makes her chest collapse when you say it. and when u add the cheeky little conjunction my, in front of it? oh, boy. just know you're getting more than a good night's kiss, tonight.

she loves it when you whine or beg her for anything. like.. loves.

she just likes taking care of you in general, so anytime you go to her for anything it makes her happy which is kind of fucking adorable. but she finds you coming to her for help adorable, too, so.. win-win?

can never stay mad at you. even on days where u make it your life's mission to annoy her (its your job to keep her on her toes!) she legitimately just.. can't — and believe her, she's tried. stuck in a perpetual state of mild exasperation.

veryyy protective nd possessive . but in more subtle manners like very adamantly refusing to let you walk on the side of pavement next to the road. or always having either an arm wound around your waist or your shoulders or interlocking your fingers — anything that keeps you safe and snug by her side. she’s just so used to the feeling of protecting u and she kinda just never wants it to stop.

..nsfw!

uses the fact she used to babysit you for EVIL. in stupid ways like smirking and asking if you want her to "tuck you in" before bed, except she's straddling your chest and gently prising your mouth open with her thumb and 'tucking you in' means 'choking on her cock'.

obsessed with bouncing you on her lap. u guys cld be doing something completely innocent, like watching tv with the whole gang in the room and she'll pull u onto her lap and slowly start to rock you on her thigh, like how u used to when u were a kid. except this time, you're both grown up and her knee's sliding upwards and pressing against your cunt and oh. whispering "shh," in your ear as she continues to grind her knee up your skirt, fucking purring at all the pretty little noises you make.

actively enjoys punishing you when you get too bratty. she finds your whines adorable, of course, but if she's feeling too grouchy she's not above replacing those complaints in your mouth with you know — something more substantial.

adores praising you and calling you endearments during sex. calling you a sweet little thing and whispering soft, reverential promises into your ear as she absolutely ruins you.

cups your jaw and forces you to look at her when you suck her off. utterly obsessed with that wide, glazed-over look in your eyes whenever you're on your knees for her. the way your adorable little puppy eyes go all glassy nd sparkly w tears when she rams her hips forward and makes you sputter. cradling the back of your head and holding you there as she thrusts, cooing sweet nothings while she bruises the back of her your throat.

[thatmrmiller]

Every Man Gets his Wish

Warnings: 18+ smut, significant age gap, virgin!reader, kinda purity/corruption kink, problematic conversations around the hetero-normative concept of virginity, unprotected sex, power imbalance, cheating, blackmail/ coercion, noncon, forced breeding. Dead Dove, very creepy content, overall discretion advised.

WC: 3.1k

A/N: credit to @serenaxpedro for the prompt, what an idea... Title is from the unreleased Lana song!

Sarah Miller was your college roommate. You became friends quickly, she was bubbly and personable and you felt as though you had known her for years.

Soon it turned into something else, you weren't sure you were necessarily official, but you fooled around together and dated. Then, one weekend, she invited you to go home with her.

So there you were, in her childhood bedroom. Her dad was out and you were both hanging out the window, sharing a joint. She was giggly at the best of times but combined with the weed, she was downright ridiculous.

"Shhh!" You urged. "What if he comes home?"

"You think he didn't smoke weed in his twenties?" She laughs.

"That's different, you- We-" She pulls a silly expression, waiting for you to go on, but you burst out into laughter before you can finish your thought.

After the joint is finished you lay in bed together, her on her back with her head on the pillow and you on your stomach next to her, kicking your legs up in the air behind you.

You point out a poster on the wall "Who the hell is that?" You ask.

She laughs and gets out her phone. "A band I was obsessed with when I was younger. Listen."

She plays a terrible song, an angsty boyband and you laugh along with her.

You hadn't even heard her dad's truck pull up or him enter the house.

"I had such a crush on him." She admits, showing you a photo of one of the band members.

"Gross." You say.

"I thought you liked guys too?" She responds.

"I do, I guess, but I'm picky."

"What do you mean by picky?"

"Well... I've slept with probablyyyy..." You drag out the word. "I don't know. A few girls at least. But never a guy."

She laughs. "So you're a virgin?"

You throw a pillow at her softly. "I'm not a-" You laugh too. "I'm not a virgin. There's nothing that says you must sleep with a dude to lose your virginity."

She hums, unconvinced.

Neither of you are aware that her dad is standing right outside the bedroom door. He hadn't even meant to snoop, he was just going to knock and tell you he was home. But he was interested in the conversation and listened in.

"I just have never met a guy I was remotely interested in sleeping with. They're so. Bleh." You pull a face as you make the mocking sound and she laughs.

"Well you're in college now so I'm sure that will change."

"College boys are no better than high school boys. They all suck." You giggle.

"I'm hungry." She announces, and jumps off the bed.

Just then, a knock sounds on the bedroom door.

"Can I come in?" A gruff voice sounds.

Your eyes widen in panic, worried he will come in, smell the weed, and lose his shit. You know your own dad would. Sarah sees your nerves and rolls her eyes at you.

"What is it?" She responds.

The door opens and you see Sarah's dad for the first time. He is tall and broad, visibly muscular under his tight dark tshirt. You look away, worried you were staring. But then again, you're high, and paranoid, and you probably weren't.

"Just came in to say I'm home. You girls need anything?" He asks.

"Food." Sarah says quickly. Too quickly. You shoot her a look.

He just laughs, muttering "I wonder why." Then he continues, "Well I went to the store today. There's chips, and, other stuff, I think."

She is already pushing past him.

He watches her go and then his gaze turns to you. He is smirking. He must be able to tell you are squirming with anxiety.

"I don't care about the weed." He says.

Your eyes are still wide in panic. You don't know what to respond.

He walks further into the room, still watching you.

"So..." He says. "You're Sarah's... Girlfriend?"

You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Shouldn't you ask her that?" You say. Admittedly, it maybe comes out ruder than you intended.

He laughs and whistles. "Alright. Feisty. I see why she likes you."

You don't respond. You continue to stare at him. You don’t know what he wants from you, and the whole ‘Cool Dad’ thing isn’t particularly impressive to you.

He licks his lips. “Anyway, from what I hear, sounds like you’re a good girl. So I don’t mind.”

You wonder what he means by that and realise he must have heard the conversation that you were having just before he came in. If it was possible, you feel yourself blushing harder.

His gaze is practically painful, you feel so embarrassed. The look on his face tells you that he knows this, and something else behind his eyes tells you he might even be enjoying it.

“I liked what I heard.” He says. You can see his gaze wandering all over you, you are only wearing a vest and shorts. “Always better to skip messing around with boys and wait for a man.”

You don’t meet his eye.

Sarah’s footsteps approach and he goes to leave the room, shooting you a wink.

She enters with her arms ladened with chips, soda, and candy.

You laugh at the sight of her. She closes the door behind herself with her foot.

“What did he want?” She asks, dropping her stash on the bed.

“Oh umm…” You try and think of what to say. “Just asking how school’s going.”

She laughs. “Surprising. He doesn’t take an interest in my degree.”

You just smile back and shrug. You feel bad about lying but you don’t know how to explain that you think her dad might have been creeping on you.

You lay in bed together, eating snacks and playing on your phones.

After a while, you’re thirsty. “I need water.” You say.

“Go help yourself.” She says, smiling.

“What if your dad’s downstairs?” You ask.

“It doesn’t matter.” She responds.

