#on the other there's the horror to the dangers of it when looking back

[cherrycheolkat]

• random slutty thoughts, feat. mingyu •

the valentine’s day / co-worker crush one

mingyu has sat in the cubicle next to yours long enough to know exactly how shitty your ex made valentine’s day last year, plus he knows you definitely haven’t even thought about a valentine’s date since you just accepted a stack of last minute work, because to quote you, “fuck this pretend holiday”

but he really hopes to change your mind

mingyu’s had a crush on you since you started working in his group, maybe before that even when he would just see you in the break room sometimes

at first he thought you were a bit unapproachable, but the longer he sat next to you, the more he realized you were a really good co-worker and friend - you always have great ideas for projects and you don’t make him feel like shit for not knowing every single thing like most people in the group, plus you’re always happy to grab coffee when he wants to complain about how something personal

he was glad when you had offered to exchange phone numbers so he could message you “just whenever” - it took him a week to finally decide what to send - a photo proving that he really uses the name ‘james’ as his ‘coffee order name’ because he was tired of the misspellings and you would not believe him - you had practically cackled at ‘james’

he was surprised when you asked if he had a date that night, “no, i haven’t really been talking to anyone” besides you, he thought

“at least you won’t be stuck here all night, though,” you smiled, leaning towards your computer to read something

he nodded, “yeah, true,” even as he spoke, he started to poke around seeing if there were any assignments he needed to complete (he knew there weren’t)

“wait, actually, sorry - there’s this part i kind of need help with,” you mumbled from your slouched over position

he blushed and scooched his chair over to your side of the barrier, you had already moved so he could see your screen - he was glad that you seemed to always have problems with excel functions

he started tinkering with the spreadsheet while you read some documents next to him - before he realized it, he was ready for dinner

he leaned back, “want to take a break?” it was a totally normal question

you nodded, “yes, please, I’m so tired of looking at this,” you whispered and then stood up to look around the office, “wow, it’s like a horror movie in here - absolutely everyone is gone but us”

he smiled knowing you mean zombie movies, which you proclaim to hate but still seem to know a lot about

“so what were you thinking?” you asked as you sit back down next to him - he notices when your knee bumps his leg

“hm, how bad do you think the waits are across the street?”

“oh fuck, i forgot, couples out in droves, right?”

he nods, watching you scrunch your face as you start checking for reservations close by - it takes a few minutes but you’re suddenly grabbing his sleeve, “oh my god, if we leave right now, we can just make it to a decent place,” you practically drag him along

the ‘decent’ place is actually really nice, way more than he was expecting, but he was glad for once that he was in dress clothes - he actually looked like he was your date

they seated you in one of the open booths, another couple were right next to you - he had started to look at the menu when you nudged him with your foot, he glanced up to see you covertly glance at the other couple - mingyu almost laughed when he saw the girl’s foot was practically buried in the guy’s crotch and moving at a concerning pace

he blushed slightly at the scene and glanced back to you, seeing the dangerous smirk on your face, he suddenly felt the toe of your shoe press gently to his calf - he was quick to slip a warning hand onto your thigh, squeezing gently

“i think we can do better darling,” he whispered

you looked too game, “oh, can we, sweetheart?”

he wasn’t sure what to make of your sugary voice, but he knew you were horribly competitive (both of you, if he were honest, could be a bit scary at company retreats)

he didn’t hesitate to nod, “of course we can,” he answered in a low tone, his thumb tracing circles against your thigh

when the waiter came back, you both ordered drinks, but he noticed quickly when the other couple conspicuously got up at the same time and wandered towards the bathroom

he sipped his wine, “did they really just go to the bathroom?”

you giggle, “they definitely did”

he swirled his glass gently, “okay, so if we go into the men’s room after them, do we just need to be louder?” he was genuinely asking

you laughed behind your hand, “seriously?” you grinned, “it’s not like we get a peleton this time,” you shoot back, voice soft in a way that makes his stomach flutter

“yeah, but,” he wasn’t sure where he was going with this, “they were annoying, why not be, you know,” he shrugged

“be more annoying, my darling, dearest,” you smiled and covered his hand with yours

he flushed but had a sudden thought, “look if we freak them out, i will literally pay for a full weekend at that glamping place you keep ogling,” he was very serious

“oh, okay, no wait, it has to be the one with the hot tub that overlooks the trees,” you were getting serious

he nodded, “i’ll give you my card, book whatever you want,” he was too sincere

he noticed the slight blush blooming across your cheeks, “you know it’s like a couples thing, right?”

“so, you can book for two and go alone, whatever,” in his mind this was completely reasonable to offer a co-worker who he clearly had just a crush on, especially when he hadn’t confessed

he watched you bite your lip lightly, “okay, but shouldn’t we both go? it’s like a group activity,” he flushed, knowing you’re looking at him much too clearly

“just come on or we’ll miss our chance,” he stood, glancing around and walking towards the bathroom

he pushed the door open and was immediately assaulted with sounds, really wet sounds

he caught you as you walked through the door, knowing you would laugh at the sounds, he pressed his hand across your lips and guided you to the stall next to the occupied one, locking the door

you glance at the stall wall, rolling your eyes at the sudden feminine cry of “oh, baby - yeah, just like that”

you lean close to him, “make it good, okay,” you whisper, your hands suddenly ghosting down his chest and stomach

he’s shocked when you ran your hands down the front of his trousers, “fuck, daddy, show me how hard you are,” you say in a breathy voice as your hands press roughly to his hips

he bit his lip hard to avoid laughing in total shock, “that what you want baby girl, my hard cock filling that tight pussy?” he asked, his voice lower than he expected, even though he was leaning down close, whispering against your throat, obviously in character

“mhmm, yes, i want you so badly - i’ve thought about it all day, daddy - i’ve just been sitting, waiting for you, all wet and ready for your cock”

he paused hearing this, his mouth immediately dry, he could feel your hand working him through his pants

he kissed your throat gently, “daddy’s good little girl, just waiting at her desk, hoping to get fucked,” he nipped your earlobe gently, “my naughty little girl,” he whispered as he bit your throat

he was momentarily stunned when you pulled your shirt down enough to expose your tits and your perfect nipples, but he didn’t even think before he dipped down, latching onto one and then the other, hearing your moans, as he licked and sucked “yes, daddy” - “yeah, just like that” - “fuck, i bet you could empty me”

he leaned up, catching your mouth in a soft kiss, he licked into you, tasting you as he pushed up your skirt, his cock was way too hard at the idea of your full tits

he slid his fingers under the hem of your panties, immediately feeling the slick waiting for him, “oh, baby, so wet for me,” he barely broke the kiss to murmur

he watched your face as he plunged his first two fingers inside your hot, wet pussy - you gasped softly, pulling his hair roughly as you did, “yes, daddy, play with me, you’ve kept me waiting so long,” you whimper as he crooked his fingers to hit the soft spongy spot he knew your ex had never been able to find

he had completely forgotten the other couple - all he cared about was the way you were writhing in pleasure in front of him - that and the way your cunt was clenching around him, it was so fucking tight and already dripping

he pressed close, “come for me baby girl, i can feel you holding back, just let go, make a mess for daddy to clean up,” he whispered

you pressed close, “give me one more finger first,” you breathed heavily against his skin

he was happy to slip his third finger in, stretching you and then scissoring you open too, pressing against your tight walls

you moaned loudly, “oh, fuck, yes - daddy, don’t stop, make me feel good”

he wasn’t worried about how loud you were - it was part of the point, but when your pussy suddenly gushed, “fuck,” he breathed, feeling your juices wet his thigh

he held you close as he he still worked his fingers inside your pussy, you yelped as a second orgasm tore through you, a new splash of hot pussy juices running down his thigh as you shivered with pleasure in his arms, grasping blindly for him, needing him to hold you as your orgasm worked through you

“mhmm, daddy, oh, fuck, did i do good?”

he was quick, “yeah, baby, you’re so perfect, so messy and wet for me,” he pressed soft kisses to your cheek, nuzzling close to you

it was obvious that you were more fucked out than either of you expected - he definitely didn’t hear anything from the couple in the other stall, but he wasn’t especially concerned either

he suddenly turned you around, pulling your back to his chest, as he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, “still want daddy’s cock, baby girl?”

you nod, “yes, please, use me like a toy, make me yours”

he breathed slowly, lining his cock up with your cunt, he needed to control himself or he would come too fast

he plunged in, pausing to breathe, to feel your slick cunt stretching so wide to take all of him - he listened to your whimpers and soft pleas as you adjusted to being full

but he waited to move - and when he did, he was slow at first, feeling every bit of you squeezing him, wanting him

and when you leaned back, “fuck me daddy, fuck me like you want”

the way you gazed up at him told him everything - that you knew - you already knew exactly how he felt

and so he plunged in, setting a quick pace, not being afraid to snap his hips - he wanted to fuck you raw

and when he felt you clenching and fluttering around him, he pulled you close, holding you tight, and reaching down to work your clit, he gasped at the feeling of your third orgasm, the feeling of your slick against the head of his cock was too much

he came, he clenched his teeth together tightly, moaning low against your skin, his cum filling you, he kept moving, slowly fucking his cum deeper into you

“keep it inside baby,” he demanded, breathless, finally letting you go

you nod with a little smile, “what do i get if i do?”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, and fixed his pants

he helped you fix your clothes, glancing to see how massive your pupils were

he stopped and nuzzled close, feeling nothing but tenderness for you, “want to leave?”

you nodded, holding tight to his lapels, “can we still fuck though?”

he smiled, “mmmh, of course we can baby - we can fuck all you want,” he kissed you softly - he meant every word

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨

a/n: happy v day - if you’re not getting fucked tonight, just think of mingyu ^^ we all know he would do it right …every time

♡ kat

tags: @syluslittlecrows

if you want to be tagged, go [here] my [master list] if you want to read more

[sycamorelibrary754]

Hearts on the Run

Summary: You and Natasha are on the run in Norway, unaware that Valentine’s Day is upon you. Natasha goes out of her way to make it special.

Word Count: 942

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

A/N: A day late, but I wanted to write a little something for Natasha. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Holiday Series: Home is Anywhere You Are Masterlist

You sat on the worn couch in the small, nondescript safe house, flipping through a battered copy of a magazine. The words blurred together on the page as your mind wandered back to the events that had led you here.

It had been months since the airport battle in Leipzig. Months since Steve had gone rogue, you'd found yourself at odds with the organization you'd sworn to protect.

You had both made difficult decisions and were now paying the price. You chose to stand by Steve, convinced that the Sokovia Accords posed a grave danger to the Avengers' freedom. Natasha, on the other hand, aligned with Tony. Having witnessed the chaos of unchecked power firsthand—the horrors of the Red Room and the sinister machinations of HYDRA—she couldn't bear the thought of history repeating itself.

Yet, when the moment arrived, her loyalty to Steve prevailed, and she aided him and Bucky in their escape. After being captured by Ross and making a break for freedom, Natasha arrived in the serene yet rugged wilderness of Norway, where fate had a surprise in store for her—she found you, a beacon of hope amid the chaos she had fled. Both of you on the run and united by a shared sense of purpose.

Nat walked into the room, her eyes scanning the space before coming to rest on you. "Hey," she said, her voice low and smooth. "Find anything interesting?"

You shook your head, setting the magazine aside. "Just the usual. Politics, scandals...nothing that will help us get out of this mess.”

Natasha nodded sympathetically. "I know. It feels like we're stuck in limbo, doesn't it?"

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "I just wish we could go back to how things were before. You know, when our biggest worry was some alien invasion or Hydra scientist."

Natasha smiled wryly. "I miss those days too. But we can't change the past. We have to focus on the present."

You looked up at her, feeling a surge of gratitude. Natasha had been a rock for you throughout this ordeal, using her vast resources and network of contacts to keep you one step ahead of the authorities.

You felt a flutter in your chest as you gazed into her eyes. It was a feeling you'd grown accustomed to over the past few months, but one that still caught you off guard.

Natasha seemed to sense your gaze, and her expression softened. "Hey," she said, walking over to sit beside you on the couch. "It's Valentine's Day."

You raised an eyebrow. "I hadn't noticed."