“But-”

“Don’t be a baby.” She taunts. “You can go to the kitchen without me holding your hand.”

You hit her playfully. She knows you’re not even shy so you don’t have a good excuse as to why you don’t want to go down alone.

You groan loudly and stand up.

“Can I at least get a sweater? I feel naked.”

She gestures to one strewn over her chair.

“Thanks.” You say. You put it on and it drowns you, covering your shorts.

You tiptoe down to the first floor quietly, not wanting your movements around the house to be easily noticeable.

You hear the television on as you get to the bottom of the stairs and realise he is in the living room, you would have to walk directly past him to get to the kitchen.

You flash him a smile as you pass, and he stares at you. You turn round when you enter the kitchen and he’s still staring, his eyes glued to your ass. He doesn’t even try to be subtle. Gross.

You find the cupboard that contains the glasses and run the tap. You jump as you turn round and find he is standing there, only the kitchen island separating you.

“Cute sweater.” He says, pointing at your chest.

“Umm…” You look down. It has the name of a baseball team on it. “It’s Sarah’s.”

“Actually, it’s mine.” He corrects.

“Oh. Sorry. She gave it to me.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, darlin’. Looks good. Keep it.” He says, nodding.

You don’t argue, but it’s not like you are actually going to keep it. You’ll just take it right back off and give it to Sarah. You only put it on so you didn’t attract his attention. It unfortunately had the opposite effect.

You have dealt with creepy guys before, but you have never been in their house. It is so much more intimidating. The fact he was attractive made it harder too, drawing you to him despite the obvious danger he posed.

You offer him a stiff smile and go to make your way round the kitchen counter and past him. He sidesteps and blocks your path.

An awkward laugh escapes you, and you look up at him.

He watches you, smiling. The tension is getting to you. He doesn’t make any move out of your way.

“What do you want from me?” You whisper.

“What? Nothing, sweetheart.” He says, frowning in confusion.

For a moment, you thought he was being genuine and you think you might have been reading this all wrong. Guilt twinges at you and you consider the situation. Maybe he was just lonely and awkward. Maybe Sarah didn’t have people round often and he was genuinely trying to be welcoming in his own way.

But he still doesn’t move.

“Excuse me.” You whisper.

He reaches a hand out to touch your face. You recoil but he pursues you, taking another step closer.

He runs his thumb across your lips.

“Funny. What you said earlier about being a virgin. It’s so obvious to me now.” He says.

You freeze in place, feeling your face heating in shock and embarrassment.

“There’s this… Look in your eyes. And how shy and embarrassed you get, how much you blush.” He says softly. One of his hands is gently stroking at your face, his thumb still tracing your bottom lip.

You try not to meet his eye, desperately looking for something else to focus on.

“Maybe you could use a lesson.” He muses.

“Mr Miller I-”

He finally steps away. “Hey, no pressure. I’m just kidding.”

Then, as you walked away, he slapped your ass.

You curse yourself for moments ago considering giving him the benefit of the doubt. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You couldn’t turn to face him so you scurried back up the stairs. You heard him chuckle behind you and your skin crawled. What was this guy’s problem?

You slammed the door behind you after hurrying into Sarah’s room.

“Woah.” She says, looking up to take in your expression. “What’s wrong?”

She reaches out to you and you climb onto the bed beside her.

You try to smile but it’s stiff and you feel closer to tears than anything.

“I don’t know. Bad weed I think. I feel so weird.”

You couldn’t tell her what was going on with Mr Miller. You barely understood yourself, never mind trying to explain it.

“Come here, chicken.” She says, reaching out and pulling you into her chest. You laughed a little at the nickname you had for each other.

Her sweet scent and warmth lulls you to sleep.

You wake up in the early hours of the morning needing to use the bathroom.

You pad barefoot across the hall and into the main bathroom. As you wash your hands, there is a soft knock at the door. You are still dazed from sleep and you open it.

You are instantly pushed backwards and the door closes again. Mr Miller.

He presses you into the counter immediately. He seems to have been drinking the whole time you have been asleep, his eyes a little glazed over and his movements slightly off balance.

“How you doin’?” He slurs.

“I’m fine, please-” He grinds into you, you are pinned against the counter and both his arms are either side of you, caging you in.

“Please, don’t do this.” You plead.

“What?” He says. “What don’t you want me to do?”

“I don’t know- just, any of this, please. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“I think you did ask for it, baby. Think you’ve been asking for it all night. You came into my house, you bragged about never having been fucked before, and you expect me not to take that as a challenge? Paraded around in my clothes in front of me, with your ass out like a whore? Huh? That’s not asking for it?”

You feel tears forming in your eyes. “Bragging? No, honestly, that was a private conversation. One that you were not supposed to be involved in.”

“This is my house. Nothing that happens under my roof is private from me. Don’t be disrespectful.” He spits.

Your fear and discomfort turns into frustration. “Is this what you do? Force yourself on all of Sarah’s guests? I should go tell her.”

You try to push past him but he grabs both of your wrists and pushes his groin harder against you. You can practically taste the alcohol on his breath because of how close he is to you.

“Maybe I’ll go tell her you tried it on with me. She’ll be heartbroken, doll. You’re a real catch.”

You glare at him. This is fully-fledged blackmail.

“And then what ya’ gonna do?” He continues. “College is a long way off. So is home. It’s the middle of the night.”

You swallow your retort, realising he is right. You are technically stuck here, at least until the morning. You try a different tactic, sighing deeply.

“Listen, Mr. Miller, I’m really sorry for all this. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I, I don't want this. Can we just agree to forget all this, please? For Sarah?”

His eyes flash with something violent.

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“Please Mr-”

“Don’t call me that.” He snaps.

“Why?” You say sweetly.

He grabs your hand and forces it against the hard bulge in his jeans. “Because you’re turning me on.”

You could always yell out to Sarah.

As if reading your mind, he brings a hand to your mouth and presses down, covering it. His other hand works it’s way into your shorts. You squirm and try to kick at him but he’s strong and holds you in place.

“No one’s had you before?” He says. “Really?”

He isn’t looking for an answer, as he doesn’t take his hand away that is gripping your mouth.

“I haven’t fucked a virgin in years.” He says.

Your skin crawls at the thought as he continues to rub the outside of your underwear. You are doing all you can to avert your gaze and avoid his eyes, not wanting to see the sick look of pleasure he is bound to have behind them.

His fingers are rubbing through your folds, it is unpleasant, you aren’t getting wet because you are so uncomfortable. He takes his hand out and spits on it before forcing it back into your underwear, roughly inserting two fingers inside you.

He groans as he pushes them inside of you, you continue to whimper against the hand he has pressed to your mouth. He curls his fingers deep inside you and the stretch is painful.

He flashes you a dangerous look and hisses "Don't make a sound."

He removes the hand covering your mouth and you are intimidated into doing as he says, keeping quiet.

With both hands he tears off your shorts and underwear, and spins you round so your ass faces him and you are looking in the mirror.

You close your eyes, not wanting to see him or yourself as the situation unfolds. You feel him unzipping his jeans behind you and the heavy weight of his erect cock hits your ass. You feel him stroke himself a few times before gripping your thighs and spreading them apart, lifting one of your knees up to the counter and shifting himself to enter inside of you.

"Please don't-" You whimper, your voice weak and quiet.

He hisses at you to be quiet again.

He rubs his cock through your folds a couple of times before bringing it to your entrance. You gasp as he pushes it into you mercilessly, you are tight and unprepared. He stuffs himself inside you all the way to the hilt and tears threaten to spill from your eyes.

He immediately sets an aggressive pace, not a care for your discomfort as you squirm under him. His hands grip you roughly, holding you as still as possible to allow him to have his way with you.

After a while, you get used to the feeling and grow numb to the pain of his huge cock piercing into you. He breathes heavily in your ear and you cringe at the intimate sounds, trying your best to shut out all of the sensations, trying not to feel, not to hear, not to watch as he does this.

“Look at yourself, fuckin’ slut.” He says. He pulls your hair so as to lift your head up, forcing you face to face with yourself in the mirror. “Every girl’s good till she takes the right cock. Then look. Turns you all into filthy fuckin’ whores.”

Your expressions are pornographic. Your brows are pulled together and your eyes are practically glazed over. You look cock drunk and ridiculous. You barely have it in you to be ashamed of yourself, as you are starting to enjoy what he is doing to you.

“You’re gonna think of me every time you take another cock.” He hisses in your ear. “You’re never gonna have anyone again without wishing it was me fucking this tight little cunt.”

You don't respond, your eyes drifting closed. He grips your face roughly. "Keep them open. Watch yourself. You like it."

He shows no mercy with his rough thrusts, but his pace eventually begins to slow. "Gonna fill you with my cum. You want that?"

You look at him in panic and he seems to enjoy that, a twisted grin appearing on his face once again.

"P-Please, no-" You stutter. "Please don't-"

"Shut up and take it." He grunts, his thrusts somehow feeling deeper than ever as he ruts into you.

After a few moments he releases a strangled groan and stills inside you. You feel his hot release leaking into you and you let out a sob. He watches you in glee as he pulls out and your legs shake, struggling to steady yourself against the counter.

He tucks his cock into his jeans and you keep your eyes pressed shut, you can't look at him.

“You’re welcome back any time, honey.” He says.

He exits the bathroom and you are left to deal with your girlfriend’s dad’s cum dripping down your inner thighs.

ThatMrMiller Masterlist

[hwnglx]

how would sunghoon act around his crush?

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

okay, so.. for sunghoon, the definition of a crush might be different to other people. he's a longterm relationship kind of guy, and doesn't seem to like the idea or concept of casual flings. i do think he can find a superficial appreciation for attractive people more easily, than he develops true crushes. (like he'll acknowledge someone's good looks mainly out of courtesy, but wouldn't say he actually likes them, if that makes sense) it does take a very intriguing person for him to have interest in someone.

sunghoon absolutely takes his time. he's very slow-moving. something i've mentioned and noticed in several readings now. he isn't the type to just rush in and hastily approach his target, but moreso observe them from afar, really contemplate and think his actions through carefully before proceeding. i can not lie; it's kinda giving stalker lol. the page of swords often gives off this overly curious spy and stalker energy, especially considering the lack of upfront action present in a lot of the spread. he isn't the type to make his liking obvious on the outside, and it can be pretty unclear at first.

let's say you're in the same club and sunghoon spots you from the other corner of the room.. he finds you extremely alluring and intriguing. the only thing you might be able to notice is his eyes wandering to you at times, but it's unlikely he'd go up to you right away. he would watch you closely to figure you out. sunghoon would watch you talk, laugh.. he would watch where your hands wander, if someone elses hands touch you, who that person might be, (man or woman? friend? too close friend or lover?), how that person looks at you, how close you two get, how you walk, what you like to drink.. you get the drill. there's this desire here, to already know about important and defining things such as your likes and dislikes, before actually going up to you. in that way, he can make sure he appears like his most appealing self in front of you.

once sunghoon would find, or even create the perfect opportunity for you two to connect (like he's the type to personally arrange your meeting for it to be flawless.. like figure out your schedule at college and go to you during a time when you're alone), he'd want to give you this impression of being the perfect guy for you. he'd definitely prefer a more intimate setting for you two to meet or talk for the first time, as it's important for him to focus on you completely. as well as have you see, or care about no one but him in that moment. he'd think of ways to impress you, whether that's by making sure he's looking his best, or just putting himself into this position of him embodying everything you've always looked for, or needed in a person. he'd just find ways to make you believe you two are made for each other, since best believe; if sunghoon approaches you, he sincerely believes you are the one for him. like you'll embody everything he wants in a person, so he'd want to be the same for you. he might test you, see if there even is a likelihood for you to develop the same interest. he seems very clever in that way; he can just tell if someone likes him by figuring out the smaller but important clues. like your reaction to certain questions, or the way you gaze at him. (it's giving “if i like someone, just put the two of us in a room together for 15 minutes, they'll probably walk out more obsessed than me after that” lol)

i have to say though.. the longing to act on his feelings still seems more pronounced than the action itself. meaning, i can see him being very hesitant to actively approach people as of right now. as mentioned before, sunghoon acts and approaches with a lot of intent and thought behind it; he will not pursue someone if he feels like there's no future for you two, and it can't go anywhere. there seems to be this uncertainty within him, where he can dream of circumstances ideally being different, however being very aware of his inability to fully commit to the person he loves at the moment. not only due to his consistently full schedule, him always being away at some distant place, never having enough time or energy on his hands to give his lover what they deserve. but also knowing the distance would make it hard for him to keep a watch on his person, especially if you still haven't established your connection into a fully committed and stable position. “what if i'm away and they do things behind my back?” there's some trust issues he can't seem to help. i'll say it again and again; you'll rarely catch significant scorpio placements being fond of long distance. and he just seems in a position where there's no other way.

funnily enough, this is a crush reading, which moreso is a shallow and beginning-stage sort of liking; however for sunghoon that doesn't truly seem to exist. he's either fully invested in the person he set his eyes on, or completely out.

nevertheless, the spread did end interestingly; with the ace of wands and temperance. sunghoon will expect the other party to be just as invested. if he has a crush on you, but can sense a lack of interest on your side (somehow again, it feels like this is rare for him like i don't think he's ever experienced that before and doesn't believe he ever will lmaooo, he's a confident man for sure), he will not be the type to insist and chase after you. but, if he feels like the genuine interest is reciprocated, that will awaken the spark within him to keep a hold on the connection; it'll keep his passion alive. even if he's away. you just need to make him feel comfortable, like he can trust you and isn't wasting his time and effort. he does expect a lot from his partners too, and isn't the type to endlessly pour into your cup if you don't care to do the same for him.

he only puts in effort if he feels like it's worth it. he will be the type to take some time away from his busy day and reserve it for the person of his interest; but only if he thinks the person is aware of the value behind that. he's immensely self-focused and individualistic in several ways, so whoever manages to have sunghoon shift his focus on them, is not only very special, but also manages to give him this feeling of.. “this is a person worth sacrificing my own precious time for.”

[stargalaxxy]

🧸ྀིCole Brookstone x Reader₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅Hai, so I'm sick so that's something that's going on with me... (¬`‸´¬) But now I'm off from work so maybe this will get me to write more stories ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ) But fr fr I've been thinking about this concept for a while but I was a bit shy in posting it bcs it is a bit suggestive... Ofc if it makes you uncomfortable I have other stories that you can read, I like this enough to keep it ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა You and Cole are in your 20's But I hope you guys like ittt.... Also I gave reader a bit of culture sooooo.... That's alll hope you enjoy!!!