Natasha smiled. "I figured as much. But I thought we could...celebrate, anyway."

You felt a spark of curiosity. "Celebrate?"

Natasha nodded. "Yeah. I mean, we're stuck in this safe house, but that doesn't mean we can't make the most of it. I was thinking we could...have a nice dinner, watch a movie...something like that."

You smiled, feeling a sense of excitement. "That sounds amazing."

Natasha grinned, standing up. "Great. I'll go start dinner."

As she walked into the kitchen, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder. Despite everything that had happened, despite being on the run and in hiding, Natasha had still managed to make this Valentine's Day special.

You got up and walked over to the window, looking out at the drab, suburban landscape. It wasn't the most romantic setting, but with Natasha by your side, you felt like you could face anything.

As you stood there, lost in thought, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Natasha standing behind you with a small smile.

"Hey," she said, her voice low and husky. "Dinner's ready."

You smiled, feeling a sense of anticipation. "Great. I'm starving."

Natasha chuckled, leading you to the small table in the corner of the room. The spread before you was impressive - steak, roasted vegetables, and even a small chocolate cake for dessert.

You sat down, feeling grateful. "Natasha, this is amazing. You didn't have to go to so much trouble."

Natasha smiled, sitting down across from you. "I wanted to. Not every day we get to celebrate Valentine's Day in style."

You laughed, picking up your fork. "I guess not."

As you ate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy. Despite everything that had happened, despite being on the run and in hiding, you felt like you'd found a sense of peace with Natasha.

After dinner, you sat down on the couch, watching as Natasha put in a DVD. The movie was an old romantic comedy you'd seen before but never grew tired of.

As you watched, you felt Natasha's hand brush against yours. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent a spark of electricity through your body.

You looked over at her, seeing the faintest glimmer of a smile on her face. You smiled back, feeling a sense of connection.

As the movie ended, Natasha got up and walked to the window. You followed her, standing beside her as you looked at the night sky.

"It's beautiful," Natasha said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, feeling a sense of agreement. "It is."

You looked up, meeting Natasha's eyes. For moment, you just stared at each other, the tension between you palpable.

Then Natasha smiled a slow, sultry smile. "Happy Valentine's Day," she said, her voice low and husky.

You smiled back, feeling your heart skip a beat. "Happy Valentine's Day," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you stood there, the air thick with tension, you knew that this Valentine's Day, on the run and in hiding, would be one you'd never forget.

[cherryeclipses]

i love you, i'm sorry ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

dean winchester x reader

angst, childhood lovers to enemies (potentially to lovers again), i love writing angsty dean I'm sorry. warning - I hardly edit any of my writing sorry

word count: 2.1K

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

cause that's just the way life goes ...

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

You were 16 when you met Dean Winchester, he and his brother Sam were new to your school. The moment you met you instantly had a crush on the boy, he was charming, funny, dangerous, and downright sexy. The only problem was every other girl in your grade felt the same thing, hell even some of the guys did. Dean had the kind of energy when he walked into a room all eyes were on him. It wasn't until a few months later when you would finally speak to him, it turns out his dad and yours were friends; hunting friends. Okay maybe friends is too much, more like acquaintances, they would help each other if they were hunting the same thing. John and your father had decided now that John was to be in your hometown for at least the next few months that the three of you kids could keep each other company.

The first time the three of you met officially it was a horrible stormy night. Something straight out of a horror movie, the rain was pelting against the windows, making them rattle, and thunder clapped so loud in the distance it sounded as though the apocalypse was beginning. John came over to your house with Sam and Dean to sit down with your father and go over the lore of whatever monster they were hunting now. "Darlin' you remember John Winchester?" Your dad said lazily, gesturing to the elder Winchester. You just nodded politely. "Well these are his sons, Dean and little Sam. " He continued. "I know, I've met them already." Both fathers looked at you confused for a moment. "I mean, they started at school last month. I think I have a couple classes with Dean." You shrugged, trying to play it off. You caught Dean's expression from the corner of your eye, he was smirking at you, one eyebrow raised in interest.

As the two men retreated to spend the night in the study you were left standing in the kitchen with Sam and Dean, awkwardly. "I'll show you both to the living room, we can order a pizza or something?" You turned on your heels and the boys followed you into the next room. You sat on one end of the couch, Sam on the other and Dean sat in the armchair across from you. Sam started flicking absentmindedly through the tv channels, trying to drown out the uncomfortable silence. "It must be nice to have a real home and don't have to move schools all the time." Sam spoke up. "Uh yeah, I guess it's alright. I mean it'd be even better if dad wasn't a hunter at all." You gave the young boy a sympathetic smile. You looked up to see Dean still staring at you, you couldn't tell if he was eyeing you off or judging you; but either way it looked like he was about to eat you. You felt your face heat up, your crush sitting meters across from you, in your house. It was unreal.

The rest of the night dragged on, you watched a few movies and ordered pizza, none of you talking very much. Eventually Sam fell asleep so you got up off the couch to cover him with a blanket. As you passed Dean to pick up the blanket he finally spoke up. "So what classes do we have together?" He asked innocently. "What?" You asked startled. "When your dad was introducing us you said we have a few classes together. A beautiful girl like you, I'd remember. So I'm curious." You were stunned, there's no way he just said that. "Um I think English and history maybe." You answered, sitting back down besides the sleeping boy. "No wonder I haven't seen you." He laughed. "There's no way anyone could make me sit in the most boring classes of the day." You rolled your eyes, yeah sure they were tedious but you actually wanted to graduate. "So what do you do with all your spare time then? Surely not studying?" Now it was Dean's turn to blush, you had heard a few notorious stories about Dean and a certain janitor's closet. He just shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Ever since that night Dean started showing up to his English and history classes, and not only showing up but coming in early to make sure he had the seat beside you. During breaks he would find you out by the football field and join you for lunch. You had so much in common, not just your unstable life as a hunter's kid but same taste in music and cars. It felt like you finally met your soulmate.

Eight months later it was time for the Winchester's to move on. The longest they had stayed anywhere (thanks to Dean) but John wouldn't be delayed any longer, he had a lead two states away and was determined to follow it. The night before he left, Dean snuck in through your window to say goodbye. Gifting you a dainty necklace adorned with your birthstone - you didn't even realise Dean knew what a birthstone was! "What's this for Dean? So my heart can break everytime I put it on?" You ask, looking up at the boy with tears in your eyes. He takes your left hand, running his thumb over your knuckles comfortingly. "No, this isn't goodbye forever, just for now. Just until dad ganks this son of a bitch and then I can come and see you again. I promise. Just wanted to get something for my favourite girl." He leant down to place a kiss on the top of your head. Wrapping your arms around him you pulled him in for the tightest hug you could muster. "I don't believe you, but I still love you." You chuckle against his chest. You feel his heart skip a beat, pausing before he replies "I love you too."

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

It didn't take long after graduating high school for you to fall into the hunter's life. After spending your senior year fighting with your dad about the future, you did exactly what he expected and gave in. He had taught you how to hunt from the age you could hold a shotgun.

It was the reason your mum left.

Although you were fulfilling your destiny of becoming a hunter, you refused to hunt with him. After a particularly explosive fight you called your boyfriend. Dean knew about your daily arguments but he also could feel that this one was different. This fight was bad enough, pushed you far enough to call him crying and begging to meet him wherever he was. Dean was currently hunting a vampire nest with John only a six hour drive from you. The minute your phone lit up with an address you jumped in your car and sped off. Not looking back for a second.

"She's on her way." Dean announced to John, shoving his phone back into his pocket. John sighed in response "she'll get her anger out on this hunt then she'll drive right back home. Don't expect her to stay with us. Even if she wants to, the answer's no." He said solemnly. "I don't think so, this is different. She hates this life, so it'd have to be really bad." John nodded not looking up from his paper. He tolerated yours and Dean's relationship. He had nothing against you personally, he just didn't believe you could be in a relationship and live their life. He would put up with you for as long as it took you to realise that and run off to find someone stable.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

That was almost four years ago. Since then you had joined the Winchester family on most of their hunts, surprising John with not only how well you could research and retain lore information but also how quick you were in a fight.

You had begun to grow close to Sam, he was like your best friend and the little brother you never had. When you were left alone to research he would often confide in you his feelings and dreams for the future.

One evening Dean returned to the motel alone, John abandoned him for a dive bar down the road, to you and Sam asleep on the couch. Your head resting atop his, your hoodie covering the younger boy from the chill in the air. Dean adored how you loved Sammy, how you both got along and you took care of him. He kissed your cheek and noticed how cold you were. Removing his eather jacket and gently placing it around your shoulders before settling into bed for the night. He didn't dare wake the two of you.

Over the years, you had the privilege of watching Sam grow into a young man and live out his dream of leaving the hunting life for college. The weekend before he left he made sure to visit you to say goodbye. Hugging you goodbye and making sure you had his new number but not before making you promise you wouldn't give it to Dean or John. "Cross my heart. I'll take this phone number to my grave along with every embarrassing crush you've told me about." You giggled, making an x across your heart. "Okay, okay, thank you. I just want to start over and I can't if they're trying to track me down." He smiled sadly. You looked up at Sam (he had now grown 10 feet tall and towered over you) "I get it but I can't promise they won't try to track you down anyways." You shrugged before giving the boy one final hug goodbye. "Good luck little Sammy." You joked as he left for good.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Ever since Sam left things had become tense among the Winchesters. Well, more tense than they already were. John was more irritable, it seemed like he would take his sadness and frustration out on you, yelling at the smallest mistakes or refusing to give you details on their next hunt. Dean was torn, it was wearing him down, trying to deal with his brother leaving and his father and girlfriend fighting. You had had enough and had thoughts about leaving for awhile, just taking a few solo hunts away from John until things cooled down - you really wished you could steal Dean away as well but that would make things so much worse.

"-absolutely not! You go out there and do what needs to be done Dean. This has been going on for far too long and you know it." You heard John shout from inside his and Dean's motel room. "You don't know what you're talking about, she's the best damn hunter we've ever worked with." Dean responded, sounding just as furious. You hesitated going inside. You were going to tell Dean about your plan to give John some space but now, now they were fighting about you. You took a step back, you couldn't just leave without saying goodbye, so you waited. Anxiously twisting the birthstone around your neck your back against the wall, you waited for the screaming match to be over.

"She's bad news, always has been. Just like her damn father Dean. You can't keep dragging her around, it ain't fair." "I love her. " Dean growled. "You wouldn't know love if it hit you in the face." And with that the motel door flung open to reveal a furious Dean.

Tears stung your eyes, threatening to overflow. "How much of that did you hear?" Dean asked. "Enough." Dean took a deep breath and led you away from the motel door. "Look, I'm sorry. Honestly I never wanted you to hear that fight. But there's something I gotta say." Your breath caught in your throat, it felt like you were going to puke. You couldn't say anything back, so you just waited for him to go on, "I-Jesus-I can't do this anymore." He chokes out. "We need to break up." Tears pour down your cheeks silently. "We need to? Or John wants us to?" You seethe. "We need to. It's not fair, you never wanted this life. I know what you wanted, you truly want what Sam left for. An apple pie life. You could still go to College, meet someone normal. I can't, no I won't, keep bringing you down like this." His voice raises. "Seriously? After everything. You're giving in?" Nothing. Dean stands there, looking like a lost puppy. "Fine, I'll leave, I know when I'm not wanted. But before I go, I hope you're aware you sound just like John now. Congratulations." You whip around and walk as fast as your legs will take you to your car. Speeding off down the highway, making sure to stick your middle finger out the window for Dean to see.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

currently writing a part 2

[welp-here-goes-nothing]

Seeing red.

Okay but the first time Jason finds out his adoptive father Carson is immortal isn't when he was still Robin. Sure there were a couple times where he thought Carson probably should've gotten hurt but his other dad is Batman. And his other other dad is Superman so he brushes it off. He's street smart not detective smart. (Not yet at least)

No it happens when Jason is back in the manor after the pit. He's still working on managing his anger a little bit and everyone has been pestering him all day. First it was Dick, just "worrying about his baby brother" as he put it. Then it was Tim pestering him about now that he was back would that mean he would go back to being Robin? Then it was Bruce who was getting on him about his use of guns, again.