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

⭑.ᐟNow Playing: What You Know Bout Love by, Pop Smoke₊˚⊹♡

Tw. Suggestive, talk of nudity and possible sexy talk ahaha (ó﹏ò｡)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆Living Together (๑>؂•̀๑)

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Cole was the one who asked you to live with him, wanting to take your relationship to the next level.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Having known each other for two years and being in a relationship for a year, you guys were more than ready to live on your own excited to take the next step together in your relationship.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ When you said yes, you both worked on finding an apartment to live in together. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ It was a one-bedroom apartment, and was something you both were excited about when you first saw the home on the market in your guy’s budget.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Saying goodbye to your friends and family, Cole says goodbye to his team having lived with his brothers for so long he couldn’t help but thank them for the memories that they all shared together.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ They gave you both presents for your apartment either small gifts such as Knick knacks, or flowers wishing you two a happy future.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Even with the sad departure the team always visits you two, as if you had never left. They would come in at your times of intimacy too, frustrating the both of you as they would playfully interrupt knowing full and well of what they were doing.

“y’know, it’s kinda like you guys never left~” Kai teases taking a bite of the dinner you made that was originally for you and Cole. 

“Hah, y’don’t say…” Cole huffs sitting with Kai, the rest on the floor watching tv. “Y’know this apartment isn’t really made for more than two people…” you pout as Nya giggles, “Don’t worry (y/n) we’ll be outta here soon just so you can get back to kissing your boyfriend~” You blush as you shove Nya playfully making her laugh. “Yea, and when Nya and I get our own place you guys can bother us whenever.” Jay grins as you smirk at Nya who smiled shyly. “Oh, you don’t have to tell me that, I’m gonna come and bother all of you when you get your own places~” Cole nods as he tilts his bowl up and finishes the soup you made.

…

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Master Wu even gave you both gifts, different assortments of teas, both healing and with different flavors, it was something you both loved as the teas held different purpose of use. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ After getting settled in, you got straight to decorating, trying to find different things to match your guy’s styles.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ You had fun thinking of styles to share for your new home together, when you finished you, both loved the combinations of styles that worked well together.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ When asking Cole, he didn’t have much of a preference, just asking if you could put his records somewhere nice.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Cole loves watching you decorate the house, helping with moving furniture to your liking seeing you put so much love into your home it made Cole so happy.

…

Cole loved it when you took him into furniture stores and obsess over different styles and colors to decorate your home with. Cole enjoyed the domestic lifestyle that he had. Wishing for a lifestyle such as this for the longest time, 

“Aah, this looks so good!” You gush as you both stare at the living room, folded moving boxes in the corner that had been left behind due to both of your procrastinations.

“Yea, I like it.” Cole had a hand around your waist a pleased expression on his face as he looks to the newly decorated room. 

Cole didn’t really have a preference letting you decorate, the only thing he wanted was his records somewhere. He liked how you always asked him what he thought about some stuff even if he didn’t have much of an opinion.

“As long as you’re happy, babe.” He would repeat as you’d shrug going crazy on your creativity to make it something that you both would love. 

You stretch as you pop your back. Moving to a new place is stressful, you both have been busy with jobs and Cole balancing ninja duties. Wanting to relax you would pull Cole by the arm towards the couch. 

Cole would pull you into a song to dance with him whenever he wanted to find ways to relax. But tonight, you both would criticize actors’ stupidity on tv, while Cole devours the dinner you make for him.

Cole stretches his arms, twisting his torso to the direction that he was stretching. You smile at him as you admire his muscles perturbing from his stretch.

You giggle as you kiss the muscle at his shoulder blade, “I’ll get dinner ready, kay?” You walk to the kitchen as you grab a pot and started to boil water.

…

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ On your first night together you both were so nervous, of course you both have slept together before, but now you guys would be sleeping together every night. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Cole was nervous about his snoring, or crushing you, while you were anxious about accidently kicking him in your sleep or taking the covers.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ It took a while for you both to finally fall asleep, you were stiff, and Cole hardly moved. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ On the third night you both were so tired from shopping for groceries and furniture that you passed out on top of each other.

…

You whine on top of Cole your cheek resting against his bare chest, your legs straddled against his thigh as his chest rumbles from his soft snores. It lulled you back to sleep, his arm rests over your waist holding you, Cole’s stomach wakes him up propping an eye open to see the dark room.

You both had fallen asleep as soon as you guys had gotten home from shopping, Cole sniffs as he looks down, feeling a small weight on top of him. Smiling down he catches your sleeping face your quiet snores left your slightly a gaped mouth, his larger hand moves up your back rubbing your shoulder. His fingers graze your upper back tracing shapes, soon you wake up moving slightly you look up to Cole still asleep you rub your eyes trying to wake up.

“Hey babe~” Cole’s voice was horsed, hearing his morning voice brought butterflies to your stomach as your face grew hot. “C-Cole? When did we fall asleep?” you try to get up nervous from thinking you were hurting him. “When we got home, I guess we passed out” Cole explains pushing your body back down to his chest. Your face grows flustered feeling his warm chest against your cheek again, you slowly grow comfortable to place a hand on his bicep smoothly running your hand across his chest as he continues to trace shapes over your shoulder. 

Your time together was quiet and peaceful, hoping for this moment to last forever. The smile on both of your faces told you that there will be more of these quiet moments together, 

Groowwl 

“ehehe~” Cole chuckles nervously as you side eye him playfully grinning, “way to ruin the moment, blockhead~” he scratches the back of his head grinning as you rise from his chest. “Want some pasta?” you smile holding out your hand for Cole to take as his mouth starts to water, “can we have garlic bread?” Cole rises holding your hand as you both walk to the kitchen. “Just as long as you don’t burn it this time~” you tease pushing your finger into Cole’s cheek making him smile, “that was one time…” he trails as you huff at him, “of many, you’re horrible in the kitchen!”

…

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Doing most of the cooking Cole would assist you by cutting, and washing to make side dishes, Cole can’t be left alone in the kitchen as he will find a way to burn it down. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ You both worked to pay for rent and other bills, with Cole still going on missions there are times where you would wait for him to come home. Times of when Cole did come back, he would find you in a different spot of your apartment passed out.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Cole would always tell you not to wait for him as he didn’t want you to lose sleep because of him.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ But you tell him that you can’t sleep without knowing that he’ll come back safe, nodding off you finally fall asleep in his arms as he lays you down on the bed. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ He would shower before coming to bed, Being the element of earth brought a lot of dirt into the house and his body,

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ He would help clean, but you would help bathe him to get the extra dirt off him, being a routinely event of you laying him on the kitchen counter and washing his hair over the sink massaging his scalp chuckling as you hear his quiet snores.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ He loved those days of when you would wash his hair for him, you both knew he could do it himself, but you just wanted the extra moments with him, helping him take a load off his plate as well.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ You would teach him how to braid or brush your hair whenever he asks if he could do your hair. It was sweet how he wanted to return the favor.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Another thing you both would do is have spa days together, creating homemade face masks for you both while Cole ate the cucumbers that were for your eyes. You would give him one of your animal headbands so the mask wouldn’t get in his hair,

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ He gets the bear ears no arguments.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ You both would play video games or listen to music letting the mask work its magic, drinking tea or eating treats that you both baked together.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ You would take care of Cole in other ways as well, whenever Cole got sick you would be there to keep him in bed reporting to either his job or team that he wasn’t feeling well ignoring his protest in being fine.