So Jason had escaped to the one place he knew his family wouldn't follow him on the account of facing Alfred's wrath, the kitchen. He's making lunch for himself, definitely getting some of his anger out with chopping things for his food. He's not really paying attention but he notices Carson walk in. There's a few moments of silence between them, the only noise coming from Jason furiously chopping up some vegetables. Until Carson breaks the silence.

He wasn't pestering Jason, wasn't scolding him, wasn't asking him stupid questions. In fact he was just looking out for Jason, as the teen was getting dangerously close to his fingers with the knife. He didn't know why it happened, but when Carson reached out to gently grab Jason's arm he gripped the knife and plunged it deep into Carson's stomach. It didn't take long for Jason to realize what he had just done.

And suddenly he was a little kid again, tears in his eyes, panic rising in him, apologizing to his papa. He just stabbed Carson, he STABBED his own dad. He was running around the kitchen trying to find a towel, or wash cloth, or something to try and slow the bleeding.

"Jason. Jason. Jason, bubba look at me." Carson said grabbing his panicked son.

"Papa! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't I-" Jason stammers.

"Hey it's okay. Hey look at me Jason." Carson gently tells Jason.

He watches in horror as Carson pulls the knife out and he starts panicking again until he realizes there's no blood on the blade of the knife and Carson pulls his shirt up to show there is no stab wound. He's confused for a moment before he just collapses into his father's arms.

"You didn't hurt me Jay. It's okay bubba." Carson soothes Jason.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Jason keeps repeating over and over again.

"It's okay. I know you've been under a lot of stress lately, I'm not angry okay? I am perfectly find, you didn't hurt me at all." Carson reassures the younger.

They're like this for a long while, curled up together on the floor. Carson gently running his hand through Jason's hair to calm him down. Bruce enters the kitchen at one point, and the expression on his face all but screams he's annoyed at Jason for something again but one withering glare from Carson and the kitchen is empty again.

[aikuwrld]

barou considers himself a man with patience— most of the time. he tries. he really does. he’s been practicing especially hard for you. barou also considers himself a realistic man— again, most of the time. what was he expecting? no, really, what exactly was he expecting when he had chosen to dorm with four other boys who seemed to foolishly believe that hygiene was a foreign, irrelevant, rather tedious concept? four boys whose spare time “bonding” was spent talking about their hook-ups with hot girls or debating how “glam” or “unglam” another team’s play was. and don’t even get him started on how they asserted their dominance through burping contests held almost every single day— how could a king end up with such misfortune?

of course he was the only one cleaning up after four boys who treated their dorms like nothing but a pigsty. sendou’s sweaty socks sprawled all over the floor after practice or a match when the laundry bin was not even three feet away, aiku’s spicy ramen packets still filled with powder littering the kitchen counter, niko’s skin care creams and manga abandoned on the bed and on the floor alike, and good god… was that… aryu’s strands of long hair all over the tub? it looked like something straight out of a horror movie. a plugged in hairdryer dangerously close to the sink— oh, he could gag… a man can only hold himself back for so long.

barou’s throat was nearly raw after yelling for everyone to tidy up after themselves at least a little before he’d start on the deep-cleaning for the day. it was a free day for everyone in the blue lock building which meant he’d finally have this dorm to himself. and he was going to spend it cleaning. that meant everyone had to leave. no exceptions. his head pounding so hard, so viciously, that he considered for a fleeting moment that strangling his teammates to death once they all came back from their day off and proceeding to bashing his head in after would be the smartest way out than dealing with another mess after all his hard work.

oh, but then there you are when he opens the dorm door after finally finishing up the last bit of cleaning for the day. the weariness racking his body disappearing while he leans against the door frame to look down at you, squeezing his broom tightly in what he believes strongly must be ‘cuteness aggression’ at the sight of your beaming, bright smile and your arms held out wide for a hug. and was that a basket of snacks for him in your hands? god, how could barou resist?

“hey, princess…” barou sighs out in a low voice, a small smile forming on his usually stoic face. a smile meant just for you.

without a second thought, almost as if it were second nature, barou props the broom against the wall before pulling you close to him. it must’ve been the longest hug he’d ever given you in your years together. not that you’d ever complain about that though. his tense, weary muscles relaxing as the smell of your shampoo dulls his senses. his eyes flutter shut while he presses gentle kisses on your shoulder, murmuring softly about how much he loved you and missed you.

he doesn’t waste any time at all to indulge in you, after all, he’d managed to finish cleaning up after ruthless animals, he was more than deserving of this— of you. barou keeps your warm body tucked in between his legs, back pressed against his chest with one hand on your waist, the other pushing back your hair to kiss at the nape of your neck while you tell him about his sisters that you’ve taken care of while he’s gone. how life is back at akita. how much you’ve missed him.

barou was taken aback when you suddenly pull away from him, a pang of disappointment hitting him before you’re telling him to move up. the mattress dipping from the weight of your knees as you crawl behind him, running your hands down the expanse of muscles as you pull him back a little.

“where are you going? come here, i wasn’t finished kis—”

“relax, sho. let me do your hair.” you giggle out, his eyebrows that were once furrowed suddenly washed away with a look of surprise.

barou melts in your arms seconds later, his worries dissolving while you tangle your nimble fingers through his soft hair. a groan leaving his lips while he shifts back comfortably, careful not to put so much weight against you. for someone who styled his hair with gel so often, it never failed to impress you just how soft and luscious it was. the red streaks— now a little dull from the constant washing still looked so good, you had to remind yourself to thank aiku some time for recommending it to your stubborn boyfriend in the first place.

“mm.. definitely needed this… thank you, baby..”

he groans out while you comb through the silky, smooth hair, the familiar scent of his shampoo and hair oil hitting your nostrils. barou was always adamant on using white musk oil after shampooing. it was his signature smell. it was the one step that really brought his routine together.

as your fingers glide through the lush strands, you marvel and coo at the softness, how long it seems to have gotten over the time he’s been gone. you let the strands cascade through your fingers while you appreciate just how his hair, usually disciplined and controlled like the man himself was on the field, was soft and loose— like this secret side of him. a secret side the king only gave you the privilege to see.

barou forgot about his stresses, about the grueling matches, the relentless practices he had, how the therapeutic hours he spent cleaning the dorm would be undone in half the time. around you, he didn’t have to worry about anything else. none of it mattered. you were always so good to him. so ready to love him and care for him. how could barou ask for more? the trust he had for you— the vulnerability to see him in such a relaxed state was for your eyes only. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

he’d lost. niou lost and all he felt was frustration. anger. disappointment. how could he have lost? his defense was outstanding. he’d sacrificed his usual hours at boxing practice to get it right. spent countless hours with aiku and darai to sharpen his skills. yet the hardest pill to swallow, the thing he couldn’t wrap his mind around was how could he have lost in front of you? his pretty baby. you were so proud of him. you’d given him the biggest kiss, cupping his face and telling him how well he’d play.

he looked up at the first half of the game and there you were. all dolled up in his jersey, showing off his name and number like a badge of honor, the brightest smile on your face. and all he could think about was how he could anticipate nagi’s next move and whether you’d prefer a wedding ring with vintage or modern style twist. his sweet angel in the front rows, best seat. and then he’d blinked, and before he knew it, he lost. and god. he was ashamed of himself.

he looked up while everyone lined up to bow at the end of the game to the crowd and noticed that your seat was empty. the weight of his loss only seemed to become heavier. niou had let not only his team down, but he had let you down too. it gnawed so mercilessly at him that while everyone clapped each other on the back and grumbled about dissecting the tactics used by the blue lock team to play better in the locker room, the usually boisterous and proud man stayed silent.

he stayed by the corner, slumped over a bench with heavy arms resting on his knees and a towel draped over his damp hair that covered the view of his face. the weight of everything slowly pressing down onto him at an unforgiving force; crushing him into place. he was ashamed to face anyone, least of all his damn self.

“hey, good defense back there, niou. you… you did good, alright?”

his captain’s gruff and unusually gentle voice breaking through the heavy air followed by a firm slap on his broad back that jolted him forward. niou grunted out a hollow ‘thanks’ in response.

it isn’t long before the chatter in the locker room dies out and empties. aiku was the last to leave, eyes never leaving niou as he looks back at his teammate with a sigh. he knew niou needed space. it was rare for the doberman to look so... defeated.

as the heavy door clicked into place and the footsteps faded off, niou steeped in the demeaning silence. the muffled drip of water from the shower heads blending in with the water droplets beading down his wet hair and hitting the tile floor. each rhythmic plop of water sounding heavier than the last. he swallow thickly, clenching his fists tightly until they were white, thumbs digging into the flesh of his palm.

he doesn’t lift his head when the door creaks opens again, assuming it’s most likely aiku back to coax him into grabbing a drink to swallow away all his sorrows or another one of his teammates who might’ve forgotten something in the locker room. it wasn’t until he heard it— his ears perked up at the familiar, light sound of footsteps. and when your voice cuts through the silence, his head shoots up, the towel on his head slipping off.

“kazuma? baby, what are you still doing here? i was in the back waiting for you to come out and— kazuma, you’re going to catch a cold, oh, your hair’s still wet and—“

he looks away; the shame twisting and pulling at his chest. how could he look you in the eyes after failing you with that sorry excuse of a performance? you must’ve been disappointed to call him yours, to wear his name on your back. you must’ve been embarrassed walking back to get to the locker rooms having to endure the pitying glances of everyone, you must’ve—

“kazuma, look at me.”

your voice is still soft as ever just firm and as tough as nails. it popped right through his bubble of self-loathing he’d grown comfortable suffocating in for the past hour. he knew better than to ignore you. he didn’t want to. even if he was disappointed in himself. he glances up at you with uneasy eyes, breaking contact to bend down to pick up the damp towel stalling for time to try to collect himself in some way before meeting your eyes again.

“i…”

niou starts, his mouth going dry as he swallows hard. trying his best to piece together what he so desperately wanted to say. niou sure as hell wasn’t a man who made excuses. he owned up to his shit. but, right now? right now, he was blanking out, hair uncomfortably soaked and slouched over like a loser trying to own up to something— a failure he never really expected in the first place in front of his lover.

“i’m sorry, baby. i don’t… you wore my jersey out there. proud as hell, cheerin’ for me and i couldn’t even give you a win. i just don’t understand… i worked ass off for this. and i still… i let everyone down, i…”

he doesn’t know what else to say, his voice dying down again and fading off into the silence again. he drops his heavy head once more, damp hair falling forward and slipping off his shoulders. his heart shattering as his own words seemed to have hit him like a bullet. it was unforgiving and sharp, his body crumbling.

“kazuma, come here, my love…”

you start, voice as soft and gentle as ever as you slide over next to him, wrapping an arm around the side of his neck to guide his head down on your shoulder. you could care less if the damp strands of his thick hair soak into your jersey. you press a lingering kiss on the top of his head, one hand cradling his head as the other holds onto the back of his shirt in an attempt to ground him to get your words to come through.

“i don’t come to your games expecting a win. i come because i love you. how could i ever love you any less because of a score? you worked so hard and gave it your all— i saw that. and i’m so proud of you. i love you. i always will.”

he’s suddenly still; his trembling fists relaxing as your words begin to sink in. for a second his body does limp in your arms as he sighs out shakily. god, it was all he wanted to hear from you and more. you were here. you always were.

“i… i don’t deserve you, baby. you know that?”

his warbling voice is thick with emotion, the cracks of disbelief and insecurity not going unnoticed by your trained ears. he looks up at you before bringing a large hand up to cup your face.

“you’re still here. i made all these mistakes and you’re still here.”

he croaks out, his chest tightened as his words slow down as he struggles to process everything.

“of course i’m here. where else would i be? look at this hair, hm? you didn’t even comb it, your beard still looks good as ever though.”

you grumble out, running your fingers through his hair and lifting it up before letting it flop back down, running a thumb over his facial hair to try to ease the tension.

“hold on, let me find the dryer and your brush. stay here.”

and he does exactly that. niou sits there, glossy eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. all he could think about is what he did to deserve you. he just can’t bring himself to look away— lost in this little blessing that’s you. how all his aches and pains seemed to unravel the tight, thorny hold it had on his poor heart.

it doesn’t take long until you’re back with the dryer, brush, and his bottle of oil, running your fingers through his hair as you tend to drying it off as quickly as you can. with every manageable comb through with your fingers, niou finds himself coming alive; cracking open bit by bit. slowly starting to become himself a little more with each joke you two crack or kiss he steals from you. his heart growing softer, his weary body lighter.

niou eagerly leans into your touch as you begin to work the brush through his hair, you’re standing in between his legs, combing carefully through the knots and working your way up to his scalp as the slight waviness begins to set in his dark hair, soft and loose. you bring lips down to kiss the hair occasionally, basking in the warmth. he has one arm around your waist and the other beneath the curve of your ass, squeezing the supple flesh of the back of your thigh once in a while as he rests his cheek against your stomach.

you’re finished in no time, rubbing in the egyptian musk oil into his hair. the comfortable silence settling around you both. the rich, masculine smell of wood and amber filling the room. he basks in the warmth of your working hands while you scratch at his scalp, bunching up the curled ends of his hair in your hands before letting them go. the soft clicking sounds of your rings brushing together creates the perfect sound that reminds him of stars twinkling up in the night sky.

“there we go, handsome. you look so good, baby.”

your hands cupping his face once more as you bring your lips down to kiss his, he has his arms wrapped around little tighter around your body before he’s breaks away.

“i love you,” he murmurs out against your lips.

“i love you. you’ll always be my man,” you reply out breathlessly, your heart swelling with nothing but affection and adoration.

“yeah? say it again.”

“god, you are just… my man. you’re my man.”

“again.”

“you’re my ma—“

you gasp out sharply, unable to finish your sentence he’s up on his feet with that mischievous glint dancing in his bright eyes and a smile you’d rather die now than live a hundred years without seeing. he throws you over his shoulder with ease and picks up his duffle bag with his free hand. he ignores your laughter and pleas to put you down as he kicks open the locker room door, heading towards the parking lot to his car outside, striding like a man who had won the absolute world.

ᣟ៹ ❤︎៝ : happy valentine’s day weekend!! spent mine eating burritos n typing this up n yearning .. i hope you guys treated yourself n had fun!! you deserve it. <3 i barely see anything for barou as it is but niou work is BARREN .. i hope i reached some niou fans out there pls i love him he is underrated !! i love both of my long haired princesses sm and i just KNOW they are absolute suckers for you and when you comb their hair they just fall in love pls .. i am sorry for any spelling mistakes in advance these came out a lot longer than i had expected omgg .. also got my first ask !! i am so excited to start writing that n those reiner hcs :3

[discordiansamba]

the only person outside of the monastery crew that knows rinka and rin are the same person are shura and the (now retired) shiemihaza. shura's not talking and shiemi's grandma is. as we all know. going to die before the story starts.

shiemi knows rinka, since he often accompanies shiro on supply runs before missions. she's the first human he's ever met that's not his mother that's not the slightest bit afraid of him.

local demon boy thinks girl he just met is an angel, more at 11.

shiro, to the other monks: ...i think rinka has a crush on shiemihaza's girl?

(he doesn't know if he should encourage this or not? shiemihaza doesn't seem to mind, but he's positive no one else in the Vatican would like it.)

rin is the king of saying shit he shouldn't know and quickly covering it up with my dad told me. hahaha! yep. that's definitely it. no need to question who else was around when you said that further.

the cram school gang at first only peripherally knows yukio's twin brother. he can see demons, but he's not interested in becoming an exorcist... until he is. he joins the class after their exwire exam, with little in the way of explanation.

once rin shows up, they see rinka a lot less.

(it will take them awhile to connect the dots.)

shiro still has kurikara. he never used it, but he also never gave it back. he gives it to rin as camouflage once he joins the cram school. you obviously can't use your flames, kid.

ryuuji: do you have a demon in that sword or something?

rin: uh. yeah! it's a... fire demon?

ryuuji: huh. what demon?

rin sweats. he's a literal fire demon himself, but he has just forgotten the name of every other fire demon in existence. fuck.

(shiro is trying not to laugh in the background.)

the first person to notice something amiss is ryuuji, actually. rin goes missing during the impure king incident. they figure he probably got roped into helping the main exorcism force, but shima, yukio, and konekomaru say they didn't see him there anywhere.

which is weird. rin's not the type to run and hide from a fight, ryuuji knows that much.

he doesn't dwell much on it in the moment, though. not when he has to deal with his only source of protection as he casts the fire barrier being the son of satan. this is not a position he wants to be in.

(shiro's a little busy dealing with todo)

...except. he has to admit. said son of satan basically saved all of their asses. he disappears right afterwards, but not before ryuuji sees something fall out of his pocket. when he goes to pick it up, he's confused.

this is rin's bracelet. the one he always wears. why does rinka have it?

(rinka meanwhile is freaking out. where the fuck is his bracelet. he can't look human without that. luckily, shiro has a spare so the crisis is averted... for the moment.)

shima: okay. now that we're out of danger, there's something i've been wanting to say this whole time.

ryuuji: what?

shima: did it look like rinka had just rolled out of bed to anyone else?

(they all think about it. actually. yeah. he kind of did. heh.)

rin, glaring at one of his t-shirts: have they seen rinka wear this. i need to start separating these damn things.

rinka: samael can you let me time travel back into the past so i can yell at myself for not studying math.

mephisto: no. deal with the consequences of your own actions.

rinka: you suck

rinka is fiddling with his phone. shiro looks over. he's googling 'how do you make friends'.

rin's cover story is that he was sickly as a child, and so was his mother. she didn't have the ability to raise yukio, so she gave him to shiro. rin moved in with them after her death, and after he got better.

yukio: nii-san can I call you back. i'm busy seeing the horrors.

rin: (<---is the horrors)

still rotating this blue exorcist AU idea from two nights ago, so I figure I might as well talk about it! the basic idea of the AU started with "what if Yukio was raised relatively in the dark about his origins, but Rin wasn't" and it sort of just snowballed from there, as things do.

on the night of his birth, rin's demon heart is never sealed. yuri calms him down all on her own, despite all of her own struggles that night. she survives childbirth, and pleads that she'll raise rin herself, so that he won't harm others.

(shiemihaza looks in her eyes, and this time, she agrees)

once it's confirmed that yukio is human, and has not inherited satan's flames, shiro agrees to raise him for yuri and give him a normal life. he keeps yukio's origins a secret from him, only vaguely alluding to the fact that he has an older twin brother who lives with their mother.

yuri and rin are confined at the Vatican, not allowed to leave the room they are given. yuri survived, but the traumatic pregnancy followed by the even more traumatic childbirth has clearly taken its toll on her. she is much weaker, and no one expect her to live long.

she ends up living for eight more years anyways on pure determination alone.

she raises rin carefully, teaching him how to control his flames and his strength. how to be kind to others, even if they aren't kind to him. rin grows up with a mother who is physically frail, so he learns to be gentle because he doesn't want to hurt her.

shiro becomes paladin. he visits yuri whenever he can- and at first, he's really just here for her. he still thinks she's crazy for thinking she can tame her demon son, considering what happened with satan. but eventually, he comes to understand that rin isn't his father.

(yuri learns from her mistakes. she doesn't repeat them with rin.)

yuri's health takes a turn for the worse in the twins' seventh year. she passes away after their eighth birthday. there's mutters in the Vatican about finally getting rid of satan's spawn.

shiro is not going to let that happen, so warily takes some advice from Mephisto. he doesn't trust him one bit, confident he's playing at some kind of long game, but he promised yuri he'd protect both of her children, and he intends to do just that.

he ends up making rin his familiar.

(he holds rin's hands and makes him promise that he'll never use his flames on humans, unless its an absolute emergency. the boy's spiral eyes are just like his father's as he looks at him, but the person behind them couldn't be less like his father if he tried. rin promises.)

for the first time since he was born, rin leaves the room he was confined in for so long. he's going to finally meet his little brother that he's heard so much about.

he has to wear a weird, itchy bracelet to do it, though. it's supposed to make him look completely human to even people who have a mashou. mephisto made it.

(it's a rosary, because mephisto is determined to be an ironic little shithead at all times.)

his mom named him rinka. when he goes to live among humans, shiro gives him the name okumura rin.

fujimoto yukio meets his twin brother for the first time when he's eight years old. he's a strange kid, and it takes him awhile to get used to his presence at the monastery. there's something almost... disquieting about him, but that feeling fades over time.

rin doesn't go to school. everyone agrees that's probably a terrible idea. yuri taught him how to read and write. shiro tries to teach him the other subjects, but rin's not very interested.

(he is interested in cooking, though. lifehack: teach the demon kid you are now raising how to do math via cooking.)

rin keeps his bracelet on at all times around the monastery. he only takes it off when shiro needs rinka.

yukio does not grow up seeing demons. he has been blind in his left eye since birth- but that all changes after an encounter with a demon right before he moves into the true cross dorms. he doesn't remember much of what happened. all he knows is that rin saved him.

he learns demons are real, and that his father is an exorcist. and that rin has known about this all along, because he's been able to see demons his whole life. shiro grits his teeth, and decides to enroll yukio in cram school, with apologies to yuri.

(he has a bad feeling that yukio's encounter with that demon wasn't simply chance. the demon sight that mephisto sealed away is back- and with it, the vision in yukio's left eye.)

shiro doesn't tell yukio about his origins, nor that of his brother's. most of the exorcist world has forgotten that yuri egin ever had twins. only a few choice people who lived through that event are aware of this fact. there's only one son of Satan, and he is the paladin's familiar now. that's common knowledge.

mephisto: hm. I have a good idea. let's enroll rin at true cross academy as well!

rin, who has never gone to school in his life: i'm sorry what.

mephisto: you'll be able to protect your brother that way!

(shiro watches yukio at cram school. rin watches him at regular school. but also at cram school, because he's there too as shiro's familiar rinka. yukio just doesn't know that part.)

(at least he finally gets an excuse to wear that cool mask he bought that covers the lower half of his face. otherwise yukio would 100% recognize him. and he very much does not want that. he'd like to stay human in yukio's eyes for at least a little longer.)

[vm-haunts]

Ice Cream

Reasonable to think that the Fentons would have a freeze dryer to preserve samples and what not.

Also reasonable to think that they don't care about lab safety enough that they'll make astronaut ice cream with it.

[medicinemane]

You know... well first off all this is a complex topic and this is me throwing stuff at the wall with my thoughts in the middle of the night, so I hope any place I don't phrase things the best or fully think things out, you can get that that's why

That said, I'm thinking about any kind of fuck nazis media from Indiana Jones to Wolfenstien to whatever, and I'm thinking about how popular they are (which is good) but... the thought goes something along the lines of I think part of that is it's very easy to say fuck you to horrible people from going towards 100 years ago, in part because you don't have to analyze anything about yourself or your own beliefs

Most people find it easy to say fuck nazis (good) particularly when it's historical nazis

I suppose my point here is I wonder how much this ends up being kind of thought terminating for people where they feel like "well I said fuck nazis, so clearly I couldn't share anything in common with them"

It's a complex topic, it's a touchy topic, and frankly I don't think I have the bona fides to lead the discussion... at best to point in a direction and say it's worth thinking one

Most people don't think of themselves as someone that would be a nazi, clearly they'd be part of the resistance, they'd never let it get that bad cause they're a good person... but like... do you really think that the majority of flesh and blood day to day people in nazi Germany were sitting there thinking about how much they'd love to commit genocide?

Complacency, ideas like "I care about people... but these acceptable targets are different because...", being tuned out and saying "well surely they'd never actually do something that bad"; I just feel like if you can't look at yourself and see that the right arguments given the right way stand a chance of causing you to be willing to allow bad things, well I think you're not being honest with yourself or not doing very much introspection

It's not secret why this is on my mind right now. The left says "I couldn't be a nazi because they were right wing and I'm not", and the right says "I couldn't be a nazi because I only want what's best for people, I don't really want to see anyone hurt", and magically everything's absolved from everyone and isn't it great that no one would ever behave like a nazi

Never mind the rising antisemitism in all directions, never mind people on all sides dismissing horrible behavior so long as it comes from people similarly aligned to them; you hate historical nazis so what more could anyone ask from you?