…

Placing a cold compress on Cole’s forehead he coughs opening his eyes, “you poor thing, I made soup do you wanna eat?” you run your fingers through his shaggy hair as he nods. 

“Even when sick I’ll never say no to your cooking~” Cole’s voice was rasped as he grins. “That would be so much more romantic without all the mucus, honey~” you giggle as Cole pouts at your teasing. 

“Ugh, being sick is the worst” Cole complains as you leave to get a bowl of chicken soup coming back and sitting next to him stirring the soup as you get a nice scoop.

Blowing softly, you bring the spoon to Coles lips, “open wide~” you sing as Cole opens his mouth and bites down on the spoon. 

Removing the spoon, you brought it back to the bowl as you get another scoop waiting for Cole to finish what was in his mouth.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” Cole lifts a brow as you smile, 

“I don’t like seeing you in pain but feeding you does make me happy” you smile as you brought the spoon back to Coles lips. 

“I always love taking care of you Cole, I love you.” You confess as your cheeks grew warm, even with how much you have spent together, you both still blushed whenever displaying loving acts for each other. Cole’s face was also pink as he smiles up at you, 

“Thank you for taking care of me, every day I think back to that day I confessed to you and think how lucky I am to have someone like you.” You shake your head your smile still holding strong, “I’m the lucky one Cole, you brighten up my day, I’m so happy that you asked me to live with you. I can’t express how happy I am.” Tears start to collect as you lean down to kiss Cole’s forehead, Cole smiles as he basks in your affection. He raises his hand to capture your cheek as you lean into his touch, “I love you, (y/n).” you hum smiling. “I love you too Cole.” You whine, holding the back of his warm hand in your cheek. 

…

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ You were both shy in showing your bodies to each other, as you would change in the room given up by Cole and he would change in the bathroom. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ However, as you both got more and more comfortable you guys would forget to put clothes on, with you walking around the apartment to find a towel after showering. Or Cole walking in boxers during a hot day, or on laundry day when you both had on undergarments. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ You have been living with each other for months now, loving every moment you spend together, talking about your future…

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ as well as both your interests in a new addition.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Whenever you both would go out you would notice how Cole would stare at baby clothes in shops, viewing from outside the window. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ You would gush at the many outfits or watch family’s hand in hand, or the chubby cheeks of family’s babies would give you both baby fever.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ However, your flustered faces would convince each other that possibly now was not the time to think about having a baby.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ So instead, you both adopted a pet, you both were looking at shelters or even breeders. 

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ But you both decided on adopting an older cat, wanting to give it a chance at a home and making their life comfortable, but also to start easy as this would be your first fur baby together.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Your cat was calm as expected and would follow you both around rubbing itself against your legs and feet in affectionate greetings. Finding a name for her was difficult as calling her cheese given by the shelter didn’t fit the dark furred cat, so Cole thought of the name ‘Flint’. It was cute and so you guys stuck with the name,

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ You both would baby her as if she were a kitten, she would snuggle herself between you two in bed being another block in intimate moments but you both excused it because she’s cute.

…

You lay on the couch staring at the tv with Cole on top of you lazily, having come back from work he was exhausted and rightfully so. Running your fingers through his hair you smile, Cole’s head laid on your chest as he watches tv along with you.

You noticed how his breathing slowed, chuckling softly as Cole was close to falling asleep on top of you. You do admit it was a bit hard to breath, Cole felt like a big dog crushing its owner because they want to act like a lap dog.

But it felt comforting in a way, like a weighted blanket keeping you grounded, you liked it when Cole would be on top of you especially if you felt anxious or during the cold weather. His strong arms wrapped around your body or hanging off the couch like a sloth, you loved every second that you would take pictures of each other. Having so much that you two could make a collage. 

…

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ Random thought.. but Cole loves taking pictures of you whether secretly or together, he keeps them in a box, or he’ll pin them on the wall.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ You would blush finding his box full of pictures of you, some you don’t remember him taking.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ You did admire them though as you knew Cole took those pictures out of love for you. 

…

The night came and went as the morning sun kissed your face good morning; you hum as you look over to Cole your bodies tangled up.

Cole’s eyes were still closed, he was a heavy sleeper, so it takes a while to wake him up. You slowly move away unwrapping your arms and legs from him, you look back at his sleeping form. His knitted brows and slightly parted lips, you could hear his soft breathing.

Smiling you lift your body up from the bed to look at the nightstand next to Cole.

Cole’s camera sat on the table, with a picture of you and him. Laying on top of him your hand wrapped around his naked chest; your breast thankfully covered as the picture was taken from a side view. Cole’s hair was messy having a sleepy smile as he held a peace sign over your sleeping head. You wondered how the picture got there, as Cole fell asleep before you and you assumed he’s still sleeping.

You then feel yourself being pulled down onto the bed again, he just had to make a liar outta you. 

You look back at Cole his eye propped open as his hand holding your wrist, “where ya goin’ little girl~?” Cole’s morning voice rung like heaven in your ears as your blush.

“Breakfast, I thought you might like some in bed” you suggest as you turn your body to run your fingers through his hair with your free hand. Cole hums as he stares at your other hand in his as he brings it to his lips kissing it softly.

You chuckle as you pull away, “c’mon let’s eat big guy” you pull him up struggling as he decides to use his full weight for you to try and hold up. You laugh as he groans, “don’t be stubborn you big teddy bear, let’s eat we didn’t have dinner so I’m sure you’re hungry.”

“On the contrary~” Cole leans over you as he finally stands up pushing your body against his as you huff blushing. “Real food, you dummy~” you playfully smack his chest as you reach into your shared drawers and pulled out a shirt and shorts. “I’m hungry so c’mon!” You slip on your clothes as you walk out Cole chuckles as he brought out sweatpants and goes to follow you. 

He comes to the kitchen as he watches you work; he leans on the counter as he looks to the time. “Y’know, it’s pretty late for breakfast” he grins as you look to him, “call it brunch then~” you chop your vegetables as you place them in your pot, having already placed other things you needed it was a quick brunch.

Cole sniffs as he hums the ingredients finally coming together to make a delicious smelling aroma. “Mm, what’s that?” He walks over leaning down resting his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s called changua, it’s a Colombian egg soup, it’s really good!” You grab a spoon and stir as you fill it with the soup. You place your hand under it to blow and hold it up to Cole’s lips.

He opens as he leans forward to place the spoon in his mouth. He hums as you bring the spoon back, “you’re right it is good~” he walks to the cabinets to pull out two bowls as he sets them on the counter. 

You fill them up as you turn off the stove walking to the table to sit next to Cole. “My dad would make this all the time for me when I was little, so I learned how to make it.” You take a bite as you sway happily, Cole chuckles as he takes a bite as well. 

“It’s good, thank you” Cole smiles loving how he can still learn new things about you. “‘M’lucky (y/n), to have a girl like you, I can’t express how much I love you and cherish you for deciding to be my partner” Cole looks to your smile,

Cole brings you closer you both practically sharing one seat. He kisses the top of your head as you hold him close as well, “I love you, (y/n), so much. More than words could ever express.” You loved it when Cole would say those words to you, it made you so happy at how your heart would swell with so much love for him. And you knew you would get a thousand more as you both continue to be together.

“I love you too, Cole” you kiss him as you both look to each other, another kiss suggesting until both your stomachs growled in protest. You nervously chuckle as Cole rolls his eyes at his stomach being a mood killer.

You both turn to your bowls as you lift your spoons filling it with soup as you both brought to your mouths.

“Hmm”

“Mm”

You both hum as you look to each other after swallowing, you both smile and laugh at how in common you guys were. You soon settle and take another bite enjoying your quiet brunch.

AAAAA I finished, it feels short but this is what I could think of with fuzzy brain. ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა I hope you like anywayssss (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Love, ⋆˚࿔ Karrots 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[moonschocolate]

Headcanons about my current hyperfixation: THEOO!!☆

I keep stalking the 'theodore nott headcanons' tag so I might as well write my own headcanons about him

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

this man has social anxiety. prove me wrong.

when he was younger he found comfort in reading fiction books, like pjo

he 100% had an obsession with greek mythology, or mythology in general, and it's still kinda there but not like before

then growing up he got into classics

like one day he was like 'what if I read a Dostoevskij book' and that's where it all started

he prefers reading this kind of books because they teach you more

tallest boy you've ever seen, somewhat taller (only by few centimeteres) than Fred and George

he plays the cello, like kind of, he knows how to play a piece only studying it, i believe this man was never able to play a piece at first sight

surprisingly (to him) he really has a lot of things in common with Luna, when he found out he wanted to spend more time with her

he's really silent, but GOD does he ever stop thinking?? his head is loud af

enjoys being with his friends, they're used to him not shouting in their ears (unlike some other boy *cough cough* Mattheo *cough cough ... cough*)and he enjoys their company and they do too

not the type of boy to run to Spotify or whatever music app whenever he can, but he enjoys some kind of music (mostly smooth piano jazz, dramatic classical music since it's my fav, and he thinks TV girl, Lamp, Ichiko Aoba are cool)

never replies quickly, he's always late replying cuz thinks being on his phone is a complete waste of time, but it's not like he's NEVER on it

chill with Halloween but feral over Christmas (does not show it)

legos. I've said all.

YOU CANNOT TELL ME THIS MAN DOESNT HAVE HIS ROOM FULL OF STAR WARS SETS

despite enjoying english and all that kind of subjects, he is feral, and when I say feral I mean feral over maths. He loves learing new concepts because then it all makes sense and it's just so cool (explained from a person who is also feral over maths, pls tell me you get what i mean)

hyperfixations? oh so many

again, greek mythology

you could tell this man "Hey do you know about the myth of Apolloand Daphne" his eyes would light up and he would tell you the myth, his opinion, and related myths ("there's also this other myht with Apollo where he-")

A S T R O L O G Y

still greek mythology related but

he could stay hours talking about constellations

"hey do you know the myth behind the gemini constellation? No? Can I tell you about it?! Okay so-"

paper stars.

if there's a paper stripe around he'd grab it and make a paper star out of it

looks like the typa guy who'd take a lot of pictures with a canon/sony camera

when he feels anxious he'd do this thing where (get ready for the worst explanation ever) he'd put one of his nails of the right hand in between the skin and the nail of his thumb on his left hand and make the nail go left and right, still in between the skin and the nail (I ALWAYS DO THAT I HOPE IT MAKES SENSE I TRIED TO BE AS SPECIFIC AS I COULD)

He tried to go to a party since Blaise, Draco, Enzo, Theo, Pansy (basically everyone you get it)... begged him to come along

we could sum up his experience in one word

NIGHTMARE

The music was too loud, the people were to close to him, everyone was shouting, there were alcohol and drugs (he still wonders how they got literal drugs into the castle), everyone tried to dance with him and talk to him, that time he got overwhelmed tried to leave, but they were all like 'heyyyy nooo dont leaveeeee stay hereeeeee' but his friends understood it wasn't for him and Blaise went with him to his dorm, waited until he felt better then went back to the party

has never been to a party since then

smart af

like he easily surpasses draco and mione

also theo and mione are really close friends, one time they found eachother in the library reading the same book and chatting they found out they have several things in common

has a collection of stylographs, that stays in his library neatly ordinated

best sense of style (he obv got it from Blaise but he made it better)

he loves movies, he's watched movies like Dead Poets Society, Dorian Gray, but also movies about historical facts like The Darkest Hour, The King's Speech, Hidden Figures, The Pianist (I'm a sucker for this kind of movies honestly)

!! HE HAS DIMPLES !!

He loves professor Lupin, he thinks of him as Keating is dps

secretly listens to Micheal Bublè in Christmas, he loves his Christmas songs

he only buys old books, never new ones, he thinks that already used books, from decades ago, he thinks they hold stories, and it's even better when the books have annotations, maybe he'll erase them, but it's good to hear other's opinions

has a lot of vynils

used to study for his dad, now this became a habit, that's why he's the best in class

his relationship with his mom is not strong, MORE

When his mom died he was 5 so he didn't understand

when he finally knew the truth he cried for weeks, then he would occasionally go out to look at the stars, which he always admired with his mom, and cried thinking about her, thinking that she was watching him from up there

when he was like 10 he didn't cry no more, only if he ever opened up

he shared anything with her

he NEVER let ANYONE call him Teddy, he always though that is what his mom called him, and he didn't want other people to 'interfere' with that, he feels like it's their thing

despises horror movies. gets scared to death watching them, and doesnt find the lore interesting

never walks around with only socks on, has the fear of walking on water accidentally and getting his feet wet and the feeling disgustes him

also, has the whole collection of pjo books (every book. from percy jackson and the olympians to the chalice of the gods)

loves cats so much, he has two cats, but he wishes he had more

he has male brown cat named Monet and a grey cat with some beige spots and green eyes (it's mt bsf's cat, I love her - the cat - and I thought she could be a honourable mention) named Vivienne

defo has an obsession with sharks, but is even more obsessed with jellyfish, he knows a lot of scientific names for their species, for exmample Phylloriza Punctata, or Chrisaora Quinquecirrha, or Aurelia Aurelita, he's obsessed

Fav subject isn't potions, it's astronomy instead

since i live for loser!Theo, im in love with the idea of him stuttering in front of a guy/girl he finds cute or attractive, blushing and being awkward

my man absolutely doesn't know how to talk, he speaks too fast, and when ppl tell him to slow down, then he thinks he's talking too slow

if anyone fatshames any of his friends, or is racist/homophobic towards them, or just insults them, he will try to avoid throwing punches, but lets say he'll exchange a word or two with that person

if he's itchy, he scratches so hard there could be blood (a bit exaggerated but you get it)

could've been a Ravenclaw, but if he did his father would be really mad at him, so he's happy he isn't

another headcanon that I kindly stole rn from @heirofs1ytherin is that he's into poetry. LIKE 100% ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ You probably got that I love him HES MY BABY

[freeuselandonorris]

hi! i've been thinking about this for some time; when did you realise that lando and oscar had potential as a pairing? like is there a specific video/moment that got you thinking 'ooh that's a very interesting dynamic/there's something more behind this stare/gesture etc etc' and that eventually led you to write rpf of them (for which i'm very grateful 🙏🏻). i think mine has to be the finish the lyrics video with oscar looking at lando while licking/biting his lips (at 3:56) and i was kinda flabbergasted bc even though i had been following the sport and the extra content for a while and also knew that ppl shipped charles and max and such i wasn't really aware of the possibilities this sport presented. and this video kinda led me down a rabbit hole of searching for fics on ao3 etc... so yeah i was curious to know what was your starting point with landoscar!