I'm reminded of a story from a Rwandan preacher (and I wish I knew his name, by the time I tried to find my source, I couldn't track it down... cause tumblr has a great search function) where he talked about hiding people during the genocide

Specifically he talked about how the people who forced their way into the church and grabbed him and the people sheltering there... these people getting ready to kill were people he'd know for years, members of his congregation, good people... ready to murder, to kill the cockroaches because he just didn't see, this is something that had to be done

(The reason he survived was he more or less said "well at least I know where I'm going when you kill me, can you say the same for yourselves?" and people hesitated enough to say more or less "you freaks aren't worth our time, get out of here before we change out minds")

I don't know... you look at yourself, and can you honestly say there's zero chance you'd ever be the ones breaking in, pulling people out to murder them because someone somewhere had whipped you up into a fervor in the right ways?

Obviously not, you'll introspect, and you'll come back here and say obviously not. Maybe it'll be true... maybe you've already got a list in your head of people who aren't human where it wouldn't count. How should I know? I'm not the judge of true morals, I can't see your inner secrets

Regardless, no, you obviously wouldn't fall to that. You have your reasons why you know for a fact that you wouldn't. Besides, you hate historical nazis, so how could you be anything like them

(To be clear, I'm not asking anyone to tear themselves to pieces looking for secret shame, last thing I need is people with anxiety worrying they're secretly a horrible person)

(I'm more just asking something pretty impossible, which is for people to take a real honest look and acknowledge that like... yeah... maybe my hatred of trans people for whatever reason I give why it's fine is getting pretty fucked up... maybe in my valid criticisms of Israel I'm starting to slide into actual full on antisemitism... maybe I've gotten so caught up in some dogma that I'm starting to excuse some pretty awful shit so long as it comes from people I agree with)

(It's bad times, and I see a lot of people, even people I like, turning a blind eye to a lot of awful stuff because "well no, it's not meant like that" or similar and... man, no one is going to fucking listen, it's called a blindspot for a reason and people really really hate being wrong but man... what I wouldn't give to just be able to open a few people's eyes to where their actions are leading them)

[awardenandacrow]

Alright, so sorry for the long wait, but I’ve finally circled back around to write for prompt 22, @hyperions-light ‘s other ask, which is Grey Warden Rook encountering their first Darkspawn. I’ve been ruminating on it, because I need to do some setup, which will make this kind of long for a prompt answer, but I hope ya’ll will enjoy it still!

There’s a familiar (?) face here for y’all because I CAN.

CW/TW: strong language, blood, violence, body horror (Darkspawn)

Note: there’s a LOT of setup and y’all probably didn’t sign up for that but it’s important to me telling myself the story as well as telling y’all. Also I don’t know if this will actually make it into the fic but we’ll call it Snippet 45 for fun anyway.

——————————————————————————

“Why not send Naimeryn out with them?”

Naimeryn froze, her knuckles inches from the door. It had been Markus, the librarian’s, voice.

Was he… vouching for her?

“Who?”

Naimeryn rolled her eyes. All these years of putting her through the abyss, and he still didn’t even know her first name.

“He’s referring to Warden Thorne,” Lucienne’s voice chimed in. “While I’m hesitant to share Markus’s… *enthusiasm,* I can see the wisdom in the suggestion.”

“You’re *joking,*” The First Warden’s tone was livid. “You want me to send that girl out of the fortress?”

“There is nothing for her to do in the library,” Markus said. “My notes are impeccably organized. There isn’t a spec of dust to be found. The old tomes have been meticulously repaired — I didn’t even teach her how to do that, she taught herself. Not a volume out of place. I simply have no work for her.”

Naimeryn knew pride was dangerous, but she felt her chest swell with it anyway. Figuring out how to repair the damaged bindings had been a long, slow process, but seeing all of the books looking clean and new on their shelves was worth it.

“Warden Lucienne,” the First Warden tried again. “You *truly* think unleashing her on Thedas is *wise*?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Lucienne snorted in that derisive way she had. “It’s a scouting mission, most of the members of which are experienced Wardens. We aren’t sending her alone into Minrathos on a recruitment mission.”

*Good thing,* Naimeryn thought. *I would* definitely *fuck that up.*

“Do you remember when she —“

“It was nearly *ten years ago,* First Warden,” Lucienne snapped at him. “There have been no such incidents since. She completed her final project perfectly. She recovered well from her Joining. She has done everything around Weisshaupt you have ever asked, but she has *never* faced even a single Darkspawn. She has nothing left to learn within these walls. And frankly, none of us think it’s right to keep a Warden, *especially* one hand-picked by Warden-Commander Mahariel, locked up here, what? Until her Calling comes?”

“What harm can she really do?” This voice belonged to another of the senior Wardens, though she didn’t know his name. “This is my mission, so if you truly think this Naimeryn Thorne would be a detriment, I would like to know why.”

“We are discussing a *barely competent* elvish mage with no specialization or talent,” the First Warden boomed, and Naimeryn felt herself shrink back from the door. “She has been running around Weisshaupt since she was a teenager, wreaking havoc and causing chaos no matter what she touches. It’s a wonder she isn’t an abomination and Weisshaupt’s halls aren’t flooded with demons!”

“With all due respect, First Warden,” Naimeryn gasped. That was *Amaya.* “Not having a specialization *does not* make her ‘barely competent.’”

“Warden —“

“I would like to hear what Warden Amaya has to say,” Lucienne cut him off. “She comes from a prominent Altus family, and she is a member of Naimeryn’s Joining class. She is more than qualified to speak on the subject.”

“Thank you, Mage Warden Lucienne. Naimeryn is a friend, and I will say that up front, and allow you to make of it what you will. As one of the more junior Wardens selected to join this reconnaissance mission, I can tell you that Naimeryn can *only* be an asset to the team. She is dedicated, and dilligent. Her attention to detail is impressive, and her instincts are *good.* She wants nothing more from the Wardens than a chance to do something good. And if I may be frank, First Warden, she *deserves* the chance to prove you *wrong.* She can be a good Warden, if only you allow her the chance to *try.*”

Naimeryn’s eyes stung. Amaya’s speech was so impassioned, and on her behalf? She waited with bated breath. Would it be enough?

“I’m convinced,” said the senior Warden who was to lead the mission, “though as always, I defer to you, First Warden.”

Should she go through with her plan? Knock? Say her piece? Beg for a chance? Would seeing her undo any shift in his mind the others’ words had brought on? She chewed her lip so hard she tasted blood.

“Warden Amaya, are you prepared to assume responsibility for Warden Thorne?”

Everything went deathly quiet. Naimeryn closed her eyes and turned away from the door. Well, that was that. If that was the only way he’d let her leave Weisshaupt, then leave Weisshaupt she never would. She felt her shoulders slump and her head drop.

“It would be my *honor,*” she heard Amaya snap. “I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”

Dread stirred in the pit of Naimeryn’s stomach. No, no! What if he was right? What if she proved a liability? What if she messed up? She didn’t want to be the reason Amaya got into trouble! A purple haze floated at the edges of her vision.

*No,* she thought resolutely, squaring her shoulders and holding her head high. She *wouldn’t* be the reason Amaya got into trouble.

…

“Warden-Commander?” Naimeryn said nervously, hesitating before following Amaya up the inn stairs.

“Carver, please, Naimeryn,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s just… you’re Carver *Hawke*, aren’t you?” She asked cautiously. His arm paused, his glass halfway to his lips.

“What of it?”

Naimeryn sensed she was on thin ice. Maybe she should drop it? She took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry if this is out of line, ser,” she said. “I don’t pretend to know *anything* about you just from reading Varric Tethras’s work. I just… I heard about what happened, at Adamant? With the Inquisition. I… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for your loss.”

Warden-Commander Hawke looked genuinely surprised. The other senior Wardens were staring at her, some shifting uncomfortably, some wearing thinly veiled expressions of disapproval. No matter what their relationship had been like… that had been his last blood relative, to her knowledge. She knew the sting of that loss, how strange it was to know that you were truly, finally, completely alone. To be the last one standing, whatever that really meant, trying to navigate it on your own.

It had been some years, now, of course. Maybe she shouldn’t have…

“Thank you, Naimeryn,” Carver said finally. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Rest up.”

…

“It should just be a small band, if anything,” Carver told them, pointing at the smoke at the center of the village. “Looks like they broke through right at the heart of town.”

“So what do we do?” Naimeryn asked.

“I’m sending Fraeska here to Weisshaupt for backup,” Carver said, patting the slim elf on the shoulder. “She’s the fastest runner I know — she’ll grab a mount in the last town we passed, and be there by morning. The rest of us, we’ll split up into pairs and establish a perimeter, make sure civilians can safely get to the outskirts, and contain any Darkspawn that get too bold and spread out from the sinkhole. We should have reinforcements by tomorrow night, next morning at the latest, and then we storm the hole, end the incursion, and go home heroes.”

Fraeska nodded. “See you soon, Warden-Commander.”

And then she ran, with a swiftness Naimeryn would not have believed had she not seen it herself.

“All right, so. Antoine and Evka, you obviously work well together, so you’re team one,” Carver said. Elf and dwarf nodded in unison. “I’ll have the two of you go the long way; circle up to the north side of town, there.”

He pointed past the smoke plume, closer to the foothills. Antoine and Evka voiced their acknowledgement. Hamish and another dwarf, Egherd, were assigned the northeast, two young rogues were assigned the east side, while two older Wardens, were given the northwest. West and southwest were also given to older Wardens.

Naimeryn scooted closer to Amaya. She didn’t *know* Naimeryn knew she had accepted responsibility for her, but she also likely would think Naimeryn just *wanted* to be paired with her. But when Carver spoke, he paired Amaya with the last of the older Wardens, a man named Goff.

“Not Naimy?” Amaya asked in surprise.

Carver smirked. “No, Warden Amaya. I’d like to take Warden Naimeryn along myself, if there are no objections?”

Naimeryn hadn’t realized she’d made that good of an impression over the last few days. She swallowed thickly, shaking her head. She smiled at Amaya, who gave her a quick nod.

“All right Wardens. Let’s move.”

…

“I feel them,” Naimeryn said suddenly.

“Me too,” Carver nodded solemnly. “It feels… wrong. Larger than a small incursion.”

He knocked on the next door. The villagers inside were wide-eyed, terrified.

“Oh, thank the Maker!” The woman sobbed, a young girl clinging to her skirts. “Grey Wardens! We didn’t know if we should stay and hide, or —“

“It’s all right, ma’am,” Naimeryn said gently. “We’re evacuating everyone to the cliffs to the sou—“

Eerie whispers flooded Naimeryn’s head, without having passed through her ears. The Blight in her blood sang beneath them, sinister notes dripping in rage and malice. She shook her head against the headache mounting at the base of her skull, aware of Carver rushing the villagers out, but barely able to hear him.

“They’re under us,” she told Carver, even as his arm was circling her waist.

The ground where they’d been standing fell away as Carver spun them to safely, a yawning mouth down into the Deep Roads now gaping at them where none had been. Carver released her and loosed his sword, and on sheer instinct she grabbed her staff.

They came flooding from the hole like ants from an anthill one had been unlucky enough to disturb, clawing their way through and over one another. Their eyes glowed red. Their skin was taut against their bones, mottled red and black and pale, pale white with bulging black tendrils of Blight choking their limbs and necks. They snarled and roared and growled and moved *wrong.* Jerky, uncontrolled steps and wild, unpredictable swinging of claws and weapons made of bone or old, rusted metal.

And the smell. Rotting flesh and blood in equal measure.

Naimeryn thought she might be sick, or freeze in her panic, but neither of those things happened. Instead, she swept her staff out in front of her, sending a wave of magic in an arc in front of Carver and herself, knocking the first wave of Darkspawn back into the second. Carver let out a battle cry and charged. Before joining him, Naimeryn sent sparks of magic into the sky above them. If the others weren’t already fighting as well, they would know they were needed.