also, somewhat related but what's the video/picture of them that feels the most intimate to you? in a 'i shouldn't be seeing this' way. the behind the scenes video of the opening credits for the 2024 season and stuff (at 2:18 ) is the first thing that comes to mind, with their little convo that feels so normal and laid-back and yeah, intimate. + the thing lando does with his fingers while looking oscar dead in the eye got me blushing. maybe it's because of the hushed tone, the fond looks and the smiles they exchange, the small talk etc but hhh idk i love this vid so much. also the fact that oscar is the only one who goes to see his teammate getting ready? anyways. i could also list the countless pictures of oscar looking at lando like he hung all of the stars in the sky but i won't bc this ask is already long enough!

hope you have a lovely day/afternoon/evening depending on the time it is when you're reading this!

helloooo!! ahh this is such a cute q and a nice excuse to go back through my mctwinks tag thank you 🥰

so i’ve been watching F1 and reading fic for it for 47292 years now and i read a bit of dando when they were teammates (and an even smaller bit of carlando but i am very meh about carlos) so i was like. aware of lando as an rpf concept but didn’t really get super into him?

thennn i read a few oscarmark fics around the time he joined mclaren, and a few months after that i also saw the two extremely camp lando moments that are red flag green flag and whatever the hell was going on with that baseball guy. at which point i caught brain rot and demanded that @scenetocause do a roundup of landoscar fics for me.

(this moment literally had me googling 'is lando norris bisexual')

i do think though that the moment that made me really get obsessed with them and want to write as much as possible for them (and definitely the catalyst for starting mondayverse!) was also finish the lyrics! the ‘love story’ bit in particular really had me like. going full galaxy brain about them. it just really sums up their dynamic to me, lando being a bit of a show-off because he's revelling in oscar's attention and oscar happy to give it to him and also kind of shyly being nudged into performing a bit too. wauuuh.

and YESSSS the little smoothie moment!!! god. that was also my first thought for most intimate moment between them both, the way they match each other’s vocal cadences and the whole conversation has that sweet air of a series of in-jokes (“this is what we LIVE for!”) just makes me feel sooo warm and fuzzy about them. it's intimate in the sweetest, softest, most mundane sense of the word. also lando fingerbangs a table and that should not be overlooked.

runner up moment goes to this tiny moment from lando that i love so much, in the season wrap-up video last year where he makes this sweet little heart gesture and his face lights up when oscar compliments him. makes me melt every time.

thanks anon this was v enjoyable to think about even though my answers don’t differ from yours very much! hope you’re having a lovely day too 💕

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #16

Wiggity what's up my fellow book clubbers, today we're taking a look at the ethics of treating artificially made intelligent lifeforms as second class citizens and what the qualifying factors are to determine a being as truly "sentient" and deserving of basic social rights. And by that I mean we're reading PKNA #12: Second Draft which is a comic where nothing bad happens!

This post is LOOONG btw.

okay we're just gonna start off our comic as normal and-

WOAH who's this handsome young devil in his little fancy suit??? What's that? Head of Ducklair Industries?..... yeah sure that makes sense I think.

Everett Ducklair 🤢🤢🤢 get a job stay away from him. Also this is a really nice way of saying you had to stop him from being overtaken by insane homicidal tendencies and putting guns in all his inventions btw

Haha woah what was that. Did the fabric of reality just tear for a second there or did my ADHD meds just kick in. Probably just me.

MASTER Donald???..... I don't even think I can write out the jokes I wanna make here they're too inappropriate for this blog sorry. But also what the fuck.

Uno stop mothering maybe I WANT to get frostbite and lose all my fingers

Not to take a sudden side tangent here but is this supposed to be like, a good thing? Don't the other seasons exist for a reason? I always thought fall and winter were meant to be like a cleansing period, they bring balance to the two other hotter seasons. If it's eternally spring, do some plants just never die? Are animals ALWAYS in the breeding season? Today we're going to overanalyze this one concept in an essay where-

OH MY GOD IT'S ODIN wait nevermind hiii Odin hiiiii. what's lookin good cookin. I mean- shit. fuck. shit.

I'm kind of obsessed with the way Odin is drawn in this comic. His whole body is all wiggly like a bendy straw. His stances go crazy.

gayass

Guys ever since I made that post about Odin's outfits and noticed that he's barefoot here it's been haunting me. Like it might just be a coloring error in this panel but also... why'd he take his shoes off. Also sorry for immediately revealing that it's Odin but um uhh I totally don't know who the OTHER cloaked figure is.

girlll you're giving away the game SHUT YOUR MOUTH

TWO Lylas?!?!?!

I'm loving Donald's shock lmao bro is fucking flabberghasted

This picture is so fucking silly bro. Nooo you can't put Odin in jail, he has such a nice suit on :(

Donald getting offended on Uno's behalf, not knowing that Uno is literally sitting right behind him. SURELY he'll figure it out eventually right.

Omg guys it's Geena!!! Remember Geena? From Portrait of the Young Hero? Anyways she has a gun now

Way to go Donald, you showed her basic empathy for like 2 panels and it gave her an actual sense of self value and NOW she thinks she deserves rights 🙄 she's gonna Detroit Become Human up in this bitch

beaming you with my evil lasers. what if he just fucking fried her brains here I think it would've been funny

Oh that's. probably bad.

ohhhh noooo.....

OOOOHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ok so bad news, Geena fucking exploded and her droid rebellion is presumably over. The GOOD news though is that droids are destined to get their rights anyways, just in a less violent manor than in the timeline Geena had started. So... I guess that's a win?

Disappears in a cloud of beautiful sunset smoke... Goodbye Odin 👋

Donald. Please. DONALD.

Okay so there's a LOT to say about this comic (so much that I kept hitting the image limit and having to make edits to my post to make it more concise) but if I could summarize it into one word: damn. Like I'm just kinda sad now.

The whole concept of "do robots deserve to be treated like human beings" is a common argument to explore, we've seen it in all kinds of media before. The ethics that get touched on in this comic are nothing new, but I can't help but find this comic incredibly interesting to read in the year 2024. Maybe in 1997 the idea of robots integrating into our society seemed like a far-off concept, but in present day the ever-growing integration of AI technology really makes this chapter feel a little more close to home.

I mean, it's easy to be like "yeah, well of course the droids deserve to be treated like people." I mean, Lyla and Odin are droids, and we like Lyla and Odin! Odin is literally so lifelike that people don't even KNOW he's a droid. But I can't help but think about how this all ties back to the current ongoing debates surrounding the usage of AI, and specifically AI-made content. Obviously the AI we currently have is nowhere near the level of the characters in this series (chatGPT fucking WISHES it was Uno) but there's really interesting debates to be made here.

What qualifying factors determine whether or not a living being is deserving of the same rights we humans give to ourselves? Is it being biological? I mean, there are literally millions of types of animals on our planet, but we don't even treat them with the same level of respect we give to ourselves. So, is it intelligence? If we were to create a computer with the intelligence level of a living, breathing human person, would they be entitled to basic "human" rights? HELL IF I KNOW.

I love the way this comic handles exploring this topic. Geena isn't WRONG for wanting more, she's wrong in the way she went about it. Going as far as to literally alter the course of spacetime only further complicated things, for her AND for the other droids. Had Geena instead devoted her energy into droid advocacy in the modern day, things may have gone differently. This story isn't the end of droids getting rights, but it is unfortunately the end of Geena.

We ended on a happy note, but overall this story is a pretty melancholic one. Especially that whole "only machines can be rebuilt" like DAMN.