She returned her attention in front of her in time to slam her staff into the ground to blast three Darkspawn back away from herself.

“There’s too many!” Carver yelled to her. “This was just supposed to be a small incursion!”

He grunted in pain as a genlock barreled into him, knocking him into a wall.

“Carver!” Naimeryn shouted, summoning all of her mana and throwing a blast of arcane bolts at the line of Darkspawn. They shrieked as they caught aflame, and she fought her way to him as he relieved the genlock of its head.

“You’re hurt!” She said, seeing blood at the torn seams of his armor.

“We’ve got to fall back,” he grunted, shoving her away from him and starting to follow. “Move, move!”

She turned and ran the direction he’d indicated, periodically throwing blasts of magic over her shoulder. Where were the others? Were they all right?

Naimeryn came around the corner and found herself face to face with an ogre.

She’d known they were big. But this monster towered over her, nearly three times her height, breathing hot air down at her while it’s glowing red eyes narrowed and its fanged mouth seemed to *smile.* She screamed, falling backward, barely conjuring a shield in time to protect herself from the downswing of its giant bone club.

Carver leapt in front of her, using the club as a springboard and sinking his sword deep into the ogre’s chest. With a roar, it collapsed. Naimeryn leapt to her feet, fending off the incoming ghouls from behind them with blast after blast from her staff, all the while backing towards the ogre carcass and Carver, struggling to retrieve his sword from its flesh.

“Incoming!”

From the rooftops, arrows began to rain down on the Darkspawn. With them preoccupied for a moment, Naimeryn spun and ran up the ogre’s body, wrapping her hands around the hilt of Carver’s sword with him. She planted her boot on the damned thing’s jaw and threw all of her weight back with him. The two of them nearly fell as it finally came loose.

“Goff! Is anywhere clear?” Carver shouted up to the roof.

“They’re not on the north side yet!” Came the reply. “But you and Thorne need to get out of the streets!”

“Working on it!”

Carver slammed his body into the nearest door, and with a splintering of wood, it gave way.

“Go, go!” He pushed her in ahead of him. “Up the stairs!”

She started up them as he toppled a heavy piece of furniture across the open doorway. His footsteps behind her were as thunderous as her own heartbeat in her ears.

This wasn’t a small incursion. This was damned near a *horde!*

The second floor landing ended in a locked door.

“Wait, wait!” She waved her hand at Carver to back up a step, then blasted it open with her staff. She ran into the small bedroom ahead of him — there was only one window, on the back side of the house. Naimeryn crossed to it quickly, throwing it open. The street below was clear, but there was nothing to break the two-story fall. She twisted to look up, but there was nothing to climb. They’d have to jump to the eaves and heft themselves up, but the rooves she could see didn’t look very sturdy. It was their best shot.

“Can you jump?” she asked Carver, turning to face him. He had gathered the bedspread from the single bed against the back wall, and was attempting to stuff it into his torn armor to staunch the bleeding. He was pale. Too pale.

“Warden-Commander?” She asked nervously. Before he could answer, a ghoul burst up the stairs into her room. Naimeryn blasted it back down the stairs, cracking her staff across the head of another. She ran to the wardrobe, jumping onto one side of it and toppling it, rolling out of the way just before being crushed herself. A ghoul who tried to sneak under before it completely blocked the doorway was not so lucky.

“That won’t hold them long,” Naimeryn fretted, rushing back to Carver’s side. “I’m no good with healing spells. We need to get you to Amaya.”

“Can we get to the roof?” Carver wanted to know.

“Can you jump?” She repeated, guiding him to the window. His steps were wobbily. Creators, what was she going to do?

“Ladies first,” he smirked at her. He looked suddenly very boyish, though she knew he was not.

“I’m not an idiot,” Naimeryn shook her head. “We have a better chance of both getting out if you go first and can take your time. Come on.”

Carver hesitated, then stepped onto the window frame as the wardrobe began to rattle in earnest. He puffed out his cheeks and jumped up, grabbing the roof. As he did, the windowsill crumbled, leaving a hole in the wall where Naimeryn would have stepped. Behind her, the wardrobe rocked.

“Goff!” She heard Carver yell. She stuck her head out the hole in the wall in time to see the others hefting him over the edge. Creators have mercy.

The wardrobe flew across the room, smashing into the back wall and crumbling into splinters over the bed. Naimeryn whirled around and threw a blast at the charging Darkspawn, forgetting she stood at the edge of a whole in the wall.

“Naimeryn!” Someone shouted as she fell backwards towards the street.

She twisted, throwing a spell at the ground and just barely managing to break her fall.

“Thorne!” Goff was shouting. “Get your ass up here!”

Naimeryn clambered back to her feet and ran, not needing to see them or be told that the Darkspawn were hard on her heels. She leapt up onto piles of crates, onto a wagon, across an awning, onto a narrow balcony, and finally up onto a rooftop on the opposite side of the street.

“Head north!” Carver was shouting to her. “Find Antoine and Evka! We need to regroup!”

Hey! 22 or 17 for the Rook story time prompts!

So I initially was going to jump on 22, because my knee jerk reaction was to laugh at the thought of Naimeryn teaching someone else a skill. BUT, then I remembered that I have this headcannon that Naimy wouod totally wash everyone’s laundry for them, kind of out of habit to fill the time, but also kind of as a “I care about you so I will voluntarily do for you this thing I was for years FORCED to do”, and then I was that gif of excited Chris Pratt as this idea came to me. So, I will circle back to prompt 22 at a later date, and right now here’s the answer to Story Time Prompt 17: Rook teaches someone a new skill.

This functions as FANFIC SNIPPET 37; and will chronologically fall shortly after the snippet where the Bellara and Lucanis find out Naimy’s favorite breakfast food is pancakes.

[Lucanis finds out Naimeryn does everyone’s laundry for them.]

——————————————————————————

“Rook? What are you doing?”

“Oh, Lucanis!” Naimeryn squeaked, jumping and dropping several of the linens off the top of her basket. She turned to face him so she could see him. He looked surprised to have startled her.

“Sorry,” she said before he could speak, stooping to pick up what she’d dropped with one hand, holding the basket against her hip with the other. “I didn’t hear — or see — you leave the pantry.”

“Apologies,” he returned. “I did not mean to startle you.”

Naimeryn straightened up and shrugged with a shy smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just still getting used to the dead zone.”

She waved her left hand next to her face good-naturedly. A thought occurred to her, and she quickly dropped her hand. A master assassin would probably think someone who was half-deaf and half-blind an unfit leader. She smoothed her tunic over her thigh anxiously.

Lucanis watched her for a moment, then said “You… didn’t answer my question. What is all that?”

“Oh! It’s everyone’s laundry. I try to do it on days I don’t have to leave the Lighthouse. Make sure everyone’s sheets are nice and fresh, that kind of thing. I know it’s only been a few days, and you don’t really… sleep. But, do you want me to do yours?”

Lucanis frowned. “You… do the team’s laundry?”

“Yeah…” Naimeryn’s chest squeezed. Was that… wrong? “It’s just something small I can do so no one else has to worry about it, you know?”

Lucanis looked unconvinced. “Doesn’t the Lighthouse just… provide clean sheets?”

Naimeryn opened her mouth. Shut it again. She hadn’t thought about that. “Oh… I don’t know. I found the laundry room right after Bellara moved in and I just… started doing it.”

“Do the others know?”

“I… I don’t know that either. Does it matter?”

“I feel like I’m upsetting you.”

“*No,*” Naimeryn said quickly, dropping more of the laundry as she reached out to touch his arm reassuringly. Quickly pulled her hand back. What if he didn’t like being touched? She shouldn’t be overly familiar. They’d really just met. “No, no, I — *ow*!”

They’d both bent down to pick up the fallen laundry at the same time, and their heads had collided.

“I am *so* sorry,” Naimeryn said miserably as he rubbed his head. “I — I’m gonna just. Go.”

“You have a lot there,” Lucanis said, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “Would you like some help?”

“I —“ Naimeryn didn’t know what to say. No one had ever offered to help her with a chore before. Would it be all right to accept his help? Before she could decide, he’d gathered the fallen items in his arms.

“Let me help,” he said firmly. Naimeryn felt her cheeks flush at how earnestly he was looking at her.

“All right,” she mumbled. “It’s this way.”

She led him past the stairs up to the deck, to the stairs that lead down, beneath the dining hall. It was still strange to her how the room had simply not existed when she’d first explored the Lighthouse, but once there were four of them, the stairs had just… appeared.

“I must warn you,” Lucanis said, stepping onto her right side as they walked down together. Her heart fluttered. What was wrong with her? “I have never done laundry in my life.”

Naimeryn started to laugh, then caught his expression. “*Never*?”

He shook his head. “I’m the First Talon’s grandson. We had servants for that.”

*Servants?* a nasty voice prickled at the back of her mind. *Or* slaves?

Naimeryn swallowed the thought and forced herself to smile at him. “I guess that makes sense. I guess I never really thought about how lucrative being a Crow must be.”

“Our services are *very* expensive,” he allowed with a slight bob of his head.

“Good thing Varric’s coffers are paying then,” Naimeryn wanted to sound carefree, but nerves stirred deep in her core. It never occurred to her to think about the money. “Anyway, here we are.”

She walked to the large round tub at the center of the room, reaching up to pull the chord to fill it with hot water.

“Where does the water come from, I wonder?” Lucanis said, more the himself than to her, setting the clothes and sheets in his arms on the stone edge of the tub.

“Hm, dunno,” Naimeryn eyed the spout as she put the basket down as well. “We’re basically right under the kitchen, so logistically it makes no sense. But then, Fade logic is its own beast.”

As the room filled with steam, Naimeryn went to the shelf and gathered the soaps and two washboards.

“This is not easy work,” Naimeryn warned Lucanis, turning back to him. He was already rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. Naimeryn swallowed thickly.

*Get it together!* she groaned internally. *They’re just forearms, Creators have mercy!*

“I am no stranger to hard work,” he cocked an eyebrow at her, further dizzying her feelings. “I did not mean to imply that.”

“Okay, Crow boy,” she smirked, opting to tease rather than reveal how uncomfortable she was making herself. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Unexpectedly, Lucanis proved an *excellent* listener. He followed her directions exactly as she explained how to measure out the proper amount of soap, and watched intently as she demonstrated washboard technique. Once he’d gotten the hang of it — it was a simple enough task, this was nearly immediately — they settled into a rhythm, and a companionable silence.

Naimeryn found she rather enjoyed his company. She supposed it could have been any of her companions, really; it was just nice to not have to be alone, even while doing something as mundane as washing clothes. He needn’t even have been helping. She supposed he could just have easily been reading a book or, she didn’t know, sharpening his knives. Just having him in the same space at the same time was… comforting.

Once the clothes were washed, she showed him how to hang things on the lines to ensure they dried completely — spread out, nothing overlapping. When they were done, she admired their handiwork and smiled at him with her hands on her hips.

“Not bad for a first-timer,” she teased.

“The credit all goes to my instructor,” he smirked. Naimeryn’s cheeks burned again, and she ducked her head.

“You were an attentive student.”

[speed-world]

Hello, im a fan of the self aware scenario you did with the coward y/n cookie, and I was wondering what their reactions would be of meeting the beast cookies

To be honest, you had no interest in going to Beast-Yeast, at all. After all, why would you? Whatever conflict the Ancients and other cookies had with each other didn’t concern you, not to mention that just the name - “Beast-Yeast” - already freaked you out.

If it weren’t for Pure Vanilla Cookie promising that your safety, due to the agreement between the Ancients and Dark Enchantress Cookie, you would’ve stayed comfortably in the Cookie Kingdom far away from the other continent.

You wish you never listened to Pure Vanilla now, because this beast - Shadow Milk Cookie - immediately wanted to make you run far, far away.

The jester scared you with his sinister and maniacal behavior. If you had a fear of clowns before entering the cookie world, then you’d pass out the more his actions continued.

After seeing the mental turmoil Pure Vanilla was experiencing, the loss of Elder Faerie Cookie, Shadow Milk’s terrifying powers and his “plays” that were mockeries of all the adversaries of the Beasts—the color blue might be your most hated now.