Anyways that's enough media analysis for today, time to take off my smart thinking hat and go back to being generally kinda stupid. I'm not gonna add anything about Angus Tales here at the end because I already hit the image limit lol. Umm shoutout to Angus Fangus for having like 110 parking tickets. Idiot.

[rainbowlapisart]

Now that time has passed I wanna share my thoughts on Deadpool and Wolverine as a film, though I will preface by saying it isn't very positive... also, I admit I was high in the theaters watching this, so please treat this post like what it is: just an opinion.

The opening dance sequence was of course amazing, though there was some noticeable CGI. And I think the concept alone of Deadpool literally digging up Logan's grave is a hilarious way to start the movie.

Unfortunately Deadpool feels lamer and more like an asshole in this one. Especially after his character development in the last film I just can't see him desperately wanting to join the Avengers of all teams. Nando v Movies mentioned this but what the hell even is the Avengers now? And why is Happy in charge of who gets let in? And why wouldn't they let Wade in? Yeah he's gross and crass but he has special forces training and is nigh-unkillable. Y'all let Hawkeye in but not Deadpool?

The setup is interesting though I can't fully get behind the idea of anchor beings-- and the further idea that their death leads to "associated" universes collapsing as well as theirs? I don't know, it comes off as "yeah we have all these other characters you care about but Wolverine is the important one so they'd die without him", which is kind of an insult to those characters and that universe.

I admit, I was never big on Wolverine as a character, I always thought he was cool as hell but the only movie of his I've seen was Logan, which was awesome. So I admit that it may just be a case of the movie wasn't meant for me, but still I am a Deadpool fan so of course I'm gonna see this anyways. Super glad we got a good suit for him but I wish we didn't have to wait until the very end for him to put the cowl on.

The Johnny Storm/Captain America tease and bit was really funny I will say. Personally I was too stoned to get the joke at first, I honest to god thought he was just Chris Evans, but now that I've sobered up the misdirect is really funny.

Deadpool is directly responsible for getting Johnny Storm killed. I know Deadpool is a murderer and maybe I shouldn't give a shit about this, but it just feels like an unlikable thing for him to do. Like... that's a guy. That's a hero. It's not like he was being an ass to Wade or anything, he was an ally to the two and got killed for no good reason.

There was barely any screentime for the side characters that were some of the best parts of the first films. After Deadpool 2 I was really excited to see the X-Force working together in the next movie. The dynamic between Wade, Cable, and Domino are really fun and I think this Wolverine would've fit right in. It feels like a missed opportunity to not have the X-Force be the team to help fight Cassandra.

Speaking of, how about those cameos? I never watched Elektra or Blade so these kind of meant nothing for me. I watched this with my dad and he got pretty excited. Laura doesn't really do anything that memorable other than talk to Logan, and of course Channing Tatum's Gambit is the best character in all of cinema. Completely and utterly obsessed with him and I need a trilogy about him immediately.

I didn't love Wolverine's whole "letting his universe down" thing. It gets hyped up so much then when we learn what happened it was a bit underwhelming. I just can't see a universe where the X-Men are taken down by a mob of humans.

I laughed my ass off lots of times. "The Proposal. :)", "Suck it Fox, I'm going to Disneyland", "There's only ever gonna be one Blade", "He has risen, babygirl!", and pretty much everything out of Nicepool.

In general it kinda feels like it's regressing what was so good about Deadpool 1 and 2. It also feels like it's more for fans of the Fox Marvel movies than Deadpool fans. I hope that since this movie is "Deadpool and Wolverine" that means we can get a more proper Deadpool 3 in the future that brings back those who I missed dearly.

[spadesncrows]

ok so abt that au i was talking abt before,,, 🥺👉👈

To start off, this is something I’ve had in the back of my mind for quite a bit that I haven’t been able to fully express and show due to reasons I’ll mention later. This project has lowkey given me some brainrot so I hope my words don’t just sound like I’m going clinically insane LMAOO i swear I’m so definitely normal abt my aus guys (denial)

Dead Casino is a twst au I’ve had for a while but has been on the backburner for being very unfinished. However, since it’s a little (keyword: little) bit more fleshed out, I think I can at least give a general summary on the concept !! :D

First off, the concept behind it was a direct inspiration from mlp infection aus I’ve seen on insta. Since mlp was a large chunk of my childhood and certain variants of horror had become an interest of mine as of late, I liked the idea of mixing them together. But—of course—when I enjoy something just enough, it eventually becomes a feeling of “how can I forcefully throw it in with my current obsession into the mind equivalent of a blender” and Dead Casino was the smoothie that came out of it. Essentially, the resulting foundation is that NRC experiences a zombie apocalypse, but as with most things I obsess over, I wanted to build on that.

To get into the nitty gritty of it first, there’s a few core things abt the infection that basically effect not only what the characters face, but the story itself:

The infection is primarily based off of blot, and the concept of it using something/someone as a vessel to control and harm others

While blot zombies are the most common creature plaguing the school, blot has the capability to take over different objects as well when under specific circumstances, which leads to the creation of (mostly) nonhuman blot infested monsters

Over-accumulation of blot can lead to an increased vulnerability to the infection. This especially targets those that have overblotted prior to the outbreak, even if they had seemingly “fully recovered” :)

As for the story, I don’t wanna get super into it just bc yknow spoilers, but the general overview is relatively simple(ish). Basically, it folllows Ace and the rest of his group of survivors (mostly Cater, Trey and Jade) after the initial outbreak on campus. I wanna say anywhere from a month to a month and a half?? Basically enough time to be at least a little more accustomed to everything going on if that makes sense !!

Ace and co. take refuge in classrooms near the cafeteria, but just like everyone else, is not allowed to leave the safezone unless permitted. Surprise surprise, he leaves the safezone not permitted. In fact he does this multiple times through the first couple chapters alone. And the whole story.

But essentially, Ace manages to figure out two things the first time he leaves the safezone in the prologue:

That there are living survivors in Heartslabyul trapped there under the rule of their infected housewarden, which—by extension—likely means the situation may be the same in other dorms

That both Deuce Spade and Grim—who he hadn’t seen since the outbreak and assumed were dead—were actually alive and MIA.

And that basically kickstarts the rest of the story !! The main group infiltrates different dorms in the hopes of reconnecting with any survivors, all while trying to solve the mystery of their old friends’ whereabouts :)

Now the reason why a good chunk of this au was pretty much kept under wraps was for one main reason specifically: I had zero clue how to present it.

My initial thought was “oh!! Fanfic :3” and then it scrambled into “…comic? Animation? No?? Both?? Neither??”

…and then it kinda just sat there. I had the story, I had the idea, I had the biggest brainrot, but no way to properly explain or show it. And then I got the thought that plagues me every single time—at least once—I join a fandom: make it a video game.

At first, i wasn’t going to. But then it clicked into place just a bit too well and the ideas kept coming together and it wouldn’t stop and now we’re here :3

More specifically, Dead Casino is gonna be portrayed as a desktop game ^^ (i took like two game dev classes, sue me /j)

here’s some ideas for different mechanics I thought of including !! They’re all on my spam blog, but I have a third blog in the works rn where I’ll have all the info organized eventually :3

[1], [2], [3]

And here’s some irl doodles I’ve made for this!! These are beta designs and the like for different characters and stuff !! (Tw for body horror, knifes and guns, lmk if I need to add any more warnings ^^)