Yeah, you’d be completely fine and dandy if you never saw a hint of Shadow Milk’s Cookie ever again

However, he couldn’t stand to think of this meeting being your last…

How were you convinced to go back to Beast-Yeast a second time?? Suppose you can be grateful for that promise with the Ancients and Dark Enchantress Cookie.

You actually really liked the Ivory Pagoda. The atmosphere was so serene and otherworldly, and warmly inviting…or dangerously alluring.

The company of Dark Cacao Cookie, Caramel Arrow Cookie, Crunchy Chip Cookie, and the Cacao warriors made this trip a whole lot more comfortable and relaxing. However, their presence couldn’t make things better when you finally came face to face with the other Beast - Mystic Flour Cookie.

You thought the slow creepiness of Cloud Haetae Cookie would be the worst of your problems, but at least the story they told was directed to the Ancient instead of you.

The second you saw that spider pop out of that cocoon, your soul ascended to the crossroads. Your body went so pale that Dark Cacao thought you succumbed to the pale ailment.

You really couldn’t articulate how much Mystic Flour scared you. Shadow Milk was insane, but this?! She’s so uncaring, so unrelenting in her belief of apathy, is it too late to stay with Peach Blossom Cookie for the rest of this journey?

Let’s not even get started on that face. You hated any related horror stuff in the real world, and now you’re seeing that in front of your face!!

Yeah no, forget this. Awesome job on Dark Cacao awakening, time to get on the first airship outta this place.

As much as you wanted to be as far away from Mystic Flour Cookie as possible, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Stared at by a force that you couldn’t look back at, no matter how hard you tried….

Hell. To the freaking. NO

Naaaaaah Golden Cheese Cookie, she’s crazy if she thinks you’re going to accompany her to Beast-Yeast. Promise be damned, they clearly didn’t account for the mental pain that you’ve suffered through.

Smoked Cheese Cookie seemed dead serious on agreeing with you, but Golden Cheese wouldn’t take no for an answer. You decided to stick close to Smoked Cheese, because the Beast is only focused on Golden Cheese after all, right?

Had it not been for the presence of Golden Cheese and Smoked Cheese, you wouldn’t have even thought of coming to this place. It’s hotter than a truck engine in the summer, a lot of these Spice cookies are pretty hostile, and—Oh God the sandstorms are the crumbs of dead cookies?!?????!

And then, you met him-Burning Spice Cookie. He’s already scary to look at, so you just hid your face whenever you saw or heard him.

His power is also way too scary-he doesn’t care about any collateral damage caused, heck he probably loves if there’s more of it! Smoked Cheese spent his time making sure that not even a crumb of you were harmed during the fight of Golden Cheese and Burning Spice.

You weren’t sure what freaked you out more: Nutmeg Tiger Cookie’s unwavering devotion to such a being like Burning Spice, or the fact that Burning Spice Cookie does all that he does…for entertainment.

All the death, destruction, suffering he causes, everything, all for a cheap laugh?! Why-why again did you ever come here?!?

To make matters worse? Smoked Cheese and Golden Cheese were locked away in a cage. But you? No, Burning Spice didn’t want you in confinement.

He found it much more amusing to have you by his side, attached to his hip and sitting on his lap.

Your soul departs each time he speaks, your breath is taken away when he breaks something, because you’re scared that it might be you he breaks next. Seeing him be so casual and collected after crushing Cilantro Cobra Cookie in front of your face was what set you over the edge.

You were panicking, screaming, tossing around. You wanted to leave now, no ifs, ands, or buts. You can’t take this anymore and-…

He-he’s staring at you….he’s in the middle of his second round fight with Golden Cheese Cookie, and he’s staring. Right. At. You.

You were eternally grateful for Smoked Cheese Cookie being so understanding, and being so quick in trying to get you out of this God forsaken continent.

But even as you were getting away, you heard his laugh. You know Golden Cheese struck him down, but you heard his faint sinister laugh; virtually paralyzing you in place.

Please, for your sake, can you never come back to Beast-Yeast ever again?!?

…

…

Where did this ticket come from?

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

a/n: this was a commissioned werewolf piece, it’s 1.2k words long!

Everyone warned you that being out late at night was dangerous, but you never listened… and that would end up costing you in the end.

You had trouble sleeping, and in your earlier years, you despised how long and lonely each night could be… but now that you lived on your own, that changed.

The night was special to you. It was a time where everyone else was asleep and you could really let loose. Some nights you’d listen to music until morning, or maybe binge a show you had been putting off for months.

Though, others you left the safety of your little home and wandered into the woods.

It was well past your usual bedtime when you decided to get some fresh air. You felt cooped up in your room, and even after pacing and trying to find something to do in your house, nothing caught your interest.

You already tried masturbating to help you sleep, but it didn’t work. Now your pussy was wet and aching, and you didn’t even get to cum. There was only one other way to get yourself to rest…

The forest was calling to you, luring you out with the promise of adventure and crisp air that could clear your mind and lull you to sleep.

Usually you wouldn’t mind being up all night, but tomorrow you had to be up early for work. Most days you went in after lunch at the earliest, but one of your coworkers was sick with the flu and asked you to cover his shift.

Although you wanted to decline and sleep in, he had saved your ass a few times already and you owed him.

So, you put on your sneakers and a coat before grabbing a flashlight and leaving the safety of your home.

Everything about the forest felt comfortable and familiar. The crunch of leaves under your feet, the soft sounds of creatures scurrying from tree to tree, and even the wind made your tension ease.

For a while, you felt at peace…

Then, you tended up. Something was watching you from afar, and you could feel someone’s stare burning into the back of your head.

When you turned to see who was there, you didn’t spot anyone. You waved your arm, your flashlight’s beam moving over rocks and trees… before something glinted in a bush about 20 feet away.

It was an animal’s eyes, and whatever it was, you could tell it was huge.

For a moment you gazed on in horror, your eyes wide and hand trembling. The creature met your gaze, and that’s when it stepped forward.

You didn’t even notice you dropped your flashlight until after you were sprinting through the dark forest, tripping over a branch and scrambling to get back up. Thorns scraped your knees and arms, making you cry out in fear.

You could hear it behind you, panting and letting out a low growl. You caught sight of its yellow eyes and sharp fangs.

It looked to be some kind of wolf standing on its hind legs, but you didn’t stop to examine it thoroughly, you were running for your life.

But you weren’t fast enough.

The creature could see in the dark, and you couldn’t. Every time you tripped or stumbled you were slowed down, and eventually it was on top of you.

You cried out as you felt its large claws circle around your arms, pinning you against the ground. It hovered over you, panting from either excitement or fatigue, you couldn’t tell which.

Now that it had you in its grasp, you were able to get a good look at its appearance.

The creature was nearly twice your size, his gray fur bristled and wolf ears twitching as drool dripped from its sharp toothed maw.

All you could do was tremble and cry. This was the end, you hadn’t listened to your loved ones’ advice and now you were looking death in the face.

Hopefully it would be over quickly…

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned your face away from it… but instead of it attacking, you felt something… hard and wet rubbing against your thigh.

For a few seconds you kept your eyes closed, but they shot open when you felt one of its large, paw-like hands roughly grope your clothed cunt as its tail thumped behind it.

It was sniffing you, licking at your neck where your scent was most prominent. His fluffy wolf ears were flicking as he kept pawing at your pussy, as if trying to arouse you so he could smell more of that delicious aroma.

His teeth weren’t used to tear your flesh and eat you alive… instead he bit your shirt and tore it off, his tongue lapping at your bare breasts.

This thing didn’t want to eat you… he wanted to mate! It must have smelled the slick still on your panties and cunt from earlier!

If you played along, maybe you’d get home safely after all!

You could tell the poor thing was struggling by the way he let out pathetic whines as his cock bobbed needily. To help it out, you guided his hands to your breasts.

“Play with these, okay?”

His ears perked up and his tail picked up speed as he groped and kneaded your tits, his yellow eyes following the way they bounced and squished together. While he did that, you pulled down your pants and panties.

Honestly, you were aroused, embarrassingly so. He could smell it, immediately going to bury his face into your cunt the second he caught your scent.

“Th-that’s it-“ you blubbered out. He was inexperienced and rough, but his tongue was so big that it rubbed against your clit every time anyway. It was clear that he was desperate to mate, but couldn’t stop himself from tasting you first.

Before you could cum, he pulled back, his fat cock shoving itself unceremoniously inside of you. Fortunately you were just wet enough so it didn’t break you, but the stretch was painful and uncomfortable.

His hips slapped against yours as he mounted you, his hands gripping your soft flesh so tightly you could hardly bear it. The feeling of his nails digging into your hips hurt… but also added to the pleasure.

He was hitting your gspot, making your pussy clench around him as you had your first orgasm of the night.

The thrusts were going at an animalistic pace, and when your knees gave out he lifted you up and bounced you on his cock.

You felt your belly bulge, he was absolutely huge and was bottoming out inside of you. Suddenly his cock began to expand, and you realized too late that he was knotting you.

Your womb was stuffed full of his cum, and he howled at the full moon as his thick ropes of cum spurted into you, painting your walls white.

The werewolf let out a sigh, his knot keeping you connected to him as he calmed down. He was so relaxed and happy after his orgasm, licking your head affectionately and curling up around you.

It looked like you weren’t going to be able to cover for your coworker tomorrow… not when the werewolf was following you home for round two.

“Don’t wolves mate for life..?” you questioned yourself aloud, looking back at the werewolf as he followed behind you like a loyal puppy.

You’d have to find that out later… all you wanted to do was sleep after that experience.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141 (pt. 4)

You thought it was a mistake when someone called in reserving a party of 14 for a birthday. The voice on the other line assures you it is not, and that they'll be arriving at 7pm. You inform everyone.

"Who wid want a birthday in this shithole?"

Johnny gaffaued, spraying down some dishes.

"Probably just a prank call."

Kyle replied, arms wrapped around your waist and head resting on your shoulders. But it wasn't a prank call. The first half of the party arrive and you and Gaz have to scramble to push tables together. It's overwhelming, everyone is talking all at once, demanding things left and right. Gaz swoops in to help deal with one half the table while you the other. The food comes out, leaving you to be able to sit in the back for a few minutes, talking to the guys about nothing. Walking back out, some older man was snapping his fingers at you, waving his arms as if they weren't the only fucking people in the joint.

"Steaks burnt to hell, remake it."

He slides the plate to you, making you catch it before it falls off the side of the table. You apologize profusely and send it back to the kitchen. Price raises an eyebrow,

"Looks fine to me."

He stares at the piece of charcoal on the plate.

"Fucks sake, lemme do it."

Simon grabs his shoulder and cooks another steak. You set it down infront of the old man, watching him take a bite. He throws his fork down,

"Still burnt. How hard is it to cook a fucking steak?"

You look at the plate, meats still pink in the middle. Apologize again and offer to remake it.

"No, don't bother. Jesus."

He stares daggers into you. You wring your hands nervously.

"Actually, everyone's food was shit. None of us should have to pay for this."

Your mouth goes dry. You look over your shoulder to meet eyes with Kyle at the bar. He immediately walks over.

"Everything alright?"

He puts on his nicest customer service voice and that charming smile that can melt anyone. Except this asshole apparently.

"No everything is not alright, this was the worst dining experience I've ever had! Everything came out wrong, and it all tastes like shit!"

Spit flies out from the mans mouth. Kyle stands between you and the customer, trying to diffuse the situation. And much to your horror, one by one, the table starts to leave. You try to say something but they ignore you.

"Go get Johnny."

You run back, trying to act casual in front of Simon and John while tugging Johnny by the sleeve. He looks down, concerned.

He's on the floor before you can finish telling him what happened,

"Ye'r gonnae have tae pay sir."

His tone is more firm than Gaz, arms crossed and looking down at the old man. You're almost in tears as you watch more of the table file out the door, you turn back to look at Gaz. He frowns, furious. There's a heated argument at the table, the old man is yelling now. Not at Kyle or Johnny, but the only person he wasn't afraid of; you. The commotion makes John and Simon step out. This idiot is gonna get himself killed. You can see the moment when the customer loses the fight in his eyes. Shuts right up as soon as Simon says,

"Problem?"

Like a fish out of water, all the old man does is open and close his mouth wordlessly.

"Grab the cheque."

You don't know who Simon said that to but you and Soap crash into each other turning around and walking to the POS system. Ghost gently grabs the bill from your shaky hands and shoves it into the customers chest,

"Cash only."

"I don't have cash."

"There's an ATM around the corner."

The old man nearly jumps out of his seat,

"Right. Be right back."

He rushes to the door, Kyle and John follow.

"Oh there's no need-"

"Making sure you don't get lost."

Kyle smiles, eyes dangerous. It's about five minutes when they're back, the old man placing some 20s down before complaining under his breath. Then he gets kicked out,

"I need my change!"

He looks over Johnny's shoulder, looking to you for help. You shrug, arms crossed. When the door closes you sigh, running fingers through your hair

"You alright, darling?"

Gaz asks, voice as sweet as ever, gentle hand on your face. You nod.

~

That evening was pleasant. More than that really. They pampered you, cooed and soothed you as you huffed and sniffled. Ran you a hot bath,

"Poor thing, dinnae deserve tha."

Johnny massaged shampoo into your hair.

"Won't let you stay around next time we deal with something like that again."

Kyle kneaded the tension out your shoulders. John sat you in his lap, brushing hair out of your face while saying sweet nothings. You really do enjoy milking this for all it's worth, sad eyes looking up and huffing like you didn't get over that bullshit as soon as that old man walked out the door.

"Pampered little princess, you know that?"

Simon's lips are pressed up to your neck, just under your ear. You just nod, his words rattling around your brain while you got fucked senseless. You're tired, but the boys promised to coax an orgasm out of you. From each one of them. Then another. Well, you're a trooper, so what's one more round? Showered with soft kisses and praise, a foolish smile is painted across your face in a pleasurable state of stupor; Gosh, aren't you just spoiled rotten?

**sorry if it's short! I am on holiday ( ╥ω╥ )**

[deadsetobsessions]

Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.

“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”

God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.

Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.

“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”

“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”

“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”

Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.

“What happened?!”

“My word, master Danny!”

“What is it?!”

“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”

Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.

“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”

“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.

“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.

“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”

The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.

“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”

“Danny.”

“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.

“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.

Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”

Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…

“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”

“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.

“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”

The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.

“Done.”

“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”

“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”

“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”

“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”

“Very well.”

“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.

——

“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”

“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.

“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”

“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”

Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.

“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”

“Tt.”

“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”

[tmrajax]

thinking about…

bestfriend!bakugou who lets you hang out in his dorm room as he’s sleeping. who constantly complains about the noise but isn’t actually able to sleep unless he can hear your comments about the book you’re reading or a movie you’re watching. softly smiling in the mornings when he sees your coffee cups on his desk and little notes littered all around his room.

bestfriend!bakugou who loves watching you crochet next to him in bed as you two are watching a show together. watching as you treat the project with so much care and attention it makes him almost jealous of it. laying his head on your lap and looking towards the screen.

bestfriend!bakugou who listens to you rant to him about how your kindle doesn’t have a series you want to read, telling him that you wanted to find out if it was good before buying the paperbacks. he just laughs as you grab one of your books and start flipping through pages trying to find a quote you wanted to show him.

bestfriend!bakugou who buys the series you wanted and writes a small ‘tell me all about it after you finish it, sweetheart’ inside the book and watches you freak out when you see the collection of books sitting so gently atop your bed.

bestfriend!bakugou who gives in with a sigh when you ask to wrap ribbons and put red kiss marks on him for pictures to put in your wallet. even smiling brightly in one to make you happy.

bestfriend!bakugou who holds you as close as he can to himself when you guys ride the subway. wrapping an arm around you and putting you as close to the wall and himself as he can, trying to shield you from whatever danger that existed.

bestfriend!bakugou who holds your hair back with one hand, heating his palm up as he moves his other hand in circles on your back. leaving soft kisses on your head and whispering how you shouldn’t of drank as much as you did. only leaving your side to grab you water and his clothes for you to change into.

bestfriend!bakugou who asks you to be his girlfriend with a bouquet of picked flowers and a blush on his face. looking anywhere but your eyes and trying not to light the flowers on fire.

boyfriend!bakugou who gives into anything you ask of him as soon as you flash him your puppy dog eyes. and if you go the extra mile to pout, it’s over for him.

boyfriend!bakugou who watches with a smile and held back laughter as you dance around his room to mitski in tears, screaming the lyrics into a fake microphone.

boyfriend!bakugou who lets out tiny but loud explosions while you two are watching horror movies just to see you jump and hit his chest with a shake of your head.

boyfriend!bakugou who holds your hand to keep it warm when you drag him to pumpkin patches in fall. dragging him around and pointing to pumpkins saying how the green ones look like deku.

boyfriend!bakugou who lets you decorate his dorm room and childhood bedroom for holidays, just enjoying how happy it makes you.

[boy-with-the-pink-hair]

Yeah, I made a comic. Why? Cuz, I love to suffer. OTL

Based on my fic.*shameless self-promo* Relevant snippet below the cut.

...

Stepping deeper now into the cavernous inner chamber, he kept a hand on the wall as he peered into the gloom, wondering what could've caused the machine to malfunction. He took another step forward, nearing the far end of the chamber, his hand sliding along the wall until it passed over a slight depression and then a protrusion. His foot suddenly bumped against a thick cable on the floor and he shifted his weight in surprise. That's when he felt the protrusion beneath his hand sink into the wall with a click!

He stumbled back and saw a control panel where his hand had been, the buttons labeled on and off. He soon realized what he'd done as the chamber let out a heavy CLUNK and began to whir and hum, the glowing lines of circuitry growing brighter as the sound crescendo'd to a deafening peak. Danny heard his friends call out to him in surprise, but he found himself frozen in place as he turned to see a bright green light bloom at the end of the chamber into a brilliantly blinding flash!

Suddenly, a massive surge of energy ripped into his body! It took his breath away--pulled from his lungs in a painful scream as his muscles contracted violently, body spasming and convulsing as every nerve burned and sizzled! His heart pounded erratically in his chest, harder and faster than he'd ever felt in his life, as though it might explode! He clutched at his chest with another painful spasm, doubling over in pain as he tried to take a breath. It was an agony like nothing he'd ever felt before. It felt like dying. Like his body was being ripped apart, molecule by molecule.

Then as quickly as it began, it was over. His eyes rolled back as he collapsed to the floor, a blackness overtaking everything.

...

While the two friends busied themselves with their own activities, they didn't notice the atmosphere of the lab change... until it was too late. The CLUNK of the machine quickly drew their attention and both Sam and Tucker dropped what they were doing to watch in horror as it whirred to life.

"Danny?" Sam called out to her friend, "Danny, what's happening?!" The whir of the machine grew louder and louder, and Sam's heart sank in dread.

Tucker rushed back to the portal entrance to see what was happening, and joined in Sam's concern. "Danny, get out of there! Something's wrong!" he shouted over the noise, but it was too late. A bright flash of light burst from the machine, forcing the pair to shield their eyes as the deafening hum was replaced by Danny's agonized screaming.

"DANNY!!" Sam dropped her camera and lurched toward the portal entrance, but Tucker caught her waist and pulled her back.

"Sam, don't! It's too dangerous! You could get hurt!"

"But Danny's IN THERE!! We have to SAVE him!!" she argued, pulling against his grip, but Tucker held tight.

"I’m sorry, Sam... there's nothing we can do."

Yet, Sam refused to just stand by and do nothing. She broke free of Tucker's arms and rushed forward... but it was already over.

Danny's body crumpled to the floor with a thud and laid motionless beyond the threshold of the machine as a swirling green vortex formed inside. The two friends stared in quiet horror, before Sam stumbled forward into the machine to pull Danny's limp body back from that sinister green portal as it grew to fill the entire chamber.

She felt her heart clench as she dragged him back into the lab and rolled him onto his back. His once jet black hair was now a shock of white, and he felt cold beneath her fingers. A faint stench of burning wafted from his body, his suit a charred black and the rubber ashen. She knelt beside him, a hand on his chest, the other gently brushing the hair from his face.

"Tucker..." She looked back at the other boy in restrained panic, her voice wavering as she spoke. "He-- He's not breathing."

---

Read the rest here.

[writeriguess]

neemaaa

can i request a katsuki x reader where they are secretly in a relationship? they get caught making out by their friends and then get teased the whole time

Unveiled

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness thrumming through your veins as you pressed yourself against Katsuki Bakugo. His lips were hot against yours, moving with a fervor that sent a shiver down your spine. One of his hands was gripping your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, while the other cradled the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, nails grazing the nape of his skin, earning a low groan from him that you felt reverberate through your entire body.

This was risky. So damn risky.

Your friends could walk in at any moment. Hell, they were supposed to be here already! But the adrenaline, the sheer thrill of sneaking around, made it impossible to care. You had been keeping your relationship with Bakugo a secret for months, slipping away in between training sessions, sneaking into each other’s rooms at odd hours, exchanging heated glances across the common area when no one was looking. It was exhilarating, having this little secret between just the two of you.

"Tch, you taste good," Bakugo muttered against your lips before diving back in, deepening the kiss. You couldn't help but melt into him, fingers tightening against his skin as you pulled him closer.

That was when it happened.

The door to the empty common room slammed open with a loud BANG.

"OH MY GOD!" Mina’s voice practically echoed through the room, followed by the distinct sound of Kaminari’s laughter and Kirishima’s deep chuckle. You barely had time to react before the two of you jerked apart, but it was too late.

You were caught.

Bakugo's face was a mix of horror and absolute rage, his entire body tensing as if he was about to explode—not figuratively, but literally. You, on the other hand, were frozen in place, eyes darting between your very smug-looking friends.

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!" Kaminari wheezed, clutching his stomach as he doubled over with laughter. "I THOUGHT YOU HATED EVERYONE, BAKUGO!"

"Shut the hell up!" Bakugo barked, his face turning an alarming shade of red.

Mina smirked, her arms crossed as she leaned against the doorway. "Secret relationship, huh? Oh, this is juicy. You guys have been sneaking around this whole time? How long?!"

"None of your damn business!" Bakugo snapped, but his reaction only seemed to fuel their amusement.

Kirishima grinned, slinging an arm around Bakugo’s shoulder despite the clear and present danger of being blown to smithereens. "Man, this explains so much! You've been way less of an asshole lately."

"The hell I have!"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Can we just pretend you guys didn't see anything?"

Mina gasped dramatically. "Oh, absolutely not. This is the best thing that's happened all week!"

"Yeah, we're never letting you live this down," Kaminari added, grinning wickedly. "So, tell me, Bakugo, how long have you been secretly making out with our dear friend here?"

Bakugo twitched, his fists clenched, and for a moment, you genuinely feared for Kaminari’s safety. "You wanna die, Dunce Face?"

"Relax, man, I think it’s kinda cute!" Kirishima piped up, and Bakugo turned his death glare toward him instead.

Mina was practically vibrating with excitement. "Oh, I can’t wait to tell the others! You know this means the whole class is going to grill you, right?"

"Don’t you dare," you warned, but it was futile.

"Oh, I dare," she teased, winking. "I give it five minutes before everyone in 1-A knows."

Bakugo groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face. "I swear to god, I will kill all of you."

But the teasing didn't stop there. By the time the rest of your classmates found out, it was pure chaos. Sero and Kaminari wouldn't stop making exaggerated kissing noises every time you and Bakugo were in the same room. Todoroki, in his usual deadpan tone, commented, "I always assumed Bakugo was incapable of romance. This is surprising."

Momo and Iida, on the other hand, seemed genuinely happy for you both, though Iida did remind you that public displays of affection should be kept to a minimum.

It was insufferable. It was embarrassing. It was never-ending.

And yet, despite all the teasing, Bakugo still found ways to sneak you away, to press you against the walls of empty hallways, to steal quick, heated kisses when no one was looking.

"They can tease all they want," he muttered one night, his lips brushing against yours, "but that doesn't change a damn thing. You're mine."

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.